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chosows · 3 days

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TRAIN RIDES 🚞

Hiromi Higuruma x Fem Reader

Summary: Due to attending your parents’ marriage anniversary, they have provided your transportation on a luxury train that will travel across the country. With your lack of experience in high-class transport, you found yourself lost upon boarding. While roaming around, you spot a man who looks like he could assist you.

Word count: 3.7k

Contains: Smut, face riding, cowgirl, missionary, cunnilingus, train ride, fem reader, descriptions of intimacy, smut, hookup, no established relationship, alternative universe: no curses

Note: i wish i was on a luxury train — cross posting tomorrow on ao3 because i’m too tired

Boarding a train was always an overwhelming task, especially when it was your first time on a luxurious train. It was huge, spanning across several carriages. Everyone around you seemed to know exactly where they were going, all suited up in formal attire while you were in casual clothing. Panic settled in as you watched the world move through the window, realising you’ll need to find your seat soon. You walked through the endless rows, peeking at the numbers, though none seemed to match the one you were given. You felt sick, it was mortifying knowing there were eyes glued to you as you dragged your suitcase behind you—you couldn’t make more noise if you tried. Entering a new carriage, you spot a man who isn’t glued to a piece of technology—your potential saving grace.

“Excuse me, could you check my ticket? I can’t find my seat.” You suck in your lower lip as you extend your hand, the man in the suit slowly lifts his head from his paperwork.

“It’s been fifteen minutes; have you been walking around the entire time?” His voice was monotone, but he didn’t intend to be brash—it seemed to be a sincere question.

“Yes, this train is too big. I knew I should’ve just driven.”

“You would’ve paid a month's worth of rent on gas; your seat is right here by the way.” He shifts his briefcase and you say your thanks, awkwardly scooting in beside him. As soon as you put your headphones over your ears, he struck up a new conversation.

“I’m Hiromi; it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Since you were unable to hear him correctly, you bat your eyelashes, causing him to crack a smile, “Hiromi. What’s your name?”

“Oh, sorry,” You turn your music on pause and share your name, apologising for your ignorance, “I assumed you were busy with all those documents.”

“I was skimming through my folder; I have to make sure I have everything prepared for my client’s case.”

“Very interesting, and probably extremely confidential.” You pout your lips, desperate for him to be quiet. It’s not him who is the problem, you are pleading to destress from the walk of shame you went on.

“That’s right,” He copies your expression, smirking to himself while he packs his briefcase again, “It’s a good thing I don’t have a wife.”

“Why?”

“I have to travel constantly for work, she’d get lonely.”

“Being single is better anyway; you don’t have to worry about keeping another person happy all the time.”

“That’s definitely one outlook.”

“I’m going to listen to my music now; it was nice to talk to you, Hiromi,” You say cheerfully, giving him a sincere smile before your eyes drift to your phone.

Rather than returning the courtesy, he simply nods his head. This train runs overnight, meaning the two of you are bound to spend hours by one another’s side. He was respectful and stayed within his boundaries; out of the corner of your eye, you could catch a glimpse of him flipping through a novel. Since you couldn’t afford one of the rooms this train has to offer, you begin dozing off beside him. Your head droops down and your phone crashes to the floor, but you don’t wake up. Hiromi glances at you, noticing you are fast asleep; with little to no other option, he leans over you and attempts to pick it up. Due to the abrupt grazing of your legs, your eyes flutter open and you find Hiromi hunched over.

“Your phone, sweetheart. I can’t reach it.” He points to your phone flat in the middle of the aisle and you scurry to pick it up.

“Thank you.” You check your screen for any cracks, then rest your head back against the seat; it wasn’t comfortable, but it would have to do.

“Are you tired?” Hiromi takes a sip of his water and then turns to face you.

“I’m exhausted—I just want to go to sleep.”

“I have a room if you’d like to use it; you should’ve told me.” He rummages through the pocket of his blazer and reveals the keycard—it’s one of the more expensive rooms this train possesses.

“Oh, you don’t have to. I sleep on trains all the time; I’m used to this—”

“If you’re tired, you need proper rest. I’ll take you to the room and you can have a look in; you might change your mind.” He stands up, meaning you also have to stand in order to let him out. Your suitcase and your purse are dragged along as he strides forward with the baggage, leaving you to sprint behind him.

Reaching the new carriage, you are taken back by extravagant decor—you almost forgot you were on a train. He beckons you over while he scans his card, allowing you to take a step inside. You were in awe, it had a double bed and a small desk space—it even had a dining table. The warm yellow lighting made the wooden interior appear cosy, much like the floral duvet—it reminded you of your grandparents’ home. You spin around to Hiromi who had taken his blazer off and loosened his tie, now realising how sunken his eyes were from lack of sleep. Perhaps he needed this more than you—it would be unfair to take something that someone else had spent their hard-earned money on.

“It’s lovely here, but I can’t take it from you. You’re going to need more sleep than me.” You clasp your hands together and provide him with a soft smile, only to hear him chuckle.

“Take the bed, it’s yours. I’ll be fine, I do appreciate your concern though.”

“Are you sure?” You sit down on the mattress, instantly melting into the rich memory foam. It moulds around you, cushioning every inch of your body.

“I’m certain. Why are you on this train—work-related?” Hiromi asks from the dining table, staring over at your limp body.

“No, family-related. I have to celebrate my parents’ wedding anniversary.”

“Sounds like it will be fun,” He rolls up the sleeves of his white cotton shirt, revealing the watch on his wrist, “It’s better than what I’m doing.”

“You’re a lawyer, right? Or did I make that up?” You roll over onto your stomach and lock eyes with him, growing comfortable in his presence quickly.

“Unfortunately. It’s a nightmare, I wish I wasn’t.”

“I’ve never met a lawyer before; law is one of the most desirable courses for young people studying. Guess they have their hopes too high.”

“Absolutely—far too high. They think it’s fun when they’re twenty, then it hits them full force when they’re thirty-six.”

“You’re thirty-six? I thought you were younger—maybe twenty-eight.”

“I’m flattered, but no. I’m thirty-six and I feel like shit to put it simply. I should’ve gone into finance.”

“Being a lawyer is more impressive. You look like you’re good at your job; you dress well and you seem professional.”

“I’m glad you think so, but I’m not the most professional out there—not when I’m out of work.”

“Do you live a double life? Lawyer by day, male stripper by night.” You motion your hands in the air and laugh, hearing him join in with your absurd sense of humour.

“Male prostitute, actually. It’s going to cost you for this conversation; I charge $10 per every five minutes.”

“Do you take card? I have no cash.”

“You’ll have to find a way to make some then.”

“You’re funny, Hiromi. Do you live in the town we departed from?” Your eyes drift up as he approaches the bed, locked on him without shifting.

“Live and work there; I have for a while.”

“Could I get your number? It’d be nice to keep in contact with you.”

“Give me your phone, I’ll type it in.” He takes a seat next to you while you pass him your phone, observing him as he creates the new contact.

“What brand is your watch? It looks fancy.” You poke his forearm and he places your phone down on the bed, rotating his wrist for you to see the watch face.

“Vacheron Constantin.”

“That sounds expensive—it’s gorgeous.” It was completely silver, gleaming in the light. He undoes the strap and puts it on you, allowing you to temporarily wear it.

“It was, the price isn’t important though. It looks pretty on you.” His smile widens, revealing his straight set of teeth. Hiromi isn’t a bad-looking man, he also has a similar sense of humour to you—you were lucky to have bumped into someone like-minded.

“It’s a little too big for me, I’ll have to give it back.” You extend your wrist forward then draw it away, taunting him playfully.

“I thought you were tired.” He continues attempting to grab your arm, but you dodge him each time.

“I am, you’re just too slow.”

After a back and forth of him trying to grab your arm, he pushes you flat into the pillow and forcefully grabs your wrist. You turn your head to the side, sensing yourself burn up from the contact; he was on top of you, removing the watch. When he’s finished securing the watch in place on his wrist, he notices how silent you become. He lies down beside you and groans, his hands resting on his abdomen, untucking his shirt.

“Have I destroyed this friendship already?” Hiromi clears his throat, then ruffles up his hair since it has gotten messy.

“No, far from it. I like to play around.” You raise your hand in the air, stretching your fingers and then the rest of your body in turn; the yawn you had been holding back finally escaped.

“People who play with me always lose,” He meets your hand mid-air and gets intertwined with it, shaking it side to side, “Especially when they’re sleepy.”

“That feels targeted.”

“Maybe it was.”

“A lawyer has never won against me; I suppose you’ll be the first to lose.” You bite your lip and roll over onto your side to meet him; a smug expression takes over his face, twisting his lips up into a smirk.

“I like your confidence.” He places your hand on his chest and shifts your position, now straddling him.

“Do you?—” Your fingers brush against his face as you loom over him, “—Your skin is so smooth, wow.”

“Yeah, I get quite a bit of stubble but I prefer the clean shave.”

“You’re cute, Hiromi.” You continue to stroke his face; his brows furrow after he hears your words and he chuckles.

“Cute?”

“Handsome, attractive—whatever you want to call it. You’re good looking and I like your personality.” You retract your hand and beam at him; his expression significantly warms, and the grip he had on your hips becomes lighter.

“I wasn’t expecting that; a lot of people find me to be bland. Speaking to someone with a similar sense of humour is refreshing.”

“If you’re bland, we must be two of the most boring people.”

“We probably are,” He snickers, his eyes drifting from your face and down your torso, “Maybe not you, but me.”

“I don’t believe that; I think you have a fun side, everyone does.”

“How am I supposed to flirt with a woman like you while I’m sober? You’re stunning; I don’t know what to say to you.”

“You’ve been doing a good job,” You play with his tie, loosening it while you wrap it around your hand, “Do you speak to many women?”

“You’re hilarious,” He scoffs, squinting his eyes while he glares at you, “I’m not that bad. I’m not used to flirting with new people, that’s all.”

