#Black and white snake wall art

[seakher]

[starzradio]

BODY PAINT

the plan was just to get a tattoo for your birthday. so far so good. but how’d you end up getting eaten out too?

FEATURING: tattoo artist! geto suguru x female reader

CONTENTS: non canon compliant/au, pierced/tattooed geto, cunnilingus, hair pulling (m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, doggy, pet names (pretty girl, cutie, etc.), finger sucking, spanking (once), creampie, kinda maybe perchance public sex(?)

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: anotha repost so if you’ve seen this b4, no you haven’t 😓

Portraits and portraits of art pieces covering the walls welcomed you as you stepped inside, the jingle of the bell perched on the front announcing your entrance. From dragons to variations of skulls—some with roses, lightning, and a couple of the grim reaper. You could easily lose yourself looking at all the different works, staring at how all the different lines came together and how the colors melded into one another.

“What're you looking for today?" A low baritone voice interrupted your brief exploration of the parlor. You turned to see a man standing at the counter with pigtails, a black line going across his nose and a couple piercings scattered across his pale face. How was it that you'd missed him upon walking inside?

"I was thinking about getting a tattoo, do you guys happen to accept walk-ins?" You responded, coming up to the counter where the man was standing. Choso, from what his name tag read. "We do, our current tattoo artist's busy though. You mind waiting about.. twenty minutes?"

You supposed it wasn't too bad after showing up without an appointment so you just simply nodded, going over to take a seat in the lobby. There was only one other person sitting on the end of the black sofa, their attention purely on the show playing on the TV mounted on the wall. You went from playing with your fingers to looking over at the TV, attempting to do anything that would make these twenty minutes pass by.

"Hey, go ahead and fill this out. And let me see your ID," Choso came back with a sheet of paper, a consent form. You fished for your ID in the back pocket of your jeans before handing it over to him, starting out with the task of filling out the paper. Signing your initials where it asked you to, reading through the different medical conditions that the paper explicitly listed out.

Your foot bounced against the floor as you waited, sudden nerves starting to hit you all at once now that you were in here. You knew that you wanted a tattoo, you'd been looking forward towards getting it for a few months now. But the little nagging voice inside your head told you that you could barely tolerate a needle at the doctor's office, and that was only for a couple seconds in of itself. How would you tolerate almost an hour of it?

A woman walked out from the back of the parlor, a tattoo of what seemed to be her birth year wrapped up in cling wrap. But your attention was quickly diverted to the man coming out after her—though, you supposed it would be hard not to stare at him. He was absolutely.. gorgeous. Long dark black hair that practically seemed to shine underneath the harsh lights tied back in a half bun, eyebrow and snake bites piercings accentuating the features of his face, and dark ink adorning his forearms.

"Here's the aftercare sheet, just shoot me a text or something if you have any concerns or anything," the man told the woman before she stepped away from the counter, handing her a white paper. The jingle of the bell echoed behind her as she left, leaving only the four of you alone in the lobby. Maybe this wasn't who Choso was talking about? You couldn't picture yourself or your panties for that matter lasting hours in a room with him.

Though, you probably should've expected as much with your luck.

"You got time for a walk-in?" Choso spoke up, nudging his head towards you when the other man was finished pocketing his tip. The man glanced over at you before pulling his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through it for a couple seconds. "Yeah, I got time," the other man walked over, standing in front of you before extending a hand out, "Geto Suguru." The coldness from the silver rings adorning each of his fingers was a stark difference from how warm his hand seemed to be. You gave him your name, stopping the handshake before it prolonged more than it should've.

More than it already did.

"So, what type of tattoo were you looking for?" Geto pushed his hands in his pockets, standing back to allow for you to get up from the spot. "I'm not too sure how to describe it, but I have a reference photo, if that's okay?" You told him, getting your phone out to go back to your camera roll. "Yeah, that's fine. Just airdrop to me when you find it."

The smell of antibacterial spray filled your nose as you stepped in, the room somehow been more decorated than the one outside. Geto had a couple of his designs up on the wall along with a couple band posters—Nirvana, Iron Maiden, and Led Zeppelin being some of the more prominent ones. A couple figures placed on a shelf, photos decorating them as well.  "Go on and take a seat. I'll be right there," he told you, opening up one of his drawers.

You took a seat on the leather chair in the middle of the chair, leaning against it before looking over to see what he was doing. "So.. how bad is it supposed to hurt?" You decided to ask, bracing yourself for the worst answer that he could give you. Despite the fact that you knew arm tattoos weren't all that painful from the two hours of research you'd done. "I can't give you a straightforward answer since not everyone has the same pain tolerance. But I'll walk you through the process before I start."

"The first thing I'm gonna do is shave your arm," Geto started off, opening up a pack of razors in front of you. Almost like he wanted to reassure you that everything he was using was new. "Around what area do you want the tattoo?" You opened your arm, gesturing around your inner forearm. Geto shaved the hair around the middle, wiping the residue away with a tissue.

"Next thing I'm gonna do is rub some alcohol on there and put on this cream," he brought up a small container into your line of vision, "It's not numbing cream before you get any ideas. Just so the stencil sticks." The rest of the process had gone relatively fast, the smell of rubbing alcohol filling up the space between the two of you. Geto placed the stencil on your arm, looking over at you to gauge your reaction. "Is this placement okay or do you want me to change it? Don't hesitate to ask, since y'know.. it is kinda permanent."

After a couple minutes of deliberation, Suguru placed the stencil where you’d decided. "So I'm gonna go ahead and put the needle on your arm just to go ahead and see if you can tolerate it," the machine whirred to life with the press of a button, "If you don't think you can tolerate it, just let me know and I'll wipe off the stencil." Geto turned around to face you, the buzzing of the tattoo gun getting louder the closer it got to your arm. All the nerves that you'd felt earlier seemed so silly now. While you felt the pressure of the needle , it was nothing like the excruciating pain you'd heard others have.

You cleared your throat before looking back over at him again, "Yeah, I can handle it." Suguru simply nodded, uncapping the bottle of black ink before almost filling up the small container in front of him. He arranged the small containers almost perfectly aligned to each other, the small work space that he'd set in front of him looking meticulous. Even the napkin that he'd grabbed was neatly folded up in three squares.

You'd almost wished that it was Choso doing the tattoo instead. Because, this, well this simply just wasn't fair. It wasn't fair how he managed to look so goddamn pretty just doing the most menial of tasks. The almost intoxicating scent of amber from his cologne filling up your senses with how close he was. You weren't sure if was better or worse for you that he didn't notice just how affected you were, of how much his presence alone was making you want to ditch the whole idea of getting a tattoo.

"You need something to help you relax? I got a couple stress balls hanging around or I could play something on the TV if you want," Suguru sat down on the rolling chair next to you, already grabbing the TV remote next to you. "Can you just play something, please?" Geto flickered through a couple of the channels available, settling on what was on the TV mounted outside. Not particularly your first choice, but enough to get your mind off the tattoo, at least.

And to get your mind off the very attractive man next to you trying to do his job.

"So, any meaning behind this tattoo or you just decided you wanted to get it?" Suguru broke the silence, though his focus was purely on tracing the piece of work in front of him. "Just saw it on Pinterest and I related to it a bit. Well, that and the design itself seemed pretty to me," you offered, staying still and keeping your attention on the TV. "I can follow the design that you showed me or I could try to improve on it. That is, if you have trust in my abilities," he spoke up after a couple seconds, purple eyes almost seeming to bore into you. 

"Can I see some of your abilities in place?" As hot as the man was—you didn't want to risk the tattoo coming out like complete dog shit. Suguru let out a short laugh, getting up from his spot before flipping through a couple drawers. He came back with a leather bound sketchbook, placing it on your lap. "I'm not much to show my works to others, but feel free to flip around if that helps you decide," you opened up the sketchbook with your available arm, immediately being greeted with a plethora of colors.

Not only were the pieces themselves better than what you could've expected, but they were so realistic. The shading of each drawing accentuating it perfectly against the lighting of the room, almost like he'd focused on that more than the actual drawing. You shut the sketchbook after flipping through a couple pages of different flowers, animals, and whatever else his brain could conjure up—handing it back to an expectant Geto. "It'd be wrong not to have faith in you after seeing that," you mused, watching him set the sketchbook aside before he went back to tracing.

"Don't worry, I'm still gonna follow the whole outline and shit. Just wanna make it look a little bit better is all," he responded, dipping the needle onto the container of black ink before bringing it back to your arm. You turned to look at much progress he'd done after the forty minute episode had ended only to realize he was just finishing up with the tip of the design. An incredibly detailed tip, though. "You okay? Don't want you passing out on me or anything."

"No, I'm fine," you reassured, going back to watching the TV in the comfortable silence that had built in the room. The only sounds emanating from the room were the soft whirring of the tattoo gun and the screaming of a couple characters on screen. "Have you watched this before?" You decided to break the silence after a while, turning to look over at him. "Something like that. Haven't watched much after the fourth season. Don't really have a buncha time available to watch TV."

The rest of the session had gone moderately well, the two of you sitting in silence for a majority of the time albeit for a couple questions that either he or you asked. He was, oddly enough, easy to talk to. "Okay, I'm gonna go in with a white paint. It's gonna hurt more than the other one so just tell me if it gets to be too much," he told you, pouring white paint into one of those small containers. And you felt the difference between the two, looking over to see him adding small marks with the white paint. Small marks that were starting to hurt like a motherfucker.

"Easy, you did so well for me throughout the session. This is nothing compared to that," Suguru spoke up, raising the tattoo gun to give you a small break. One of his gloved hands went to the furrow settled in your brow, gently easing it over before changing out the gloves for a fresh pair. You weren't even sure when you'd even started to grimace so badly. "Easy for you to say," you grumbled underneath your breath, certain that he wouldn't have caught it. But if the way his eyes shot up to look at you with a slightly amused smile was anything to go by, he did.

"You make it so hard to be nice to you," Geto muttered, turning the tattoo gun back on and going back to adding the fine white strokes. Maybe it'd been the fact that he'd offered that small bit of reassurance or maybe it was the fact that you could feel the session was starting to come to an end, but the pain didn't quite feel as bad as the first go. "Alright, we're all done," he spoke up after a couple minutes, turning the tattoo gun off and placing it on the table next to him.

"You mind if I get a couple pictures?" He waited for you to nod before setting up the ring light next to you, pulling his phone out. You extended your arm out to where he had the camera pointed, the tattoo on display. "Mm, hold on," Suguru muttered to himself, one of his hands wrapping around your wrist to adjust the angle. His touch almost seeming to linger more than necessary. Surely, all of this wasn't necessary just for a single photo, right? Especially when you weren't even the subject of said photo.

"You're gonna want to avoid shaving or waxing the area while it's still healing, some peeling's normal but just come to me if you have any concerns," he continued to explain the process of the aftercare involved, wrapping the tattoo up in cling wrap. "Try not to fuck it up," Geto led you over to the front desk, ringing you up for the price. "Wasn't it $120 and not $100?" You questioned, grabbing your wallet from your pocket.

"Consider it a birthday discount of sorts, pretty girl," the nickname spilled out so easily that you might've almost missed it. As if you needed more things to overthink about from this encounter. You handed him a hundred dollar bill with a ten dollar tip, giving him a short thanks before leaving the parlor. You looked over at the aftercare sheet that he'd given you at the counter, seeing his Instagram scrawled out in pretty decent penmanship. Well, at least you had plans for when you got back to your apartment tonight.

