#(he doesn't know this is his future self yet but there is that bond of trust and familiarity. If anything it will take him awhile to proces

[ofthetardis]

There was something oddly familiar about this person, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Not yet, anyway. Despite it, the Doctor at least felt he could trust him and that they would mean no harm. Glancing them over, he did as he usually did with a new face, bringing out his bag of Jelly Babies. "Hello there, I'm the Doctor. It's a pleasure to meet you. Would you like a Jelly Baby?"

@cosmicangsts liked for a starter with Four!

[aventurineswife]

Could I request the Astral Express trio (you can choose Stelle or Caelus) with a reader (GN) who is also a member of the Express who is like an older sibling? Reprimanding them when they get hurt, or comforting them when they're upset?

No One is Alone

Summary: Life aboard the Astral Express isn't just about fighting enemies or exploring new worlds—it's also about looking out for each other. As the team's older sibling figure, you take it upon yourself to reprimand Dan Heng and Stelle after they return from a mission injured. Through scolding, comforting, and heartfelt conversations, you remind them that they're part of a team and don't have to face their struggles alone.

Tags: Astral Express Trio x Reader, Platonic, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Sibling Dynamics, GN!Reader, Protective!Reader, Team Bonding, Angst with a Happy Ending.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries (non-graphic), Mild guilt/self-blame themes, Emotional vulnerability and introspection.

The hum of the Astral Express filled the air, a comforting backdrop to life aboard the interstellar train. You sat in the lounge, scanning over a datapad while keeping half an ear tuned to the faint commotion from the infirmary. It was a sound you'd become all too familiar with since joining the crew.

Dan Heng and Stelle—recovering from yet another scrape they shouldn't have gotten into.

The infirmary door swished open, and March peeked out, her expression torn between amusement and sympathy. "They're ready for the scolding..." she chirped.

You sighed, setting your datapad aside. Rising to your feet, you felt the weight of your role—neither a fighter nor a strategist, but the de facto big sibling of this unconventional family.

The scene in the infirmary was almost comical. Stelle sat on one of the cots, a bandage around her upper arm, her usual unbothered expression firmly in place. Dan Heng stood nearby, his arms crossed over his chest, looking stoic despite the gash on his shoulder that hadn't been there when the mission started.

"Care to explain?" you began, arms crossed and gaze level.

"It was just a minor miscalculation." Dan Heng replied calmly.

"A 'minor miscalculation' doesn't leave you bleeding, Dan Heng," you said pointedly, turning to Stelle. "And you—didn't I tell you to call for backup if things went south?"

Stelle gave a sheepish shrug. "I thought we could handle it."

"You thought wrong." You sighed, your tone softening as you crossed the room. Grabbing a chair, you sat between them, your expression gentler now. "I know you're both incredibly capable. But even the best make mistakes. You're part of a team—you don't have to shoulder everything alone."

Dan Heng's gaze flickered to the floor, and Stelle's shoulders slumped slightly.

"You don’t need to push yourself to the point of breaking to prove anything," you added, standing to place a reassuring hand on each of their shoulders. "We're in this together. If something happened to either of you, we’d all feel it. And you’d feel the same if it were March, right?"

Both nodded, though they didn’t meet your gaze.

"Good. Now, promise me you’ll call for help next time."

"Promise." Stelle said, a small smile tugging at her lips. Dan Heng gave a slight nod, his stoic mask cracking just enough for you to catch the faintest hint of guilt.

Later, in the privacy of the archive, you found Dan Heng surrounded by stacks of books. He looked up as you entered, his expression as composed as ever.

"You didn't just come here to read, did you?" you asked, pulling up a chair.

"...No," he admitted after a moment, his voice quiet. "I thought I could avoid putting others at risk by keeping things to myself. I didn’t think about how that might affect the team."

You smiled softly, resting a hand on his. "Dan Heng, you're not a burden. You're not just running from your past anymore—you’re building a future with all of us. And we need you to trust us enough to let us help."

He hesitated, then gave a small nod. "I'll try."

Later that evening, Stelle found you in the lounge, sitting with a warm drink. She plopped down beside you, her usual confidence dimmed by something you couldn’t quite place.

"You were right," she said, uncharacteristically subdued.

"About what?" you asked, setting your drink down.

"About asking for help." She stared at the floor for a moment before meeting your eyes. "I’m used to going it alone. But... it’s different with you guys. It’s like, I know you’ve got my back, and that’s scary because now I care. You know?"

You smiled, ruffling her hair like a younger sibling. "That’s not a bad thing, Stelle. Caring means you’re not just surviving anymore—you’re living."

She leaned into your side, her head on your shoulder. "Thanks, big sibling."

"Anytime," you said, wrapping an arm around her. "Just stop scaring me with the near-death experiences, okay?"

"I’ll try." she mumbled, and for now, that was enough.

(yonagi on X)

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

An Altar For Our Sins

Part 9 // Masterlist

Warnings (18+): Nightmares (Billy’s past, and flashes of his attempted assault), angst, murder, torture, smut, oral, thigh riding, choking, bondage, use of dilators, tail kink, facials, cum swallowing, talks of body insecurity.

A/N: It's been a while but trust me this is worth it.

You’re reclined beside the pool, watching him as he carefully mixes drinks.

He moves with careless precision, easy, fast, as if he’d done it a million times before.

Something twists inside of you, arousal, followed by a deep warning.

This was the man that wanted to corrupt you.

To tarnish your morals, turn you into something you’d never seen before.

You wanted to let him.

You wanted to be every dark thing, you ached to be threads in his hands, to be created- or rather recreated by him. You wanted to be his medium, and allow him the moment to be the artist.

You adjust your body, covered by a fluffy robe, a modest bikini underneath. You’d been feeling a little self conscious as your cycle rolled around, the uncomfortable bloating was familiar around this time, making you feel exposed, even under the thick robe.

Yet still, you found yourself wanting him

The beach chair was reclined at a comfortable angle, the umbrella above sheltering you from the occasional sun.

With your eyes on him, watching him work quietly, cutting a wedge of orange for your glass, you lift one side of your robe carefully, pulling it open.

He pauses, knife halfway into the orange.

The corner of your lip twitches, reaching at the bond between you, flooding it with your arousal for him.

You watch his shoulders lift as he heaves in a large breath.

He hasn’t looked at you yet, and you know he’s going to try his best to seem unaffected, because reminding him of your power over him, makes him want to assert his power over you that much more.

It’s a fight you know is coming, somewhere in your future, where maybe you’ll pull at him, and he’ll pull back.

You push the other side of your robe off your body and he doesn’t react, you watch him pour your drink into a tall glass, garnish it with the orange slice and some cherries and turn to you.

You smile as he approaches, placing the drinks on the table beside you before fitting himself into your seat, angling his body so that you’re facing each other with no substantial space between you.

You hum, pressing your face against his clothed chest humming.

“You smell like oranges, Billy.” You take another deep breath, captivated by the smell, pressing your face deeper, “You smell so good.”

They really do smell delicious, the citrus filling your nose, flooding the back of your throat.

He raises a hand to cup your cheek, the heavy fragrance of it clinging to his hands. It makes you feel impossibly euphoric, and you don’t really understand why.

You look up at him, his dark eyes on you, he leans forward a little and you close your eyes, expecting a kiss.

“Careful.” He says softly, “You're playing with fire.”

You groan internally, excitement warming over your skin, clenching around nothing, your arousal being pushed down your bond unintentionally. 

You feel his fingers twitch against your cheek.

You open your eyes, looking up at him, finding the same desire in him that you feel.

“Does ‘fire’ want me to suck his cock?” You offer cheekily, blinking slowly at him in what you hope is a seductive way.

His expression is stern, but you simmer with delight as you feel his arousal returned through your bond. Like a hand, sliding over your skin, you grin at him when you realise he's not as unaffected as he tries to seem.

He doesn't say a word, instead his hand drifts over your shoulder, down to settle on your hip.

“You're such a little brat.” He hums, and you laugh, leaning into his chest.

After a moment, you feel him tug at the robe.

“Aren't you warm?” He asks.

Truthfully you were a little, but God, your body did not want to cooperate with you today.

“I'm alright.” You hum lightly.

“You're lying.” He informs matter-of-factly.

You make a frustrated grunt. Cursing the bond.

“Bloated,” you try to explain quickly, “I just feel out of it today. I might have gained weight.”

“I don't understand the problem.” He says, his tail snaking around you to keep you close.

“Just uncomfortable in my skin, it happens sometimes.”

“Is there anything I can do to make it better?”

You smile fondly.

“I'll be okay, I just feel a little insecure about my body, you know?”

“Not really.”

You look curiously up at him.

“You've never felt self conscious about the way you look?”

He thinks back for a moment, before shaking his head.

“I've never had to worry about it, my whole human life I'd always been told how good I looked.”

“Lucky bitch.” You say with mock spite.

He lets out a breath of amusement.

“I think I was more insecure about my wealth back then, none of it was ever enough. I'd be dressed as nicely as everyone else and still feel like I didn't belong.”

You reach out to squeeze his hand in comfort. There really was no way to reassure him. You couldn't even tell him his life was better now, he was literally a demon from Hell.

You wanted to tell him that he belonged with you now, but maybe the reminder of his ownership wouldn't help.

“Growing up,” You offer, “literally everyone had something to say about my body. I was either too skinny at one point, too chubby, too muscular, my thighs were too thick, my stomach- honestly the judgement carried out on women's bodies is ridiculous.”

He nods beside you, raising a hand to run his fingers over your cheek.

“The judgement is awful,” he agrees, “but I hope you know that you've always looked beautiful to me.”

You give him a thankful smile.

“And you, have always been the most powerful man in the room to me.”

You feel your stomach flip, it makes your smile grow wider.

“I'm not more powerful than you though.”

You glance away, looking at the shimmering pool.

“Well, if you wanted to be, I'd let you.”

He grips your chin, turning your head back so that your eyes meet his.

“What do you mean by that?”

You swallow, voice barely above a whisper.

“If you grew tired of me, and wanted your freedom, I'd give it to you.”

His grip on your chin tightens.

“Are you saying you'd die for me to be free?”

You blink, a slow incline of your head.

“I'd rather die than force you to be here if you didn't want to.”

He takes a moment, looking for the right words, trying to read you like words on a page.

“That's your insecurity talking,” he says, a minuscule amount of anger curls at the base of your spine, “There's no universe where I don't want you. Serving you for the rest of my life would be a privilege, mistress.”

You let out a shaky breath, pushing your body up so that your mouth meets his.

Your lips blister with the sparks of his touch, arousal swelling like a wave, desire pulling at you, grabbing at your ankles to take you in its current.

He sits up, hovering over you, eyes ablaze with fiery passion.

He tugs at your robe and it evaporates in a puff of purple, you gasp as your body gets the cool air it's been needing.

You look at him, as his eyes look over you, studying your body, wrapped in the modest swimsuit.

You watch his tongue dart out, licking slowly at his bottom lip, a strand of hair threatening to fall between his eyes.

“You are very, very beautiful.” He finally says.

You feel your nether regions pulse at his words, willing him to say more through the bond, trying your best not to look down, to shy away.

He leans in, hands gripping at your thighs, squeezing the flesh of your hips.

“I'm so glad you're made the way you are.”

A seed of hope settles within you.

“Why?” You ask.

“Because it's your body, and your body is perfect, but also…” He trails off.

You push yourself into a sitting position expectantly.

“Yeah?”

He gives you a dangerous grin, leaning in till his nose touches yours.

“I can fuck you, however hard I want, and you won't break so easily.”

Your mouth parts in surprise, going dry, so much desire packed into your head, making you feel like you're swimming in cotton.

“Does this mean you're going to start teaching me how to take you?”

He takes a sharp breath, eyes going ruby red in the span of seconds.

“Yes,” he says on impulse, his cock, rock hard and aching, “let me give you your first lesson right now.”

He grips your hips, switching your positions until you're straddling his midriff.

“Get naked for me.” He orders, and you obey, stepping away from him to eagerly peel your suit from your skin. When you turn back, you find that he's lost his shirt and his pants, his cock standing up in the open air.

Your mouth waters.

“C-can I-”

“-No.”

You pout.

He gives you a sharp grin.

“Come sit.” He says, patting his thigh.

You swallow nervously, approaching him, trying to figure out his plan of action.

When you get close enough, he reaches to grip your hips, he kisses your stomach before guiding your knee over his body until you're straddling him, his cock fitting snugly between your thighs.

You stiffen for a brief moment, a little worried that he would enter you before you were ready.

“I'm not-”

“-I know,” you cut him off with an apologetic smile, able to read him, understand him so easily now with almost no effort, “It’s only a reflex.” 

He lets out a soft breath, raising a hand to smooth the tips of his fingers across your cheek, you close your eyes as you feel the tingles spread across your face.

“That's the first lesson. Don't be scared of taking me.”

You blink several times, refocusing on him, trying to figure out how he could possibly know something like that. 

You'd never given it a name, or even thought about it, but you were scared, scared of letting someone in, scared of the pain it might cause.

He holds your hips, pushing them back a fraction, to pull them forward again, your mouth drops open as pleasure erupts from between your legs as his cock glides against your sensitive centre.

“I know you, mistress, I can feel that small touch of fright everytime I get too close. I want it gone. I want you to trust me.”

“I do trust you,” you pant as he continues rocking your hips, “It's just a little bit of paranoia kicking in, my brain just makes me worry about the ‘what ifs’”

“I understand sweetheart, but if you're taking me, and you get scared, it'll only make you hurt worse. So I need you to trust me, I need you to relax for me. I need you to understand that I'd choose Hell over having you be afraid of me.”

You groan, tipping your head back, your hips beginning to undulate on their own.

“Good, mistress, rub that little pussy on my cock, don’t worry about anything else.”

“Feels s’good.” You whisper, doing more and gasping in surprise when the tip of his cock bumps your clit.

“Yeah?” His hands tighten their grip, “You like using me, mistress? Do you think you can cum like this?”

You're not even sure if the answer is yes, but you nod anyway, with Billy, anything is possible.

His hands on your thighs, over your hips, you hear him grunt, feeling an immeasurable amount of want in the back of your head.

“You’re so fucking soft,” He grits out, hands gliding up to cup your breasts gently in each hand, “Every part of you is divine.” 

You whine, aching for more of his praise, wondering, if his words are more effective than your motions are.

You beg him silently to continue.

His fingertips brush your shoulder, trails down your arm.

“Every time I look at you, I’m thinking about how much I enjoy touching you, and tasting you, and feeling your perfect body shudder and shake. Those sweet eyes, begging me, always fucking begging me- “ You feel him tremble below you, before his fingers grip the flesh of your behind firmly, manipulating your hips into moving faster, the head of his cock gliding right over your entrance, a surge of bliss washing through you with such suddenness that your back straightens in surprise.