“Were you never the type of clubbing guy?”

“I think it’s a waste of money—there’s hardly any class in a club; don’t take that the wrong way. I prefer more meaningful ways of meeting someone.”

“What’s a more meaningful way then?”

“Becoming acquaintances with a lost lady on a train, assisting her when she dropped her phone, and allowing her to take my room because she claimed she was so tired. Though I don’t think she was that tired, clearly.”

Thumping fills your ears as your heartbeat increases, drowning out all other sounds while becoming flustered by his statement. Hiromi had a way with his words; even the most basic statement uttered with the correct tone would prompt you to feel some type of way. It’s a powerful yet effective charismatic trait—likely one he uses in the courtroom. With a gentle hold on your jaw, he lures you down closer, brushing his thumb over your lips. Your lip gloss was smeared across his skin, but he continued the motion. You refrain from making the first move; if this is all a big game, you aren’t going to be the one to lose. He continues muttering out compliments under his breath, then draws himself just a centimetre away. His breath was hot on your skin. The sexual tension is at its peak; it’s bursting at the seams, begging to be released. Unable to stand it much longer, you press your lips to his and lose yourself in his kiss.

One hand is on the back of your head and the other is on the small of your back, pushing you as close as he can to deepen the kiss. You could feel his boner forming through his pants, though you were in no position to comment as the damp patch forming in your panties grew. An experienced kisser, but you believe these lips haven’t kissed many women. Hiromi had always been the long-term relationship type of guy until his last breakup; he had given up on finding love—it would only waste his time searching through women to find the right one. His hands slip under the fabric of your top and he unclasps your bra, sliding the straps down from your shoulders. To catch his breath, he breaks free from you and watches as you take your top off, revealing your exposed breasts.

“You are gorgeous,” He gropes your breasts, not enough to invoke pain but enough to generate a slight increase in pleasure, “Perfect even. A woman like you shouldn’t still be single—what type of man could fail you? I’d do anything to make you happy.”

“What type of woman could fail you?” You repeat his statement, altering it slightly. If you were Hiromi’s ex-girlfriend, you wouldn’t have hesitated to tie the knot as soon as you got engaged.

He didn’t answer your question—he was too focused on getting you out of your pants. After undoing the button, he tugs them down and reveals your panties. You hadn’t been expecting to end up in a scenario like this so you were in potentially your worst underwear set—it is far from sexy, but he doesn’t seem to care. Your chest was heaving as his fingers skimmed your inner thigh, hooking onto your panties and guiding them down slowly. While you were fully naked, he was entirely clothed. The power dynamic was in his hands. He pushes you forward, moving your hips further up his body just before his mouth.

“Don’t be shy, ride my face. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.” While you’ve been eaten out before, you have never been in this position. It was strange to experiment so suddenly, but your body was urging for his touch.

“Will you be okay?” You wrap your fingers around strands of his hair, hovering over him while waiting for confirmation.

“I’ve done this before; you have nothing to worry about. I’ll be fine, so will you.” He squeezes the flesh of your waist, reassuring you that you have no reason to doubt his word. He guides you as you lower yourself, planting your pussy on top of his mouth.

The first flick of his tongue gathered up your slick, but he gave you nothing more. He slapped your ass gently, widening his eyes to signal you to begin moving. You sway your hips as he works his tongue, building up an orgasm faster than you have before. Though you were poking fun at him earlier, you’re convinced this is the first pussy Hiromi has indulged in for a long time. He was starved, sucking your clit and lapping his tongue in all of the correct places. He knew how to stimulate you, and he knew just how to hit those sweet spots. You had taken advantage of your position, grinding against him as his hooked nose bumped into you. The sweet taste you provided was causing him to strain, his tip beginning to leak pre-cum in his freshly cleaned suit. He grumbles as you continue, his fingers grasping you hard enough to the point they leave indents in your skin. You found yourself moaning legitimately rather than forcing it—little whimpers flying out between your laugh provided by the satisfaction.

“Hiromi,” You mutter his name, his hazy eyes opening and locking with yours. He was intoxicated by ravishing your cunt, and his expression had pushed you closer to the edge of a climax.

The coil in your core had snapped before you had time to alert him you were cumming, resulting in a whine as he continued to collect anything remaining. Your eyes became half-lidded until the sound of his phone buzzing caught both of your attention. Hiromi couldn’t care less of who attempted to contact him while he still had you in his hands; he lifted you from his mouth and flipped you over, pulling your bottom lip down with his thumb. He spits what cum remains in your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as he’s busy unbuckling his belt. No one had ever made you feel so mighty and then so belittled in the span of minutes, but you liked the treatment you were receiving. He wipes his face clean with the back of his hand and continues exploring every inch of you.

In moments, he was in his boxers. A faint trail of hair was present at the lower end of his abdomen, leading down into his boxers. Though he wasn’t in perfect shape, he was toned and his muscles were present. You could see the outline of his dick, switching your gaze between it and his face. He leaned over to pick up his briefcase, searching for his wallet. When he finds it, he pulls out a condom and tears it with his teeth, turning away as he puts it on. You close your legs over and he turns back to you, his entire length on show.

“I forgot how awkward this was,” He grunts as he scoots his way closer to you, prying your legs apart to situate himself between them, “Are you okay?”

You nod your head, unable to get words out of your mouth. He took your breath away; the fact he is embarrassed baffles you. Positioning his tip at your entrance, he allows himself to lubricate using your slick. Since both of you were breathing heavily, he locks his fingers with your hands and inches his way in, hushing you to remind you that there are other people nearby. You had completely forgotten you were on a train. He slips in quickly, finding an adequate rhythm to thrust into you. Hiromi enjoyed seeing your face contort as he hit you in deeper spots, but this position was growing old. A woman as divine as you deserves to be on full display. He continues to thrust into you in that position before pulling out and rolling over, planting you on top of his dick.

You slipped him back into your sopping hole and began to bounce, riding him in a way that chased your climax. The girth of his dick filled you up nicely, his tip rubbing repeatedly against a sweet spot found deep inside of you. He would groan as you rocked your hips, his eyes fluttering back to resist his cum from shooting into the condom. A true gentleman of the sort, prioritising your sexual needs before his—he was letting you use him without saying a singular word. Your walls begin to tighten around him, finding yourself coming undone for a second time this evening. As you begin to lose stamina, he takes control and begins pushing into you. You droop forward and snuggle your face into the crook of his neck, placing kisses and bites in areas the collar of his shirt would cover. One thing for sure is that you’re going to give him something to remember by the end of this train ride.

His face scrunched up as he released his load, moaning quietly as the condom filled up. He thrust you down on him a final few times before slipping out of you, his dick becoming flaccid. He pulls your head back and stares at your exhausted face; if you weren’t tired, you were now. Hiromi finds himself in a predicament as he realises he has nowhere to toss his used condom, so he rolls out of bed and takes it off, switching into his more neutral attire as you remain flat on the bed. The door to the room slams shut and you sit up, rubbing your eyes to prevent the drowsiness from winning. You climb back into your lingerie and put his shirt on, doing up the first few buttons. It was large on you, but it did the job of providing comfort. A few minutes go by and he returns, giving his full attention to the phone before he glances back your way.

“The trial got pushed back a few days; do you think there’s room for one more at your parents’ party?” He’s testing his luck—he’ll have nothing else to do in this city until the new date of the trial arrives.

“Don’t wear anything fancy then—I don’t need them asking me questions.”

“I won’t. That was good sex,” He sinks into the bed and pulls you into an embrace, tackling you to the mattress, “Do you want the whole cuddle thing or is it too soon for that?”

“It’s never too soon for a cuddle.” Your face lights up with a smile, squeezing him back while pressing your cheek into his chest.

“You lost by the way.”

“How? You initiated.”

“You came first. Since I won, I’d like to take you on a date. We can do anything you’d like; I have a week free.”

#higuruma x reader #higuruma smut #jjk higuruma #higuruma x y/n #higuruma hiromi #jjk #oneshot #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #alternate universe #smut

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bobafetts-princess · 1 day

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Surprise: The Sequel

Pairings: Ghost x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2800

Warnings: PiV, we wrap shit up in this one, a little butt stuff, spit kink, biting, cursing, choking. Reader is a little subby here. This is a fic centered on the reader ovulating and being really horny. Heed warnings accordingly.

Author notes: Yes, this was written when I personally was ovulating and I needed an outlet. Please enjoy 😊

Companion piece to Surprise

“My back fucking hurts,” you grumble to yourself, not really meaning for anyone to hear. But Soap, with his fucking bat ears, does.

“Wan’ me to massage it for yah?” He drawls in his thick Scottish accent. He’s been eying you all day and you can’t figure out why. You’re not dressed any different, you didn’t do your hair any different. You didn’t flirt with him, at least anymore than normal. Soap is the type of guy you can flirt with without realizing it. He’s soft and easy-going with a big personality and the ability to make anyone feel special.

“Mind your business, Soap,” snaps Simon-Ghost-Lieutenant (you’re not really sure what to call him anymore) as he comes in the door. You’re sitting at a desk, writing reports on your latest mission and Soap is at his desk on the left of yours, writing his own.

“Aye L.T. But I do feel like her business is my business,” he chuckles and Ghost flicks him a look as he gets up.

“Why’s your back hurt, Blue?” Ghost asks, hand gripping the back of your chair.

“Not sure, L.T.,” you say but then a cramp hits your lower belly. It’s not your period, definitely not your period, that was two weeks ago. So this means- “Damnit,” you curse under your breath.

“What’s wrong?” Both men ask at the same time, Soap moving to stand by Ghost. Another cramp hits your stomach and you have to stifle a groan.

“Nothing important,” you tell them both but they don’t believe you. But Price walks in, looking for an update on the reports and the subject is dropped. He’s standing over your shoulder and you don’t miss the way he keeps looking down at you, the easy way he smiles at you.