You knew that the tattoo was healing nicely—that you'd put the expensive ass ointment that Geto had recommended the designated three times a day. So why exactly did you find yourself standing outside the tattoo parlor once more? Out of concern for the new ink or just wanting to see Suguru once more? It couldn't be the latter, right? Not like you'd spent hours scrolling through his Instagram these last couple days to see what he'd thought about the tattoo. Definitely not the latter.

After all, he did say come to him if you had any concerns.

Surprisingly, it wasn't Choso to greet you at the counter this time around. Suguru was standing there, rearranging a couple pieces of body jewelry onto the glass display before he lifted his head to see who'd walked in the door. "You didn't let it get infected, did you? I spent hours on that thing," he didn't even bother with a greeting as Choso had done, already looking annoyed at the prospect. "Your concern for my health's endearing too."

"Yeah, yeah, what're you here for?"

"I just wanted to check up with you to see if the tattoo was healing nicely," the practiced lie slipped out of your tongue without any effort, plenty of rehearsals in your head allowing for it to slip out with any second thought.

"Alright, I have a couple minutes before my next appointment gets here," Suguru gestured for you to join him, opening the door for you. The space looked pretty much the same as the day you'd come in—which you should've expected, since it was only a week ago—albeit for a couple pencils scattered on top of a sketchbook in the middle of his desk. You took a seat on the leather chair, waiting for him to finish cleaning up his space.

Suguru grabbed a white box of gloves, grabbing a pair before placing them on. "So, what're you concerned about?" He questioned, long fingers running through your skin as he looked at how the tattoo was healing. "Well, it's been peeling a bit. I just wanted to know if that was normal or if I'm fucking something up somehow. I've been putting on the ointment you recommended three times a day."

Geto let out a small hum before leaning back on the rolling chair, folding his arms across his chest. His very muscular arms, the material of his black button down practically straining against them with the motion. "Your tattoo seems to healing well. Bit of peeling's normal as a new layer of skin comes in, nothing to worry about too much. Usually the area starts to get red if it's starting to get infected."

And maybe you should've taken that as a cue to leave. But you found yourself wanting to bask in whatever couple seconds that he would give you, unable to think about any other opportunities where you'd see him. Well, any other opportunities that didn't involve you spending upwards of a hundred dollars. You made no effort to move just yet, folding your hands over your lap. Trying to think of anything else to prolong this visit.

A couple moments of silence pass between the two of you before Suguru opens his mouth up to speak, only to get interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. "Yo, someone named Larue's here for their appointment," Choso called out from the other side, his foot tapping against the hardwood floor. Suguru gives you a glance before answering back, "Ask him to reschedule. Tell him that I'm sorry and I'll give him a discount or something."

Choso's heavy boots echoed against the floor as he walked away, leaving you alone with Geto once more. "So, tell me, what exactly is it that you're doing here again? And don't lie to me, talking about some 'I wanna see if my tattoo's healing properly,'" And you almost rolled your eyes at the way he raised his voice in pitch, mocking you with a short chuckle. Almost.

"First of all, I don't sound like that. Second, I really did just come to see if it was healing properly," And despite your words, you couldn't bring yourself to move from the chair just yet. "So maybe I should go tell Larue to come back for his appointment. Since we determined your tattoo's healing nicely, our time's done," You would've thought that he was bluffing but he moved to get up from his chair, walking over to the door.

"Wait," you called out before he managed to turn the doorknob, looking over to see him already staring at you with an expectant look on his face. Like he was about five seconds away from telling you to get off the leather chair. "So maybe, there's a slight chance that I didn't just come here just because I was concerned about my tattoo," you muttered almost reluctantly, avoiding looking at him directly.

"And why don't you try telling me why you came here instead?" Suguru stepped away from the door, returning to his spot in the seat next to you. Where you couldn't avoid looking at him even if you wanted to. How would you even begin telling him that he's been clouding your mind since last week just from that three hour interaction? That you've refreshed his Instagram page more times than you could count to see what he'd say about the piece?

You gulped, willing for the words to come out before he got the chance to go back to the door again. But you couldn't. Couldn't bring yourself to the potential humiliation that would inevitably come if you had just been delusional about this all along.

"You here because you want me to fuck you?" And the words that you'd struggled to spit out, he'd just said them so bluntly. You were expecting for him to look at you with that same mocking smile from earlier, but he seemed to be genuinely analyzing you. Waiting. "No, no, of course, I was just here to.." You hadn't quite rehearsed for this part in your mind.

"Because if you were, then I'd say that I was thinking about you too, cutie," and before you had the chance to respond, he was already speaking again, "So I'm just gonna ask you again. Are you here because you want me to fuck you?"

Now that there was little chance of your advances getting rejected, the word slipped out so easily, "Yes."

"Go on and lay back for me. Wanna taste you," and by how quick he was to get on his knees in front of you, you'd guess that he was doing this for his pleasure more than yours. "Lift up your hips," you followed his words without hesitation, letting him slide your jeans off and place them to the side. Large tattooed hands spread your thighs apart, presenting you like a feast to the man before you.

And you would've felt some ounce of embarrassment for the wet spot that quickly built up in the middle of your panties in just the five minutes of being here—if it weren't for the fact that Geto's cock was already straining against the material of his jeans. "Mph, fuck!" Geto quickly pulled your attention back to the issue at hand, his tongue prodding against your clothed cunt. "Not so loud, you don't want Choso to hear us," he clicked his tongue, giving you somewhat of a relief when he pulled away.

A very short lived relief. His tongue traced the outline of your slick folds through the material of your thin panties, his eyes closed. The tip of his tongue swirled against your clit, your cunt leaking out onto your underwear. You'd be lucky at this rate, if you could wear them back home. And almost like he'd read your mind, his fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties before sliding them down to your ankles.

You waited to feel his tongue on your cunt again—but nothing came. You looked over at him, watching as he just observed your weeping pussy. "Thought you were eager to taste," you muttered, a scoff leaving from his lips. A gust of wind blowing to your cunt, your walls clenching all the much more. Eager to receive whatever he could give. "Let me admire for a bit. We got enough time," Suguru let out a small tsk after, his face in front of your cunt. And before you had the chance to say anything more—his tongue was already on your labia.

Your syrupy slick dripped onto his expecting tongue, his eyes almost rolling back at the taste. The small silver ball at the end of his tongue piercing flicked against your folds with every lick, each touch serving to have you clenching around pure air. Your hips bucked up to meet his movements, his large hands holding you down in mere seconds. "What'd I say? Let me enjoy this, pretty girl. Told you we got enough time."

"Such a tease," your grumbled words came out more breathless than you would've liked. "And you're so impatient," he retorted without missing a beat. A hushed whine escaped from your lips when you felt him pull away, his mouth moving to your inner thighs. Pressing open mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin, nibbling down just hard enough for it to leave a mark behind. "Promise I'll take care of you, sweet girl. Have some trust in my abilities."

“You say that but your abilities have been less than stellar lately."

A couple dark locks fell out of place, framing his face almost perfectly. You'd almost expected Suguru to look offended at the implication of your words—but all he did was seem to find some kind of amusement. "Guess I'll have to repair that then," he murmured, more so to your cunt than to you, his tongue prodding in and out of your entrance. "You're not doing a g-Oh fuck!" He immediately made you swallow whatever retort you were planning, his tongue penetrating inside of you. 

Suguru swiped his tongue up and down your cunt, the lower half of his face covered in a mixture of your slick and his own spit. Your eyes fluttered shut, the tip of his nose prodding against your clit with every swipe that he made. "Keep looking at me, pretty. Keep those pretty eyes on me," you opened your eyes to see purple eyes already looking back at you, resuming his actions all too greedily. He was so messy when it came to eating you out—spitting into your cunt, watching almost all too eagerly as you clenched around the liquid.

"Please," a whine left your lips, your fingers tugging on his hair. Whatever act of defiance you'd tried to put on earlier had quickly faded away, all you were feeling was need. An almost slutty moan left his lips at the sudden tug, one of his hands grabbing on to yours. "Come on, you can pull harder, can't you?" An even louder groan escaped his lips at the harder tug you gave this time around—the tips of your fingers digging into his scalp. "Now, what were you saying please for?" His words came out muffled, his face buried in between your legs. "Your fingers, please."

"Since you asked so nicely," Suguru took to that almost immediately, two long fingers pushing past the ring of muscle before curling to hit your g-spot. His mouth instantly attached itself to your throbbing clit, pushing through your clitoral hood to get to the bundle of nerves. "F-Fuck, don't stop, don't stop," you sounded like a broken record, your thighs pressing tightly against the sides of his face while his tongue swirled around your clit.

"Gonna cum, gonna cum," any other thought that you had apart from cumming had been quickly fucked out of you, your grip on his hair tightening even further. Not that Suguru minded by any means, moaning against your cunt with every tug. The vibrations only added to the dual stimulation, your back arching off the chair. Needing to get more. Pushing your hips against his face, bucking up to meet every swipe of his tongue. "Cum for me, princess, come on. You can do it, right?"

All you could do was nod, not wanting to be any louder than you already had been. Part of you had been surprised that Choso hadn't come by knocking earlier. Suguru continued flicking his tongue around your clit, working in synchrony with his fingers to pull your orgasm out of you. "Fuck fuck, gonna cum!" You weren't sure if your muffled moan made it's way into Suguru's ears, watching as he eagerly lapped up your release. Running his tongue across his lips, your slick making them glisten under the lights.

"Get on all fours," Suguru told you after you'd managed to regain your breath, deft fingers working to unzip his jeans. You got on your stomach, resting it against the cold leather while getting on your hands and knees. And if Choso were to come into the room to be quiet now, he'd get a spectacular view of your ass perched up in the air. Suguru ran his cock against your folds, your slick lubricating it with ease after your previous orgasm.

Ridges running down his shaft brushed up against your tight walls, your slick coating his tip like second nature the further that he pushed it in. Your walls clenched and unclenched rapidly in a futile attempt to get used to the pure stretch of his cock. "You can take it, right? This isn't anything," But the sheer girth of his cock was just enough to dispute that statement, the position making him feel much deeper than he was. "Yeah, yeah, I can take it," your voice came out as a mewl, your grip on the leather getting tighter the more he pushed his cock in.

The rhythm that he started up was fairly slow at first, allowing you to get used to the feeling. Whatever he was lacking in length, he certainly compensated for it with the sheer size of his girth. Just a couple inches inside of you and he'd already stuffed you full. "Doin' so good, gonna speed up, okay?" He waited for you to nod, retracting his cock before pushing the full length inside of you with one sharp thrust. Your mouth went agape, your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head upon the impact. "So good, so so good," even after a couple thrusts, he already sounded so obsessed.

"That's ittt, that's my girl. Fuck that ass back into me," A strangled groan left his throat at the sight of your ass cheeks jiggling underneath him with every thrust, the two of you moving in tandem. One of the hands that'd been on your waist went to cup whatever he could of the flesh, all too entranced with the vision presented in front of him. "Mm, fuck!" A moan left your lips as you felt the palm of his hand strike against the flesh, your ass stinging from the impact. Not to say that you necessarily hated it, by any means.

And Suguru caught it—the way your slick ran down his shaft at the sudden impact. "Should've fucking guessed you would've liked it," his tone practically dripped in condescension as he spoke, his hand going to cup your other ass cheek. Holding the flesh in his hands before giving you another harsh slap, almost rivaling the harsh smack of his hips against your own. "Shit shit, Geto, don't stop," you whined, pushing your ass back into him. "Think it's okay for you to call me Suguru after bein’ inside you and all."