The temptation of being full of him, the nearness of this sinful act, feels euphoric, pleasure filling your head as he catches on the rim of your cunt for just a moment. You whine, wanting to hear him speak more, no fear in your body as he glides easily between your legs, your arousal coating his cock evenly.

“You have no idea how desperate you make me,” Billy continues, almost rambling, your soft cunt eager on his cock, he feels himself throb, body begging, unable to get what it wants.

“Nothing will stop me from having you, nothing will keep me away.” He grits. “I don’t care how long it takes, or whatever changes. You’re mine. This thick, perfect body is mine. You belong to me, and I am going to relish claiming you when the time is right.”

He comes at the same time you do, ropes of his own spend splashing against his lower abdomen and all between your thighs and cunt. You gasp, looking down at the mess you’ve made, feeling it smeared onto your body, shared fluids mixing together between your thighs as you both breathe heavily in an attempt to catch your breath.

Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, watching his cum be wasted like this. You swipe a shaky finger through the mess, bringing it up to your lips. He groans as he watches you taste the evidence of his pleasure, sitting up suddenly till you're face to face. 

“From the moment I saw you, I knew I wanted you. There's never been any doubt to me, of how beautiful you are, mistress.” You look into his dark eyes as his hand comes up to cup your cheek. You swallow, hypnotized by the depth of the emotion in his eyes, feeling it seep into you, intoxicated by him.

Your eyes flutter closed as you lean in, vulnerable to him, unable to stop until your mouth meets his.

Your demon.

You smile against his mouth, something… something you can't put words to enveloping every sense you have, his kiss, mouth melding perfectly with yours until you swear that all you can feel is him.

You break the kiss with a gasp, head against his chest, a hum of satisfaction leaves you.

His tail loops around your waist, keeping you still, your naked bodies pressed tightly to each other. You tug at the bond, and you smile when he gives his own pull in response.

“I'm glad you're here with me, Billy- and I know that sounds selfish, you've been through so much- but just the thought of us never meeting each other-” you cut off with a frown, not wanting to make it seem like you were happy that he went through what he did.

“I'm- I'm glad we met.” You murmur finally, looking up at him apologetically for your words.

He lets out a slow breath of amusement, watching you stumble over your words.

“You're acting as though you haven't suffered as well. Suffering is a part of life, mistress, Hell is everywhere. Some people suffer through life and never get close to what you and I have.”

The words are hard to say, but you manage to find the strength.

��What do we have?” You ask cautiously, hoping to hear him echo your own feelings.

He breathes, wrapping his arms tightly around you, crushing your body to his.

“Each other.” Is his simple response.

.

Each other.

You smile, the words echo in your head. Beside you, he sleeps soundly, one arm over his middle, your legs tangled together beneath the sheets. 

You sigh, curling into him, wishing you could sort through the chaos in your head. All the things that have happened, the things that brought him to you. You were not happy they occurred, but you wouldn't change anything, if it meant you would lose him. How could you hate your past and be glad it happened? It was a very strange place to be.

If they had summoned any other demon, you would be dead or worse now. 

Instead? 

You sigh, half asleep and reaching for him in your head.

Instead you were here, warm and safe and protected from anything the universe could throw your way. All because of the man, the demon, sleeping in bed beside you.

“You're one pretty kid.” a gruff voice says. 

You gasp, eyes springing open. You're not in bed anymore, standing in the doorway of a locker room, a little boy a few feet in front of you. You can see his face in the mirror, one of confusion and mild fear. 

Beside him, a man places a hand on his shoulder. It looks affectionate at first, but you soon realise that there’s no love there, only perversion.

You take a step forward, wanting to separate the figures from each other. You move faster when you see the man's hand raise to cup the boy's face. No matter how fast you move, you're still in the same spot and after a few moments, you stop, realising that you're not getting anywhere. 

Everything flashes next, like a video game with a low frame rate you see flashes of the boy being advanced upon, watching him fight back and hold his own for a few moments, before the man finally gets angry.

You scream when the boy is thrown to the ground, fighting whatever force holds you back, trying to get to the little boy, his blood splashed on various items around the room. When the man is done, he simply washes his hands and leaves. It's only then, that you're allowed entry into the scene you're watching.

You get to the little boy, lying on the ground, just as he shifts, and your breath stutters in your throat as he turns into the man you know today, right before your eyes.

“Billy?” You whisper in horror.

He sits up, his eyes have gone fully black, blood still splashed on his mouth and hands, face already bruising from his previous ordeal.

He stands, not sparing a glance at you, he stalks out of the room.

You follow, unsure of what's happening but knowing you were safest with your demon, regardless of whether he could see you or not.

The man is older now, when Billy grabs the back of his shirt and lifts him as though he weighs nothing, you note that his hair has slivered and his skin has wrinkled.

Billy's voice is rough, angry, he presses the man against a wall, fingers around his neck.

“How many?” He asks, the horns on his head getting larger, his nails getting sharper.

The man's face goes red, he kicks and cries, eyes wide as he watches Billy's demonic face.

His nails sink slowly into the man's neck. You gasp, turning away, unable to look at the horrors happening.

You hear it, the screams, the gushing of blood. Your breathing speeds up, you raise your hands to cover your ears as the sound echoes, multitudes of screams fill your ears, panic in your heart, wishing you were home, away from all of this pain and suffering around you.

You say his name, a quiet whimper, wanting your demon more than anything.

Hands wrap around your wrists, forcing your hands from your ears, you look up with tear blurred vision, to find a terrifying version of your demon looking back.

“Wake up.” He says to you, his voice cutting through the multitudes.

You gasp awake, sitting up, heart racing in your chest. Beside you, he sits up too, making you jump in surprise.

He looks normal now, no trace of the terrifying demon from before, you gasp loudly, struggling to breathe.

“What the hell-” You gasp, trying to articulate your thoughts.

His hand brushes your arm, you jerk in surprise, turning to look at him. He blinks, drawing back, feeling rejected by you. 

You grab his hand before he can retract it all the way, you find difficulty in speaking, shoving your tumultuous feelings down the bond so that he knows none of it is directed towards him.

He blinks, inclines his head in understanding, keeps his hand in yours.

Your heart is still racing, trying to understand what you've just seen, wondering how you've seen it.

“Did all of that really happen?” You ask softly.

“Mostly.” 

“That kid… that was you.”

“Yeah.”

You turn to look at him. He looks back with cautious vulnerability, an expression that you can tell is hanging on to your every word.

“That's why too much attention makes you uncomfortable. Those scars on your shoulder-”

He nods, confirming your suspicions.

Your face twists into one of pain, eyebrows drawn, mouth curved into a frown. You lean in, wrap your arms around your demon’s shoulders and you squeeze tightly.

He lets out a puff of air, hands wrapped around your waist to crush your body to his.

Your hand grips the back of his head, fingers carding through his soft hair, you turn your head, kissing his cheek, his temple, trying to apologise to him for something you didn't do.

You don't know what to say to him, what will make this better, you know that he's probably thought about everything you could possibly say.

Still, you have to say something, knowing that he has to hear it from someone that's not himself.

“I'm sorry.” Is what you finally settle on.

Muffled into your neck, he shakes his head.

“It's okay.”

“It's not. You didn't deserve that, no one does. I'm sorry it happened.”

He's quiet for a long moment.

“For a long while, I really thought I did deserve it.”

You feel a sharp pain spear into your heart at the thought, you squeeze him tighter. 

“You were just a kid.” You whisper, voice cracking, “You were so small, you couldn't be more than ten. This was not your fault.”

You feel the anger overtake you next.

“Did you kill him?”

He says your name softly, and through the bond, you feel his reservation to disclose details that might unsettle you. 

“Tell me, demon. I won't run.”

“When I was older, he passed me in the street, didn't recognize me. My left shoulder doesn't settle properly and he didn’t even remember my face.” 

“I broke in, waited for him to see me, for him to remember who I was, but he'd done it so many times all the faces of his victims blurred together. I shoved a bat through his chest, and when I found him in Hell, I didn't have any mercy.” 

You bend your head, kissing the first piece of him you can get to- his horn- his hands tighten around you.

“I'm proud of you.” You say into his ear, and you feel him shudder, warmth wrapping around your spine, feeling him reach for you, and eagerly, you reach back.

What do you and I have, demon?

We have each other.

.

In the morning, after a luxurious breakfast in a pile of pillows on the jetty, you lie beside him, sated and full, finally finding the willpower to ask the questions you've been wanting to ask.

“Last night, how did I see those things?”

He breathes out a slow breath of air.

“You were in my dreams.” 

You blink, deep in thought.

“How did I get there?”

He makes an amused sound.

“Hell if I know, mistress. This thing between us, I've never had one for this long. I don't know how far it can go.”

You look up into his dark eyes, tugging playfully at the link you share until the corner of his mouth twitches, and you feel your pull reciprocated. 

“Do you think- could we visit Father Matt again? Just to see what he knows?” 

Something burns in your chest, the feeling is sour, similar to the symptoms of acid reflux.

“We don't have to.” You clarify, figuring that this sensation wasn't your own, but belonged to your demon.

“No, we should, he might have books on demonology that could help.”

You give him an apologetic smile, leaning to kiss his cheek softly.

“That's my good demon.” You praise.

You hear his deep intake of breath, and when you peek at his face, his eyes have gone full black, veins of dark blood spread from his eyes, fizzling out across his face.

“Mistress.” He says roughly, His voice having dropped a few octaves, a deep and unfamiliar sound that makes your lips part in surprise. It's a warning, you realise, that you've said something to elicit such a potent reaction.

It reminds you of the dream, of the way he looked- a monstrous version of himself.

He turns his head to study you, your heart pounding faster in your chest as you feel an enormous amount of arousal seep into you through the bond.

Your nether regions warm in response, eager to push his limits, to really see his full demonic capabilities.

“Which part of that excited you?” You whisper softly, aching for friction between your thighs, “That I called you good, or that I called you mine?”

He growls, a deep grovelling sound that leaves his throat, one of frustration, of endless desire, of warning. 

Both, you assume, when the black veins worsen, spreading down his neck and into his shirt. 

You study the beautiful veining, the way they spread like branches of a tree over his skin, you bite down on your bottom lip, excitement beating in your heart.

“You like being good for me?” You ask, reaching up to tug the collar of his shirt down, examining the veins further.

He doesn't answer, breaths laboured, his hands curling into fists, fighting himself.

You reach down, gripping one of his hands to bring it to rest on the space below your ass, skin simmering with delight at the feel of his hot hand.

“Answer me demon.” You prod.

He grunts, tipping his head back, closing his eyes.

“If you don't stop. I'm going to ruin that little cunt.” He warns.

“You don't scare me.” Your voice holds a hint of defiance, “You're always telling me that I'm the most powerful person in the room. You're my demon, and I want an answer.”

His eyes open, zeroing in on you, he reaches for you with his free hand, tangling it into your hair, pulling you forward until you're practically in his lap.

“Call me your demon one more time.” He growls, “I dare you.”

You swallow, having never tormented him in this way, excited to see where this would get you.

With your cunt achingly wet, you lick your lips.

“Fine.” You say softly, with an appearance of giving up. You pull from his hold, rising to your feet. He watches you carefully, no doubt that he can feel the mischievousness hidden beneath the surface of your skin.

Standing on the jetty, the sea breeze blowing through your hair, you begin to walk away. When you're almost to solid ground, you turn back with a grin.

“You're my demon, Billy Russo!” You shout, to be heard over the din of the ocean. 

You expect him to stand and chase you, but when you turn to run from him, you gasp in surprise as you crash right into him.

It's so much worse now, the veins have spread to cover his hands, and you wonder absentmindedly if they've spread over his cock too.

He looms over you, somehow feeling significantly larger than you, even in this open space. 

His breaths are laboured, and when he parts his lips, you catch a hint of sharp canines.

This, was the demon you'd seen in your dreams.

You take a step back hesitantly, you can feel the phantom touch of his arousal moving around you, your skin sensitive and warm, sparking at your desire in response.

“Where are you going, mistress?” He reaches for you, gripping your hips in his hands to bring you closer. You look up at him with wide eyes, feeling so deliciously trapped.

“Your demon wants to play.” He taunts, his voice sending trills through your heart. He dips his head, and you realise what he wants, rising onto your toes in response, angling your head upward, eager to kiss this version of him.

You think it's going to be aggressive, but it starts slow, your lips moving gently against his, feeling the desire grow inside of you till you're reaching up to cup the back of his neck.

It's what he's waiting for, he makes a hum of approval before you feel his influence wrap around you, the air going from breezy to still, the sound of crashing waves changes to one of falling rain.

You draw back, finding that he's back to his normal self, dark brown eyes, rosy skin, free of black veins.

He watches you as you look around next, mouth dropping open in surprise as you take in the surroundings.

There's a very large telescope elevated behind Billy, pointing up at the glass domed roof. It's night here, and through the murky glass, you can just barely make out the ripples of cascading rain on glass. There’s one area of the roof that's got heavy plaster smeared on, no doubt sealing the roof from ever opening for the telescope again. 

There are candles spotted throughout the room that helps you see all of this, and when you turn, you gasp in shock at the beautiful sight before you. 

What catches your eye first is the circle of stained glass, your heart squeezing at the resplendent scene it depicts. Fractals of blue glass, every shade you've ever seen, compiled to form an image of the night sky, interspotted with yellow glass to represent stars, and an ivory, almost pearlescent circle to symbolise the moon.

On the outskirts of the mural, are swirling yellow pieces of glass, indicating that within the glass piece, the sun is nearby. The mural is large, and where it ends, the art continues on in coloured tile intermittently dispersed throughout the walls and floor. 

You don't get a chance to study that, because at the base of the stained glass, a bed, draws your attention next.

It's low to the floor, set into a circular wooden frame, surrounded by flickering candles. 

Dark green sheets, you giggle when you feel his hands snake around you, his lips finding their way to your neck.

“Do you bring all your mistresses here?” You tease.

He rumbles in disagreement.

“Only the ones that call me theirs.”

You huff out a laugh, heart full, swaying as he continues to kiss your skin.

“What is this place?” You ask softly, staring at the glass, in the dark, you can’t see anything more.

“It was part of a monastery nearby, back when they studied the heavens in an attempt to understand God. If the rain stops, you can probably hear their singing echo through the mountains.”

You let out a soft sigh.

“And they just forgot about it? That's terrible. Look at this place.”

He hums in agreement.

“It's actually one of the more spiritual places on earth. There are a couple, but this one has been gladly lost to time and reclaimed by the forest.”

“Why here?” 

He's silent for a long time.