“Looking good today, Blue. Did you do something different with your hair?” Price mentions and you know he doesn’t mean it to be creepy. He’s genuinely trying to be nice and give you a compliment, you don’t get many when your literal job is to commit crimes for the sake of queen and country. But you know the real reason he’s looking at you different.

Your ovulation cycle hits harder than your menstruation cycle, the older you get. Your cramps are worse and men tend to notice you more. They flirt with you easier, they check you out with more purpose. Your skin clears and has this tone to that makes you look perpetually flustered. It’s all very flattering but also, quite annoying. Biology is doing its work, but you don’t want it to. The thing that drives you most insane is that you preen under the attention. You like being noticed when you’re ovulating. You like the way Ghosts eyes are dragging across your hips. You like the easy smile Johnny gives you when he’s flirting. You like the way Price’s eyes struggle to stay in their rightful place.

“Nah, just brushed it this morning, that’s all Captain,” there’s a flash of something in his eyes when you call him by his rank but you can’t unpack it right now. You stand, surprising Price and mumble “I’ll be back,” before you bolt.

Ghost waits an appropriate amount of time before he follows, shoving back his chair with some lame excuse so he can follow you.

He finds you in seconds, heading down the hallway in the general direction of his quarters. As a lieutenant, he gets his own space and as he watches your hips sway he’s thankful for it.

“Blue,” he calls out and you still.

“Not now, Ghost,” you say but you don’t move. His long strides catch up to you in no time and his hand presses into your back.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, and you sigh.

“I’m ovulating,” you tell him, pressing into his hand and relishing the feel of his warmth.

“What’s that mean?” He knows that’s your fertile period and you can get pregnant but he’s not sure on the specifics.

“I’m so horny,” you whine, twisting your neck to look up at him and he wants to dip down and run his nose alone the soft skin there. It takes your words a second to click but when they do, he’s shoving you down the hallway and into his room, locking the door behind him.

———————————

Ghost has you on your knees and you’re taking him. Your pussy is slick with your orgasms and your back is slick with sweat. You’re dropped down to your chest on the bed, fingers gripping the sheets as you cry out. It’s not helping though, because every one of Simon’s powerful thrusts pushes you up the bed.

“This fuckin’ pussy,” he snarls from under his mask. Since that day in the shower you’ve had this tryst going on regularly and it’s been satisfying for the both of you. “Fuck, you take me so well,” he grunts as his hand presses into your shoulders to hold you down. “Love when you submit to me,” he says but you think you can take it a step further. You move your hands from the sheets to behind your back, gripping your forearms as your face presses into the bed. Simon groans deeply as he slides his hand down your back to press down on your forearms. “Look so pretty takin’ my cock like this, Blue,” he snarls and you know he’s getting close. You’ve already cum several times, so you’re not concerned about finishing when he does, but Simon is. His hips ratchet up a notch and you hear the distinctive sound of something in Simon’s mouth. You’re about to peek over your shoulder to see what he’s doing when his thick thumb presses up against your asshole. You gasp and still underneath him as he presses circles into the tight ring.

“I’d love to watch you take me here,” he grunts before he pushes his thumb in. Your whole body tenses but you’re pinned. His hands are still pressing your own into your lower back and his finger in your ass is up to the first knuckle. You’re going to lose your mind, you can’t even scream because your face is pressed into the mattress. He continues pressing until he’s got his whole thumb in your ass and you’re gone. You’re so full, so thoroughly worked over that you when Ghost-Simon-whatever you’re calling each other these days, picks up his thrusts you’re blind with pleasure.

He’s putting you through the mattress, his hulking body pressing yours down. You break first, your body clamping down as you cum. He’s so heavy, so thick, and you’re so overwhelmed but Ghost isn’t done yet. He’s growling deep in his throat, snarling something about what a good little slut you are for him and you know he’s right at the edge of breaking. You feel something sharp against your shoulder and it takes you a few seconds to realize he sank his teeth into the soft flesh. He’d apparently never pulled his mask down after he’d wet his thumb and you feel his tongue soothe the sharp sting his bite left. You lay like that for a second, Ghost’s body laying across yours as you both pant with the exertion. Simon’s tongue licks a hot trail across your shoulder and up your neck, stopping at your ear.

“You’re a good fuck, Blue. Y’know that?” You laugh aloud because any kind of compliment coming from Simon Riley is noteworthy.

“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself,” you flash a grin at him as he peels off of you, moving to dispose the condom. He comes back and his mask is still pushed up to his nose and his grin would’ve knocked you over if you weren’t already laying down.

“Not so bad, eh? Do I need to split you apart on my cock again so you know how good I can be?” He chuckles, dark and dangerous as he crawls on the bed and stares down at you. His huge hand finds your throat, squeezing and reminding you just how dangerous he can be. But the only thing you feel right now is another how streak of lust through your nerve endings. Your nipples are tight and when he flicks them, a sharp gasp escapes your mouth. Ghost takes the opportunity at hand and pulls you up to him by the throat, shoving his tongue in your mouth. It’s not the first time you’ve kissed but it’s one of the only. You can feel him hardening against your thigh and you can feel how slick you are. His fingers squeeze as he trails his lips down your neck, over where his thumb is digging into the soft flesh.

You’re aching, ready to be filled again, when Ghost speaks in your ear.

“I want to taste you, Blue,” he grunts but you shake your head as best you can with his hand wrapped around your throat.

“Later. Want your cock,” you tell him and he nods, releasing you to get another condom. You desperately want to tell him not to use one, but you are smack in the middle of ovulating and the risk of pregnancy is much higher than if you weren’t. You’re not in a place where you can have a baby and you don’t think Simon is ready to be a father, he may not ever be. But god, the idea of dripping with his cum all day? It’s got you clenching between your legs.

Simon has the condom on, cock swinging between his thick thighs. He’d only managed to get his pants down to his knees the first time and the second time won’t be any different. He’s got a long sleeve shirt on bearing the British Army flag on it and even without all his tac gear he’s huge. Tall and bulky, with a menacing edge to him, you can see why people are terrified. But right now, all you are is horny. He slides between your thighs, lifting your hips and placing a pillow underneath them.

“Gonna take me?” He asks, circling a finger over your clit. You nod but he’s not content with that. “I asked you if you were going to take me, I expect an answer,” he growls from under his mask, pulled back down now.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” you breathe as he presses the head of his cock into you.

“Yes, Lieutenant, what?” He snaps, one hand on your tit, the other on the base of his cock.

“Yes, Lieutenant,-“ you gasp as he pushes into you.

“Go on,” he prompts, almost all the way in now. “Or I won’t fuck you. You can lay here and be my pretty little cock sleeve,” you clench around him, wishing he’d wrap one of those big hands around your throat again.

“Yes, Lieutenant, I’m gonna take all of your cock. Please, I want to take all of your cock.”

“Good girl,” he growls, low in your ear as his hand wraps back around your throat. His thrusts start slow but it doesn’t take long before he’s hitching one thigh up his back, the other pressing you down and pushing you to your limits. He’s more vocal this time, grunts and growls as he sits back on his heels to give himself more leverage. He’s got to be sensitive, it’s the second time in less than 30 minutes, and it shows. His fingers tighten every couple thrusts until you nearly can’t breathe but you know he wouldn’t hurt you. The other hand finds your tits, groping them and pulling at your nipples. He presses the thumb of the hand around your neck into your jaw until your mouth pops open. He pulls the mask above his mouth, leaning down, his eyes wide with question and you nod at him, sticking your tongue out in invitation. He gathers in his mouth before he leans down, spitting directly into your mouth before he closes your jaw and speaks.

“Swallow it.” You do as he asks, opening your mouth again and sticking out your tongue to show him. He groans deeply, gathering his spit again and spitting on your tongue. This time though, he keeps his thumb pressed into the hinge of your jaw so you don’t close it. “That’s my fuckin’ girl,” he snarls, his accent thicker as he pounds into you, “take everythin’ I fuckin’ give ya, don’t ya?” You nod desperately at him, mouth still open, tongue still covered in his spit. “Fuck yeah, ya do. I’m goin’ to cum, I know you’re close.” You nod at him again, pussy tightening as he spits into your mouth again, closing your jaw and telling you to swallow.

“Next time you’re gonna swallow my cum jus’ like that,” he tells you before he leans back, pressing a thumb against your clit. It only takes one, two, three swipes of his thumb before you’re over the edge, crying out his name and clinging to the hand still wrapped around your throat. He follows right along with you, slumping his heavy body against yours. “This will never get old,” he says as he rolls to the side slightly, still laying on you but not quite with his full weight.

“Yeah,” you agree, out of breath and worn down. Finally sated.

“Is it always like this when you ovulate?” He asks, picking himself up and disposing of the condom, for the second time. You nod as he comes back and picks up your underwear off the floor.

“It gets worse as I get older, like evolution is telling me to get a move on.” You stand as Simon holds your hand and helps you into your panties. “My cramps get worse and I get almost unbearably horny,” you tell him as he hunts down your tac pants and helps you into those too. He chuckles as he finds your sports bra, slipping it over your head.

“Maybe you should pop out a kid or two,” and your jaw drops.

“Yeah, sure! I’ll drop my whole life and have babies! Ruin my career, my tits, everything I’ve worked for just to give evolution the middle finger!” You exclaim, annoyed he’d even suggest it. But he’s fully laughing, searching for your shirt under the bed.

“I’s a joke, love. You don’t take those as well as you take my cock,” he husks, finding the army green tank and slipping it over your head. “Besides, it would be a shame to ruin these perfect tits,” he tells you, standing behind you and cupping said perfect tits. Fuck, you didn’t think you could go again but the way his thumbs are brushing over your nipples right now is making you question that. “Well, we better get back to writin’ our reports. Price’ll wonder why we’ve been gone so long,” he says, slapping you on the ass and striding out the door. You’re left panting and annoyed, but you follow after a reasonable amount of time and when you make it back to your desk, Soap is standing next to it looking like the cat that ate the canary.