"Suck," a simple command, two of his fingers in front of your face. Your tongue swirled around his fingers, tasting the remnants of your cum on them before letting it fall flat. Simply sucking on his fingers as his cock pushed in and out of you with such fervor. "Get 'em all nice and wet for me, just like that," Suguru pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth the second you started to get too loud again, tears building up at your waterline when you gagged on them. "Aw, don't cry, cutie. Y'know I had to."

And while his words were meant to be reassuring, the mocking tone of his voice was anything but. Spit dribbled down from the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the chair beneath you. "Sugu-Sugu, fuck, right there!" He'd adjusted the angle of his hips, his shaft brushing up against your g-spot with every thrust. "So. Fucking. Tight," each of his words was accentuated with a deep thrust of his hips, filling you up impossibly so. Like he wanted to show you just how much he'd been thinking about it, like he claimed he did.

If the moans coming out of you weren't evidence enough as to what was happening in the room, then you were pretty much certain that the plap! plap! echoing through the walls was evidence enough. Geto's heavy balls smacked against your ass with every harsh thrust of his hips. He brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing at the nub just in time for it to match his pace. You clamped around his cock like a vice, a strangled moan leaving out of his lips. "Just had to tell- shit me that you wanted my cum, ma."

"Mph, cumm- I'm cumm-" Muffled babbles left your mouth, your cunt clenching around him yet again. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, his thrusts getting sloppier and faster. Whatever small bits of concern about being too loud had been disregarded—loud squelches and skin clapping filling up the room as Suguru rutted inside of you. You turned your head to look over at him, the sight before you almost like something out of a painting. His hair had completely been released from the half-bun, cascading down his back perfectly and his eyes were closed in pure bliss.

Spurts and spurts of cum shot deep inside of you, his cock twitching as you milked him for whatever he could offer. Suguru pulled his softening cock out of your cunt, his cum starting to dribble out of you and down your thighs. With the same fingers he'd had inside your mouth, he pushed his cum back inside of you. Scooping the substance up with relative ease. Your body slumped against the chair, willing that Geto would give you a couple seconds to catch your breath.

You'd expected him to grab a wipe or a paper towel to clean you up with, but he simply got up from his spot behind you. Grabbing his pants off the floor and fastening up his fly. You looked over at him through half lidded eyes, seeing him pop the fingers that had previously been in your cunt into his mouth. Slurping at them in a similar fashion that you'd done just a couple minutes prior. "Wanna taste yourself, pretty girl? 'S so fucking good."

Geto didn't give you a chance to respond before he was leaning down to your level, one of his fingers underneath your chin to raise your head. He leaned in, his lips pressing against yours in a messy exchange. More of spit getting intertwined than an actual kiss, not that you minded in your state. His tongue flicked against yours, the bittersweet taste of both you and him combined filling your tastebuds. Geto pulled away after a couple seconds, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

You hadn't even finished putting on your pants yet when Suguru spoke up yet again,

"You mind giving me a five star review when you get home?"

[mossy-chaos]

These are all of the codes I could find in the Book of Bill!

The order is decoded message-page-type of cipher

Spoilers under the cut (for those of you who decode yourselves):

Black and white-back of the cover jacket-authors cipher

Even his lies are lies-inside the front cover-theraprism cipher

Praise the fallen angle-first actual page-Cipheric (this is the only time Cipheric is used for some reason)

Olaf was here-same-rune (not sure what this is a reference to)

Remember us-same-Bill's cipher

Let him in and break the seal between what's fiction and what's real-books new master-Bill's cipher

The Axolotl thinks he's won but Ciphers games have just begun-handprint page-color cipher

Irregular-fake covers(very top)-color cipher

The one who writes the codes-about me-Caeser cipher

Glotto/slotheny-Magazine cover(7 new sins)-Bill's cipher (I love the new sins lol)

Not a phase-Stanford pines here(on the goth moth)-Authors cipher-love the jack skellington reference (if thats what that is lol)

Warning/Folding this card may/result in crossovers-the universe is a hollogram-rune (Maybe that's how we finally get an owl house/gravity falls crossover)

My optometrist never saw it coming-What is a human-Theraprism

Paper is book skin/Shave your grandma-Skin-Bill's cipher

Love pain-Bill's tattoo knuckles-Same

Lies-How to trick everyone into loving you-same

Regrowing limbs is Axy's art/but can he regrow a ripped out heart-How to cheat death-Bill's cipher (he must really be mad at the Axolotl)

Eye doctor of a different kind/who wants to make his patient blind-silly straws-caesar

The doctor says/three sips a day/will make the visions/go away-Same

Fussy eater/baby Billy/wouldn't drink/unless it's silly-same (love how this implies that he only drank out of silly straws)

Mason-Embarrassing memories-Bill's cipher (love seeing Dipper's real name again)

Booberry-the meaning of life(popsicle stick)-Bill's cipher

One eyed king-the early years-theraprism

Suck it-The good times(liscense plate)-Caesar

Can warp narrativity/protect fourth walls-Alert from time baby-A1Z26

Lone survivor of the Euclidean massacre-Rune (I wonder what happened during that event and what that event actually is)

Tantrum-Bill's Cipher

Which henchmaniac ratted me out-The shaman-Theraprism (I find this one funny)

Titans blood-the dark ages(Wizards hat)-Rune (Love the owl house reference here)

Suck it Merlin-Never trust a wizard-Rune

Daryll-Cipherstitions(lobster lord of the deep)-Theraprism (love how that's his name)

Curse Wittebane-Witchcraft-Rune

It's all made up-America(the dollar)-Caesar

Countries aren't-Bill's cipher

Rubberhose-Animation-A1Z26

Bill cipher-top secret file-Same

Six fingered freak-Lost in the woods-authors cipher

Stanley would have made her laugh-same (he just rolled better charisma dude)

If lost return to Bill-my muse and me-Theraprism (love how he said this means wise one and also more billford hehe)

Forget the past-A voice from the past page 2-Bill's cipher (this implies that Bill wants Ford to forget Stanley so he won't get in the way)

Hopefully F's gloves will hide what Cipher has done to my hands-I was wrong about everything page 2-Author's Cipher (I love this one <3)

Ouroboros-Wakey wakey here's a snakey (on the snake)-Bill's Cipher (I guess this is the snakes name?)

Miss you-try to forget (on window)-bro's secret code

Have I been too harsh all along?-Should I contact S-Bro's secret code

Hotxolotl-Dimensional authority call transcript (on the sauce packet)-Bill's cipher

I can write codes too it's not that hard!-Dipper's page-Bill's cipher (he do be flexing his intelligence there)

(What a buncha) Love ya bro-Stanley's letter-Bro's secret code (love how this shows that they both still remember the code they made up as kids)

Just fit in (repeated)-SSSSTANNNNLEEEYY-Rune

Holy mackerel-color cipher

AXOLOTLLOTAXOLOTLLOTLAXLOTLAXLOTLAXOLOTLLOTLAXLOTLAXLOTLAXOLOTLLOTLAXLOTLAXLO-Theraprism

Wellwellwellbeing-message from the theraprism-A1Z26

Spheremonger, Eternalor, Bill cipher, The Logicube, Paingorious, Jessica, Shadorg, Mr Silly, The beast-recent inpatient names-Theraprism (the hallucination dog is still creepy lol)

Justice for Scrimbles/Remember Grembley-inside Back cover-Theraprism/Rune (JUSTICE FOR SCRIMBLES!!!!)

Those are all of the codes that are in this book! (Or at least that I could find lol)

[radiodormouse]

Tries to Cook and Eat Girl (old art based on this passage from American Psycho)

Dawn. Sometime in November. Unable to sleep, writhing on my futon, still in a suit, my head feeling like someone has lit a bonfire on it, in it, a constant searing pain that keeps both eyes open, utterly helpless. There are no drugs, no food, no liquor that can appease the forcefulness of this greedy pain; all my muscles are stiff, all my nerves burning, on fire. I'm taking Sontinex by the hour since I've run out of Dalmane, but nothing really helps and soon even the box of Sominex is empty. Things are lying in the corner of my bedroom: a pair of girl's shoes from Edward Susan Bennis Allen, a hand with the thumb and forefinger missing, the new issue of Vanity Fair splashed with someone's blood, a cummerbund drenched with gore, and from the kitchen wafting into the bedroom is the fresh smell of blood cooking, and when I stumble up out of bed into the living room, the walls are breathing, the stench of decay smothers everything. I light a cigar, hoping the smoke will mask at least some of it.

Her br**sts have been chopped off and they look blue and deflated, the ni**les a disconcerting shade of brown. Surrounded by dried black blood, they lie, rather delicately, on a china plate I bought at the Pottery Barn on top of the Wurlitzer jukebox in the corner, though I don't remember doing this. I have also shaved all the skin and most of the muscle off her face so that it resembles a skull with a long, flowing mane of blond hair falling from it, which is connected to a full, cold corpse; its eyes are open, the actual eyeballs hanging out of their sockets by their stalks. Most of her chest is indistinguishable from her neck, which looks like ground-up meat, her stomach resembles the eggplant and goat cheese lasagna at Il Marlibro or some other kind of dog food, the dominant colors red and white and brown. A few of her intestines are smeared across one wall and others are mashed up into balls that lie strewn across the glasstop coffee table like long blue snakes, mutant worms. The patches of skin left on her body are blue-gray, the color of tinfoil. Her vagina has discharged a brownish syrupy fluid that smells like a sick animal, as if that rat had been forced back up in there, had been digested or something.

I spend the next fifteen minutes beside myself, pulling out a bluish rope of intestine, most of it still connected to the body, and shoving it into my mouth, choking on it, and it feels moist in my mouth and it's filled with some kind of paste which smells bad. After an hour of digging, I detach her spinal cord and decide to Federal Express the thing without cleaning it, wrapped in tissue, under a different name, to Leona Helmsley. I want to drink this girl's blood as if it were champagne and I plunge my face deep into what's left of her stomach, scratching my chomping jaw on a broken rib. The huge new television set is on in one of the rooms, first blaring out The Patty Winters Show, whose topic today is Human Dairies, then a game show, Wheel of Fortune, and the applause coming from the studio audience sounds like static each time a new letter is turned. I'm loosening the tie I'm still wearing with a blood-soaked hand, breathing in deeply. This is my reality. Everything outside of this is like some movie I once saw.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

and i just can't get enough, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

this is just a dick-sucking masterclass. maybe you're sucking him after a concert. idk. there's no story here. only dick. yup.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (no gender specified - if you have a mouth *thumbs up*, blowjob); pwp drabble

--

It was the taste but mostly it was the feeling.

The back of your throat stretching wide as your tongue snaked out in an arc. Nothing sloppy about it. Just pure precision with measured pressure and force, scooping one of those soft balls against your lips while the muscles of your throat closed in. Heat. Pulse. Slick. Again, but in the opposite direction. Lust in strokes of figure-eight, over and over, pushing your head closer to swallow that hard cock even deeper.

Above you, you heard of the music of a rough, low groan aimed at the ceiling.

A different kind of paradise you created with tongue, cheeks, lips, throat. Tighter and wetter and relaxed, no fear even in the lack of oxygen because it was just so, so good, tasting taut skin pulsing with blood and fervor, displaying your talent of the isolation of muscle. The production of saliva its own graphic show, slicker and thicker than one might expect, all to create that vacuum without overstraining your jaw.

In fact, your jaw was perfectly relaxed as the base of your tongue flexed and shoved the swollen head into the roof of your mouth.