“Before you, this was the closest I'd thought I'd get to heaven.”

You lips part, you turn your head to meet his eyes.

“What? Me?” You whisper, almost afraid to say the words out loud in fear that he comes to his senses and takes them back.

He turns you, hands gripping your shoulders tightly, all calm touches lost to desperation.

“You.” He confirms, tucking his fingers under your chin to tip your head up.

The kiss that follows makes your knees weak, you cling to him, gasping as your mouth works against his, feverish kisses that stop you from thinking, his tail wrapping around your thigh to keep you close like it always does.

It's familiar, but brand new, you can feel the way his need burns inside of him, like a fire that won't go out, it sparks yours, and feeds into his, like vicious and consuming cycle.

You make it to the bed next, trapped below him, his mouth never leaving yours, you're not sure how you got here, but you're not complaining.

Moaning into his mouth, you push your body into a sitting position, feeling the bed dips as he adjusts his body to sit beside you. 

His thumb presses into the side of your mouth, hooks against your teeth, pulling your jaw open. 

He pauses, stares at you for a moment while your tongue drags along the tip of his tongue.

You’re on the brink of insanity, you feel so intertwined with him, body crying out for any bit of him that it can get.

He slots his thumb between your teeth, your eyes falling shut as you breathe heavily around the appendage, sighing easily when he delves his rough tongue into your mouth.

All you can do is take, enjoy the feeling, unable to really reciprocate. 

It’s messy, barely a kiss and more of an enjoyment of your surrender to him.

“Tell me again.” He hums, slipping his thumb from your mouth, holding your jaw in place purposefully. You blink slowly, trying to understand what he’s saying.

“Say those words to me again.”

“My demon.” You say easily, looking up at him.

You watch his eyes go black once more.

He slides to his knees in front of you, reaching up to tug your bottoms off, you lift your hips to let it happen.

“Need to taste you, mistress.” He mumbles, as if it explains his feverish movement. 

He kisses the inside of your knee when he finally gets your legs bare, sighing in bliss each time his mouth meets your skin.

“You’re so soft. I love it. I never want to stop touching you.” 

You groan his name, his words melting right into your heart.

He knows what he's doing, praising you relentlessly because he likes the feeling of your reaction to it, a warmth spreading out from the deepest parts of himself.

His hands squeeze gently at your thighs, enraptured by the feeling against his palms.

Leaning closer, his warm breath tickling your mound, you shiver when he kisses the inside of your thigh.

“So good for me.” He praises, grins when he feels your reaction, “You're so beautiful.”

You shudder out a breath.

Reaching down, you grip his horn with a groan, trying to urge him into moving faster.

He accepts your guidance, you part your legs wider for him to fit between them, and after a moment, he guides your legs over his shoulders.

“My mistress.” He rumbles, dark eyes flitting to you before he presses his mouth flush to your cunt.

You feel his delight, tilting your head back, gasping at the level of enjoyment he feels. 

His tongue slides against your clit, sparks erupting in your head, you feel your body fall back onto the soft bed, a boneless mess.

He pauses, chuckling, retracting his body so that he can shift you, adjusting you till your head is pressed against the soft pillows, looking up at the curved ceiling.

His head pops into your vision, chest bare, he must have taken his shirt off at some point.

“Comfortable?” He asks softly.

You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding.

“Good,” he leans in to give you a quick kiss, “Enjoy.”

Your shirt disappears in a flash of purple, his mouth descending on your shoulders.

It's amazing, the way he feels, the delight coursing through his body as he touches you, the way it makes you more sensitive, makes you feel so much more desirable.

He trails soft kisses down your body, until he's back between your thighs, mouth exploring the most intimate parts of you.

It feels too good, you grip the sheets as his tongue works over you, kissing, licking, wet sounds of his tongue reaching your ears along with the sound of falling rain.

When you get too close to the edge, you sit up, making him pause and look up at you from between your thighs.

“I'm not ready to come yet.” You whisper, aching to prolong the feeling of this, the way you feel him and the way he makes you feel yourself.

He smiles in understanding, dipping his head, slows the pace of his tongue, explores you instead, delves into the most primal parts of you.

You tremble, the yearning so intense that your body shakes, and yet you close your eyes, and feel him, the demon between your thighs and the delight that fills him, the devotion.

You cry his name, feel tears slip from your eyes at the intensity of everything, your body aching for release while your mind demands you feel every second of denial.

You're everywhere, all at once, expanding from one singular point, he moves your legs over his shoulders, hands wrapping around your hips to hold your body tight to his face, cunt pressed flush to his eager mouth, the way it was always meant to be.

He moans, the vibrations soft against you, and then he moans again, delight and adoration coming from him.

Your head sinks deeper into the pillows, body arching, his fingertips pressed to your mound, holding you fast as you lose control of your own body.

You raise a hand, pressing it to your mouth on instinct to fight the scream you're no doubt going to release. An invisible force grabs your wrist, pinning your hands to either side of your head.

Trapped, you can only wriggle and his tongue licks over your clit, sliding from side to side, speeding up ever so subtly.

He hums again, and it's that low, delicious feeling of his desire that reverberates through your bones, locking them into place as your release slams into you.

Your back arches so forcefully that you swear you'll dislocate something, mindless whimpers and moans leaving your lips.

He keeps licking gently over you, soft, careful, attentive in a way that makes you grind against his tongue to prolong your orgasm.

When it's over, your body relaxes, panting, desperate for air, your heart pounding in your head, the back of your neck feverishly hot. You feel his invisible hold on your wrists release you.

He withdraws a little, kissing at the tops of your thighs, chin wet, leaving cool little spots over your hips as well.

You tilt your head to look down at him. You've never felt so many emotions before, yours and his, blending together in your head because you feel the same things.

“I would gladly do that forever.” He finally says, looking up at you.

You let out a breath, reaching a hand out to him, hoping that he can read your mind and know what you want.

He smiles, obliges, crawls his way up your body and covers you with his larger one, burying his face into your neck as your jelly arms wrap around him.

It scratches an itch in your brain to feel his large form over you like this, you feel so safe, protected, and something deeper, too deep to name.

“I'm not done,” he finally says into your hair, “Remember when I promised to teach you how to take me?”

Your breath hitches.

“Yes?”

He raised his body a little so that he can look into your eyes, the flickering of the candles reflected in them.

“I've got some… items to help you.”

He turns his head to the side, and when you turn to follow his line of sight, you see five phallic shaped objects lined up, the smallest being the width of two of your fingers and the largest being… just a little smaller than his actual member.

You gulp.

“Don't be scared,” he says, no doubt feeling your trepidation, “I won't hurt you.”

That, you believed. You turn to look at him, nodding your head, indicating your eagerness to begin.

He smiles, reaching for the smallest one with his tail. You lose sight of it, before you gasp, feeling it running along the seam of your cunt.

You look up, into his eyes, watching him watch you.

“You're so wet, this one will go in easy.” 

He proves his point by notching it against your entrance, twisting it slightly to coat it in your arousal.

It's like his fingers, you determine, mouth dropping open in delight as the object fills you.

“Breathe.” He guides, and you do, feeling him move the object in and out, pumping it into you slowly until you shudder, easily accepting this size.

“That's good, mistress, this isn't so scary, right? You just have to relax and trust me.”

You swallow, nodding, eyes locked on his. 

He withdraws this size from you, reaching for the next size up- the approximate size of his tail.

This one takes a little bit more effort, but it doesn't hurt, and you drop your head back, moaning as euphoria overtakes your body.

He chuckles above you.

“Yes, you're used to this size as well,” he whispers, pumping the shaft of the object deeper and deeper into you.

You whine, toes curling, a spot deep inside of you aching, threatening release long before you're even ready.

“Already, mistress?” He clicks his tongue in disappointment, you can feel that he's just teasing you, but his words still draws another high pitched keen from you.

“I'm not even trying, you're just that needy, hmm?”

You nod your head eagerly, feeling him drag the silicone object out and then back in, pushing it fully into you.

“Fuck- Billy- I'm-”

“Don't, mistress. You don't cum unless I say.”

You wished it was that easy, you wish You could make your body understand and prioritize what your demon wanted above itself. But it just didn't work like that.

His hand moves under your head, fisting your hair tightly, grabbing your attention, forcing you to look into his dark eyes.

“Don't. Cum.” He growls, his eyes flashing red, as if that's supposed to stop you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, taking a deep breath, trying to relax your body, looking up at him with teary eyes when you get yourself under control.

“Good.” He whispers, leaning in to press his lips to yours.

It's a good distraction, you focus on the kiss so much that you're not expecting him to reach for the larger size, pressing it against you with his hand when he withdraws the other one with his tail.

You shudder out a breath, looking up at him, feeling your cunt stretch, taking this size, feeling so unbelievably full, glancing over at the unused sizes, trying to figure out how much fuller you're going to feel with those.

It aches a little, and he pauses halfway in, to let you grow accustomed to the size.

His thumb brushes over your cheek, swiping at some of the tears slipping from your eyes.

“You tighten up when you come, it would have made taking this size more painful. But you’re doing so good, mistress, so good for your demon.”

You hum when you hear him say those words, tilting your hips up to drive the dilator deeper into you.

He smiles, taking your guidance, slowly working this size into you, before moving his hand away.

“This one stays for a little while, till you’re dripping around it.” He says, leaning up, and away, so that he can see between your legs. You feel his appreciation through the bond.

“That little cunt is so good for me. I can’t wait to break her in.”

You shudder, aching.

Experimentally, you squeeze your walls around the object, sighing when pleasure fills your body.

He gives you a breathy grin, watching you carefully.

“Good, get used to it. Maybe I should leave it in longer, it would be fun to watch you move around with one of these inside of you.”

You groan, he really was some kind of evil.

It was torture, you wanted to rock your hips so badly, your need to come was even worse. Your body was aching for release, and you weren’t sure how long you would be able to take it.

His tail wraps around your thigh, pressing gently against your clit. Your body shudders in response.

“Does it hurt at all?” He asks.

You swallow, shaking your head.

His tail moves softly on your clit, relaxing you.

“I’ll let you come on the next size, okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, skin growing sensitive with the need for release, “O-okay.”

After a few minutes, he gently moves this one out, and then in, getting you used to the sensation, your eyes closed, when he finally withdraws it, and presses the second largest one against you.

You go tense.

“No, sweetheart.” Billy murmurs, his tail pressing down firmer on your clit, “Relax for me, deep breaths, you can take it.”

He keeps saying that, mumbled encouragements, you can take it, so sweet for me, relax a little bit more baby, you’re made for this, promise.

Your breath hitches when he finally works the tip in.

He’s used some kind of lubricant to help it move easier, you tremble as you try your best to relax, to remind yourself that this is worth something, that you wanted to take him fully.

It’s a little uncomfortable, but most importantly, it doesn’t hurt, you hear the rolling of thunder outside, or maybe that’s just the sound of your heart pounding in your chest.

“Billy.” You cry, a mix of pleasure and discomfort swimming inside of you, and he reaches to hold your hand with his free one, his words not stopping for a second.

“Perfect for me, sweetheart, you wanna take me so bad, hmm? Need to feel your demon’s cock fill you up?”

You nod, mindlessly thinking about it, the way he’d press into you like he did before, the way he’d move, the way he’d feel.

“Want you to cum inside of me.” You babble, watching his eyes go pitch black once more, eyes following the black veins as they trace their way down his body.

He tilts his head, studying you as you watch him.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for.” He says, his voice deep- almost a low grovel, “You don’t want that.”

“Why not?” You ask, absently realising that he’s still slowly guiding the dilator into you.

“I’m a demon, mistress. A prince of Hell. Evil.”

You blink, shuddering when the dilator finally presses tightly against that spot deep within you.

“So?” You challenge, trying to focus on two things at once.

“You think I’m attached to you now, there won’t be any letting go if you give yourself to me like that. Remember a few days ago when you offered to break the bond if I wanted?”

You nod your head, cunt full.

“If you let me cum deep inside of you, I’ll never want to let you go, ever. I’d own you, mistress, you’d never be free of me. If you ran from me, I’d chase you. If you hid, I would find you. There is no corner on Earth you could ever go to, that would rid you of me.”

Your lips part, cunt clenching as he slowly pumps the slick dilator in and out of you.

“Please,” you gasp, “More.”

He obliges, pushing in deeper, rocking the pseudo-cock into you until your toes curl, a loud roaring in your head that threatens a supernova.

You squeeze his hand tightly when you come, gasping, shuddering violently, your cunt clamping down around the large size, making you feel fuller than ever, your mind drunk on the pleasure you were experiencing, unsure of where your body began and his ended.

You drop back against the bed, apparently having arched your body so forcefully that your back had raised a little off the bed.

“Oh my fucking god.” You draw out, body still convulsing occasionally, shards of pleasure still cutting through you in waves. You blink, hypersensitive, feeling your skin flush with an abundance of heat.

His lips are on your shoulder, peppering sweetly over your chest, soft, ticklish even in its gentleness.

He was right, orgasms make you a little tighter, you only realise this when he tries to tug the dilator out, and encounters resistance.

He doesn’t try to force it, twisting the object gently, continuing to kiss your shoulders.

“Deep breaths, mistress, relax.” His free hand smooths over your face, delving into your hair, squeezing at your shoulders.

His gentle touches work, and before you know it, he can tug the silicone out without hurting you.

“Last one, sweetheart.” He murmurs, reaching for the final size.

You try not to be scared, to remember that Billy was attentive, and gentle, and would rather die than have you hurt in any way.

You barely feel it, sliding into you, only a touch wider than the last and the pleasure from your last orgasm numbs the discomfort of this purple dilator as it slides into you.

You take it easily, breathing deep and even, only hitching when his tail flicks gently on your clit.

“Good, mistress, so perfect for me.” He praises guiding it in till it fits snugly inside of you.

Is this what he would feel like? Pressed deep, so deep you could feel it in your throat?

You blink up at him, wishing it were him inside of you, and not this unfeeling thing.

You feel a tug at the connection between you, telling you that he felt the exact same way.

“That demon I saw in your dreams last night, that was the real you.” You say, no question in your tone, already suspecting the answer.

You watch his throat bob, nodding.

“Will you show me?” You ask, clenching gently around the dilator.

He exhales, nodding again, backing away from you, stepping off the bed to show you his full form.

The first thing you see is his nails sharpen, then his horns growing larger, eyes going fully black, and then the beautiful dark veins spreading over his body. The darkness pools at the tips of his fingers, fading into his natural skin as it moves up his wrist. 

He looks bigger somehow, more menacing, an aura of darkness unleashes itself around him and it only arouses you more.

You glance down at the boxers he’s still wearing, watching the dark veins torment you as they dip beneath the waistband.