“Aye, lass. Y’look good today. Exceptional even,” he drawls, and if you weren’t rolling your eyes you’d have noticed his own flick over to Ghost to gauge his reaction.

“Get off my desk, Johnny.”

“Will do, but would ya like t’have a drink with me tonight?” He’s leaned down, in your space, his bright eyes full of mischief.

“No.” You tell him, you’re not really annoyed with him but you are frustrated because Ghost left you horny and every bit as distracted as you were before he fucked you stupid. Your hand flashes out and connects with the inside of Soaps elbow, knocking him off his balance. Ghost chuckles from behind you at his own desk.

“Might wanna leave the girl alone, Johnny. I think she could kick your ass,”

“Ooh I might like that,” Johnny says, not fazed at all that you hit him. Ghost has to suppress a groan at the idea of watching you and Johnny wrestling for dominance. He’s pretty sure you would win and the idea of you fucking Johnny stupid the way he fucks you stupid has him hardening in his pants.

“Johnny,” you start, your voice all sugar sweet and sticky. “Can you do something for me?” Your tone is full of promise and Johnny’s eyes droop as he mutters a gentle ‘of course, lass’

“Go get me some Tylenol and coffee, Johnny,” you say, smacking him upside the head. Simon barks a laugh from behind you, and Johnny looks graciously indignant.

“Aye, lass. Whatever you want,” he’s no actually offended, but he played the part well. Off he slinks, to retrieve the items you’ve asked for and Ghost feels a rush of relief that he’s not the only person in this compound that cares for you.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod smut #call of duty smut

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natalyarose · 1 day

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𝐸𝓂𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒮𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓇 𝐸𝓃𝑒𝓇𝑔𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝒩𝑜𝒹𝒶𝓁 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓈 🌼🌞✨🍯

In the world of Vedic astrologers, there is a lot of remark about how in the age of the internet, rapid technological advancements, idols, overstimulation, 'fake news', and trend cycles as fast as lightning, we are living in times very influenced by nodal energy. Or at least, nodal (particularly Rahuvian) aspects of reality are increasingly 'in your face', accessible... If we take the concept of trends to be a very nodal phenomena for instance: throughout most of history, trends were not something you could observe so blatantly the way we do now.

A 'trend' was more likely to last an entire generation, and without the constant access to the past, present and future of the entire world that the internet now provides, you wouldn't even realise it's a trend. One would simply consider it 'normal'. People were not as aware of what the 'elites' are up to, what happens in other countries, mass information leakage etc. you are busy carrying your own burdens, and reaping your own joys, in your own bubble.

In older times, it's as simple as- the life you're born into is the life you focus on & work on UNLESS you are in a position of power (Solar energy) & therefore dealing more with the people at large & distant lands. Even still, your main focus is on your own kingdom/village/tribe. The average person is not going to really know what's going on in faraway places the way we now do. Sure, this nodal, constant consumption element of reality still existed, but it was less 'in your face'.

These days we have our 'black mirrors' (phones, laptops, etc) and they exist as a portal into- anywhere we desire. Lives & realities that don't even necessarily relate to our own. The need to be consciously aware of this is crucial in order to find the balance necessary.

Currently, everything is moving so fast, and there are constant forms of stimulation, movement, illusions and streams of consciousness to get lost in. So many rabbit holes to fall down without you even realising it that will drain & alienate you from your Solar energy.

Getting lost in trends and the lives of other people that in the physical realm, do not directly touch your own life, can be extremely draining to us. In an abstract way, this gives us insight into why it is that so many people feel depressed- lost, like the world is grey... there is constant fog, smoke & mirrors attempting to block our internal Sun, our personal unique destiny & divinity.

Ironically, I tend to think that the reason we're collectively so divided & lonely lately (there's many reasons, but in the way of esoteric takes), is the lack of Solar energy. People talk about how this society is missing the honouring of feminine (Lunar) energy, which is true- but only because of the lack of healthy Solar energy to support it.

I mean, a material manifestation of this is the.. beyond concerning (and somehow, rarely talked about?) statistics on the sperm count dropping. According to various scientific studies, we're looking at roughly a 50% decrease over 50 years... that's just- wow.

Another of many material manifestations of the way true Solar energy is becoming rarer/obscured: lately, the average suburban city is removing structures (Solar) & facilities people usually go to socialise and have fun- bars, clubs, cinemas, skate parks, venues hosting of events & festivals. Yes, the actual social aspect is more of a Lunar energy, but the Solar aspects (ie. the structures, the organised events, the provided food, etc) are the container for that Lunar energy to fall upon. For socialisation, intimacy, raw emotion & connection to exist healthily, we need some kind of structure, some Solar goodness to go off of so we're not just- floating entities in space talking to other floating entities in space about nothing in particular.

Yes, Solar energy speaks of individuality, paving your own path, ego, sense of self- but here's the thing. If we lack sense of self, how can we connect with people? How can we feel unity if there's no 'self' in the first place? How can we connect and share with people if we feel we have nothing to offer and we're all regurgitating the same stuff- there's no reason to talk or connect if everybody seems to be just.. lacking substance, robotic, or a void

Solar energy is our ego, our happiness, our light. It represents that substance. Someone speaking from a place of Solar light is tapping into a place of authenticity & experience, whereas when we are lost in nodal energies; we are moreso becoming a conduit for other people's ideas and thoughts we've heard about, forgetting our own footing in reality.

I feel like- no, I've seen- time and time again how this current society can delude us into believing that the way to leave your mark on the world & make the world a better place, is to get lost in others. To always be in the know, informed and on trend when it comes to everything outside of yourself. It feels like we are being taught that if we aren't carrying the weight of the whooole world on our shoulders, we are selfish or living under a rock.

On the one hand, it is definitely important that we have some sort of a spiritual awareness of what's going on in the lives of others (be it friends, relatives, or people in other countries) but on the other hand, this constant focus on other people takes away from you having the chance to make a true difference and BE a beacon of light.

Sometimes I see something dark on the news, very dark.. I'm in tears, I'm anxious, I'm asking the heavens why these things happen... how is it fair? I'm praying, I'm sucked in and can't look away from what I'm seeing because it feels like I have a duty to at least witness the suffering if others have to go through it. There have been times it's just debilitated me; until I realised something-

I am worth more to the world, the people suffering included, by focusing on fostering beauty, joy & goodness in my own life. I'm not helping the world by crying in my bed unable to feed or take care of myself because I'm distraught about something I saw on my phone. It's only impairing my ability to remain in a high vibrational state that I can create & share with the world from. People who truly make a difference are often the ones who either innately embody or have cultivated a very Solar nature- 'water off a ducks back'. It shouldn't be about ignoring or suppressing emotions, so much as using emotion wisely.

This doesn't mean it is best to completely ignore the world or be cold or 'heartless', but moreso that you need to be holding a torch for yourself in order to even begin to light the way for others. Those who are suffering generally do not want others to suffer for them (especially if they can't physically do anything to help)- that only creates... more suffering. I know in times of my own suffering, not once did I think 'damn, I wish someone was as sad and destitute as me' lol

I thought 'man, I really would love to be around people & circumstances that are positive, uplifting & nourishing so that I can feel that warmth again'.

If every single person in the world was utterly debilitated and absorbed in other realities, other people's lives, neglecting their own 'karma' & their own blessings, who would be there for people to look to for hope? Who would be the blueprint for what happiness actually looks like? In a world without strong, solar entities, who can those who are suffering look up to to imagine a better life?

Fill your own cup first!

Sometimes the best thing you can do for the world, is to manifest your own beautiful, magical, pure life- whatever that means for YOU. Build your own foundation so that you can be an inspiration & comfort for those who need it, while being stable and strong within your own being.

A lighthouse doesn't go out to sea and get into the storm with the ships. It doesn't go chasing the ships down to save them. It simply stays where it is, strong, radiating light and indiscriminate- unconcerned with who 'gets' the light. Trusting that the universe is working its magic and the right people are benefiting from your radiance. That is what staying true to yourself & your own unique destiny looks like.

I see too many people (myself included, but working on it..) with bleeding hearts. Completely lost and overwhelmed by the struggles, thoughts, opinions, beliefs & chaos of others, feeling as though they can't just sit and watch, they have to do something about it. Or if they can't do something about it, they have to at least feel it, delve into all that emotion. Instead of being the lighthouse and realising that nurturing yourself = raising the vibration of the world, which = one more person living in truth & happiness for others to look up to- they are missing that opportunity and becoming drained/psychologically in pain.

Do what makes you happy. It's so simple, yet so.. not! It's a skill, and it takes discipline & sometimes what feels like active rebellion in order to refrain from abandoning yourself and getting lost in something or someone else; whether that thing is positive or negative... 🌸

Very long story short - the most helpful gift you can give to the world, is your joy & faith in your own destiny.

To anyone who read all this, have a beautiful day and if you can, go do something fun lol, or create something ♡

note: I just want to make sure it's clear that I'm not saying nodes = bad & Sun = good or anything like that! Every planet, every celestial force plays an important role in life on Earth and the nodes have their own magic too. This post is just talking about the importance of staying in touch with your Solar light rather than getting completely and utterly lost in the pull of the nodes. I also want to add that of course sometimes there are unique occasions, where plunging into the darkness with somebody else is exactly what you need to do- but if that's the case, that'll be a part of your 'destiny', so even still you will be embodying your light if that makes sense. Never abandon your light.

#vedic astrology #nakshatras #astrology #rahu #ketu #nodes #sun #solar #vedic astro observations #vedic astro notes #aesthetic #sidereal astrology #astro notes #esoteric

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irishmammonagenda · 2 days

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Summertime Shenanigans-Obey Me X Reader

Summary: You go to the Celestial Realm on a mission, and end up finding out about a horror occurring all over different afterlives. With Lucifer's upcoming birthday, chaos ensues. Word Count: 6.3k+ Warnings: more than half of this is crack btw. female reader. Religious references. OCs involved, mentions of mythology, very bad representation of a very certian country. very much a Lucifer x reader bc its his birthday <3

post dividers by @saradika-graphics

You seem to keep finding yourself in the Celestial Realm these days, which makes sense seeing as you did get reincarnated as an angel so it is technically your realm. But still, you've visited the Celestial Realm as an angel way more times than you'd visited the Human Realm as a human.