“Hah… fuck…”

You tilted your head back and roughly ran the sensitive skin over the top of your mouth as your lower lip pressed to the underside of the shaft, all the way to the base. Slow and sensual, building the pleasure in layers. There was no fun in fast and messy. That was reserved for one-night stands and filthy casuals. No, this was erotic art soaked into seconds, minutes. Softness contrasting tightness, keeping a pool of saliva at the back of your throat for the throbbing head to squish into at every descent, and you could feel him flinch, hear him hiss, surprised at the additional sensation.

Shallow breathing.

Thinner and thinner.

Faster but still maintaining the depth, pulsing around the length as you moved your head back and forth, back and forth, tilting your head back at the ascent for the rough stimulation but also for that millisecond to breathe, but at this point you were so deep into the high that you didn’t even think about breathing, pressing down again to feel his cock fill your mouth again, so hard in your soft lips, so swollen in your tightness, and your tongue swept against the underside of the head, swiping at that thin skin with a rough caress.

You opened your eyes to see Min Yoongi lean the crown of his head against the wall. Gasping. Fair cheekbones gleaming, his long black hair soaked with sweat and his lower lip dark pink from biting down on it to avoid making too much noise.

Hands clutching his shirt, pulling it up.

Knuckles white.

You isolated the sensations to only the head, consistent and constant and ignition, closing your eyes again to bask in anticipation bleeding into the scorching flames of desire, flexing the tip of your tongue as the base curled around him. Tighter. Sticky and wet and the hint of pre-cum, closer, deeper, his hips locking, preventing himself from moving so he could savor the amplifying, agonizing bliss, head in the clouds and moaning soundlessly, ecstasy vibrating all over his body and into your lips and all the way down to your core, burning your insides and aching for more

You felt his large palm touch the back of your head and push.

Hot stream of strong, salty cum flooding your throat.

You slowed, swallowing, and Yoongi hissed, flinching at the sensitivity, but you buried him into your throat again. Opened one eye. Peeked at him through lashes. He cursed under his breath, almost a growl, pushing your hair back with deft fingers, the orgasm rippling through his breath and body, giving him the shakes.

“F-Fuck…”

Your tongue circled around his shivering length and he swore again, rough and abrupt, biting back any further sound by shoving his tongue in his cheek and closing his eyes. Head bowing, wispy strands of black falling forward to frame heavy exhale.

Very low, almost a whisper.

You name in more than lust.

You could hear it in his voice. Longing. Craving. As if he couldn’t wait to have you suck him off again.

Honestly?

Neither could you.

You started licking around his balls again.

The side of Yoongi’s lips curved into a devious, open-mouthed smirk, pink tongue sticking out at the edge.

--

drabbles masterpost | masterpost

[its-a-pain-having-a-name]

So we don’t know we just had this little character in our head which made a fucked up little art project and we need to remember it. Gonna post it because why not, they are kind tma so yeah. (These descriptions are bad and rudimentary at best be warned)

The twisting halls-

Long halls of doors which branch off into spirals it has striped blue/white pink/yellow wallpaper

The dark room-

Painted with the blackest black with red coloured lantern and figures in the room

The moon pool-

Liminal space with repeating columns with snaking pools of glass and cyan light.

The room of isolation-

It is cold just a chair and glass all around however behind the glass is translucent white glass and the appearance of talking figures in the distance

Immensity-

Below is lit blue glass which goes continuously down, the surface of which looks like the ripples of the sea. Over head is wide and open, full of titan statues, forced perspective and orbiting planets.

The moon chamber-

Mirrors used to reflect any moon light down to a grasping stone hand

Impossible stairs-

A room of Escher like staircases most defying gravity and leading nowhere. Separate but similar to is large barely climbable blocks making the wanderer feel small

The liminal section-

A mash between different corridors with blue sky painted behind windows, massive arch ways and staircases

The watched library-

A place filled with bookcases which arch to the ceiling packed with books of gibberish. Like the library of babble however some parts of the books have diagrams, strange number systems, characters from made up languages and short spouts of paranoia, ideas about being so close to knowing and endlessly being watched. There is a throne of green in there and the walls are littered with all kinds of eyes.

The trinket room-

Filled with all kinds of curious and impossible mathematical objects

The fractal rooms-

A collection of rooms where the floor is large detailed carving of such things as trionskies triangle, the lichen berg pattern and the Mandelbrot set.

The decay room-

Looks dusty old beige, fungi blooming. There is a withered looking sofa

The proximal room-

You climb up through a trap door, which when put down is almost unnoticeable. It is like a classroom, the clock does not tick, the computers time does not change and where all doors and windows should be there is a recession but the wall is smoothed over.

The static room-

An animatronic model slums across a desk sluggishly moving. A coffee cup filled with a psychedelic looking pattern sits before the figure. In front of the figure the only light comes from many old tv screens which are filled with colourful static, bars of colour or neon smiling face with spiralling eyes.

The meat shop-

A butcher’s shop where you see candy coloured gore, a selection of goods sit on plates on display they are caked in resin made piles representing dripping colourful gore. Some are pink others neon blue. a model stands massive cleverer mid-swing the model of the muscular butcher who has too many muscles and extra parts.

The neglected mall-

A series of ruined shops situated in a concreted looking space devoid of customers

The puppets room-

With a massive chessboard floor , chess pieces, two large marionette figures playing while being controlled by a gargantuan spider puppet. Smaller model spiders and webs are scattered about the room as well.

The faceless auditorium-

A theatre stage with rows of seats slanting up and around. Model of performers’ on the stage mid act, audience members everywhere even up in the gods.

Most if not all audiences members have smooth blankness where a face should be, some may or maybe only some performers only have mouths. All performers have masks. The clothing is fancy in style.

The altar-

It’s hard to say how or why you’d believe so but this place was obviously of worship specifically for the spiral. The only room that seems to have directly worship in this place the others all seem like art installations or appreciation of the other factors of fear it was strange to see.

[seramilla]

Dragon’s Blood Curse AU

(What if fantasy setting where Carmilla was a champion for the Unseelie Court? And what if Sera was the High Fae of the Seelie court? I dunno!! Just had a lot of what if’s while thinking about Carmilla as a dragon)

Atop the hill looking across the dark forest stood the grey and foreboding decrepit castle. In the topmost window of the highest tower stood a tall thin skeletal figure clad in black attire. The lich paced for some time as the sun started to dip behind the tree line. He decided to check on the daughters of his dearest friend before speaking to her.

Zestial made his way to the alchemy lab and quietly opened the door just a sliver. He smiled seeing Odette taking notes of what appeared to be an elixir. He had no doubt she was looking for a way to help her mother. Odette had always been the more studious child. He watched as she removed a glove revealing a scaled arm then pluck one off her arm. He holds his breath as she places it in a bowl and pours the tincture over the scale. An acrid smell filled the air as the scale sizzled and dissolved like it’s in acid. Zestial’s eyes widen seeing her grab the vial in a fit of anger and frustration and throw it against the wall with a snarl.

He let her be as he quietly closed the door and headed further downstairs.Zestial made his to the balcony of the crumbling courtyard and found Clara practicing her swordplay. Judging by all the destroyed training dummies it was safe to assume that she too, was in an irritable mood, so he continued deeper down into his ancient abode. He could hear the sound of chains rattling as he approached the barred door to his dungeons. He had not needed to use them in over a century. Now he was refurbishing them for his close friend. She refused to stay anywhere else in his home and quickly learned the reason why she made this decision.

Magic pools into his hand surrounding it with a glowing green energy as he mimics the motion of unlocking a door.

The enchantments and seals dissipated and the massive iron bars slid back allowing the door to open. He approaches the inky black room that fell silent. He was early it would seem as his eyes met a large pair of blazing crimson orbs filled with rage and spite of a deep injustice. A large light stormy grey snout snaked into the dim light as lips pulled back into a snarl revealing a dangerous set of teeth followed by a dark grey mask like marking around the furious orbs. Next came her large black horns and luxurious mane of white fur accentuated with a few black stripes. The chains rattled and went taught as she lunged at him. He could feel his cloak being disturbed by the air flow from the massive talons slashing the air in front of him. Perhaps he should have knocked first. Any further thoughts vanished as a roar of despair and pain shook the foundations of the castle. Black and purple flames erupted from the dragon burning away the form till a much smaller shape of his dear friend remained.

“Carmilla, art thou alright? Thou were rather upset, was thine beloved on thy mind?”

Zestial held out a hand for her. A large white hand takes his.

“Yes Zestial, I was thinking of her.”

“Why? Thou knew the High Fae of the Seelie wouldn’t be able to court anyone beneath her station.”

Her crimson orbs with white irises stared sadly into his.

“She loves me Zestial, me who was nothing more than a human champion of the Unseelie court. She loves me so much…and I love her…but when our courts discovered our union…”

She shudders and wipes her eyes.

“Well the blame fell solely upon me. But no one expected the Seelie to give such a cruel punishment. Her court cursed me Zestial, the Seelie court cursed me.”

She sighs walking to the small grated window and gazes into the moonless sky.

“But at least she wasn’t punished… How are-“

Zestial stops her in her tracks.

“Thy daughters are well but hath thrown themselves into aiding thou however they can.”

Carmilla gazes up the stairs with worry. Her daughter had been lucky to barely have been affected by the Dragon’s Blood curse. She starts to head towards them only to be stopped the silver shackles.

“Fret not Carmilla, they shall arrive shortly.”

Zestial unlocked the her bound wrists. as they slowly headed up to the main hall.

“Mother! Zestial!!! There’s a fae!!”

At the sound of Odette’s voice, Zestial and Carmilla rush at the the rest of the way there only to catch sight of the fae collapsing on the floor. They looked terrible and they had a squirming bundle. Carmilla cautiously approaches and sees an infant in an embroidered blanket. She looks at it more closely and freezes. She recognizes her own stitch work. Carmilla had made this for the next child they were planning on having. She moves back from the unconscious form realizing who this is and why they are here.

“Sera…?”

Zestial whisks away the unconscious Sera to Carmilla's room, where they both check the fae for any serious injuries. Carmilla asks her oldest and dearest friend to turn away for a moment, while she cleans Sera's wounds. The woman must have been through Hell — she’s covered in scrapes and bruises, and looks exhausted. Carmilla dresses her in fresh clothes and puts a cool rag to her forehead.

Zestial stands off in the corner of Carmilla's room, holding the babe and singing to her in a deep and enchanting, dark hymn. The child seems comforted, thought she is still quite shaken up from whatever had caused Sera to become unconscious. The child had been protected from any serious harm by the embroidered blanket that Sera enchanted prior to the child's birth. It's seen better days, but the fibers are still intact, and there’s no blood from either the child or Sera on it. Thank the Heavens for that. Carmilla's foresight had born prescious fruit yet again.

Carmilla had always suspected the Seelie might attempt to harm another of her and Sera's children, were they to find out about their coupling. This most recent event had been the last straw, and thus the curse of the dragon inflicted upon Carmilla would also be carried down to any of Carmilla's blood. The effect was lessened on her and Sera's descendants; Sera's Seelie blood has a pacifying effect on the curse, but Clara and Odette still have their own problems to bear. They research, study, and concoct enchantments for hours on end, desperately seeking a cure for their mother, and thus, their own predicament, as well.

But even this latest child, Zestial can see, isn't immune from the Dragon's Blood curse. Specks of rainbow-colored scales adorn her small face like freckles, under each of her eyes and scattered around her nose like little reflections of sunshine upon her face. This child's patterns seem almost...pretty compared to the grays and blacks of Carmilla and her daughters. This child also resembles Sera...much more so than Clara and Odette. Some deep enchantment is at work here. And Zestial thinks he may need for Sera to awaken before any answers are forthcoming.