You sit up, gasping when the dilator feels bigger in this position, you take your time, crawling on all fours till you’re sitting on the bed just in front of him.

Your demon is beautiful, ethereal, and without a doubt, pure evil.

You smile up at him, reaching for either side of his boxers, excitement deepening when he doesn’t stop you.

The veins do in fact extend lightly over his large cock, and you moan when you observe that the tip is untouched, remaining pink, beads of precum pooling on his slit.

You look up at him, his chest heaving, fingers curled into fists, watching as you extend your tongue to softly lick at the head of his cock.

You moan at his taste, eagerly wrapping your lips around the head of him, sucking eagerly.

Big, deliciously big that you have to raise a hand to work at the base of him while you suck slowly on his tip. Every now and then, you look up at him to remind yourself that he looks like that.

So unbelievably gorgeous, you take him as deep into your mouth as you can, wanting to feel him fill your mouth, take up space in your throat, own you.

You moan, reaching down between your legs with your other hand, you gently slide the dilator in an out of you, using it to fuck yourself while you suck him off.

His hand grips the back of your head, nails scraping gently on your scalp.

“Filthy little mistress, likes being full on both ends.”

You whine at his words, flicking your eyes up to meet his dark ones.

He’s so divine, you want to tell him but you can’t spare the air it would take.

Instead you nod, forcing him deeper into your mouth.

He moans, his pleasure settling at the base of your spine, hand guiding your head up and down on his cock, panting as he looks down at you.

You want him to come in your mouth, to make you cum drunk and able to take him better. You rock your hips harder on the dilator inside you, feeling so full that you’re not sure how you’re ever going to survive without him inside of you.

You hasten the movement of your hands, abandoning your own pleasure to ensure he experiences his.

“Mistress,” He gasps, tilting his head back, you stroke him faster eagerly.

You’re greedy for his cum, he groans loudly as he spills himself into your mouth. You lose control of the quantity, some of it dripping down your chin and falling onto your breasts as you try your best to swallow.

You draw back with a gasp, and a final bit of his cum hits your cheek. You wipe your lips, sucking your fingers into your mouth, to try cleaning yourself up.

There’s too much of his spend on your skin though, and you don’t get the chance to try fully before his hand is wrapped around your throat.

You’re pressed to the bed suddenly, his body over yours, dark eyes looking at you as you feel your head go hazy.

You moan, writhing under his grip so that he’s forced to squeeze tighter, loving the attention as you get high on his cum.

Ropes wrap around your wrists, over your knees, spreading them wide the way he’s done before.

You moan when you feel him wipe at your chin and cheek, cleaning the remnants of his cum from your skin.

“My demon.” You whisper, arching your back, not trying to break free, but to beg him to fuck you any way he wanted.

The only answer you receive, is the feeling of him gripping the ends of the dilator, tugging it out slowly before pressing it back in.

“You look like a work of art, mistress.” He murmurs lowly, “Hands and legs bound, the circle of candles, the way they light up your pretty skin-” He uses a single digit to tease your stiff nipple, making you gasp, skin oversensitive, “-You’d fuel an artist’s best daydream.”

You say his name on a half sob.

“I can’t believe I get to have you like this” He continues, his tail gliding over your thighs and to your cunt, “You’re the prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

His tail circles your clit, as he slowly pumps the silicone into you, you thrash a little, the sensations are so strong, almost overpowering.

You stutter out a moan, fingers curling, unable to do anything except feel.

“That's it, mistress, show me how you'd take me.”

You gasp, eyes wide, arching your hips towards his hand in hopes that he gives you more. He obliges easily, speeding up his rhythm, your head so full of bliss that you can barely think about anything else.

He slides his free hand up from your thigh, to press over the space of your womb, he presses down a little, and you swear the sensations grow even more intense.

“I can't wait to finally fuck you, mistress. I hope you know, I'll be insatiable after. I'll probably need you so much more.”

You nod your head, easily agreeing, your body locking into place once more as your orgasm approaches.

You gasp, feeling him deepen his thrusts just a little bit more until it almost aches with how good it feels, deep, measured, something you never even knew you were craving.

You come hard, harder than you ever have before, crying out loudly as pleasure hits you at full force, your skin tingles, your cunt spasms around the silicone, holding it in place, euphoria spreading through your nerve endings, sparking heat that you can barely keep track of.

Your invisible bindings fall away as you go boneless, shuddering still as waves of bliss continue to move through you.

He falls into the space beside you, and it's through heaving breaths that you realise he's shaking too.

“Billy?” You say carefully, reaching to caress whatever part of him you could, the backs of your fingers tracing his shoulders.

He turns his head to look at you.

“Jesus Christ,” he murmurs, “I think I just felt every second of that orgasm.” He crawls his way higher, till he's face to face with you, studying you like words on a page, “Does it always feel like that?”

You chuckle, throat dry and a little achey from overuse.

“That, was probably the hardest I've ever come.” You answer.

He hums, eyelashes fluttering as he dips his head to kiss along your jaw. You tilt your head to give him space, smiling easily at his gentle and persistent attentions.

“If I hadn't come earlier, that would have no doubt set me off untouched.”

You groan, liking the sound of that.

The dilator is still inside of you, and squirm a little in discomfort.

He gets the message, reaching down, with a soft voice guiding you to relax, you feel him tug it out of you.

You let out a soft breath as it slides out, your body going from uncomfortably full, to very empty in the span of a few seconds.

“I'll be honest, I thought when we started, that you would fuck me at the end of this, but honestly, I don't think I could handle it.” You say, laughing as you finish your sentence, emphasising your own point by closing your legs, feeling how blissfully sore you are at this very moment.

He laughs along with you, a low chuckle of amusement.

“You definitely wouldn't, no offence, you're going to be really sore tomorrow, and I'm not going to help you with it.”

You blink.

“Why not?”

You feel his deviousness wrap around you. The look in his human eyes is sinister.

“I want you to ache, mistress, I want you to remember what I did, what you begged me to do, every time you move I want you to feel it, I want you to wonder how much worse it will be when it's my real cock, and not some poor substitute.”

Now why on earth did that arouse you so much?

He grins when he feels your reaction, eyes flashing red for just a moment, and you wonder if this was the corruption promised.

His hands drift over your thighs, up your stomach, cupping your breast softly on its way up to grip your throat.

You feel your body go pliant underneath him, you feel like his, a plaything for his desires.

“Ready for your bath, mistress?” He asks with a tilt of his head, and it takes you a moment to think about his words before nodding.

He scoops you into his arms, a pleased expression on his face when you wrap your arms around him easily.

Who knew that when you met him all those months ago that this is where you would end up? That one traumatic night would lead to something so… perfect.

He opens a heavy wooden door, and descends down a stone staircase, it opens up into a hallway, made of the same stone. You lose focus of where you're going in favour of snuggling into him, nose buried in his chest that you almost ignore the first sparkle you see.

You raise your head, mouth dropping open in surprise when he walks past a little table piled high with shiny gems.

“Uhhhh, Billy?” 

“Hmmm?”

You try to say more when he passes a jewel encrusted, solid gold candelabra.

You turn your head quickly to watch where you're going, finding that the hallway is lined with dozens of these shiny, jewel encrusted items of different shapes.

“What?” You ask, with absolutely zero context.

He chuckles.

“Asmodeus, the demon before me, he was something of a collector, things that were lost to time, he'd find and keep them. When I inherited his title, I also received sole access to his treasures. I'd started to move it here, until I realised that he had way too much stuff, which is why you might find these things piled anywhere I could find a space.”

You watch, amazed as he passed another little table piled high with gold coins, except that a few of the piles have toppled, spilling gold over the stone floor.

“The bathroom is gonna blow your mind.” He says without elaboration, and you feel a touch of excitement go over you.

It does, you almost think you're dreaming.

There are several lamps scattered around the room, but the chandelier hanging from the roof acts the way a suncatcher does, sending fractals of light scattering, catching on the many shiny objects in the room.

There are so many shiny things that your brain can hardly comprehend, a glittering ship, that looks like it's been made out of the finest diamonds, a large floor to ceiling mirror made out of what you think might be real rose gold and the bath- the bath is built into the floor of the room, covered, absolutely full, of shiny gold coins, crystal waters still above it.

“You're Scrooge McDuck.” You whisper in shock.

“I have no idea who that is.”

“Cartoon duck,” you mumble absentmindedly as he approaches the bath, “filthy rich, bathes in his money.”

He huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, I have no defence for that, I'm a duck I guess.”

The water is nice and warm, soothing your body from the minute he steps in.

He settles you against his body, your back to his front in the sparkling water.

A swipe of his influence, and you watch a little solid gold fountain start up, spilling water into the bath, the chandelier above head begins turning, the light spinning around the room.

It's so relaxing, you settle against him, the sound of dribbling water lulling your sated body.

“I can't believe you're this rich.” You murmur sleepily.

“We are,” he corrects, raising your hand to remind you of the tattoo on your inner wrist, “This gives you access to my things.”

You hum, deep in thought about that, the way he makes it sound like you were one.

He scoops up some gold coins from below, dropping them over your thighs. You feel the heavy weight of them, the way they slide off of your skin back to the bottom.

You feel his contentment, it melds with yours. You turn your head to kiss at his cheek and chest, the warm water soothing your little aches the way he said he wasn't going to.

It makes you smile, settling against him, heart full of something, so deep that you're not really sure which one of you is really feeling it.

.

“What about this one?” You ask, turning slowly to show him with the weight on your head.

He studies you, the lavish crown sitting on your head, a sheer robe wrapped around you that he knows will reveal your body to him in the right lighting.

“A queen I'd gladly kneel for.” He answers, eyeing you hungrily.

He watches you fight a smile, turning away to put the crown back, he feels your delight at his words.

You're examining a very long string of pearls when he decides to make his way to you. Billy breathes in your soft scent as he wraps his arms around you.

“These are really long, I wonder how they were worn.”

He hums, pressing his nose to your neck.

“I think these were made to wrap around the body.”

“Really?” You say in interest, winding them around your arm to examine the look of them.

“Let me.” He says, extending his hand, his cock stiffening in excitement of the way you'd look.

You pass them over to him curiously, turning to face him. He takes the opportunity to push the robe from your shoulders.

You gasp, and he tries not to let it distract him from his purpose, carefully starting at your neck, winding the strings of pearls over your body, he has to bite his tongue hard with the way they decorate your perfect breasts, resisting the urge to take you into his mouth before he's done.

Every curve on your body is delicious, and he crisscrosses the pearls several times over your stomach, lowering his body to his knees when he has to decorate your hips. 

He's a little sinister, guiding the pearls between your thighs, ensuring that they're pressed securely to your clit before routing them between the curves of your ass, tugging a little tightly, watching you stiffen as you experience pleasure. 

He pretends that it's normal, winding them around your body a few more times before securing it around your waist.

He looks up at you, his work of art, his mistress, he feels your arousal, worsening the longer the pearls rub against you.

He stands, taking your hands in his, tugs you forward, knowing that motion increases the sensations on your body.

He brings you to a mirror, turning to show you how beautiful you look.

Nothing stands a chance against you, he thinks to himself, admiring his work, watching you lift a hand to touch the pearls in wonder.

“Only thing that might make you prettier, is my cum soaking into your skin.”

He feels the exact moment you decide he's right.

“Only one way to find out.” You respond, turning to sink to your knees in front of him.

He groans, tilts his head back when your lips seal around the head of his cock.

Heaven wasn't as far away as it had seemed.

.

.

.

[louvebutbrainrot]

SVSSS except both Shen Jiu & Yuan know about the future

SY transmigrates except he does it earlier, just before he becomes CQ sect disciple. He still has the system and it insists on starting a tedious task of becoming a head disciple.

Except a few years later (2-3?) arrives SJ and the system shuts down (it's connected, but SY doesn't know that yet) and so SY gets to decide some things for himself (it's kind of too late to back from trying to become Peak Lord, because let's be honest - SY has too thin face to suddenly lie shamelessly about not becoming one, when he was already halfway there).

Why does the system shuts down? Well - the thing is that SJ remembers his life (or the life he lived that went according to novel).

SJ doesn't remember everything, only as far as things went till the start of his process in Huan Hua sect, but that is enough. Cue SJ deciding to either kill Binghe as soon as he sets his foot on CQM or hunt him that even before it, after he is born.

So yeah, everything is nice and all, SJ does make some things for himself better, knowing the future (his meridians aren't as hopeless as they were before), but there is one thing that isn't quite checking out - who is this head disciple that shares similar surname to his (Shen, but different characters)? How? SJ would remember him from his previous life - cue SJ trying to figure SY out, what his deal is, while the other is vibing. As in - SY decides to become Peak Lord and either give Binghe to someone else or snatch him and finds himself quite enjoying learning about all these cool things? He has a fellow transmigrator (initially SQH is at first confused by this character he didn't make up), a cool friend from Bai Zhan Peak (LQG is smitten) and all is good as long as he manages to somehow deal with SQQ - but the other doesn't seem to be anywhere? What the hell?

But he does meet the boy called SJ. They do seem to hit it off quite nicely - they both love reading and criticizing the heck out of them. They bond. Somehow. (SY finds SJ charming the way feral cats are since his self-preservation skills are what they are, it's instant deal; SJ begrudgingly grows fond of SY and since the latter doesn't seem to be aware of the future - all the references go over SY head, since they refer to things not in the book - he opts to simply protect the other from the beast).

And then they both become Peak Lords and it all comes together - like what the hell - SJ is SQQ? How is SY supposed to do in that situation? Anyone, please send help - SY is in crisis.

Tbc

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Forever and Always Masterlist

Summary: Javier Peña never thought he'd fall in love, let alone deserve to. That was, until you walked into his life and changed it for the better. Now, with a wife, a house, and 3 daughters later, Javier Peña is the happiest man alive, and couldn't be more glad he's proven his past self wrong.

This series is written as slices of life following Javi and the Peña family! It can be read on its own, or as a continuation of the series It's Never Too Late!

Pairing: Dad!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (Reader's nickname is Osita), no use of y/n

General Warnings: Each story will have their own additional warnings, and any chapters with smut will be marked with*

SMUT (18+), Javi being domestic and in love, family dynamics, language, romantic comedy, tooth rotting, sickening fluff, you and Javi having the sweetest, most adorable family 🥹💕

Status: Ongoing!

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this story! (If you're already on the taglist for NTL, I'll automatically tag you in these stories too!)

