am so so so late
Title: Eggplants?
Author/Artist: ezcap1st
Rating: PG13
Warnings: OOC-ness, foul language, one WoW reference, spoilers for chap 336.
Prompt: I - 40. Mukuro - not an illusion; "The scene he saw reminded him of hell"
Word count: 755
Summary: General crack.
Disclaimer: KHR belongs to Amano Akira.
A/N: Point out any mistakes I missed/made, as usual. Written before I read chapters 337 onwards, so. Oh yeah, ConCrit would be appreciated.
Daemon stepped out of the shadows and -
Mukuro immediately felt like strangling the bastard. Wait, scratch that. Strangling would be going easy on the ghoul and not satisfying enough for him. When he got hold of that slippery trickster, he would string him up by the toes, rip off all the hair on his scalp, shred his disgusting clothes (but, maybe those pants could stay. They looked fairly stylish. Not that Mukuro would ever admit it), deform his looks beyond redemption, and finally, put that undead zombie through the most terrifying illusions he could conjure, to break him.
Mukuro schemed and stewed in his anger, stuck in the body of the owl as his vessel, unaware of the fearsome aura he was emitting. And Spade, that - that - words failed to describe his utter loathing of that despicable parasite. Even using such a term was degrading the existence of parasites everywhere.
The unwelcome intruder smirked and raised his hand to flip a handful of greasy, limp, black hair, his eyes trained on Mukuro.
Outwardly, he remained stoic.
Inwardly, the wielder of the Six Paths of Hell wailed in anguish.
That goddamned swine - he hadn't even bothered to cast an illusion to make Mukuro's body look charming! Just whisking his body out of Vendice, throwing on a mismatched outfit (as if mismatched eyes meant a similar outfit would work) without any care as to what a fashion faux pas he was committing, and absolutely ruining his hair. His hair. His beautiful, flowing, long locks of silk, that he'd been planning on getting trimmed, first thing when he broke out of Vendice. (To accentuate his suavity.)
Then, he would turn up before Tsunayoshi, sweeping him off his feet, getting closer to acquiring his vessel to destroy the world...
That plan is ruined now, all because of that thoughtless, inconsiderate imbecile! Tsunayoshi, and everyone else present, looked utterly repulsed! Why, he was going to get his revenge on that thrice-accursed lich and get back his dignity, even if he had to return to hell to accomplish this goal!
As if he had sensed Mukuro's thoughts, Daemon's smirk widened. He broke his gaze from Mukuro and focused his attention on Tsunayoshi. Again, he raised his hand.
(Oh no, no, no... he wasn't going to...)
He did. That smug creep blew Tsunayoshi a kiss, winking suggestively. The brunet's eyes widened, a horror-struck expression etched firmly on his face.
Then he fainted. His silver-haired puppy leapt to defend his honour, only go down within seconds, stomach rumbling in protest.
“Daemon probably cast an illusion of Bianchi,” Reborn commented.
(Like he didn't already know that.)
Yamamoto was next up, but he shielded his eyes too late, a nosebleed suddenly gushing down his face, and he too was down for the count. Enma whimpered, but bravely stepped up to the challenge. Spade turned on him, posing suggestively with a coy grin on his lips, and the useless brat passed out as well, furious blush painting his face.
Hibari grunted, then launched himself, knocking out Lambo in his progress. Daemon sneered, raising a transparent barrier to shield himself just in the nick of time. His hands trailed down, slowly, teasingly, unbuttoning his pants and -
He never got any further, as Chrome barrelled into the Cloud man in her haste to defend Mukuro-sama's dignity. Hibari twitched, agitated, then backed off as Chrome channelled her willpower into the Vongola Gear, igniting her flames.
“Nufu, does the kitten wish to challenge me?”
“You won't get away with this!”
“Pray tell, why not?”
“Because... Because you're not sexy! You don't have any charms! You're just acting like a slut in Mukuro-sama's body! Mukuro-sama is far more attractive than you can ever hope to be, low-class wannabe filth!”
Daemon snarled and started fighting Chrome in earnest. “I'm the sexier one! Know your place, dumb bitch!”
Mukuro watched them and resisted the urge to face-palm. The scene he saw reminded him of hell, where such ridiculous fights broke out everyday for no legit reasons, and it was more embarrassing than intimidating. He glanced around at the others. The unconscious ones hadn't woken up, the Arcobaleno had supposedly dozed off (but there was an amused smirk on his face), and the skylark had left (he distinctly heard something like 'catfight' muttered as the prefect passed). As glad as he was that Chrome had risen to the occasion... the illusionist felt downright humiliated.
(Of course, he'd die before he confessed to that.)