Carmilla observes Zestial with her and Sera's youngest child, singing to her and calming her, just like he'd done with the other girls when they were babes. Thankfully, this one falls asleep very easily. Zestial strokes the child's cheeks with one of his sharp, vicious claws...they could tear through bone and flesh so easily, but with her children, the lich is as gentle as a lamb.

She's thankful for his help. Carmilla is still reeling from the fact that Sera is here...with her...and she'd brought their third-born with her, to boot. Carmilla has so many questions...she pleads with Sera, entreats her to just wake up! Her logic fights with her emotions, knowing the other woman must rest, but also mentally demanding answers; this back-and-forth between her Unseelie self and the impatient, predatory nature of the dragon is an imposition on her, even now.

Thankfully, it doesn't take long for Sera to stir. Whether from sensing Carmilla's tender hand against her face, or from the strangeness of her new surroundings, Carmilla can't be sure. But as Sera's eyes open, after at least an hour of Carmilla standing vigil by her bedside, squeezing the other woman's hand, Sera’s light gray eyes finally meet Carmilla’s red and gold.

Sera's lashes blink desperately, as if trying to make sense of what she's seeing. Carmilla grips Sera's hand closer to her chest, hoping the faint smattering of scales on her hand and forearm can't be felt by the other woman in her drowsed state. Sera blinks heavily again, and then shakes her head...then meets Carmilla's gaze, and there are tears in her eyes.

"Carmilla!" Sera cries, almost too out of it to do much more than squeak the name aloud. Then, as if coming back to herself, the Seelie starts to sit up, and look around the room desperately. There's an air of panic and worry to her features. Carmilla thinks she knows why.

"Emily?" Sera asks, still looking around the room desperately for her daughter. She hasn't yet spotted her being held by the dark figure in the corner. "Where's Emily?!"

[starsandink13]

The White Crow Game Chapter 7

The white doors gave way with a deep, grating groan that sounded like a dying person. Light from outside flooded a small part of the art gallery, revealing walls painted a deathly gray. It was a vast room cloaked in a deep, impregnable gloom. The only thing you could make out was marble floor and the long black runner carpet on it. Taking in a deep breath, you took a quiet step forward. The lights above you turned on suddenly, making you gasp. You relaxed slightly and put a hand over your racing heart before turning your attention back to your surroundings.

There was of course, the statues and paintings featuring Corvin that you were accustomed to by now: there were also artworks that featured different but just as unnerving subject matters. Some were still-lifes of vases with skulls and insects crawling over dying and withering flowers. Others were landscapes that featured gray woods cloaked in heavy fog with ghostly figures peering from behind the dead trees with their yellow glowing eyes. A few were watercolors of dimly-lit abandoned dungeons covered in cobwebs with various torture instruments caked in old dried blood. There were some statues of black and white marble in the shape of crows, owls, foxes, snakes, spiders, and other animals associated with trickery and magic.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you held your satchel closer to you. Your heart drummed in your chest like a frightened bird, a cold sweat clung to your back. You took another hesitant step into the gallery, and the doors behind you slammed closed.

"No, no, no!" You yelled and jiggled the knob, but it remained firmly locked. You squeezed your eyes and let out a scream of frustration from your throat.

Damn it, of course it had to do that!

You took a moment to calm your frayed nerves down, turning around and braced yourself for whatever horrors that may be lurking. No way but forward. Either find the key or a way out of this gallery before something else happens.

As you hurriedly walked, you noticed a large and detailed painting featuring a handsome man lying down on a stone and wearing only a white loincloth being impaled through the stomach by a trio of black-cloaked angels wielding spears. His body was contorted into a rather sensual pose and his face was a cross between ecstasy and agony. The man's dark eyes were rolled back with his mouth partially open as blood trickled down from the side and the stark lighting highlighted his bare, muscled chest.

What a charming painting. You grimaced and turned away from the artwork.

The further you walked, the stronger your dread grew tenfold and the disquieting silence made it worse, making each echoing footstep sound deafening. It felt as if your feet were made of blocks of ice; each step was agonizingly slow as you half-expected something to attack you. Your skin had broken out into small bumps, even the slightest brush of your clothes was unbearably uncomfortable. The gallery seemed to stretch on for miles, the artwork became more sinister the further you walked. Almost as if they were alive. You looked over your shoulder to see an alabaster statue of Corvin with its head turned towards you and wearing a devilish expression with an impossibly wide grin.

I-I could have sworn it wasn't looking this way! You shivered, your heart felt like it was going to burst from terror. The palm of your hands was drenched with sweat, making it difficult to hold onto your knife. Keep moving. Don't look over your shoulder. Just continue on.

You wiped the sweat from your palms with the side of your jeans. Your heart thrummed in your chest, each beat was unbearably loud in your ears. The temperature in the room seemed to have dropped, causing tiny bumps on your arms despite your heavy jacket. A cold drop of sweat rolled down your chin. Your breath came out in short, labored pants. The sound of chuckling came from behind you.

Reeling around, you held your knife in front of you and darted your eyes across the gallery. The air was thick and cold; each breath you took felt like breathing in small, icy needles. You readied yourself for an attack but continued walking, holding your knife tighter.

A few paintings from where you stood, you saw a portrait that had a key in his hand at the forefront. You smiled broadly and ran towards the canvas. Your relief was short-lived as you came closer and noticed that the painting only had the silhouette of a key.

You stomped your foot in frustration and clenched your forehead with your hand. That little--! Of course he would hide it again!

As you grumbled, the sound of scraping stone came from behind you.

What was that!?

Quickly turning around, you watched in horror as one of the statues began to move. First a little twitch in its fingers before it cracked its neck. The statue stretched out its fingers, testing out its heavy marble body before approaching you with a stiff gait and smile.

"Hello (Y/N)," Corvin's voice came out of the animated statue as it slightly bowed its head.

You were too frozen with shock to respond. Your open mouth was quivering, trying to find what words to say to the being. You clenched the knife in your hand tighter. The pounding of your heart was nearly deafening as it took another step towards you.

"Can you hear me?" The marble being tilted its head to one side.

"Y-yes. What the hell is this!?" You shouted.

"Any artwork bearing his resemblance are representatives of the mansion's master; they do his bidding when he cannot be present for whatever reason." The statue explained.

"Why isn't he here when he was perfectly fine appearing out of nowhere to annoy me before!?" You demanded.

"That we cannot tell you," the statue shook its head.

Because he's trying to find a new place for the key. You squeezed your eyes, trying to stifle back the scream in your throat.

"I see," you grumbled.

"He has summoned us-- well, rather animated us-- to see how you are and to ask you of your preferences."

"Preferences?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, for the wedding ceremony." A painting said as the figure in it leaned back on the sofa within its frame.

"Of course," you put a hand over your eyes, not bothering to suppress your groan anymore. You slowly put your hand down to see that the statue was waiting patiently for your answer with a pen and note in its hands.

"Can you put that away?" You snarled, "I am not in the mood to answer any questions for this stupid wedding!"

The statue nodded its head and put the pen and note aside on a nearby table as a Corvin wearing a heavy cloak with a spiderweb damask from the painting next to you leapt out from the frame. It looked at its arms before clenching its hands a few times, turning one of its arms a few times over before doing the same thing to the other one. It gingerly put a hand on your shoulder and gave you a stiff smile.

"Please take a seat," he said and patted his hand on a chaise.

You did as the painting told you and the room suddenly became chillier. You shivered as small bumps rose on your skin and wrapped your arms over yourself in a feeble effort to warm yourself. The statue attempted to take off the coat, only to realize that it was attached to its body.

"Pardon that," it sheepishly said and looked away from you.

The living painting shook its head and walked over to where you were. You flinched as it sat down on your left, the painted Corvin draped its dark silk cape over your shoulders.

"Is that any better?" It asked.

You nodded your head a bit and dropped your head. Exhaustion made every part of your body ached: from the soles of your feet to your throbbing finger tips. All of your limbs and joints felt heavy, as if they were made of solid metal.

"Tired?" The painted fairy asked and put your head on its lap.

"Yeah," you murmured. You were too weary to protest and let him run his lithe, pale fingers through your (H/C) hair. You closed your eyes and let out a small sigh.

"From the game?" The living artwork continued.

"Mhmm," you mumbled and buried your face further into the painting's lap. You opened your eyes slightly to see it giving you a tranquil and soothing smile.

"Poor thing," it said as it pulled a stray lock away from your face. "You deserve a bit of rest after all of that you've been through."

You raised your head slightly to get a better look at it, only for the painting to gently push your head back down. You threw your arm over its lap and turned on your side.

"Why not just marry him?" It asked and brushed a lock of hair out of your face.

"Why should I?" You countered, your voice muffled by exhaustion and its lap.

"A better question is why wouldn't you?" The painting responded. "You wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again. You won't have to answer to anyone and you don't have to worry about such silly things like bills nor deadlines. But most importantly, if you want something, he'll provide it. He'd be a slave to you and your whims."

You numbly nodded your head and pulled the cloak closer to you. Your exhaustion had almost completely numbed your mind and body. You wanted nothing more but to fall asleep in the fairy's lap. Thoughts of never having to worry about paying your bills on time, budgeting, or putting up with annoying co-workers ever again played in your head. The thought of spending each day in luxury in a grand mansion with everything you could possibly want at your fingertips swam through your mind. The more you thought about it the stronger it became. You wanted it. You could almost feel it within reach, just barely grazing your fingers.

"That sounds absolutely..."

You stopped when the statue and painting was leaning in closer, its eyes almost seemed to glow with victory. You realized what Corvin was doing. This is was his way of trapping and making you lose. To wear you out and exhaust you until you couldn't take it any more and give up.

"...Awful." You spat out as shoved the painting away from you and stood up with your chest out. Your determined, (E/C) eyes glared into the cold, blank ones of the painted fairy.

Every painting and statue went still. Their blank eyes were trained on you. A stifling, heavy tension filled the air. The lights began to flicker and a chorus of deafening screams filled the gallery.

The nearest Corvin lunged out towards you. You screamed and jumped away from them. On the walls, the other painted Corvins leapt out from their confines or begun to drag themselves towards you with half their bodies out of the frames. All of the artworks' eyes were completely black and their faces twisted with an unholy anger.

You shrieked as one of the marble Corvins grabbed for your ankle. Swiftly bringing your foot up you stomped on the statue's face. Pins of pain shot up your leg and you gasped before stomping into it once more. The nose broke off and the statue let go of you. You scrambled away from it as an ocean of portraits crawled after you. Not even ten steps in and one of the paintings made a grab for your wrist. You tripped over pedestal as they swiped at your legs. You gasped and struggled to stand up.

This distraction allowed for a painting to charge into you. Before you could react, it grabbed your wrist tightly almost to the point of breaking the bones underneath. Its lips were twisted in a giant grin, revealing knife-like teeth.

"No!" You cried out and tried to pull your arm away, only for it to tighten its grip and making you yell in pain.

Your eyes were wide with horror as the painting slowly sank back into its canvas, pulling you towards it. The other artworks watched with anticipation and victory as your hand got closer towards the canvas. With a shaking hand, you grabbed the knife and stabbed the painting in time as your fingers nearly grazed the canvas.

A sharp cry of pain came from the portrait before it let go of you. The surrounding art screamed in frustration and continued their chase. As a statue grabbed at you from the side, you quickly dodged its grasp and it collided into another-- shattering into rubble.

Your legs felt like they were being stung by wasps as you ran. Each breath you took was painful, like you were inhaling nails. Your bleary eyes strained for the exit.

Where is it!?