Trying: You and Javi are trying for your first baby. The two of you can't help but be excited for future baby Peña, even they don't exist yet

Bonding: Summary: You and Javi just brought your daughter Lucy home from the hospital. While the two of you couldn't be more in love and excited at the addition of your newest family member, it doesn't mean that you both aren't feeling some of the nerves of being first time parents

Kicking: The past few weeks of your pregnancy, Baby Peña number 2 has been kicking you non-stop. Javi tries his best to help you relax and give you some relief. *

Dirty Laundry: Life with two toddlers has taken a toll on your sex life for the past few weeks, but after a surprisingly calm morning, you and Javi find a creative solution to solve your problem.*

Tired: You had spent weeks looking forward to your date night with Javi, but once the day actually arrives, it seems like everything that could go wrong, has gone wrong. Lucky for you, Javi knows just how to make your day better. *

Promises: When you wake up to find your house quiet, your first reaction is panic. But after you find Javi and learn what he has planned for you this morning, your mood becomes a whole lot better.*

Amor: After a bad day at work, coming home to his family makes Javi realize his day wasn't so bad after all

Lunch: Javi's rough start to the work week is turned around when he finds a surprise from his daughters in his lunch

Fight: When you get a phone call from your elementary school that your girls got into a fight, Javi leaves work to figure out what happened

Merry Christmas, Baby: You're not sure what to get Javi for Christmas, until he gives you an idea for a gift you can't put under the tree*

Reindeer: It's Christmas Eve, and you and Javi spent the night preparing for your girls to have the most magical Christmas morning*

Haircut: Javi thinks that he's way past due for a haircut. You like his hair long for reasons other than his good looks.*

Uh-Oh: Javi's Girl Dad skills get put to the ultimate test when your oldest daughter gets her period and you're not home to help her

Growing: After a concerning phone call from his daughter's Principal, Javi goes to find out the true reason why she's really there in the first place.

[harunayuuka2060]

Malleus: *volunteered to accompany MC back to the Ramshackle dorm*

MC: Uh... Hornton? You don't have to hold my hand...

Malleus: You didn't have to sleep in Kingscholar's room either.

MC: ...

MC: You're really not going to let me get away with it, huh...

Malleus: I'm your future husband and yet... Wouldn't you agree that can be compared to cheating? *turns to smile at them*

MC: Well, it doesn't sit right with me to bring the kids to Diasomnia.

Malleus: I can babysit the young Kingscholar and the young Rosehearts if that's what you're worried about.

MC: That's-

"Couples like this sucks."

"You're definitely right about that, Idia."

MC and Malleus: Huh?

Idia's child self and Vil's child self: *waiting for their arrival*

Vil's child self: *frowning at the sight of them* You should apologize for making us wait.

Idia's child self: Your house is really boring. I want to get out of here.

MC: ...

Vil and Idia: ...

Idia: *to his child self* What were you thinking tagging yourself along?

Idia's child self: I was dragged.

Idia: Great.

Vil: How about you? Didn't you have modelling projects around this month?

Vil's child self: Yes. But they were probably cancelled now because I went missing.

Vil: !!!

Vil: Potato...

MC: I can explain- No, nevermind. I don't know the explanation to this.

Idia's child self: Let me. It's your father-figure a.k.a Fairy Godfather.

Idia, Vil, MC, and Malleus: ...Fairy Godfather?

Vil's child self: Yes. The one who grants wishes and messes up with the timeline.

Idia's child self: He wants us to bond us with you or something. And then we can leave.

Vil's child self: You can pay for my talent fee later.

MC: ...

MC: I feel like this is going to be stressful.

Vil: If you can't handle my younger self, I can take care of him instead.

Vil's child self: *looking at Vil* You look gorgeous.

Vil: Why, thank you.

Vil's child self: Have we beaten Neige yet?

Vil: ...

MC: Vil?

Vil: I've changed my mind. You take care of him.

Malleus: How about you, Shroud?

Idia: Yeah. Maybe I can.

Idia's child self: How's Ortho? Is he studying here too?

Idia: Um...

Malleus: Yes. I believe he's with the other first-year students.

Idia's child self: Really? I want to see him.

Idia: You can't!

Idia's child self: ???

Vil's child self: Give me a separate room. And I want it to be elegant and fashionable.

Idia's child self: Same. I don't like sharing room with someone.

Leona's child self and Riddle's child self: *being carried by MC*

Leona's child self: Wow. They're really bossing you around.

Riddle's child self: I feel annoyed for some reason.

MC: I'm kinda expecting this, so I'm not surprised.

Ace: We really need to investigate who's this fairy godfather they're talking about.

Epel: Yeah. I'm feeling bad for MC having to deal with our housewardens' younger selves every single time one of them pops out of nowhere.

Deuce: But... I think all of them have appeared now.

Ace and Epel: ...

Epel: Yeah!

Ace: Even so, we need to find out who the fairy godfather is.

Deuce: Why?

Ace: Because!

Ace: What if our younger selves show us this time! Wouldn't that be embarrassing?!

Deuce: ...

Deuce: Y-You're right!

Epel: Huh? I don't get it.

Epel: Why would you be embarrassed?

[justblades]

⌕ LUSTFUL REQUIEM, 18+

⟢ yandere! blade x afab! reader wc : 1.7k

⟢ cw : fxck buddy! blade, dubcon, cervix kissing, degradation, toxic themes, filming, choking, somnophilia

❝ you're merely a canvas, and his longings are stains— to etch on your skin that you are none other than blade's. ❞

blade is not one to typically fall for eye candies as if it was a part of his everyday routines, no one piques his attention nor does the male has his eyes set on a person. it was not until long once he gets a taste of flavors of lust: commixing together, making a concoction he would never forget, that one day, he decided to yearn for more.

every beginnings are sweet nothings that eventually become bitterly endings - one could draw that conclusion as scenes continue to unfold, blade's grasp on your wrists tightening as he bucks his hips upwards, thrusting into your slit with little to no difficulties.

adorned by your melting features are the weak sighs you let out everytime he slips his cock into you, sweat and drool racing down your dewed skin. "louder." his voice was flat and stern, an intonation that pierces through your wary self. you part your lips wider so more natural moans come out just as the male orders you to, a smirk of satisfaction following suit once his wish is finally fulfilled.

"were you moaning this loud for that asshole earlier?" another question rises from blade's dry throat, dehumanizing queries coming out one by one the longer the session prolonged. you shook your head vigorously and shut your eyes, but blade bucks his hips with more force now, his cock's tip eventually meeting with your cervix. "don't give me that nodding and shaking your head, i only take words for an answer."

his brows tightly knit, frustration seethes out of his gritted teeth. "answer!"

uncertainty fills your heart to the brim as you slowly take a trip down the memory lane, recollecting the events that unraveled earlier that lead to this now-present, once future.

crimson hues seep out of the man's wounds, several of his teeth had fallen out already - his body failed to keep himself stable and the navy haired across him doesn't falter. he only continues. "i can do this all night." blade says with utmost confidence lacing his words, the bandages of his hand come undone, revealing such deep wounds that seemed to have never recover.

ah. you understand a part of blade's destructive behavior now. the reason he's like this was because you slept with another man behind him— "fucking slut. how could you do that to me?" he lets go of your wrists for a short moment, only for them to land back on the silhouette of your waist, cupping the margins to make your body shudder the deeper he pushes in- "come on. rock your hips like how you did as you fucked that loser."

it was only a connection solely established to cope with ephemeral temptations. shortlived feelings yet the hardest to resist is what describes lust best, especially for two beings who feed on nothing but these urges. it was a mutual bond, a shared understanding to not be cuffed by the confinements of this relationship, but blade crossed that fine line like it was a a puny boundary for him.

you should've known from the beginning. you should've been able to discern from the way his glassy eyes scrutinize your appearance everytime he realizes you just got back from the hands of another man. you should've been able to know from the way the words roll out of his tongue when he speaks out of frustration, no rational thoughts behind those lashed out actions.

amidst of all of that - it feels good to be filled to the brim by your fuck buddy's dick. regardless of how he beat the guy you were with into a pulp with no hopes of recovering, here you are, basking in the pleasures intercourse with blade had to offer. it felt gratifying, but it's also heavily contradicting.

the same hands he use to inflict wounds on people who got close to you are the same hands now gradually becoming tender in his touches as he pounds into your velvet walls - blade picks up this little detail, a sneering smile replaces his scowl in an instant. "are you feeling good now?" he leans to your face, the tall bridge of his nose few inches away from yours.

your eyes burn in crystalline reflections, perfectly reflecting blade's image as he presses his lips onto yours, tongues next in action, twisting and twirling altogether— fighting for dominance. "h. . hmm." you hum as a response, much to blade's delight. he quickly breaks it off however, a hoarse chuckle slips out next.

"i've become so whipped for you," blade muses, catching you off guard. he bats his long lashes as he trails your facial features up and down. "i can't bear the thought of anyone else fucking you like this." his dominant hand at present cups your cheek, the thumb finger drawing viscules on the dampened skin. blood rushes into your cheeks as you mewl at how his grip once more tenses, "at last, i can call you mine now." his smile felt rather eerie that you could only return a mere "huh?"

he shifts his gaze elsewhere, a coy smile replaces the eerie one in a blink. "i can't believe my fantasies are finally coming to real life." a crease between your brows forms but the male has your body flipped in 20 machs speed, your back now lays flat on the matress while his cock is nestled in between your lower lips, he rocks his hips forward to make friction, another string of mewl escaping past your mouth.

"but . . but didn't we agree there's no strings attached in this?" the atmosphere grows suffocating, blade's looming presence tripled, leaving no room for you to breathe. a click of tongue then chimes into your ears, "those agreements hold no meaning any longer. i've fallen for you . . and you have too. right?" the airway from your throat proceeds to become scuffed as his two hands wrap around the part, "b-blade i can't b—!"

he reinserts his cock back into your entrance and your cunt gladly accepts his intrusion, clamping around his shape as he continually molds your insides. "say you're mine. say only i have the privilege of relishing you like this."

'blade has gone insane', is what you thought upon hearing those bizarre words of choice. you're starting to fear for your life underneath the contrasting touches of your sexual partner, you had no choice but to fall prey to his temptations. his navy dipped scarlet strands tumble on his shoulders in every thrusts he does, he sports a look you've never seen before: a predatory gaze as he watches your lust ridden body, "i-i'm yours. . i'm all y-yours!" you yelp.

you could only hope he gives you a slack, even just a minute would be nice to indulge without him bombarding you with insults and offensive questions. "finally." he rejoices with another arrogant smile, solferino irises turning inwards at the halfhearted sentence that rang to his ears like sweet tones.

"ride me again." for the nth time, he commands you once more. you could feel all the fatigue gnawing at your bones, unable to register how much energy the mental state can drain oneself. blade sees you struggle and he helps you get into position with the help of his fists on your feet, "no, turn the other way around."

your back faces him while your hands are propped on his sculpted, bandaged thighs. this position out of the dozen ones you've already tried with blade strikes you as the most embarrassing one. your legs continue to tremble as you try to keep yourself up, but only now a late realization dawns in your mind as you get a clear sight of what's placed in front of the cabinet across the bed: a cellphone camera accurately leveled to catch both your bodies in one frame.

"hah, you just saw that now?" he pants as he reinserts his dick back into your entrance, your pussy spasms from being ravaged by his cock. "it'll be for our eyes only. i can never share such intimate moment with others, they're simply undeserving."

you wished that reassurance could've ceased your worries, but it didn't.

"this video will be our proof of love and my proof of property of you. this day marks my ownership of you." he murmurs, his deep voice meshes with the squelching sounds emitted from his cock kissing your pussy, and the jagged breathy mewls. "i'm so delighted all of my hardwork paid off, mmh. . ." low moans continue to bubble from his throat, his fingers sinking deep to your body.

"i don't want to share you anymore."

.

.

.

"those days are long over."

.

.

.

"hmph, are you listening?"

blade ascends from his position only to see your passed out state - he cracks a hoarse chuckle afterwards, seeing your frail figure right in the solace of his arms.

"this is fine. i can still worship your body regardless of your consciousness." he murmurs to himself, readjusting your position laid back again in the soft cushions. he coils his hands around his dick, tightening his grip to merit himself waves of pleasure. "ah, haah, i feel so good." blade's guttural moans bounce off the room's four walls, the male then swiftly rubs his tip on your entrance, and with little force, it slips back in. "i'm happy. i . . i know you are too."

all blade is a filth of sorrow, regrets and sadness. growing up, he never understood the charm of owning something. he'd always watch by the windowsill, a blank expression carved on his face, seeing children around his age gleefully claim what's theirs. perhaps . . his upbringing was molded that way for today. for today, he finally owns something now. something that fills the cup of his heart to the point that it's overflowing - something that could satisfy his perpetual yearning.

it is no doubt he'll never let go of you now— at present, you're nothing but a bird inside of a rotten cage. you're merely a canvas, and his longings are stains— to etch on your skin that you are none other than blade's.

that you're merely a timeless fodder for his everlasting hunger: a hunger to own and a hunger to love. at long last, he finally has one.

"i really love you."

A/N : the upbringing part is just my own and obviously not canon, it's more to expound on how he became a yandere for reader ^^ my masterlist !

[hellinistical]

Thoughts on Rafayel- contains card spoilers and lore spoilers.

Rafayel is like a salmon in that he goes out of his home (never forgets the way no matter how far), and slowly loses bits of himself, eventually rotting while alive. Only taking 1 mate for his life time(s), and how in some cases, should she wish to go to her home would return with her despite nature telling him to return to his own. He loses his scales, his sight, his fins, lots of his weight, his strength, and yet still mc consumes him even after the rot. (Farmers often collect salmon when they're returning home before they can lay eggs or soon after; once they lay the eggs and frrtilize them they've served their purpose so they usually die soon). But of course, the farmer doesn't settle for one fish, he gets others. So the fish that's been caught, knowing its going to die anyways, let's the farmer catch it.

If rafayel is hunger then the mc is greed, or better yet, hunger with no appetite. Wasteful. And salmon- even if they're farm raised, still don't learn to get away from the farmer even when they see their kind getting caught.

Lemurians are huge and rafayel, compared to the other mls, is significantly smaller.

Additionally, thinking about child/teen rafayel (sea god him) who foolishly promised himself to mc on the first meeting and how naive he was to just trust her, giving up his future. at the first glance? possibly. but i saw it as more so curiosity and the first start of a crush or feeling flattered. cause mc said she liked his scales and he was like "where i come from that means you like me" which means he understood the societal differences and still went ahead and made a pact with her.

okay so like. he wasnt the sea god in this life but the price he had to pay for the aether core was taking up the responsibility of the sea god once again, but whether this applies to his future self/future lives is unclear, which makes me think that being the sea god is by contract not by blood, nor is it bound by any one person. it is a spirit that possesses you. This would clear confusion that he has lived for 800 years yet died over and over again.