Author/Artist: ezcap1st
Rating: PG13
Warnings: OOC-ness, foul language, one WoW reference, spoilers for chap 336.
Prompt: I - 40. Mukuro - not an illusion; "The scene he saw reminded him of hell"
Word count: 755
Summary: General crack.
Disclaimer: KHR belongs to Amano Akira.
A/N: Point out any mistakes I missed/made, as usual. Written before I read chapters 337 onwards, so. Oh yeah, ConCrit would be appreciated.
Daemon stepped out of the shadows and -
Mukuro immediately felt like strangling the bastard. Wait, scratch that. Strangling would be going easy on the ghoul and not satisfying enough for him. When he got hold of that slippery trickster, he would string him up by the toes, rip off all the hair on his scalp, shred his disgusting clothes (but, maybe those pants could stay. They looked fairly stylish. Not that Mukuro would ever admit it), deform his looks beyond redemption, and finally, put that undead zombie through the most terrifying illusions he could conjure, to break him.
Mukuro schemed and stewed in his anger, stuck in the body of the owl as his vessel, unaware of the fearsome aura he was emitting. And Spade, that - that - words failed to describe his utter loathing of that despicable parasite. Even using such a term was degrading the existence of parasites everywhere.
The unwelcome intruder smirked and raised his hand to flip a handful of greasy, limp, black hair, his eyes trained on Mukuro.
Outwardly, he remained stoic.
Inwardly, the wielder of the Six Paths of Hell wailed in anguish.
That goddamned swine - he hadn't even bothered to cast an illusion to make Mukuro's body look charming! Just whisking his body out of Vendice, throwing on a mismatched outfit (as if mismatched eyes meant a similar outfit would work) without any care as to what a fashion faux pas he was committing, and absolutely ruining his hair. His hair. His beautiful, flowing, long locks of silk, that he'd been planning on getting trimmed, first thing when he broke out of Vendice. (To accentuate his suavity.)
Then, he would turn up before Tsunayoshi, sweeping him off his feet, getting closer to acquiring his vessel to destroy the world...
That plan is ruined now, all because of that thoughtless, inconsiderate imbecile! Tsunayoshi, and everyone else present, looked utterly repulsed! Why, he was going to get his revenge on that thrice-accursed lich and get back his dignity, even if he had to return to hell to accomplish this goal!
As if he had sensed Mukuro's thoughts, Daemon's smirk widened. He broke his gaze from Mukuro and focused his attention on Tsunayoshi. Again, he raised his hand.
(Oh no, no, no... he wasn't going to...)
He did. That smug creep blew Tsunayoshi a kiss, winking suggestively. The brunet's eyes widened, a horror-struck expression etched firmly on his face.
Then he fainted. His silver-haired puppy leapt to defend his honour, only go down within seconds, stomach rumbling in protest.
“Daemon probably cast an illusion of Bianchi,” Reborn commented.
(Like he didn't already know that.)
Yamamoto was next up, but he shielded his eyes too late, a nosebleed suddenly gushing down his face, and he too was down for the count. Enma whimpered, but bravely stepped up to the challenge. Spade turned on him, posing suggestively with a coy grin on his lips, and the useless brat passed out as well, furious blush painting his face.
Hibari grunted, then launched himself, knocking out Lambo in his progress. Daemon sneered, raising a transparent barrier to shield himself just in the nick of time. His hands trailed down, slowly, teasingly, unbuttoning his pants and -
He never got any further, as Chrome barrelled into the Cloud man in her haste to defend Mukuro-sama's dignity. Hibari twitched, agitated, then backed off as Chrome channelled her willpower into the Vongola Gear, igniting her flames.
“Nufu, does the kitten wish to challenge me?”
“You won't get away with this!”
“Pray tell, why not?”
“Because... Because you're not sexy! You don't have any charms! You're just acting like a slut in Mukuro-sama's body! Mukuro-sama is far more attractive than you can ever hope to be, low-class wannabe filth!”
Daemon snarled and started fighting Chrome in earnest. “I'm the sexier one! Know your place, dumb bitch!”
Mukuro watched them and resisted the urge to face-palm. The scene he saw reminded him of hell, where such ridiculous fights broke out everyday for no legit reasons, and it was more embarrassing than intimidating. He glanced around at the others. The unconscious ones hadn't woken up, the Arcobaleno had supposedly dozed off (but there was an amused smirk on his face), and the skylark had left (he distinctly heard something like 'catfight' muttered as the prefect passed). As glad as he was that Chrome had risen to the occasion... the illusionist felt downright humiliated.
(Of course, he'd die before he confessed to that.)