Nothing but your thoughts occupy you as you climbed over the fence that bordered the official entrance to the Celestial Realm. Technically you could´ve just walked through the gate like a fucking normal person, or y´know used your wings to fly over the massive fence, but climbing was funner.

When you do make it over the fence, you make a beeline for the Celestial Gardens, passing Saint Peter on the way. The man just looks at you and sighs inwardly muttering something about how he was not crucified upside down just to watch some crackhead climb over the gates of heaven, he turns away from you and moves to greet a new arrival, being the nosy fucker that you are, you decide to watch from behind a cloud.

Peter can see you by the way. You're not fooling anyone, he's just choosing to ignore you.

Peter smiles at the young woman with hair as orange as a runny yolk. He nods to her. "Hello, and welcome to Heaven. I'm Saint Peter."

The woman's eyes widen and she looks around. "Heaven? But...that can't....I'm not..-"

Peter sighs, looking at the pendant of Mjölnir around her neck and nodding to himself. "Valhalla is currently under construction, again. We in Heaven have agreed to take all coming to Valhalla and host them for a few weeks until the damage is fixed. Again."

The woman lets her quickened breathing slow down, she mumbles weakly. "O-oh right...thank you...but..Valhalla's damaged, how?"

"Nothing much, just Derek."

"Derek?"

Peter shrugs, you tilt your head from where you're hiding behind your cloud. "He's just some guy. He's been appearing in every plane of Afterlife and, pardon my french, fucking things up."

The woman cracks her knuckles. "But why?"

Peter shrugs, "Because Derek's a dickhead."

"I see...."

Peter hands her a pamphlet before pointing her in the direction of the temporary accomodation set up for Norse Devotees before turning around and yanking the cloud off of you.

"Michael's where he usually is. Also, please stop climbing the fence, you're scaring the doves."

"Who's Derek and what's he got against Valhalla?"

Peter just sighs, "He's from Illinois."

"Understandable. I'm off to go see Michael, Bye Peter!"

"Goodbye MC! Use the gate next time!" Is all Peter shouts after you, before turning and having to explain to another disgruntled newcomer that a man called Derek exists so they have to stay in Heaven for a week.

After making it to the Celestial Gardens, you find Michael, Jesus and surprisingly, Satan huddled together looking at a crystal ball. You stop in your tracks, "What are you guys doing?"

"Making a gnome." Michael answers at the same time Jesus and Satan say, "Watching people debate theology."

You blink, sitting down in between Jesus and Satan. The former groaning with his head in his hands, exasperation written all over his tanned face, strands of dark wavy hair fall over his expression as eyes as rich as soil squeeze shut. An unusual sight to say the least. "If these people don't stop calling my mother a whore..."

"Yucky." You make a face.

"Very yucky." Michael agrees. "It's a shame we're not allowed to smite humans anymore."

You tilt your head looking at the Archangel. "You'd smite someone for calling another person a whore?"

Michael nods, golden curls and coils bouncing around as he does so, some paper shavings falling out from the confines of the coils like dandruff, ruby red eyes portray seriousness he doesn't normally express as he looks up from where he's giving the gnome insanely big ears. "Well no one messes with Mary."

Jesus nods in agreement.

Satan pats Michael on the shoulder, "Damn straight."

You look between the three, making note of Michael's green robe tied in such a way half of his chest is visible. Said visible skin is covered in glue and paper. "So, why are you torturing a gnome, and why are you guys watching humans debate theology?"

Satan shrugs, watching in the crystal ball as the Jehovah's Witnesses' enter the room to debate. "Funny."

Jesus smiles, "Interesting, but also frustrating."

Michael looks between the two, now attempting to paper maché more hair onto the gnome, in the process somehow getting newspaper stuck to his dark skin. "I'm an artist."

Satan gives you a hug, standing up and stretching his legs. "Well I better get going. If I leave fast enough I won't have to deal with Saint Peter on the way out."

Michael whistles, still not looking up from the gnome. "This about the upside down cross symbol?"

Satan sighs. "Not my fault people think it's my symbol not his...."

Michael discreetly glances over to Jesus who is explaining to you what's been happening in the debate he and Satan were watching. "Well I mean, getting crucified is kind of a bad experience sometimes."

Jesus makes a face at him. Michael raises his hands. "Okay...all the time."

Satan gives his uncle a look before he waves goodbye to you. "See you back at home, yeah?"

"Mhm! But don't tell Lucifer I'm here or I was here."

Satan smirks. "Only if you don't tell him I was here."

"Pinky promise?" You hold your pinky out.

"PInky promise." Satan intertwines your pinkies before waving goodbye to Jesus. "Bye Jesus! Sorry about the whole Desert thing! Bye Michael thanks for the blackmail material."

"Goodbye my favourite nephew!"

"Goodbye Satan." Jesus pauses the crystal ball and smiles kindly at you. "So what brings you to the Celestial Realm?"

You stiffen. "Oh yeah....I need to talk to Michael..."

Michael pauses from where the massive ears for the gnome have broken apart due to their heaviness. "If it's about Derek I already have a meeting with Father, Hera, The Dagda, and Odin later on today about the situation." He drawls boredly, before grinning, "But don't worry, I'll be sure to tell you all the details afterwards!"

You blank, "Well-...uh...it's not about Derek...." Jesus senses some sort of emotional turmoil from you, and places a tanned, scarred hand on your shoulder comfortingly.

Michael pauses from his horrific gnome creation, looking up at you with a raised eyebrow. Ruby red eyes staring into your soul. "Oh...then what's it about? You seem nervous."

Jesus stands up, giving you a pat on the head. "Well I'll give you two your privacy. Good luck with whatever it is, MC." The man gives you a knowing smile before walking away, the sun shining on his dark waves. You watch him leave, missing his comforting presence as you turn your attention onto the Archangel.

Time to ask him the biggest most important question in your afterlife.

meanwhile...

"Psst, kid. Yo kid." A man wearing a baseball cap asks from the fence bordering heaven, a cherub looks up at him, her small head tilting in confusion.

"Who are you?" She asks, stumbling onto her tiny feet as she walks towards the fence.

"I'm a friend....I got locked out of Heaven on accident and need help getting back in!" The strange man says, running his hands over his buzz cut, he adjusts his Chicago cubs cap. "I just need you to let me in!"

The little girl blinks at him, her small ringlet curls sway slightly in the light breeze as she gets closer to the fence. "But I dunno you...."

The man's lips tighten for a moment before morphing into a smile. "But I'm your friend! Are we not friends?" He says, allowing his face to fall into a sad expression.

The little girl looks up at him, still a few yards away from the fence, just out of arm's reach of the man. "My daddy sayed I'm not allowed to talk to strangers...."

"Oh really?" The wolfish man smiles. "And who's your daddy?"

"God!" She grins. "Well so is my other daddy and mummy but they're still on earth!"

God? He pales. "Oh...right....Well I'm still your friend, aren't I?" He reaches a hand through the fence, he needed to get into heaven for his plan God Dammit! The hand inches closer to the cherub.

"What's going on here?" A voice cuts through the silence along with tanned skin and ash-blond hair. The man retracts his hands from through the fence immediately.

"Oh...just got lost and couldn't find the main gates!....I was trying to get help...!...Is all..."

Raphael nods slowly, looking from the man to the cherub. "So you asked a cherub?"

"She was the only person I'd saw!"

"Guards patrol around the perimeter of the realm. Surely you could've flagged down one of them?"

"O-oh."

Raphael's lips twitch upwards slightly in something that could hardly be described as a smile. "No problem. I can direct you to where you need to go." The angel's hand twitches and a spear starts to materialise.

"Hey Michael can I borrow that sellotape for a second?"

"Sure! What for?" Michael tilts his head, still waiting on this very important thing you're supposed to be asking him.

You whsitle, pulling up your shirt and sellotaping under your breast on the left side of your ribs, where your pact mark with Lucifer is. "I can't risk Luci finding this out yet...."

Michael raises an eyebrow playfully.

"So basically...I uh...I kind of need to ask you something..."

Michael grins, red eyes sparkling. "You can ask me anything MC!"

"I...I need your blessing."

"My blessing?" Michael's brows furrow confusedly. "For what?"

"Well you see...."

You explain, and upon seeing Michael's darkening expression, you nearly gulped.

Raphael sighed in annoyance. The strange man had booked it and ran away, leaving him with the cherub, he stiffens slightly as he meets her big hazel eyes.

"...Hello."

"Hi! I know you! You're Raphael!"

Raphael nods. "Yes I am."

The cherub grins, her chubby cheeks making her eyes crinkle slightly. "I'm Evangeline! But I can't spell that so I just write Eva!"

The Archangel nods awkwardly, attempting to smile at the child. "Well that's great, Evangeline....I need to get back to the Celestial Palace...." The man says and begins walking, the child starts walking with him.

"That's fun! Do you always have spears with you?"

"Yes." Raphael answers disjointedly.

"Wow! I always wanted to hold a spear! Can I hold your spear Mr Raphael?"

"That would be dangerous, Evangeline." He answers awkwardly.

The child pouts. "Aw, okay!"

A moment of silence.

The cherub tugs on his trouser leg. "How come your hair's all grey?"

"It just is, I guess."

"But why?"

"God made me that way I suppose." He replies awkwardly.

"Okay!" Evangeline grinned. "God made me with weird eyes! Sometimes they look more green or more brown!"

Raphael blinks, this child was almost as socially inept as Michael. "That's because your eyes are hazel."