So mc has a bond with both, rafayel *and* the sea God entity/the sea itself. The path just makes it so that they are one being (rafayel and the sea)

And the sea God is messy for using a child to (using this lightly) forcing a contract on mc's spirit (who was ALSO a child).

Kinda like Karma. Karma has you reborn as smth non-human depending how bad you were. Being human was your best bet. But ultimately you wanna *stop* being reborn. Which means achieving enlightenment. There's definitely aspects of Buddhism in his lore.

Also, the only thing that stopped the sea god from killing mc here was the bond she had with *rafayel*- cause she ordered him to stop and snap out of it. And this shows his awareness of the curse (cause let's face it, that's what it is).

Maybe this is a stretch. Idk.

He gave his scales to her, letting her tame him, his leg is weak from turning to a human, he's slowly losing his sight, and he cut off his fins on his ears (check the back- there's scars behind his ears).

[aziraphales-library]

Thank you so much for all the work you do💗

I was wondering if you have any long human au fics with lots of angst and a happy ending? Again thank you!!

You're welcome! We have #long fic, #human au, and #angst tags where there will be plenty of overlap, so do dip into those. Here are more for you...

Lessons in the Humanities by Greenathena (M)

Aziraphale Fell teaches English at Eden Midtown Academy. His new co-worker, Anthony Crowley, is a bit of a wild card, who doesn't mind ruffling a few feathers. Over the course of the school year, their friendship seems to be growing into something more. That is until Aziraphale is offered a high-stakes job, overseeing state testing for the whole of the Massachusetts Department of Education. They're in love, your honor. Possibly. Probably. It's ineffable complicated.

What is forgiveness but the silence after a scream? by Moonstone_Lingo (M)

After being forced to return to the town he once ran away from decades ago when he hears of his mother's death, Aziraphale is confronted with a past he wants to forget, but one that is hauntingly insistent on being relived. When a chance encounter with a stranger reveals that Crowley is not far away at all, Aziraphale must consider which he cares about more: his belief in God or his love for Crowley, and not wanting to choose, he quickly discovers he cannot have both. Unsure whether it is already too late, Aziraphale learns that he has to fight for what he wants before it slips out of his grasp. or "God loves you, Crowley." "not enough to stop hurting me." "I love you, Crowley." "not enough to save me."

As Yet Untitled by badwolfgirlicouldkissyou (E)

Aziraphale Fell is a number one best-selling author, despite his lack of self confidence and desire to hide from the public eye. Whilst fighting off his anxiety disorder at the premiere of his first novel's feature film adaptation, he meets an enigmatic, mysterious photographer who seems to only have eyes for him. Can they navigate their newfound bond? Or will past trauma and current obstacles get in their way?

Adaptive Innovations for a Changing World by amelia_airheart (E)

When Anthony Crowley meets Aziraphale Fell at Aziraphale's library, little do they know that they will turn each other's worlds upside down. After a magical week spent falling in love, they face a hard reality. Will they be able to make the choices they need to make to build a real life together?

And the fire will consume us by Merlarme (M)

Crowley works as a firefighter. One day he rescues Aziraphale, a paramedic, who is trapped in a burning building. Grateful Aziraphale decides to find his rescuer and, after getting to know him a little better, realises that they have a lot in common and are both so lonely that the accident that brought them together turned out to be a true grace.

Sinking Ships by AppleSeeds (E)

The world is practically on fire and it feels like nobody's doing anything about it, but Crowley's outlook brightens considerably when a new member arrives at his local climate action committee. Crowley is immediately smitten, and is thrilled when he and Aziraphale become fast friends, although he can't help but hope they might one day become something more. When all of his wishes come true, Crowley starts to feel like life couldn't possibly get any better. He can picture exactly what his future is going to look like, until something happens that feels like a powerful bolt of lightning has struck and split Crowley's life right down the middle, with everything before that moment on one side, and everything that is to come - scorched, lifeless and devastated - on the other. With the help of a counsellor, Crowley begins the difficult journey of picking up the pieces and working through what's happened. When Aziraphale unexpectedly comes back into his life, Crowley finally has the chance to get some answers, revealing that the truth is very different from what he was led to believe. Now he just needs to figure out whether that changes anything.

- Mod D

[mogitz]

Don't think about Lucien Vanserra witnessing the unspeakable: his world crumbling as the love of his life is ripped away from him and murdered right before his eyes. Don't picture his brothers holding him back, making him watch it all - every excruciating detail - as he's powerless to stop it.

Forget the image of him, broken and bleeding, dragging himself to the sanctuary of the Spring Court boundary, barely making it over the line before his knees give out beneath him. Don’t think about the emptiness that surely follows, nor the weight of his grief so heavy it's a wonder he could even stand to make it to safety in the first place. Don’t think about all the times on his journey he just wanted to give up altogether, but pushed on so that Jesminda’s death was not in vain.

Don't think about him having to turn against two of his own brothers, killing them in a twisted act of vengeance that feels nothing like the justice he sought. Resist the thought of him taking weeks, months, (years??) to mourn in solitude because Tamlin, though knowing loss to this magnitude as well, could not possibly navigate the depths of Lucien's grief. Thus, Lucien was left to weather his storm of sorrow and loss the same way Tamlin had weathered his own - alone - hiding away from a world that had taken everything from him

Don’t picture him upon the dawn-kissed roof of the Spring manor, where the dance of pinks and oranges and blues in the sky only seems to deepen his yearning for an Autumn forever lost to him. And don’t think about how in the Spring Court he has found some kind of solace... but never peace. How despite finding a home there, his soul remains restless, wandering, always running from the shadows of his past. Running from his future. Running from himself.

And please don’t think about how Lucien's gratefulness to Tamlin for giving him something close to a family results in a loyalty so profound that he'd walk into hell for him. Which he does - right into Amarantha’s clutches - only to come back less than whole, another piece of him stolen away.

That beauty he was known for? Gone.

Just like everything else.

Don’t imagine Lucien slowly piecing himself back together - inch by painstaking inch. Forget about the way he masters the art of sarcasm and humor, how he wields his wit like a shield to keep others at bay, to convince them, and maybe himself, that he's not hurting as much as he is. That beneath the quips and the easy smiles lies a well of pain and self-doubt so deep it's become part of who he is. That this levity he brings into every room is, in truth, the heaviest thing he carries.

And hey. Don't think about Lucien giving up any hope of being wanted, of being loved again. That his chance at having a mate, a true partner, was as dead as his former lover.

Or how, in a twist that must have amused fate itself, the Cauldron surprises him with a mate in Elain Archeron: his undeniable yet unwilling counterpart. How from nowhere, a bond snaps into place, redefining his destiny and sealing a connection that he'd long since given up on.

And don't think about how when Lucien's eyes meet Elain’s, somewhere beneath all the layers of loss and hurt and betrayal….  a spark of hope dares to ignite once more.

And then absolutely don't let your thoughts wander to his heart being trampled on, again, when he realizes that Elain - like everyone else - doesn’t want him. But at this point he’s not even surprised. It’s just another sharp sting in a lifetime's collection of disappointments and cruel irony. Don't dwell on how he's gotten so used to the taste of rejection and the feeling of being unworthy that he doesn't even think about trying to change her mind about him. Because, what's the point, right? Why bother when history has shown him, time and time again, that even just hoping seems to lead him to more pain?

Don’t think about how despite this, he still seeks her out just enough to show he’s willing to give it a shot if she is. How against his every instinct to protect himself, he keeps himself open to the slightest possibility of her, knowing it just leaves the door open to be hurt. And don't think about how every time Elain shies away from him, every time she looks through him or chooses to keep her distance, it just reinforces  his walls, makes him retreat a little more behind his carefully constructed façade. Because facing that rejection head-on, acknowledging it, would mean admitting to himself that he's still holding onto a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, she could see past the surface. That she could want him, not despite of all he's been through, but because of it. That she could be the one to see him, really see him, and not turn away.

So, yeah, don’t go there. It's easier to laugh it off, to pretend it doesn't matter, than to face the possibility of another door closing in his face. Easier to keep up the act, to be the Lucien everyone expects - charming, sarcastic, unbothered - than to risk showing just how much Elain's avoidance cuts him to the core.

But don’t think about it. 

Because acknowledging that Lucien's humor and charm are just his way of coping? That means seeing the depth of his loneliness, the real Lucien who's been hiding in plain sight, waiting for someone to care enough to look closer. And understanding that? It's realizing that beneath the façade, Lucien's just waiting for someone to prove him wrong, to show him he's worth the risk, worth the love he's convinced himself he doesn't deserve.

And Elain, with her quiet strength and her own hidden depths, might just be the one to see the real Lucien. To challenge the walls he's built around himself, if only he could believe, one more time, that he's worthy of being chosen, of being loved.

But perhaps Mor is right - they aren’t ready. And Lucien’s not sure he’s ready to gamble his heart on hope again. Not yet, anyway.

So, really, don’t think about it—unless you’re ready to root for them, to believe in the kind of love that could be their light at the end of a very dark tunnel. Because Lucien and Elain? They could be something epic, a testament to the power of second chances and the strength of a love that comes when you least expect it but most need it. That their path isn’t just about two people finding love in an unfair world that has taken the things they both hold dear; it’s a journey of coming back to life after being lost in the dark for far too long.

So yeah, just don’t. It’s a lot.

[genji-centric]

hi!! may i please get a uh ram nsfw alphabet or even a junk nsfw alphabet😁 ur pick💕

Ofc!! I'll start off w Ramattra l, I got some Junkrat requests you can look forward to in the future ^^

Ramattra NSFW Alphabet

MDNI!!! NSFW under the cut!

A = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Ramattra isn't one for.. bonding after you both finish. He's more relaxed than he usually finds himself, for an act so simple he was surprised to feel.. almost complete. Of course, he doesn't let his mind wander. He's a leader and can't waste his day alone by your side. But after being so rough, well, he can't just abandon his little pet human. He would carry you to the bathroom and draw you a bath, make sure any aches and sores are taken care of before he departs. Maybe once he reaches his goals, he could set aside time for you, make you an important part of his day even.. but for now, that's the only care you will receive.

B = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Ramattra is an omnic, cold, and robotic. Due to his build, he is powerful. The upgrades with his nemesis give him strength others could only dream of. His wit is beyond most humans he suffices, and he's one to pride himself on his parts. But his favorite is his hands. With them, he can upgrade himself as he so pleases, hold the staff he brings to battle, pin his favorite pet to the wall as he thrusts from behind whispering insults as you sob. On you? Well.. all humans are the same in his eyes, but you.. you are different. He can't choose a certain part that's his favorite. If he kept the thought in mind, he would settle of how.. squishy human flesh is. How easy he can mold you into positions.. that's what he finds enjoyable the most.

C = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Ramattra doesn't cum, in fact he finds the idea rather.. unpleasant. Just another thing about humans he couldn't help but despise. Such organic ways of reproduction are messy.. and reproduction only creates more soldiers to harm his people. Yet his ideas can shift, for being a monk in the past, he has learned to change his ways. With a mind open he can find a sick pleasure in your cum, he doesn't which to be covered. Oh no, he likes bending you in ways where you get your fluids on yourself. It's demeaning, but that's the case for many moments with him.

D = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Ramattra.. well, he never saw himself having such relations with a human. Something so.. simple didn't catch his eye. So he still feels a bit odd when he holds you, gropes you, claims you. You, to him, is his dirty secret. He doesn't want other omnics to know he fell for such a thing, a human? Him? The idea is preposterous, so for now, your lives are kept private. But one day, he oh so wishes to free the little secret and claim you on the factory floor of the Null Sector as others look on to such a display.

E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Ramattra doesn't.. only because of you he gave those omnic enhancements for human relations a try. But believe me, he learns fast. During the first time, it only took gentle guiding before he was already rearranging your guts while saying filthy things in your ear. You would've thought he was highly experienced, but no, Ramattra would never share the fact he spent how long researching human anatomy for this.

F = favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes control, Ramattra wants to be the one in power. He bends his little human around as he so pleases. An ironic change of power, instead of the humans in control, it's him, the omnic. If you forced him to answer. He'd laugh and say, "What a petty question," before he would give in. His favorite is doggy, forcing your face into the pillow while he pounds at a harsh pace from behind, watching the curve of your ass jiggle from how hard he was going.

G = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He isn't humorous outside of the bedroom. Inside is no different. But that doesn't mean he wouldn't laugh, oh no. He would laugh at you, your reactions, how fragile humans are.. how needy they are. "Ha. Already all sensitive? Weak. You humans can't even handle such little time with a thing you crave.."

H = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Ramattra doesn't have hair. Unless you count the wires he has, but he doesn't actually have hair, let alone pubic hair.

I = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Ramattra isn't one for romance. But you.. well, he can make an exception just this once. After a strenuous day, watching armies go into battle. There's nothing he wants more than to see his little pet.. ironic how that is. After taking out the stress of the day on you, he's content to just hold you. Pet your hair and whisper sweet nothings. "You did well.. very well." Simple compliments are the world coming from him, Ranattra is no romantic lover. But during those soft moments, he feels like any person's dream.

J = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he first installed the.. enhancements he got. Of course, he had to try it out. The sensors.. well, they were a strange feeling but somewhat pleasant. When he felt something.. start to tighten, he grew concerned there was a malfunction, something he needed to fix. But he continued, and he found himself being pushed over the edge. Like his motherboard overloaded for a moment before this feeling of pure, relaxion hit. It was enjoyable, and if his little pet human isn't there to help him out, he might use his hand once more.

K = kink (one or more of their kinks)

Ramattra is well.. he thought things such as sex would be simple. It's just an act, nothing more.. right? He was soon to find out there was much more than just the act itself, emotions, positions, and even different kinks. At first he didn't want to expierement, but he found himself getting rougher and enjoying it. Without telling you, he looked into the more.. extreme parts. Hard domination peaked his interest, along with bindings. After trying them out, he learned he loved to deny you, making you whine and cry for your release. It pleases him, making a human beg for his mercy.

L = location (favorite places to do the do)

He's a private man, opting to claim you in your bedroom or his quarters. Away from any prying eyes, away from judgment. He still feels a small bit of embarrassment knowing he fell for a human. It isn't directed at you, but it feels like a weak point in what he fights for. So he just wants to keep his time with you private, just for him to enjoy.

M = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Ramattra wants to say he doesn't crave sex like the pet he has.. but that just isn't true. After a long day, leading his army, meetings, and so on. He needs to release his stresses of the day into you, to rut into the tight, warm walls he grew to love. He loves watching you grow needy over him, using his legs to hump against like you were in heat. Just how desperate you get over him is that it turns him on more than anything.

N = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn't want to be subservient to a human, no. Omnics have already had to bend to the will of humans to be cast as monsters once they had the freedom of choice. Being told what to do.. getting told by a pet of his wjat to do. It's just not something he will entertain the idea of. He wants his little pet to he obedient, not him.

O = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Ramattra doesn't have a mouth. Even if he did, he wouldn't waste such time with a lowly human, even if it was you. But oral for him? There's nothing he wants more than to put his little pet human in it's place on their knees below him, only allowed to please him.

P = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Ranattra isn't one to be soft, especially on a human. When he gets to have his way with you, he calls the shots. And he prefers it to be fast, rough, and make it so you can only focus on him. It's a way to pound all that stress into his own little human of his own, but on the days he accepts the fact a human has his heart then.. well, he decides to be slow. To enjoy the warmth you bring, the sounds you make.. all just to admire. All so different, but all so unique.

Q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Ramattra isn't one for quickies. If he wants it himself, he will take his time. Some things just can't be rushed. But if his pet is being particularly needy, then fine, he will give in just once. He won't admit the fact he enjoys he has the ability to make someone desire him in such a way, it's a boost in pride for him.

R = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Fighting wars is risk at its rawest form. Sending troops after troops to battles the machinery used would need to be rebuilt time and time again. Ramattra is used to risks. It's what he does on a day to say basis. This is why he wants to keep his time with you private, with little risks of being caught or putting you in danger. He wants to be in control of everything entirely. If there's the chance something could go array, he is not interested.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As an omnic, his stamina is nigh infinite. He can go for as many rounds as he so desires, and he uses that to his advantage. Each time you two have sex you are left disheveled, tired, and sore. He can also last as long as he wants. He has control over himself. Ramattra is mean but isn't heartless. He will listen if you truly need to stop.

T = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He sees no purpose in using toys. He is right there, so why do you need a small bit of silicone? Because Ramattra is an omnic, he can switch out parts as he needs. After his favorite little pet has been rather.. obedient, he decided to treat them. As he started the process of preparing his little human to take him, his fingers began to vibrate. It was sudden, but felt oh so good. After hearing the noises you made, Ramattra decided he would happily install more.. erotic functions to his body.

U = unfair (how much they like to tease)

As a former monk, he knows patience. He has spent years of his life dedicated to meditation, waiting. His skills he still practices, the patience helping him plan each move carefully. And how long he can hold himself from you, he can go weeks without touching you. All while whispering about how your treat is soon to come, he wants you to disobey.. to touch yourself behind his back. His teasing is all with the goal to punish you. All humans are weak minded.. unlike him. So go on, he wants you to give into those selfish human desires. It isn't unfair. He just wants to prove a point.

V = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Ramattra isn't one to moan. Be loud, and give you the impression he's enjoying himself. You are more likely to hear him make noise on the battlefield over the bedroom. That's just how he is. When he's close, he would let out some grunts, but when he crosses the finish line, he goes quiet and enjoys the feeling. He would much rather listen to you.

W = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If he succeeds in his goal, giving omnics power, he believes they all deserve he will settle down. He doesn't wish for a pure domestic life, but he truly does wish to have you by his side as his lover. To keep you on a pedestal by his side, his favorite pet human. He wants nothing more than to show you off, to claim you in front of others once he doesn't have to worry about appearances.

X = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

After you came into his life, he learned more about humans. More than he ever wished to. Out of curiosity, he looked into omnic and human relationships and was surprised there was.. certain upgrades for such cases. He kept it a secret, but Ramattra had located such an upgrade. The.. device is purple in color. Made of silicone, with ridges from the base to tip. It's both squishy and firm, with wires he connected to his other sensors. Ramattra was genuinely surprised he could.. feel such sensations, but after getting the upgrade, there is no going back.

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Ramattra in an omnic who holds off on more.. indulgent activities. Only you had made him even entertain the idea of such obscene actions. To which he tries to ignore the need, but after getting a taste, he finds himself fantasizing about taking his little pet human more and more. But he holds large amounts of self-restraint, only he knows how often he dreams of indulging such.. peculiar activities.

Z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Ramattra doesn't need to sleep, but when he's feeling rather.. tender, he will hold you close and let you rest in his arms. You look so small compared to him, and he feels protective. If you can fall asleep as he holds you, he will sit in silence. Meditating and enjoying the moment of silence you share.

[merakiui]

i agree with the assignments but hmmm... i think malleus should be gluttony and idia lust! I feel like the same reasons we can confuse idia for pride can be the reasons why he fits lust. Whereas the reasons malleus can fit greed, is why he's gluttony if that makes sense? Also when it boils down to it, i feel like malleus can be in a sexless relationship based on pure love but i can see idia blowing his lid if he gets continually denied. I also feel like malleus has more self control and even with biological ruts, he can hold back and not "make a mistake" where i feel like idia would downright demand darling to take care of his lust. I know we always joke abt shy subby uwu idia, but ppl forget who he represents and just how depraved he can be. It can get rlly dark w him and lust >_<. But malleus, i see more of like gluttony for life and experiences. I think nothing would make him happier than to be at the center of the table, surrounded by food and drink and company and having a ball of a time. Even as the night weighs on and people are exhausted, malleus wont dismiss them as yet because HE is enjoying himself and having a good time, to the point where he is the only one smiling at the table anymore and everyone else is tortured to be there because of his gluttony for companionship. Mal is a spoiled prince and if he lacked any less, he would be envy, but he has everything. He has a lot of pride too, but not infront of player, and when it boils down to it, Idia has desire, but Malleus really just has a hunger to be accepted and loved.

AAAA ANON, THESE ARE WONDERFUL POINTS!!!!! Very thought-provoking!!! I wanted to separate sex and lust for what I have in mind for the fic (and if I wasn't writing about the seven Overblots then Rollo would immediately take the sin of lust for very obvious reasons and symbolisms. <3). I definitely agree that Malleus and Idia fit lots of different sins and so it can be difficult to assign just one to them (as well as the rest of the cast, but it's a little easier for some of them,,, i.e. Riddle's infamous temper grants him wrath by default. Azul's insatiable avarice (when it comes to his contracts) grants him greed. Etc etc.)

I do think there is a solid difference between desiring something and hungering for it, but then they also pair well together from time to time. Perhaps desire gives way to hunger. To hunger for something is to do so out of desperation (in some cases), and since Malleus is such a lonely soul and has never truly had a connection in which someone looks past the lofty title of heir apparent and future ruler of Briar Valley it makes sense for him to hunger so desperately for that sort of connection. It's why he's unable to simply let Lilia go and why he doesn't want to lose him. He can't accept the finality of an ending or parting, which is why he puts everyone to sleep in hopes that they can all find happiness in their dreams.

I think you can also argue that Idia hungers a little in book six. He desperately doesn't want the job he's set to inherit, and even when he was little he wanted to find a way to escape with Ortho. But due to the circumstances and the curse of his lineage there's only so much that can be done, or so he views it as such.

Perhaps these sins are interchangeable with Malleus and Idia depending on how you frame it. They both desire and hunger for things in their own ways. Idia's guilt and stress overwhelms him and his idea of getting what he's always desired is to reset the world alongside Ortho. Malleus's loneliness and desperation to hold onto the bonds he currently has (his unwillingness to let these go, to accept the fact that everyone will inevitably grow old and that life goes on, his desire and/or hunger to be seen and accepted for himself)......... aaaaa it's great!!!!

Rambling aside, I do love the thought of Idia embodying lust and Malleus embodying gluttony. I'm still debating between the two, but now I'm inclined to lean more towards these assignments after reading your thoughts and dissecting my own. They're very fitting from your perspective!!! >w< also,,,, I like a very dark, messed up Idia, so perhaps pairing him with lust will make for very yummy concepts.

[animezinglife]

Maybe it's my age talking, but I do think the Azriel vs. Lucien thing is blown way out of proportion.

There's a difference between attraction and being in love with someone, and another difference still between having a crush and being in love.

TL/DR: I genuinely think the biggest piece people overlook in this Azriel vs. Lucien puzzle is Elain herself and the layers of her internal conflict. Personally, I suspect it's much bigger than them both.

Here's the thing:

Azriel is gorgeous and is basically described as looking like a dark, fallen angel. He went into Hybern's war camp and got her out of there alongside Feyre, took her in his arms and flew her to safety. He's been kind to her, too. He hasn't pushed her to talk and has a quiet, strong presence that I'm sure is quite comforting to her.

There is zero expectation with him--zero pressure that she would even be able to create in her own mind. There's no "mate" term dangling over them and no friends or family breathing down their necks at every turn, acting like they should be supervised for something they didn't do. They're the only two people in their current circle (exempting Mor, though that's a bit different) who are still single. They both are constantly bombarded with this idea of "mates" and being on the outside of what that means.

I don't think it would be a reach at all to call her and Az friends.

It's not odd or confusing to me at all that she would have a crush on him; be attracted to him, want him to kiss her, or even to sleep with him. It seems completely natural.

I would argue that Az has been a gentleman towards her (and I will stand by the fact that internal frustrations are very different than actions, and that something expressed in confidence to your brother is nowhere near the same as acting out of turn), but I also wonder, too, if there's a part of her that makes her think she doesn't want a gentleman right now.

That while she's handled her trauma very differently than Nesta (thank the Cauldron), there's a part of her that's taken that robbing of life to heart and Graysen's whiny bitch comments/rejection to heart. That it's impacted her self-worth to make her think she is something "other" that's beyond saving or isn't worth the kind of fairytale love she always dreamed of for herself.

If I read into it perhaps a bit too much, I think Az is a little off when he assumes Elain doesn't know about the types of things he's done, whether that be atrocities or something more private. She might even see her involvement in killing Hybern to be some dark thing outside her nature she's having difficulty coming to terms with.

I'm not at all saying Az isn't a good guy who's deserving of love too, but I don't think what Elain's looking for with him in that extra chapter has much of anything to do with love. I think she wants a distraction with someone she thinks understands.

I think there's a chance, too, she's overwhelmed by Lucien being in the same house. Overwhelmed by that strong, involuntary pull she feels towards him and that she doesn't know what to make of him at all.

I will say it until I'm blue in the face, but I genuinely think the only barrier--the only real issue--that prevents her from warming to Lucien in the same or a similar way is that heavy, life-altering M-word that got slapped onto them both on arguably the worst day of her life.

He hasn't had the luxury of being around her as part of her family like Az has. Hasn't had the luxury of Elain seeing him fully through her own eyes without the "mate" label being forced into their lives. Yet it doesn't lessen the pull she has towards him, and that combined with everything she's experienced of mates thus far can't exactly be easy to process, especially after a brutal rejection, lost love, and lost future.

She isn't able right now to see the bond as a choice.

She doesn't even get the chance to evolve naturally into seeing it as a choice with the way her family hovers and breathes down her neck. How suddenly the most un-purity culture people in existence magically start caring a great deal about Elain's choices in that regard and insert themselves into chaperone roles like Elain and Lucien are two teenagers who can't control themselves at a junior high dance.

How confusing and contradictory that must be for Elain, who's been condescended and told by her sisters (namely Nesta) that the Fae don't live by human customs when it comes to sex or anything of the like. How the one time she did take that chance with someone she thought she loved it only got thrown back in her face by both Graysen and Nesta?

And what do we know about Lucien? He's devastatingly beautiful. Elegant yet rakish. An intelligent, educated, trained courtier and the son of a high lord. Even Feyre--a happily mated female--can't go five minutes in her internal monologues without noting how attractive and sexy he is even when he's doing absolutely nothing and minding his own business.

She knows he's Feyre's friend. She's heard some of the stories there. So she is aware, then, of at least some of the qualities her sister sees and admires in him despite their current rocky relationship.

Lucien is, in every way, being respectful of Elain's wishes and giving her space even though her rejection hurts him. He's still warring with the guilt of his own lost love in his mind and with a sense of unworthiness. He's been achingly thoughtful towards her; the epitome of a gentleman.

Elain would know that especially with that bond she doesn't fully understand, he's not someone she could simply have a pleasant distraction with. That he's someone who could see through her in every way she wants to hide and that she would never be able to hide in the mere idea that he simply doesn't press her (in the way Az doesn't press her).

Az feels safe right now and someone still attached to her comfort zone. He's a place she can continue to hide without fully facing her present and future and all Prythian is.

She can't hide her pain or suffering from Lucien in the same way. She can't quietly stare out the window into the sunlight without him knowing and feeling exactly what she needs.

She knows--senses--that she won't be able to separate the most vulnerable fragments of herself from her bond with Lucien. Again, a bond she didn't choose, and doesn't currently see that she still has a choice in.

So, she turns away from it in every way she knows how and looks for new ways to do so.

The way people treat Elain when it comes to her love life is so predictably (to her) unlike how Feyre and Nesta have been treated. Elain has always been different from them both, especially when it comes to love and sex. She's more modest and more reserved; has never been the type to fall into bed with some random man or Fae male. She's more guarded; a bit more protective of her own heart.

Maybe, to some extent, there's something she feels she needs to prove to herself. That she can fit within this more sexually liberated Fae world and that she's not some outsider in need of being treated with kid gloves.

Az, in that capacity, is definitely not someone who will. He's also not someone she can't keep her guard up with and can't keep her vulnerability from.

It would not surprise me either if there's a part of her that wants to deter Luicen (thinking back to Mor's tactic of deterring Azriel when she slept with Helion), but more strongly and importantly, to deter and distract herself from the bond. She doesn't want to allow herself to feel anything towards him.

The fact that she does feel a strong pull and, more likely than not, an overwhelming attraction of some kind makes me think it wasn't fully coincidence that she approached Az on Solstice when Lucien was in the same house.

I think she very much wanted to tie someone else to what she's feeling and try to get Lucien, the bond, and that dreaded M-word out of her mind.

Running the risk of sounding crude, Az could probably achieve that at least temporarily.

But it'd come right back. It's always been interesting to me that everyone seems to note that their bond is strong despite nothing having happened between them yet.

Until Elain acknowledges that bond and Lucien one way or another, that internal conflict she's clearly feeling is never going to change for her.

Two things can be true at once: we can fully acknowledge that neither Elain nor Lucien had a choice in the bond snapping between them, and that until they face it, neither one of them are going to have much choice in anything else at all. Not beyond a meaningless tangle in the sheets with someone else.

I think it would've been worse in the long run for Elain to learn that the hard way.

I also genuinely don't think Elain understands that there's nothing wrong with her for being different than her sisters or being different than the Fae norms. That there's nothing wrong with her for struggling to process this or for being overwhelmed.

She's still healing. She still has wounds she hasn't addressed. She's still hiding and seeking distractions while growing restless about wanting more from her life and being frustrated by her sisters' low expectations.

Feyre and Nesta love her, and it's not the protectiveness from love in itself that's wrong.