You screamed as a statue grabbed for your wrist. You stumbled backwards, nearly falling into the arms of another behind you. The artwork was starting to close in on you. Their mouths were pulled into gaping black smiles and they let out a collective, chilling laugh. You threw the knife in the air, diverting their attention as you sprinted through the small gap. You felt their fingers pulling at your jacket and pants.

By now, your head felt like it was filled with stones. The throbbing pain in your legs worsened with each step. Just as you were about to collapse, the doors came into view and you let out a small cry of joy. Biting back the discomfort, you ran faster towards the escape.

You slammed the door open. The army of artwork let out a collective shrill, earsplitting scream like a plague of locusts as you shut the door closed on them with a grunt. Quickly, you barricaded the door with a table and chair and took a step back. Splinters of wood shot towards you as the artworks barged against the door.

"(Y/N), let us in!" They screamed in a distorted voice. "Let us in right now!"

You shrieked as a large splinter narrowly missed your shoulder. Peering from the jagged hole was countless pairs of soulless black eyes. Before you could run over to the exit, the barricade gave way and the first wave of Corvins came in. Their eyes were wild as they exposed grinning maws full of sharpened teeth.

"It's over now," the one at front cackled.

You grabbed the candle from the pedestal in time for the nearest painting to leap at you. You struck the painting in the face with the lit candle. Its body erupted into flames and screamed in agony as it stumbled backwards, setting the other paintings on fire. Horrified screams ripped from them as they tried to scramble away from the raging inferno. The flames began to spread, licking away at its surroundings as a thick cloud of smoke filled the air. You coughed and crawled low to the ground as the artwork was distracted from the chaos.

Your vision was getting hazy and was spotted by large, black dots. The smoke leeched away whatever little strength you had left in your weakened body. The fire was coming closer to you. Barely four feet away from your foot. It inched closer with each second.

C-come on. You coughed as you struggled to stand up. You leaned against the exit's door, each movement felt impossibly heavy and slow. You could barely see the outline of your hand. Hot sweat rolled down your face and made your shirt heavy and cling to your back. Your shaking hand reached for the doorknob.

Little more....

As the fire was about to lick the hem of your pants, you finally opened the door. You collapsed out of the room and slammed the door shut behind with your numb foot. Massive beads of sweat dripped down the side of your face as you stared at the the door in shock.

I can't believe it. You looked down at your quivering hands and let out a choked cry of relief. I'm still alive.

You heard someone click their tongue in annoyance and you turned your head. Behind you, Corvin shook his head as he approached you with a look of disappointment on his face.

"What a shame," he said and opened the door: revealing that the fire was now gone. The only things left behind were destroyed remnants of canvases and furniture smoldering with plumes of black smoke.

"Some of them were commissions by my favorite artists," he lamented.

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you sent them to attack me," you snapped, your voice trembling from exhaustion.

"Fair enough," he said, "I can always get the artists to redo it."

Corvin approached a burnt piece of canvas and gingerly picked it up. "Really is such a shame. I liked that portrait a lot. He really emphasized my best features: such as my eyes and cheekbones."

You shakily stood up and brushed the front of your shirt, giving the fairy a withering glare. To which he responded with a barely noticeable but arrogant smirk. Before he could make another comment, you shoved your hands into his coat pockets and began to feel around for the key before moving onto his pants' pockets.

"Oh?" He tilted his head in curiosity with his half-lidded eyes twinkling.

"Take off your hat. Now." You demanded.

To your surprise, Corvin obliged and lowered his head towards you: revealing a full head of alabaster hair that shined radiantly in the light. Without the shadow of his hat, you saw that his eyelashes were long and black, and that his lash lines were rimmed with black kohl. You slowly ran your fingers through the silky, smooth locks. Carefully, you felt for the key through the thick strands of hair only to find nothing. You patted down his shoulders before moving down to his chest, patting that down as well only to feel nothing but the toned pectorals underneath his shirt.

"Damn it," you huffed and adjusted your jacket.

"My, if you wanted physical affection, you could have just said so," he snickered.

You rolled your eyes, not having the energy to argue with Corvin any further and stormed away from him.

"I wonder where you'll head to next," he pondered and put a finger to his chin. "There's so much left of this mansion to explore and you've only scratched the surface."

[gamerbearmira]

QUEEN CA-CA-CARD

YURRRRR ART ⁉️ but it’s been a minute since I did a mass art post. Gotta love it here. Gotta provide the content. Like I’ve been leaving y’all with scraps, BUT UH. I’M TRYING TO DO MORE NOW THAT IM ON FALL BREAK‼️‼️

Also I got a little sore throat. Sickness been being passed around and for once I actually caught it BUT I’M FINE, I TOOK SIME MEDICINE, WE MOVE 🚴‍♀️💨💨💨💨💨

White swan…and black swan…woaw…

Snakes🚶‍♀️ that’s it. I just wanted to draw them. Might change em to rattle snakes I. I dunno. Also no pacifiers, they usually just give them honey suckles or some flower that has a crap ton of nectar. Seems to calm them down 🌚

Air Benda‼️ no, but this was the art that was for that one snippet I did a while back. Most of them random doodles, I don’t even know.

LAST UNICORN? MLP? WE’LL NEVER KNOW….jk but uh. I saw that cause. Both were in my mind, but you can tell which one had more influence. Cutie marks have no significance to Madrigals, it’s about earning wings (for the cool siblings) or your horn (for the warm siblings).

Sadness 🌚 no but uhhhhhh it’s been a minute since I did this AU, and am even bigger minute since I did any real angst. I think Alma would’ve had a portrait of Julieta and Agustín, similar to the Pedro one.

DOGS! DOG SIBLINGS! MY FAVS! I LOVE DOGS AND DOORS 🦜 Cocoa and Beau visit Bruno in the walls. Very often. As in literal ply any given chance they can. Julieta and Pepa might not be able to as often, but their dogs do it for them <333

OK THAT’S IT BYEEEEE I’LL DO ASKS LATER <3333

[theshippirate22]

congrats @snazzy-serpent you just got an unsolicited subscription to my art teacher Crowley headcanons

-the minimalism of his flat carries over 110%. his supply closet has everything meticulously organized in clear boxes with white lids and everything’s labeled. He has the kids spray down their desks every period so they stay the same color white they were when he bought them five and a half years ago.

-The only exception to this is the walls of the classroom that are covered floor to ceiling (and part of the ceiling for that matter) in art, whether it’s a famous piece, student work, or one of his. One time a painting fell off and all the students freaked out because they didn’t know the walls were white and it looked fucking weird to see that single patch of cheap industrial paint.

-He has a pet snake that he keeps in the classroom called Janthony. all the students are obsessed with it and they often take pictures of him to use as reference images.

-there’s also plants everywhere. also for references. and to make the place seem a little less sterile. the students have named most of them.

-his still lifes are made entirely of plastic skulls, old candles, said plants, and rubber ducks. he says it’s an art choice, something something the concept of Vanitas. all the students just think he’s a retired emo kid.

-he literally always has Hozier on because he says it’s good for creativity. all the students now have a pavlovian reaction where they can’t work unless Hozier is playing somehow. once there was a sub who couldn’t get spotify to work and the whole class almost erupted into anarchy

-crowley almost always starts with a black canvas or paper. he does his sketches in light gray or white pencil and he like actually twitches when he sees people starting on white.

-he also does paintings of galaxies, planets, nebulas, other space things pretty regularly. There’s a huge mural in the library that he’s working on of one Alpha Centauri

-sometimes when Aziraphale is on prep (like a teacher free period if prep is the regional name) after a really stressful period he’ll come and sit in the back of the class and just watch crowley teach because a) his classroom is really comfortable and b) he’s a delight to listen to. plus then a bunch of the students show Aziraphale all the stuff they’re working on and it’s fucking cool

-alternatively, if crowley is bored, he’ll go sit in the back of one of Aziraphale’s lessons and sketch him. the students have learned that if they go ask after class crowley will show them his drawings

-he doesn’t so much “teach” as give the kids supplies and let them trial-by-fire it out until they can experience it for themselves

-Crowley has a very loose painting style. it’s pretty objective but it’s always just a *little* abstracted so it never quite looks like just a photo. his drawings are much more photorealistic though

-he went through a purple phase for a whole year where everything was monochromatic but the rest of the time he has a lot of green and yellow influence

-he has an ap art class but it’s by invitation only and only open to seniors because it’s one of the most sought after classes. Crowley gets *this* close to a mental breakdown every February when he has to decide who gets an invitation because he hates the idea of leaving someone out and he thinks that all of his kids have the potential to be really good

-he makes a point of seeming just a little intimidating but it’s a total joke to everyone who knows him because he’s actually just really weird and super sweet

-there are students in his room literally constantly. his favorites go in there to hang out during lunch because it’s safe and quiet and clean. when others are having bad days, they come sit in his room with their head on the desk, regardless of if he’s got a class in there or not. he never mentions it unless it happens frequently and then it’s just to help out if somethings going on

-he also moved a shitty leather loveseat into the back of the storage closet because multiple kids had gone in there to have panic attacks and he’d much rather they were back there where they were alone and safe and he’s within earshot than freaking out on the bathroom floor or trying to hide that anything’s happening.

-he literally knows everything. somehow he ends up in every conversation about high school drama so he knows what’s going on all the time, and people tell him the most random shit because he just feels generally safe. he thinks it’s funny

-he still drives the bentley. everyone speculates about how he could afford it because he’s a fucking teacher. he also has an unofficial designated parking spot in the staff parking and everyone knows not to even get near it.

-he’s covered in paint all the time. he selectively wears black but everything has little flecks of color on it. the students tease him when he gets new clothes because they can always tell because they’re not speckled yet.

-he’s also the co-chair of GSA (aziraphale is the president) and he has a single white mug on his desk that’s full of pens, mechanical pencils, and little pride flags on sticks. it’s a whole thing.

-he has a filing cabinet that’s just full of graduation announcements from former students. they’re very dear to him

damn that go long very fast anyway thanks for reading reblog with your own

[donethatbeforelong]

Too far away

Fandom: Team Fortress 2

Pairing: Heavy/Medic; Red Oktoberfest

(Authour here, just want to let you know that this will have two parts and I have decided to put more spaces between each paragraphs)

•~•~•~•

"You're so down to Earth

And I'm up in the Stars

Show me the Sea

And I'll take you to Mars"

This is close to a metaphor, with one being off in the stars, and one down in Earth's atmosphere. In this case, however, maybe it doesn't need to be earth and space.

One's burned into the blacklist, and one's fate has yet to be decided. However far apart their realms might be, one will crawl through deserts with snakes to be with someone who's too out of reach.

•~•~•~•

"Ludwig, what do you think you're doing?" The devil couldn't handle seeing the doctor play fool for any longer. He had stood there for an hour or so, and the doctor couldn't even acknowledge him being there.

Ludwig, an angel who fell from Heaven in its early stages of existence, doesn't seem to fear The Devil as much as he should.

"Hm?" The doctor hummed in response and turned around, smoothing out his hair with his free hand. Though Ludwig knows his presumed boss is talking to him, the German doesn't bother looking at him directly.

The laboratory was squeaky clean as usual, with the exceptions of his work desk and the current subject being gagged on his operating table. Hell doesn't provide too much for its employees or workers, just enough for them to get work done efficiently. But Ludwig was an exception from this. Up to date equipments and technologies lined the walls of his lab and has presented itself several time throughout his procedures. Satan nearly exhausted most of his power just for a living human to enter Hell for Ludwig's experiment.