This was going to be a long walk.

Michael glares at you, straightening his shoulders to make them seem broader, and even with the mess of paper stuck to his skin and face, he still looks threatening.

As unusually serious as you'd ever seen him, it almost hurts to keep his gaze.

He's stopped his arts and crafts and instead focuses all of his attention on you. "I'm going to need you to repeat that, MC."

You audibly gulp.

Lucifer sighs from where he's seated in the student council room. The paperwork feeling more suffocating than usual. Almost as if someone had taped over his mouth and nose very badly. The door creaks open and he looks up to see Mammon.

The Avatar of Greed looks around the room before cursing and turning to walk out again.

"Mammon."

"Oh hiya Lucifer!" Mammon says, looking disgruntled.

"What are you doing." Lucifer sighs, knowing better than to frame it as a question.

"Lookin' for MC. Can't find'er anywhere...."

The first born sits up straighter, something flashing in his ruby eyes. "You can't find MC?"

"Nope. And I've checked ev'rywhere! Even the fuckin' attic. I asked Beel but he said he hasn' saw'er since this mornin'."

Lucifer feels something swirl in his chest. "I'll ask Diavolo."

"Thanks...Me and Beel are teamin' up and lookin' around the classrooms."

Lucifer pinches his hooked nose.

Diavolo sits in the meeting room of the palace, a man of granduer sits across from him. Long silvery hair frames his timeworn face, a well groomed beard grows from his face, as he enjoys a cup of Barbatos' tea.

Diavolo's brows furrow. "I just don't see us being able to do anything about it without potentially hurting our already strained relationship with the Human Realm."

The man nods, glancing down at his coarse hands with his one eye. He speaks with a Scandinavian accent. "Those were our thoughts as well. Killing him could be a bad diplomatic move."

The Demon Prince nods gravely to the God. "I heard from my meeting with Helios that this mortal journeyed into realms unknown and came out...different."

Odin scratches his chin in thought. "I say we find a way to trap him." He closes his eye. "I do believe this figure was spotted outside of the Celestial Realm."

Diavolo nods seriously, a small grin on his face. "Well at least we know the general area he's in."

"But you and I both know we can't kill him without the high possibility of it backfiring on us." The Revered warrior attests.

Diavolo nods in agreement before a knock on the door is heard. The Demon Prince stands up, excusing himself to open the door, revealling a frazzled Lucifer.

"Oh hello Lucifer, what's the matter?"

"I apologise for interrupting Lord Diavolo but have you seen MC? We believe she's gone missing..."

Diavolo's eyes widen in worry. "No, have you tried calling her?"

Lucifer shakes his head, Odin regards the scene with vague interest. "Goes to voicemail, she isn't receiving our texts either."

Diavolo sitffens.

"If I may interject, MC is the human-turned-angel who managed to keep her pacts even after her rebirth?" The Norse God asks.

Lucifer nods.

"Well then, she's in the Celestial Realm right now with Archangel Michael."

"Thank you. Thank you." The Avatar of Pride says breathlessly. Youre safe, possibly scheming, but you're safe. "How did you know that?"

Odin points to his eye, or lack thereof.

"Oh right...wisdom..." Lucifer blinks, the adrenaline wearing off making it easier to think straight and also feel shame. "Well thank you Odin and Diavolo. I apologise for interrupting."

Diavolo grins. "It's never an interruption if it's about MC's safety."

Lucifer leaves, shutting the door gently behind him, Diavolo and the Mighty Odin continue their discussion.

Speaking of your safety, you're not exactly feeling very safe right now. You should make a wikihow article called 'How to Turn Archangel Michael into a Feral Beast in Literally One Sentence!'

Said Archangel has his narrowed eyes on you. "Lucifer is my baby brother...."

"He's thousands of years old if you think about it." You smile awkwardly.

"Still just a baby."

"He's the Avatar of Pride! LIterally the Demon Prince's Righthand man!"

"And that's a great preschool activity." Michael huffs.

You sigh, looking down at the spear currently being pointed at you neck. Michael makes a sound akin to a snarl. "Look MC. I know that Lucifer is his own person. I know that even though he's still an edgy little teenager slash toddler in my eyes he is technically an adult. But he's still my baby brother."

The Archangel lowers his spear, turning around, golden coils bouncing as he does so, almost deflating with him. "He's just....those two minutes spent without him were the hardest two minutes of my life...except of course the multiple minutes in the Great Celestial War."

You walk closer to Feral Michael, who turns back around to face you, a fire in the crimson eyes he shares with his twin brother. "I know he's all grown up now, but he's still my baby brother, and I know that you're one of my closest friends MC."

He closes the distance between you, cornering you into a tree. Face stony and grave. "But so help me God, if you ever do anything to hurt him....and I don't mean having a simple argument or whatever...If you ever truly do something to hurt him...you're going to wish there was a realm out there that could shield you from me."

He pauses, moving away from you and grinning his usually playful grin. "Are we understood."

He wasn't asking.

"Yes. Very understood." You nod. "I would never hurt Luci like that....ever...."

The blond pulls one of his golden curls so it stretches completely straight before letting go and watching it coil back up again. "Well....I'm sorry I went all...like that on you...big brother instincts?"

You shrug. "Reminds me of Lucifer that one time this witch genuinely threatened Mammon with a grimoire. That shit was brutal."

"Must've been." Michael whistles. "So...have you decided how you're going to do it?"

"Well sort of...but I was hoping you'd help me shop for the ring?"

Michael's grin widens.

Derek Wisconsin made it away just barely with his life. He had almost convinced that little girl to let him into the Celestial Realm! He really almost did! But then that Seraph (or was he an Archangel?) guy Raphael just had to stop him!

He pants, beads of sweat running down his forehead. Taking off his Chicago Cubs cap and sighing in relief at the feeling of a free bald buzzcut head.

Derek groans, peeling off sunburnt skin while the door creaks open. He never should've went to somewhere as sunny as the Celestial Realm without putting sunscreen on first.

Derek might've been one millionth-gazillionth italian but he definitely did not tan like one. When he was in the sun he burned more than a petrol fire on a hot summer's day. There must be ginger genes in him somewhere.

"Derek. You need to stop this. All of this attempted destruction of the afterlife....it's...it's not right Derek." A voice sounds behind him. Another man, with an identical buzzcut and baseball hat, except this man had glasses.

"Shut up Eric." Derek grunts. "I'm doing what has to be done so the cubs win every match they play."

"You're doing this for baseball?" Eric asks, adjusting his glasses further up his nose.

"Baseball is our life Eric."

"No. Baseball is your life, Derek. I like ice hockey better and you know it!" Eric bites his bottom lip, arms crossed over his chest as he looks at his friend.

"That's just because you're half Canadian." Derek scoffs. "Go listen to Justin Beiber you race traitor."

"American isn't a race, Derek."

Eric looks at his friend, before taking off his hat. "You can have your spare fucking hat back, Derek." The half Canadian reaches the door before turning around. "Oh and by the way, Justin Beiber fucking sucks. Canadians don't claim him."

The door slams shut.

Derek is left in silence.

Evangeline giggles, climbing around Raphaels shoulders, he winces and brings up an uncertain hand to stabilise her. With one leg on each shoulder and Raphael holding both of her legs for stability the little angel cheers.

"Wow! I'm so high up! I'm so high up! Do ya see me?!"

"Yes....I see you." The angel nods slowly, continuing his now very delayed walk to the Celestial Palace.

"I love being up high! I can't wait till my wings grow some more and then I can fly!"

"..I'm sure you'll be a good flyer." The ashy haired angel grunts out awkwardly.

"Yay!"

Forget almost dying in the Great Celestial War, this was the scariest moment of his life.

You blink at Michael's retracting form. He sat you down on a bench and gave you crayons and a colouring book, before telling you to wait on him finishing this meeting about that one guy Derek.

You sigh and begin colouring in a picture of a clown and making it Michael. Fuck that guy, you're not a kid!

Upon hearing footsteps you look up. "Oh hey Raphael! Who's the kid?"

"I'm Evangeline!" The cherub grins fidgeting and manuevering herself off of Raphael's shoulders and waddling up to you. "Who are you?"

"I'm MC, I'm Raphael's friend!" You smile at the child. Raphael gives you a grateful look. You never knew he could be that expressive.

"Me too! I'm Mr. Raphael's bestest ever friend!" The girl grins excitedly, swinging while standing, going back and forth to leaning on her heels then to leaning on her tiptoes.

"Well! I'm happy to hear that Evangeline! Would you like to do some colouring in?"

"Yes please!"

Raphael sits beside you, feeling the need to worship the ground you walk on. His ordeal of dealing with a child is over.

After a very enlightening zoom call meeting and bidding goodbye to Odin. Diavolo calls a very spooky number.

The phone is answered a crackly voice speaks through it.

"I need your help. We know where Derek is staying but as Gods, Angels and Demons....we can't kill him...but you can."

A chuckle crackles through the phone speaker. "Send me his Location. I'll see what I can do."

[A Week or So Later....]

Derek wipes the sweat off of his brow as he begins his operation. Making bombs that aren't molotov cocktails is very difficult, thank god for Wikihow.

Unfortunately setting them down strategically in order to blow up the Celestial Realm is quite difficult.

"You seem to be having some troubles with that." A voice cuts through the silence.

"Oh yeah I am-" Derek begins before turning around and staring wide-eyed at the ivory-haired intruder like a deer in headlights. He immediately stands up. "Who are you?"

"The name's Solomon." The sorcerer gives the man a closed mouth smile. "Normally I don't interfere with the business of the Celestial Realm...but seeing as they asked, and a very close friend of mine is an angel, and also seeing as I think baseball is largely pointless...I don't think it's a very logical gameplan to let you live..."

Derek splutters. "Y-you can't!"

Solomon opens his eyes, something unreasonable in those ocean blue irises. "Oh but I can!" He grins. "It's one thing to try and destroy things, it's another to attempt to blow up multiple plains of existence with bombs you made using a WIkihow tutorial just because of baseball."