But they're suffocating her.

Lucien is, in every way, a person who never could. He's something so different and "other" than what she's used to both as a human and as a Fae while also being a bridge between those worlds. He can function in both. He can thrive in both.

He can see, perhaps too clearly, all sides of her whether she likes it or not.

I think she also very much senses he's the type she could fall in love with. The type she'll never be able to fully distract herself from if she lets herself fall or take that leap.

Her heart's still wounded, and she's not ready to risk opening that again right now.

That doesn't mean she won't be later on, and that doing so won't be incredibly worth it.

She will never find herself or open that chance up to herself, though, if she also keeps hiding in only the channels she knows. The barriers--intentional or otherwise--set around her by her sisters.

I do think that's inevitably going to be the difference between them, though: Elain and Lucien are going to face their reality and find healing together and in each other, and in the process, are going to end up falling in love. Real, true, soulful love.

Lucien's love is the kind that will leave her wondering why she ever thought she'd known what love is in the first place, and what they could find in each other is the kind of love they both deserve.

I cannot wait to see Elain facing her fears when she's fully free to do so. I can't wait to see her getting to know Lucien without the IC watching their every move and making her feel like a caged animal. I can't wait to see her find her strength, her love, and the fullest extent of her freedom.

That's not to say that Az would not have many wonderful qualities he could offer her too, but the person she's going to find more of herself than she every thought possible with is Lucien.

Az, in my humble opinion, is likely going to end up with someone else. An actual mate where he'll find his own healing alongside.

[elainsgirl]

"He hasn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured him to."

That has got to be one of the most misunderstood thing that has ever been written.

It's not that Azriel doesn't want a future, it's that he feels like he can't have it, thats why he doesn't see it! People are so stupid to see the real reason behind it and uses it as an argument just so they think their ship is better. Its ridiculous.

Its just another example of antis twisting canon/context to fit their narratives,

Rhys doesn’t ask Azriel about his future plans w Elain. He asks about Lucien specifically, “what about Lucien?” And to THAT he replied how he hadn’t gone that far with his planning. Which we know its true, Azriel has done nothing to Lucien or even affect elucien hence no plan to remove Lucien out of the equation has been made -> he hasn’t gone that far into actually doing anything. He’s just minding his business, staying away from Elain despite how down bad he is for her.

and here’s the thing, another example of antis x inconsistency-> They call Azriel entitled for questioning the cauldron yet criticise him for not planning an entite future with Elain…when that would literally be the definition of entitlement especially as he did not know for sure how she felt about him.

If elriel wanted to get together, the next step could be a bloodduel which Az was ready for. What else did they want him to say or do bcs im afraid anything else would’ve come across as arrogance & again, entitlement. Could you imagine the riot that he would have caused if he had said, “yes I’ve planned an entire future with Elain. She will obviously break the bond for me, we will have x many children and live in this place and she’ll do that and I’ll do this” THAT is what you call toxic and controlling especially as there is no imput from Elain.

The thing is - I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, antis hold elriel to a higher standard then every other ship bcs they hate the idea of two consenting, interested individuals getting together. Idk what they expected. A love confession!? A proposal!? Az to march up & wake Lucien and demand a blood duel? Their expectations are lowkey ridiculous whichever way you look at it.

And yh. This man did not know the full extent of elains feelings for him. He did not know if his feelings were returned or one sided, the man whose crush chose his brother over him with 0 explanation, the man who still hides his scars - is not going to think he is worthy of someone he is interested in. Azriel would feel the same about any Love interest. Mor, Elain, Eris or Gwyn - his insecurities and low self worth would remain. Difference is? Elain chose him over her mate. Showed him how much she wanted him. Took his scarred hands without hesitation. Never showed fear at him or his shadows.

Gwynriels in their HCs have this same dynamic. Az has a moment where he feels unworthy and Gwyn makes him feel better. Guess what? That WILL happen with elriel, it already has as I pointed out above. Its also a common trope/issue within romance books so idk why antis are acting as though its something so bad. They’re always yapping about how much they’ve read romance books yet can’t recognise this simple, common trope?

Thing is - when your ship is so undeveloped that it has no issues, yh it’ll be perfect. But thats now how romance is written, especially not how Mass writes her romances. Every single couple has issues, insecurities and fears they overcome. That’s what makes them special. Unique. Complex.

[pendwelling]

okay i really need spoiler for this

When will jess stop shiping Ogmc and ml?

And will ml tell him about his though? It's just bothering me for a while now im at ch140 and nothing seems like improving between mc and ml

(Not cris making fun of cedie its so funny but now i can't take it anymore😭)

I'm not sure if this is the answer you're looking for, because to answer it would mean to first and foremost analyze the character of Jung Yeseo haha. TWSB, unexpectedly, is so much more if you look past the veneer of silliness and comedy, and it intentionally does that at the beginning of the story to lure you into a false kinda sense of security, but also because of how Yeseo, as a character, influences the narrative voice and atmosphere of the story.

I'd like to first of all point out that a large part of why Jung Yeseo is so fixated on Christelle and Cédric's relationship stems primarily because of his sister and the original novel. Subconsciously, as well as very consciously yet deeply buried within him in a sort of self-preservation tactic, Yeseo is very aware of the fact that his life has been transported into a novel. While he doesn't display it in every chapter, he is also HEAVILY plagued with homesickness and a yearning to return back to his siblings. In his mind, the universe being a Rofan means that the World naturally revolves around Christelle and Cédric, and thus they're blossoming "romance". The story cannot be completed if they do not get together—and them getting together is also important, because above all else, this is JUNG EUNSEO's favourite story, and a part of Yeseo knows this very well, and his sister's beloved story isn't exactly something that he should meddle with. The characters' happiness is in a way tied to his sister's happiness (and there's kinda a lot to be said about this but anyhow I'll move on—)

In the initial parts of the story, Yeseo still has to fully come to terms either the fact that he's not /just/ in a novel, anymore. It is his current reality. But at the same time, it is blazingly obvious to him that there are also subtle outside forces that keep bringing him and the other protagonists together, so he resigns himself to the pull of "fate" and the "narrative", justifying it as such bc, well, he's in a novel.

Gradually, however, Yeseo DOES, in fact, get to know these "characters" better, and thus, sees them as their own people, separate from the fictional archetypes that he's only heard a bit about from his sister—whose words are rule, since they were literally the only point of reference for Yeseo who has never read a single word of QPB. As Yeseo grows closer with both Cédric and Christelle, he grows to learn more about them, and their personalities, and their traumas, worries, dreams, ambitions.....

"Cédric Riester" and "Christelle de Sarnez" no longer remain as "characters" to him, but real-life people whom he loves, cares, and worries about. Through all their struggles, trials, an adventures, they grow an indescribable bond that brings them closer than ever. Yeseo cares about them, worries about their future, and above all else, wishes for their HAPPINESS. The happiness is a big thing here, because Yeseo, also, is distantly aware of the constantly overhanging fruit that is:

HE DOES NOT BELONG THERE.

No matter how close he becomes with the people of QPB, there is nothing that could ever change the fact that at the end of the day, his ultimate goal has always been "return home to my family". Even when he loves his friends dearly, he will always and forever want to be with his siblings, and a big part of the story is Jung Yeseo coming to terms with his love for his siblings is both his driving force AS WELL AS the very thing holding him back.

In a way, you can interpret Yeseo constantly hoping for Christelle and Cédric to get together as his way of reassuring himself that, when he leaves them, they would at the very least have each other to rely on. Throughout the story, Yeseo expresses several times concern over Cédric and his future, hoping whenever he can that when Cédric ascends as Emperor of Riester (presumably, once Yeseo leaves to go back to his family), Cédric would have an entourage of people who genuinely care for and support him, even if Yeseo is not there. He does this with looking at the people around them and wondering how they might fit into Cédric's support net. Élisabeth as his bestfriend and future head of the Imperial Guard; Johann as a Cardinal Holy Knight and his teacher. Jibril Diop as a combat mage and a surprising fit for a future Prime Minister, etc etc. And naturally, Christelle as his Political Companion, and hopefully, just a close partner in general, whether it be romantic or not at all. Christelle and Cédric are most often his targets of "shipping" because they are just, plain and simple, his closest companions in that world who he worries about the absolute most, and who just so happened to have been a couple in another world. To Yeseo, that's enough of a reassurance that they will support each other, be there for each other, open up and be their rock and hill—even long after he is gone.

Of course, thankfully, this dilemma of "belonging and not belonging" and choosing one family over the other gets resolved masterfully by the author, so in the end, these worries of Yeseo are finalized in a way that makes you feel content with the outcome of everything. Both he and the readers no longer worry about leaving anyone behind. They managed to fight against the forces of the narrative and stay together. In the end, that's all that matters—Yeseo reunited with his siblings. Yeseo, Cédric, and Christelle get to stay together. It doesn't truly matter in what way, only that it was POSSIBLE, and that they fought tooth and nail for it to BE possible.

So yeah, haha, Yeseo will continue having these small delusions of them getting together (defence and coping mechanisms disguised as recurring gags), but he does come to realize that his friends are MORE than just their original character settings. But it doesn't stop him from hoping that they all genuinely find happiness—and he also realizes, eventually, that both Cédric and Christelle's happiness involves him, too.

Please do not worry. The character and relationship development in TWSB is truly masterfully written. I understand that it might appear slow to some readers, but in the end, when you reach that final chapter of the main story and look back at where it all started, you truly realize just how far all of these characters have come and how they've changed. TWSB is the kind of story that you cannot just take at face value, even if it initially presents itself as a simple, comedic, feel-good healing novel. It's so much more than that, and the first 100 chapters are really only dipping your toes into what it has to offer. Things start picking up when it gets to the real core of the story, but it must first go through the foreshadowing foundations disguised as silly inconspicuous things.

But anyhow, I hope this made sense haha... Jung Yeseo's shipping gag is truthfully more than just a gag when you analyze it closely in according to his goals and anxieties. I hope this was able to soothe some of your worries in any way!

[pompettepink]

Type of men NOT to date

Dating in the 2020's is so rough! It feels like so many people are just looking for hookups and too many women are getting forced into "situationships" in the hopes that "more" will come out of it, but "more" never happens. Ladies, save yourselves the heartache and leave these type of low level men ALONE

A man who asks "what you bring to the table"

He is thinking transactionally. He wants to know beforehand what act of service he can expect from you in the future. Whatever comes out of your mouth will be his checklist in the relationship and he WILL bring it up when you "fail to meet expectations".

A man who disrupts your peace

A man who is prone to fits of rage and refuses to seek help will take you down with him. He will actively work to destroy your self worth and possessions. Any man coming into your life MUST be giving you peace that is BETTER than the peace you find within yourself.

A man with low quality friends

There's a very high chance that if a man is in his mid to late 20s and is still friends with his highschool buddies they are actively holding him back. There needs to be far more substance in a male friendship than bonding over a band one time in a 10th grade science class. Having old time friends is amazing, but everyone in the friend group should be maturing at the same pace and having adult conversations and not just sharing their girlfriends nudes with the homies in the groupchat

A man who listens to Bro Podcasters

Self explanatory. There should be NO reason that a man sees value in anything a violent misogynist has to say. It is NOT NORMAL for a man to take lifestyle advice from broken men who are NOT living the lifestyle they're advocating for (monogamous long term relationship with the intention of marriage and providing for their wife and kids). Unless he is compiling information to loudly denounce those views and see those podcasters as an enemy of men, you have no business dating someone like that

A man who idolizes 50/50 relationships

Expecting your partner to go 50/50 with everything and anything is insecure and immature. In reality you can't ALWAYS split the bills. Sometimes things come up. Like card only payments, cash only payments, misplaced wallet, dead phone, payment deadline, accidents etc etc. If he expects every instance involving money to be split into two equal bills he WILL be resentful towards you if you fail to deliver. He should also be more than happy to spoil you when he can and pay in full

A man who struggles building relationships with women

You aren't going to be any different just because he's fucking you. And this isn't about a struggle that results from trauma (abusive mom). This is about ANY woman in his life. If he can't connect with his sisters and can't "really" explain "why", or if he's never had a female friend, that's a red flag. It's most likely that he can't build relationships with women who he isn't sexually attracted to, making him more likely to misconstrued any interaction with a pretty woman as grounds to cheat

An unkempt man

He doesn't need to be the world's best dresser, but he MUST care about his appearance. You two will be seen together constantly and in social settings others will view you as a single unit. You are doing a disservice to yourself by being with a man who has a hands-off attitude with the way he presents himself and always choices to go out with wrinkled stained clothes, dirty hair, a smelly outfit, and a wardrobe full of holes and filth

A man who moves too fast

Why is this man trying to get you into bed yet he doesn't even know your last name? Casual flings are totally fine and super appropriate for any adult to be a part of. But if you're looking to seriously date you HAVE to be picky. Even if your connection is magnetic off the bat restraint should be shown until the commitment is there. If you tell him you only want to have sex with a committed man and he gets mad, pressures you, or asks you to be official on the spot and then have sex afterwards, he just wants to orgasm, nothing more

A man who's all talk and no action

If a man talks about how close he feels to you, but doesn't try to commit, he's keeping you away from love. If a man romantically messages you everyday, but doesn't take you on a date, he's a pen pal. If he's always talking about going for a big promotion, but doesn't put in the work the position requires, he's just a job holder. Actions speak louder than words and if he wanted to, he would

A man who struggles with handling you

Far too many men couple up with talented, sexy, smart, extrovert women, then try to change them when they become official because they can't keep up with her. If she was a sexy dresser BEFORE you started dating, you should expect the same WHILE you're dating. If she was always having deeply intellectual conversations BEFORE you started dating, you should expect the same WHILE you're dating. If she had a large group of friends that she loved hanging out with BEFORE you started dating, you should expect the same WHILE you're dating. If he can't keep up with you then he shouldn't take up space in your circle

A man who is incompetent with chores

Need I say more? Chores aren't rocket science. If he can't cook a meal from start to finish you'll be forced to be his personal chef. If he can't do a load of laundry you'll be forced to be his laundromat. If he doesn't know how to sweep, mop, or vacuum you'll be forced to be his maid. Never choose to be a servant when well rounded men exist in the dating pool

A man who doesn't boast about you

He should be proud to have you as his partner. Everyone in his life should know that you two are dating. He should want to walk behind you and open doors for you so that everyone can see you before they see him. He should always want to hold your hand and feel disgusted when other people hit on him. If he says he "lives a private life" and doesn't want to post you on his social media or be seen kissing you in public it's because he doesn't want his wife and other girlfriend to catch him cheating

Never let anyone convince you that it's impossible to find a man of quality because "your standards are too high". You're the prize and for your sake you should never expect the bare minimum for love