Ludwig's appearance was quite different from the rest of the demons who resonated in Hell. It's common knowledge that one's appearance can be changed and altered in a way they like, so it's not rare to see the many different varietion of demons from the same Ring. Though, in some rarer cases, a demon managed to retain some of its angelic features from before the fall. Ludwig was one of the many that had kept one or two of his old features.

His appearance is based on his most commited sin or which Ring he belonged to, similar to everyone else. He had black hair that was greying on the side to depict his age and time spent in Hell, blue eyes that used to be comforting now filled with malicious intentions were hidden behind round glasses. His skin was peppered with golden flakes, going from the side of his face down to his heel. This was not the only angelic feature that managed to survive the fall. Wings that he often kept hidden were burned badly during the fall, some feathers now dark in color but some stayed white. He could barely use them, but cutting them off won't be of any use.

Many assumed that Ludwig was an angel who had possession of impressive intellect that God created and decided to gift him those golden flakes. The real truth, however, was that he held an angel from that department captive when he got the chance and experimented on them. During the procedure, he removed the feature that distinguished them from the others and implanted it into himself. Unfortunately, due to the use of Hell Fire, the angel died and that's when he started his way to Hell at a fast pace. He spent only a few decades in Heaven before he was casted down.

Disciplined badly with burning hot iron and holy whips, Ludwig was casted down to Hell with disapproving looks and digusted faces from the angels he once was close with.

Throughout his time in Hell, Ludwig had adopted a German accent which didn't take long to get used to. In addition to that, he also studied medicine and German during his free time. He mastered the art of medicine within a few decades and had completely adapted to the German accent and language.

He didn't belong to a specific Ring which is a rare occurrence and only some of the unfortunate demons would get into this situation. Satan took him in as one of his many assistance in the Wrath Ring. Though, some demons often see Ludwig going off to the Pride or Lust Ring but they never bothered telling Satan. On one occasion, he gone to the Sloth Ring and didn't return until a month later. When Satan asked about it, Ludwig claimed to have gone there to 'take a break'.

"I'm asking about your 'subject' on the table." Satan stated plainly, a sharp finger pointing at the gagged demon on the table. Its eyes were blood shot, a stitch here and there all over its body. The line of dried tears remained visible despite the hours that went by.

Ludwig looked at the operating table, then at Satan, and back to the table. A small smile spread on his lips as he closed his eyes and gently shrugged.

"Just wanted to run some experiments to find a vay to prevent Holy Water from harming us too severely." His voice was chipper and there was a spring in his step when he went over to his desk and picked up his clipboard, noting down his findings.

Satan sighed audibly and rubbed his temple. Ludwig had been a pain in his ass ever since he managed to convince him to provide funding for these experiments.

Though, that's the only thing he's here for.

Ever since that one time Satan got a living man down to Hell, Ludwig had grew an unhealthy obsession with human beings - similar to his already unhealthy obsession with birds, especially pigeons and doves. That man died within a month because of the various painful tests that he had to endure and Ludwig had begged Satan for another one to be brought down. Although it was made clear to the German doctor that he will never bring another down for it was too risky, Ludwig still tried to find a way to do that himself.

An assistant of his had informed him about Ludwig's change in behavior whenever Satan was off to see the other managers of Hell. Usually, it wouldn't be much other than creeping around the place in a suspicious manner. Now, however, it was lockpicking and entering Satan's office to look through various human records and to watch the cameras that surveillance the human world and Hell's targeted souls.

It was easy to notice and identify that it was him. Ludwig often wears a white lab coat with a long tail behind, nearly resembling one of a dove's.

The assistant said he had developed a particular interest in a Russian man who's file was not as thick compared to some others. Mikhail was his name.

"Vell, if you're here to just ask about my experiment the you may leave, danke." Ludwig waved his red gloved hand at Satan, tossing his clipboard on his desk and returning his attention to the subject on the table.

"No, I don't think I will." Satan lowered his voice in order to sound calm and collected despite the rage inside him, but it seemed to have intimidated the doctor. His body went rigid and hands spread out by his side. At least he got the doctor's attention now.

Ludwig slowly turned around, crossing his arms behind his back. A weak, nervous grin was forced on his lips, his eyes darting ever so often. Satan stood there in silence with Ludwig, letting him guess what he had done wrong.

"I know you had snuck into my office multiple times." Satan eventually stated calmly, his voice deep and quiet. Ludwig's grin disappeared from his face almost immediately, leaving a scared demon to tremble silently in his own lab.

"I know you're particularly interested in this one human man on Earth." The ruler of the Wrath Ring circled around him, his tail flicking under Ludwig's chin, curling ever so often to emphasize his point.

At this point, the doctor's eyes was screwed shut, eyesbrows furrowed, a slight grimace on his lips and a bead of sweat slid down the side of his head.

"I'll give you a chance to meet this man," Satan stepped away from Ludwig, letting the doctor breath out a sigh he was holding. "In return, you get his soul for me. Deal?"

"Ja!" Ludwig's voice sounded strained and he was shaking uncontrollably. His hands clenched to the sides of his coat, glasses crooked to one side with a wide smile plastered on his face. The sudden agreement shocked Satan for a moment or two before the feeling of satisfaction swelled in his chest.

Satan nodded and signaled for Ludwig to follow, which he did. It was a silent walk to his office, the clicking of dress shoes and boot heels against the tiled floor echoed through the halls. When they reached the office, Satan pushed the door open and offered for Ludwig to enter first, which he gratefully took.

"Now, Ludwig, I won't just let you go to Earth by yourself. You have to remain in contact with Hell so I'll send you some assistance." Satan explained, snapping his fingers and making Mikhail's file appear in his hand.

As he looked over his personal information, Ludwig was transfixed on the camera monitor. Both of his elbows propped up on the table with his chin in a bloody gloved hand, a loop side grin on his face as he stared at the mortal man on the screen.

Satan was sure half of all the things he just said fell to deaf ears when Ludwig let out a rather too dreamy sigh. Deciding steer the topic to the doctor's favor, Satan dropped the file next to him and let the doctor look over it freely.

"Why do you find this human interesting, anyhow?" Satan asked, a finger pointed directly at the screen.

"Vell, I can't tell you everything but if put simply: he's an interesting specimen." Ludwig emphasize the word 'specimen' with a grin on his face. Looks like he craves more than just attention from this human. He wants his body in a experimental and sexual way, Satan can only assume.

It didn't take long for Satan to introduce Ludwig with his new colleagues. The first of them was a demon from the Lust Ring named Spy. Satan didn't elaborate with the doctor on why he was named that way and Ludwig didn't bother asking. With the development in the human world, Spy took on the French accent to appear more seductive and romantic.

Spy showed up in the office with gray smoke surrounding him. When the smoke cleared out, Spy was shown to wear a blue pinstripe suit with a matching tie. His face was covered by a matching color ski mask and an unlit cigarette loose between his lips.

Unlike Ludwig, Spy was a Hellborn, meaning he was created and existed in Hell for longer than Ludwig had. While the German doctor could change his appearance with some difficulties because he fell from Heaven and became a sinner, Spy is completely adapted to his form and can no longer change it.

Spy had greyish blue skin, snake eyes and glimmering black scales that covered nearly half of his body. Whenever he opens his mouth to adjust, throw away his already used cigarette or to light another one, a glimpse of sharp fangs can be seen that are similar to those of a snake. His hair is unknown to the doctor because of the ski mask over, but Spy claimed it to be black with some grey hairs.

The second one belonged to the Wrath Ring with an unusual obsession with fire.

Originally, he had been created and had lived in the Envy Ring for about three decades. But due to the many misuses of fire and Levithan couldn't handle babysitting them for much longer, a transfer was made for a permanent change to the Wrath Ring.

It wasn't much of a struggle to move the fire demon when they realize the Wrath Ring will be much better than the Envy Ring. Most demons wouldn't want to be transfer to another because it will take several years for them to adapt to both environment and appearance.

Satan described them as an arsonist with an unhealthy attachment to all things fire when they arrived in the Wrath Ring. He would constantly try to burn several magazines in one day or start a fire within the office. Of course, no one really got hurt from all the burning but it was still an nuisance to try and stop them from doing so.

"I will let you meet him privately. They don't have a good connection with Spy." Satan said, a hand hovering over the small of Ludwig's back and lending him to where he was supposed to meet this demon. "Its name is Pyro if you must know. Don't refer it to anything else or try to give him a name."

The German doctor wondered why Satan switches constantly between pronounces. At first, he referred to the demon as a girl. Later on, however, Satan called the demon a 'they' and then a 'he'. At some point, the fire demon was called an 'it' either out of despise or something else.

The room that Satan led him to seemed to be a small flat that he had never seen before. All workers of Satan usually have their own living space, but Ludwig and some others were a special case so they have a place to live built by Satan himself. This room, Ludwig assumed, is new and he had a feeling like this wasn't the first room that the fire demon was assigned to.

"Uh, hello zhere." Ludwig said when he first came face to face with the arsonist.

Pyro was so much more different than Ludwig initially thought. They wore a thick gas mask over their head with a red hazmat suit. Their voice came out in muffles that Ludwig didn't really understand, so they decided to write down anything they want to say on a thick notepad. In the room with Pyro - besides accommodation furnitures - were several burned magazines and papers, a glittery unicorn backpack and their hand made flamethrower.

The curious thing about Pyro is that they don't have any visible demon features. No horns, no tails visible. They almost looked human to Ludwig. No features that indicate which Ring they belonged to, either.

"Come on, I don't have all day." Spy said, his French accent thick against his ear. In the room, Pyro stood up, grabbed his backpack and his flamethrower. Ludwig turned around with a surprised look on his face but didn't say anything. He didn't expect Spy to be that close to him, but he's in no position to complain.

Soon, the three of then returned to Satan's office with everything prepared.

"I hope you three got acquainted with each other. You won't get to stay on Earth for long, maybe a year or two at best." Satan snapped his finger and another door appeared in the office.

Unlike the entrance door to the office that is made of oak wood, this one was made of light birch wood with a silver knob. Ludwig can only assume this was his way to Earth.

"Spy will guide you as he had been to Earth several times to carry out his duties." Satan said, giving Spy a firm pat on the shoulder.

Pyro opened the birch door and entered the human world first, leaving the other two behind either follow him or to talk to Satan for a while.

"Watch out for the angels." Satan warned them, then he turned away and disappeared. Ludwig often witness him doing that but now it just seems dramatic.

To Ludwig's surprise, he ended up in a white space between Earth and Heaven when he gone through the door. Pyro was sitting above the doorway to Heaven, swaying and kicking their feet with muffled laughter. Spy leaned against the doorway to Earth, a lit cigarette in his mouth and a smile on his face.

"Let's go docteur, we have work to do." Spy stated plainly, walking towards the doorway to Heaven. Pyro jumped down from on top, grabbed Ludwig's hand and dragged him along.

Heaven is, as everyone is aware of, a holy place that can rid of any unholy aspects from any being. Heaven's consecrated ground can burn through a demon's skin quite easily and leave irreversible scars upon their body.

But due to the many times the Rulers of Hell had to come and discuss 'business' with the Archangels, some more intelligent demons created ways for them to enter Heaven without being obliterated completely. Unfortunately, Ludwig wasn't a part of that project at the time.

Spy's dress shoes clicked against the pristine white tiles, leaving small cracks on the floor. The smoke from his cigarette curling in the air slowly, spreading around and evaporating. Pyro's boots left dark stains on the floor and Ludwig's boots left trails that looked burned in. For good measure, their foot wear aren't burning off, but it shows that they're demons and not holy beings. There are always ways to prevent this from happening but Ludwig didn't have time to prepare.