"I-...I just!" Derek backs away, Solomon follows, absentmindedly using magic to disable every bomb.

"You just what? We know you're from Illinois, but have some sense Derek." Solomon shakes his head. "You are the worst stereotype of Americans I've ever seen. I looked into your file. Your surname is literally Wisconsin."

Derek grunts. "You don't understand my passion. I'll kill everyone for those baseballers."

"You've killed several people after highjacking a bus in the Human Realm. You're a danger to yourself and others. Plus you've one too many jokes about teenage girls 'doing it better'. Bye bye Derek." Solomon gives him another closed eye smile, humming over the screaming and the sound of crackling flames.

When all is done and gone, the sorcerer takes out his DDD, alerting the others that it's been taken care of.

[Yet another Week Later...]

A flash of celestial light bounces off of every wall and surface in your room. You yelp, ivory wings and golden halo jutting out in your startledness. Did you do this? No. You couldn't have. Maybe subconsciously..? How were you going to explain a flash of celestial light to Lucifer? He was going to kill you! Maybe not kill just yet seeing how he reacted the first time you died. But! You were an angel now, which meant no more fragile human body, which meant Lucifer would hypothetically have no qualms stringing you up! Oh God this was it wasn´t it? You were going to-

The light dims, clearing completely, a silhouette appears in its wake. Phew! Guess it wasn't you nearly exorcising everyone in the House of Lamentation then. (Even though it wouldn't exorcise anyone anyway seeing as that wasn't how demons worked. But hey, you were disoriented.) Your relief was short lived, seeing as there was actually someone in your room.

You grab your lamp and hold it up like its a baseball bat. You were prepared to swing, what you weren't prepared for however; was the figure racing towards you. You screech as you're pulled into a bone-crushing hug. Your grip on the lamp relaxes and so do you when you realise just who it is.

"Michael?! What the fuck are you doing here?!" You hiss. "You scared the life out of me!"

Michael loosens his grip, his signature grin on his handsome face, crimson eyes shining. "I don't think you'd die that easily a second time. And besides, I have actual proper serious business this time."

You step out of the hug. Giving him an indignant look as he gets distracted with your room, he walks to your wall, stepping over the bag he brought with him and begins making what can only be described as his 'Lucifer Impression' in your mirror, which was essentially him scrunching up his face so he looked constipated then waggling his ring adorned finger in disapproval.

"You're here for serious reasons. You?"

"Well you didn't have to say it like that." Michael remarked, turning around to face you so fast you get whiplash, so does Michael apparently. His golden curls had been done up in intricate braids, with rose gold braiding rope helping to keep half of it up and away from his face, he'd added jewels and gems in charms hanging from the braids themselves, a fact he seemed to have forgotten until, with the force and speed he twisted his head at, his hair swung back and then forward again, hitting him right square in the mouth. You snorted.

He glares at you. "Don't laugh! Do you know how long I had to sit still for to get these?! 12 hours! I am so lucky I'm not tender-headed!"

"Holy fuck?! 12 hours?! And now they're attempting to assassinate you." You nod dutifully, "Atleast they're pretty."

"Pretty is the least they could be. Especially when Raphael almost poked my eye out when he was measuring the braiding rope. So not only is my hair trying to assassinate me, so is Raphael!" Michael said, sitting on your bed cross-legged, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles in his white gold accented blazer suit that looked suspiciously similar to Lucifer's. Damn twins.

You paused. "Raphael does your hair?"

Michael smiles, "Oh yeah! It's his secret hobby! So don't tell anyone!" The Archangel closes his eyes, as if imagining an era long passed. "He saw me and Lucikins trying to do Lilith's hair once and was sold."

You don't comment on the dopey expression. Michael continues. "Raphael never liked playing most games. He's like Lucikins in that way. They both think they're so grown up....He was normally with Simeon writing their little short stories together, seeing as they're both the nerdiests nerds of all the nerds...but he did see the end result of me and Luci braiding flowers into Lilith's hair...we did it with Asmo too, to cheer him after he nearly fell through a cloud. Cue the next day, Raphael asking to do my hair. Being the amazing big brother I was- I accepted!" Michael makes a face. "I think that was the first time I felt true fear."

You laughed evilly. "I should do your hair sometime."

The way Michael looks at you is akin to a deer in headlights. "Absolutely not. One adorable maniac obsessed with spears doing my hair is enough for me thank you very much. I do not need two."

"What if Luke asked?" You tilt your head.

"Jokes on you MC! Luke already likes to do my hair! He puts clips and flowers and bows and all in it!" Michael sticks out his tongue.

"Oh I cannot wait to see that." You grin.

Michael gives you another look, with his ruby red eyes looking so disapprovingly, the resemblance between his younger brother, (by two whole minutes!; he'd add gloatingly at any other time) is uncanny.

You put your hands up defensively. Deciding changing the topic would be a good idea seeing as you would like to not die a second time, (technically a third if you count Belphie.) so, you tilt your head. "You never told me what you were actually doing here."

"Oh yeah!" Michael nods. "Thanks for reminding me." He moves to grab the bag from the center of the room where he appeared. You forgot about that bag.

"Michael I swear to God if you've put a live pigeon in there I'm going to scream." You whisper frightendly.

The Archangel arks his head up to you in a flash, wincing when a braid hits him across the mouth again. He raises an eyebrow. "No? Why would I have a pigeon?"

You sigh in relief. "I had a dream last night that Pigeons caused the Second Coming of Christ."

Michael chuckled. "Second Coming of Christ doesn't exist, MC. I just got bored while John of Patmos was writing the Book of Revelation. Thought it'd be nice to set up for a sequel."

You blink. "How are you not a demon?"

"I dunno. Didn't really feel like it at the time. The lack of sunlight in the Devildom makes me depressed. Plus I'd rather not take vitamin D pills, it seems like so much work." Michael shrugged.

Made sense. "So what's in the bag?"

Michael grins excitedly, if he had a tail it would be wagging like a helicopter and knocking everything in your room that wasn't nailed to the surfaces down. "Well! My most amazingest underling! Can you tell me what date it is?"

"June 5th?"

"Which as you know, is the eve of the best and worst day in history."

You raise a brow. "Best and worst?"

"Best because it's the day I was born, worst because 2 minutes later my lovely adorable little baby brother was born." He laughs.

"If Lucifer ever heard you calling him your lovely adorable little baby brother I think he'd start a war."

"How do you think the War of the Bucket started?"

"Excuse me?"

Michael doesn't answer any of your questions, and instead chooses to finally show what's in the bag. A gnome.

Not just any gnome oh no. One that looked suspiciously like it was made by the same person who made the suspiciously bad looking gnome that looked like Michael that Mammon would hide the spare key to the backdoor of the House of Lamentation behind.

This one however did not have Michael's dark skin, or the horrible neon yellow hair painted on. Oh no, this one had pale skin, another DnD-esque cape on, except with the vampire looking collar, it had black hair with shiny metalic silver streaks in it. So that was the gnome Michael was torturing.

You hold back your laughter. "...Why?..."

"It's a birthday gift MC, you know? the things people give to other people on their birthdays? I mean you look a bit dim, you might not've heard of it."

"Did you-" You try to hold back your cackling. "Did you use clay-" You nearly double over, suddenly your knees feel quite weak. "Did you use clay to...-make Lucifer's ears...-massive?-"

"Why yes I did, and thank you for noticing!"

"Kind of hard not to notice them."

Michael grins, "Wanna help me sneak it into his office?"

You perk up. "Do I ever?!"

Lucifer always finds himself quite melancholy on his birthday. Somehow the date always enjoys to remind him of his first brother. Not that he doesn't miss the idiots he lives with now. If he looks at Satan attempting to annoy him every waking hour in enough of a squint, it almost feels as if Michael is in the Devildom.

Speaking of; it really feels like Michael is in the Devildom today.

Lucifer shrugs it off. As it was his birthday he allowed himself a lie-in. Barbatos had eased his workload for the surrounding week, something Lucifer was quite grateful of.

Sighing, he walked slowly from the kitchen, coffee cup in hand; he might as well get his paperwork done now so he can spend the rest of the day with his loved ones before maybe he'd let Cerberus out of the underground tomb and into his room to sit by him whilst he listened to cursed records and enjoyed a finely aged bottle of demonus. (Not that Cerberus was a pet! Or that he was pampered! He was purely a guard dog! Stop suggesting otherwise Simeon, Barbatos, Diavolo and probably even Michael! Lucifer was not soft!)

The planning of what was essentially his day off was just prolonged enough that he was snapped out of his thoughts once he reached the door to his office.

Upon opening it, he wished he hadnt.

Atop his desk sits the most blasphemous rendition of him he's ever seen, that's including every lifetime christian movie that thinks he and Satan are the same person.

The gnome wasn't hand crafted but it was certainty hand-edited. It was an ugly thing, though, the more Lucifer looked at it, the more innocently charming it became, but in an ugly way.

He'd place it beside the Michael Gnome tonight, at least the ugly blasphemous gnome version of himself could be with his ugly blasphemous twin's gnome version of himself.

As he went to move it off of his desk, he noticed the note attached to the gnome's leg.

To my adorable little baby brother,

Lucifer's eye twitched. Had Michael still not learnt to call him that? Even after the War of the Bucket?! Even after the Emu War?! He was going to rip that Angel's head clean off.

You're so lucky to share a birthday with me! How unfortunate you were a late show, tut tut tut. Should've been born quicker, Lucikins. :o

Lucifer's wings and horns popped out. 'Lucikins?' That nickname again? Oh, Michael was a dead man.

I know you'll love my present. The gnome looks just like you! Though sadly, I ran out of clay so I couldn't make the ears any bigger.

Unconsciously, Lucifer reached up to cover his ears, but caught himself. Damned Michael! Their ears are literally the same size! He takes a deep breath.

Anyway, happy birthday my adorable, squishy cheeked, starry eyed, little baby brother! Maybe one day you'll grow up to be big and strong just like your big bro! Lots of Love to my baby brother: Michael xoxo

Lucifer felt rage course through his body at such a rate, he had to turn around to make sure he didn't pop out another Satan. Thank Diavolo he didn't. If he did, Michael was taking them home.

Fine. If Michael wanted to hide in the Devildom, call his ears big, and then insist that Lucifer was his 'baby brother' despite the fact he was barely even two minutes older!--then Lucifer wasn't going to sit idly by.

He takes his DDD out of his pocket. Cue the dramatic music.

"Hello, Luke? Can you pass the phone to Simeon please? Yes Thank you." Lucifer pauses, hearing rustling and then finally Simeon's voice on the other end of the DDD. "Hello Simeon. How would you like to travel with me to the Celestial Realm, I fear I haven't been in a while."

Simeon pauses. "...Why?..."

Lucifer swallows thickly, a smirk overtaking his features. "I'm planning on paying Michael a visit."

"He gave you another gnome didn't he?"

"...Okay. Goodbye Simeon."

"No way...He did!"

"Goodbye Simeon." By the time Lucifer hangs up, he can hear the angel laughing on the other end of the phone.

The Avatar of Pride sits down on his chair, covering his face in his hands he grinned. Oh he is so going to enjoy getting Michael back for this one.

And hey, if a few garden flamingos with golden wigs and DnD-esque capes are sighted around the celestial realm later on today. What a coincidence!

Lucifer chuckles heartily. He missed this.

Just as the Avatar of pride is resting, a knock sounds on his door.

"Come in." He sighs, eyes lighting up slightly when he sees that it's you. "Oh hello, Dearest."

You approach his desk, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, smiling slightly when you feel his face heat up. "Happy birthday Luci...wanna come on a walk with me?"

"Sure. Let me grab my coat."

And so it goes.

After about twenty minutes of walking through the park hand in hand with Lucifer, you stop at a fountain. "Woah is that fish in there?"

"Hmm?" Lucifer looks over to you.

"Luci can you see fish in the fountain? I think my mind is playing tricks on me..."

Lucifer raises a brow, but always willing to please you, he looks into the fountain, some strands of ebony hair falling over his face at the movement.

"There aren't any fish, MC...I think you might need sleep-" Lucifer drawls as he begins to turn around to face you. Stopping abruptly when he sees you down on one knee, a ring in your hand.

"MC..." He says breathlessly, heart thumping out of his chest.

"Lucifer, the Morningstar, the Avatar of Pride...will you make me the happiest being in all three realms and marry me?"

"MC...I-...You...-...Yes, I'd carve the word into my flesh if I had to..."

You grin, tears welling up in your eyes as you take off Lucifer's glove and slide the ring onto his finger. He helps you up and pulls you into his arms. Face buried into your neck.

"This will mean that you're mine...just like our pact..." He smiles into your collarbone, placing small kisses here and there.

You laugh. "Sure, Luci sure."

Two lovers hold each other in a gentle embrace, witnessed only by themselves and the moon. No granduer, no dramatic announcement, just lying about fish in a fountain.

i cant write proposals BUT as a special birthday bonus: the gnomes.

i was originally just gonna do lucifer but they're twins so I had to do both of them.

in the original fic with the michael gnome i said he had neon hair but i have no idea how to neonify hair and am not an artist so L, have cursed gnomes.

as you can see i can colour inside the lines. and also i hate the fill tool.

before we start:

yes i am posting this on the 5th and i do know that Luci's birthday is the 6th, but i got this done early and have the patience of a child on christmas😔✊

yes derek and eric are dumb stereotypes. everyday im amazed that baseball is literally just rounders with a different name and more theatrics. anyway, i enjoy writing americans the way americans write us. i picked illinois because thats the first state that popped into my head, and also its easy to spell so.

im friends with like three people from canada and im scared of all of them.

anyway grma for reading and i promise the next fic i do for someones birthday i will actually include them in it more.😔✊<3

#yes i know i havent had a lot of irish in my posts recently but thats bc of exams; i wouldnt feel good just like adding stuff #and not being able to actually explain it; but my exams are over now and i just wanted easy writing #(lazy fr)#obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me raphael #obey me solomon #obey me michael #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me crack

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aria0fgold · 1 month

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FINALLY DONE WITH THE ISAT OC! SOLEIL!!!

The creature... So first things first is some info about them pre- disappearance of The Country. They're a loyal follower and avid worshipper of The Country. They love the Universe sooo much that they made a wish to be able to read the stars, and the Universe answered. I like to think that the stars are talkative, some can predict what will happen in the near future, some are just "chatting" to each other about the stuff happening in the world they overlook. It's a somewhat useful ability that Soleil used to use to be able to either predict someone's future (rarely though, the stars hold many different futures and it's hard to figure out which is whose) or use it during funeral rites to have a more reassuring experience to the ones mourning that their loved one arrived safely among the stars.

And then they found out about The Cursing of Chateau Castle-- they kiiiinda got Really obsessed with the book series that they wanted to know more about it but there wasn't any more copies of it in the Country's language so what better way to deal with that but teaching itself how to understand the Vaugardian language, and by doing that they got to learn more about the Vaugardian culture and was really amazed by it (considering that they spent most of their life with the Country's culture instead, learning about a different culture is a great feeling). One thing led to the other and it also led Soleil to travelling to Vaugarde (something that their family wasn't all that happy with but they stay silly).

And so we're back at the present time! Now to talk about some details on its appearance.

Its Craft type is Scissors! The eye on the center of its chest and the eye by its nape are in fact EYES and not just accessories (although they did try to make the eye on its chest appear to be like a mix between a star shape and the Change Symbol).

After spending some time in Vaugarde, they learned about Body Craft in which case they decided to experiment with it in regards to its eyes.

Since being in Vaugarde, there wasn't much use to its star sight and there also isn't a way to "turn it off." So instead, they decided to separate its Normal sight from the Star sight by adding another pair of eyes on its body.

The eyes on its face are blind. They can't see through it anymore but they Can still see the stars (they can't read it anymore however cuz of the Country's disappearance).

If they focus on the stars using those eyes, they'd get a REALLY bad headache and a star sign appears on its eyes. Nothing to be afraid of probably, its head just Really hurts.

The glass covering the eye on its nape is a one way mirror. You won't be able to see the eye but the eye can still see you.

With its vision split, it actually took them awhile to get used to that. It takes a lot of concentration and focus to see both from behind and from the front. When Soleil gets tired from doing that, they either close the eye on its nape (if the place is safe enough) or unfocus it enough to the point that most of its vision becomes blurry with only being able to see blobs of shapes and shadows which helps them be alert enough in case something comes running at them from behind.

All the round objects you see on its body are Bombs. They found out about Bomb Craft in Jouvente and was so fascinated by it that their inventor brain (inventing, crafting, and repairing stuff is a special interest of theirs). They now like making bombs and inventing new ones (only they have the recipe of those).

The bombs they invented only detonates via a Craft spell, it's basically as safe as an ordinary ball to handle unless detonated. Also the scissors at the top of their head has a cover on its tip. It's Very Sharp. They mainly use that (either the tip or the scissor blades itself) to cut the bombs dangling on its body.

Despite the multitude of bombs they carry, they aren't actually much of a fighter (they just like bombs). Most of its Craft spells are basic/beginner level. The one and only Powerful Craft spell they have is a shield/defense spell that they practiced several times. It's capable of negating all damage for 2 turns with a 5 turn cooldown, they wanted to master that spell to make it so that bombs won't hurt them no matter the close proximity.

Its hand signs are "broken." They used to mimic the hand signs that the Universe (I'm mainly referring to my design of the Universe) makes. But after forgetting about everything in regards to it, they can't remember what hand signs they used to make but the familiar feeling was still there.

A huge fan of The Cursing of Chateau Castle, to the point of practically making it part of its identity now that a HUGE chunk of its memory is missing. Its outfit is a modified version of what they think Lady Irene-Janine-Karine wears.

Its personality is a mixture of Lord Josephandre, Pierre-Jacques-Erneste, and Lady Irene-Janine-Karine (aka the Chateau Trio!!! Love those three...).

Its name, "Soleil" is just something they found in a book and decided to use for itself. They don't remember its name anymore.

#ariart #ariaoc #isat oc #isat spoilers #theres some danger in the fact that sol took pierres personality too considering that pierre betrayed the party that one time--#honestly if i think about sol harder i begin to realize that theres A LOT of things wrong about them mentally #what forgetting a country with a belief system you were incredibly loyal to does to someone i think.#also making it so that sol was the npc that translated that one issue of the cursing of chateau castle from vaugardian #into the language of the Country. if you were to enter its home. youll be greeted by a LOT of bookcases and shelves and books #and therell be at least 4 of those dedicated to the cursing of chateau castle. original version and the ones they translated #there will ofc be sections where its about the Country tho. actually i think if siffrin visited its home he'll be able to know more #about the Country. if he became close friends enough to be able to enter the rooms with the books of it. sol couldnt read them #anymore but feels as though those books were important so they moved it elsewhere for safekeeping. making sure to maintain it too #also yea you can now see exactly how im pushing the isat worldbuilding to its limits via body craft #i like to think that if in case body craft operates in a similar manner to alchemy in that by Changing something theres an equal #exchange to be given. if its Changing your appearance to a new one then the equal value to be exchanged is the Old appearance #but if for example theres a missing body part. youd have to find Something else of equal value to replace it then #and by going off of that same principle. if a body part has two functions (like with sol's eyes having a special sight to it)#then by Changing its appearance. the equal value follows the same principle of the: exchange Old for New #except that in sol's case. with the addition of a body part that has two functions. technically speaking they can Separate the #two functions while still following the usual method. it's just that now theres another set of eyes on its body. still a New appearance tho

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