"Vhat kind of business do ve have here anyvay?" Ludwig asked, walking close by Pyro's side as she skipped along. All around them were white pristine walls, with golden decorations and pearls. Large windows surrounded the place that give view to a golden lined city underneath. From Ludwig's understanding, down there is where all the people that became angels live. But Ludwig had never been down there or came in contact with those angels.

Spy took his cigarette out of his mouth and pressed the butt against the wall, leaving an ugly burned mark waiting to be discovered by the angels. Pyro mumbled something to Spy but it didn't look like the lust demon gave mind to it.

"We're here to discuss with an angel, obviously." Spy said as if it was obvious. "We demons needs to perform some rituals of our own before entering Earth's atmosphere. The angels can come and go as they pleased." Pyro grumbled at the mention of the angels being able to freely enter Earth.

The whole situation became clear to the doctor.

They're either here to kidnap an angel or tempt them into giving them access to Earth. And he's really hoping that it was the former.

As the round a corner, a young angel in a light baby blue uniform poofed into existence in front of Spy. Ludwig took two steps back and pulled Pyro behind him. Spy didn't give much of a reaction other than an awkward flinch.

He had a young and oval shaped face, brownish blond hair that were cut short and bunny like front teeth. His uniform indicate that he was one of the regular angels that usually get sent to Earth to make blessing. Ludwig had rarely interact with the low class angels but he does routine checks on them sometimes. Like angels, some demons also have free will to come to Earth. Not them, though.

Spy could come and go as he pleased, but he can't take anyone else with him other than his equipments. Pyro was deemed to risky to come to Earth, and Ludwig wasn't fully mentally prepared to go through the procedure.

The young angel looked awfully cheerful to see a couple of demons in the realm of holiness. But as soon as his eyes landed on Spy, his smile fell and his expression became more neutral.

"Whatcha three demoms doing here? Don't cha know that it's basically forbidden?" He asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. Ludwig didn't know whether to be afraid of his old colleagues catching sight him or to be glad that an angel isn't oblitetating them on sight.

Pyro cheerfully waved at the young angel and muffled a few words to him. Unfortunately, the baby face angel did not understand anything and was left staring at Pyro with a confused look. The angel eventually looked over Spy's shoulder and a frown appeared on his face.

"Ya gonna have taken clean that up. I'm not cleaning your mess." He said, a finger pointing at the stains left in the floor accusingly.

Spy sighed and pulled the angel by the shoulders close to him. "Listen, Jeremy, do me a favor and not tell your superior about us."

It wasn't much of a command but the angel reluctantly agreed without any complaints. Spy and the angel started talking in whispers, occasionally sighing audibly.

Pyro then pulled out his notepad from his glittery backpack and scribbled down something with a blue pen. When he was done, it was shown to be an explanation on how Spy know the angel that is named Jeremy so well.

Apparently, from what Ludwig can read, Spy and Jeremy were both from Hell once. Jeremy was a sinner and Spy was a Hellborn. They had a close father and son relationship with each other until one day, Jeremy was miraculously redeemed and brought to Heaven.

Ever since then, they have been sending each other letters about their own lives. Jeremy said Heaven was much better than Hell and that Spy lied to him about Heaven being full of arrogant angels.

"Alright, gentlemen, I've strike a deal with Jeremy." Spy announced, fixing his tie and dusting his suit as Jeremy shrugged and walked away. Ludwig watched the young angel leave, wondering just how long he had been in Heaven if Spy had been in Hell longer than him.

"Let us make haste, gentlemen." Spy started walking in a direction that was familiar with Ludwig. "We don't have all day to get you to Earth, Ludwig."

"Ja, I know." Responded Ludwig as he made sure Pyro was catching up before picking up his pace to keep up with Spy.

•~•~•~•

This took way longer than I'd like to admit.

Part two won't be coming any sooner but do trust me that there will be a part two.

[c-h-e-r-r-i-e-s]

I saw this fan art a few months ago and wrote a whole ass fanfic about him lol drawn by @blackwhitefeatherart

He would absolutely love a satin dress on his gf.. like absolutely that’s his type.

Anyway! Here’s the ao3 link too

NSFW below the cut.

Suguru 🖤

Dinner with me tonight?

You

Sure, should I dress up?

Suguru 🖤

Yes 😉

Love you doll

Your boyfriend Geto Suguru had big plans to take you out to dinner but that was before you answered the door.

You were getting ready for the date and slipped on a satin red dress. Tying the lace up back so it fit your hips just right.

You slid your gold hoop earrings in and checked your hair, adjusting the clip in it as the door bell rang.

You hurried downstairs and opened the door.

Geto turned to you and his face turned to shock. Hands moving instinctually to your hips.

“Oh my god you are too much”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you leaned in for a quick kiss

He made you do a little spin so he could see you fully. Dragging his hand along the skin your dress was showing as you spun.

“Wow I don’t think we’ll be getting to dinner any time soon,” he joked. His lips pressed on yours softly his hands guiding you back to the wall of your hallway. Pushing your hips further back, he deepened the kiss one hand coming up to your neck and his thumb harshly pushing your chin up.

He hummed into your mouth with a grin spreading across his face.

“You’re definitely not leaving my sight this evening beautiful.” His eyes lingered on your face.

“Fine by me” you smirked in response.

Geto was beautiful. You took stock of your boyfriend as you walked out to his car, white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Black jeans and shoes. His tattoos snaking up his arms. You hadn’t been together long and his only somewhat familiar tattoos were making your eyes linger.

“Like what you see?” He teased.

“Maybe” you looked at him through your lashes.

Your stomach flipped as he opened your door and kissed the back of your hand.

You walked into the restaurant and he brought you up to a high top booth at the bar.

You slid in after him and his arm rested behind you on the booth. His fingers just ghosting your back.

You could feel a few women staring at Geto as you walked by and sat. Even now you could feel eyes on him making you suddenly possessive.

You scooted a little closer and let your hand move to his thigh.

Smiling at him sweetly, “everyone’s staring at you. Do you ever get used to it?”

“Yes” he said plainly.

He leaned into you and lowly said, “put on a show for them.”

A request and a question at the same time.

He kissed your neck slowly letting his lips ghost over your skin, making you heat up a little at the thought of people watching him do this to you.

You letting him do this in public.

The waiter approached and offered water, clearly intimidated by the display.

“Yes please” Geto straightened up. “And a bottle of white wine.”

Once the waiter walked away Geto grabbed your hand and moved it further up his thigh.

“If you’re going to claim me then do it.”

“Okay” was all you could manage and testing the boundaries you leaned in for a kiss. Letting your lips hover over his and then pressing your mouths together, full tongue on display for everyone.

Pulling back, “how was that?” you ask him

“Much better,” the end of his lips tugged up. You could feel how hard he was even though you weren’t touching him yet. Your hand was just close enough to feel the strain on his pants.

“We’re going to have to leave early if you keep that up.”

“Oh keep what up?” You pretended to not understand him.

Your finger started twirling a lock of his hair around.

He laughed darkly, “you’re going to get yourself into all sorts of trouble tonight beautiful. This is more entertaining than the night we met, and you know how that went.” He gave you a salacious grin.

Memories of him pounding into you while your face was pressed into his mattress.

The thought made you clench your thighs together and you could feel yourself get wet.

The wine was left on the table, opened and 2 glasses were poured.

Geto made sexy eyes at you that made you laugh after the waiter left.

Sipping from your wine you could still feel eyes on you and Geto. It’s not that you weren’t used to attention this was just a different level than usual.

He noticed you drift off and his hand brushed the hair off your shoulder and slid slowly around the back of your neck.

“You seem distant tonight. Are you okay?”

“Yeah I just need a few more drinks to get over people staring.”

“Let them, we’re beautiful if they want to stare let them.”

Oozing the false confidence your boyfriend lent you, you slid closer. “Let’s get our food to go. Please!”

“Okay” he looked down at you with a curious grin. “Anything for you”

His hand tipped your chin up and he placed a sweet kiss on your lips. His eyes hinted at more.

Geto had a really nice car and it always made you feel so luxurious riding in it. The cream leather under your back.

Teasingly Geto pushed the hem of your dress up and started sliding his hand up your thigh.

Your hand moves up to the nape of his neck and a sigh left your lips.

“Oh princess I’m just getting started with you tonight.” Without even looking at you he stated “you better not have plans tomorrow”

“Why?” You were a tad confused

Then his eyes glanced to yours

“Because I’m going to ruin you tonight”

You were soaking at that, thighs pressed together with getos hand still in between them.

“Oh someone is needy”

He tsked at you sliding his hand further up letting the tips of his fingers brush your panties.

He could feel the wetness coming from you and you couldn’t help but flush.

“That pretty cunt is going to be mine as soon as we walk in your door.”

His fingers dipped below your panties and his pinky finger started running the slick up and down.

“Suguru stop toying with me”

You didn’t mean it and he knew it. Pleased with himself he lightly kept brushing your sensitive folds.

Pulling up to your home, Geto opened the car door, a gentleman as always, even though his hands were just up your skirt the whole car ride home.

As your apartment door shut behind you, he pressed you greedily into the wall; his breath on your cheek.

“Now where were we my love?”

“Fuck” you wined and threw your head back. The ‘love’ rolling off his tongue made your stomach flutter.

“You really know how to tease me” he murmured into your ear.

“I know how to tease you?”

“Yes” he said plainly.

“No no, I didn’t just have my hands down your pants”

His hands cupped your ass.

“No but I’m about to change that” his eyes darkened.

His lips crashed into yours And his hands pulled your dress up at the hips.

His needy hands grabbing at your thighs, you know his fingers are going to bruise you. his lips move to your neck and he pants in your ear.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow. This dress is never leaving your closet and you can only wear it when I say. I cannot have plans the day after you wearing this. Good god I’m going to ruin that pussy”

His hands were holding you up and his hips were rolling into yours your underwear drenched at his admission.

“Suguru please let me suck you”

“Oh my god you’re such a slut. Youre my little slut”

You wrapped your arms around his neck tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck

Your legs wrapping around his waist

He carried you up the stairs and into your bedroom. Not even making it to the bed he laid you out on the floor. Pushing your dress up to your waist again he ripped your underwear off breaking one side of the g string, tossing them aside carelessly.

“I’ll buy you 100 more just so I can rip them off you” he purred.

You were bracing yourself as he put his hands on you knees parting them so he could move between them. His hand slid up between your breasts and pushed you back on the floor.

His tongue began making obscene sounds against your clit. The tip of his tongue drug down to your entrance and made circles before it went inside you. Lapping up every bit of wetness you let out.

You let out an moan and start rocking your hips against his tongue desperate for friction. He reached around and rested an arm over you pinning you to the ground.

“Still so needy tonight”

You let out a whine.

He brought a finger to your entrance and just as he started to push in he pulled it out.

“I’m not sure if you want it enough. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“No please Geto I want it”

“Ohhh Geto is it?”

“No wait suguru please please I need it. I need you”

“Need me? Needy needy”

He plunged two fingers inside you all the way to the knuckle

Curling his fingers upward.

His muscled arm moved his fingers in and out at an unrelenting pace.

“Touch yourself”

Your hand did as it was told and circled your clit. The touch causing almost immediate release, your hips lifting off the floor and Sugurus fingers slowing. He brought his fingers up to his lips.

“I always forget how incredible you taste”

He placed a kiss to your lips softly, his hands snaking behind your back as they easily untied your dress straps.

Your fingers worked to undo the buttons of his shirt and push it off his shoulders.

His lips moving to your neck leaving a red spot that will definitely bruise tomorrow.

His hand grabbed the top of your dress and pulled it down exposing your chest.

His lips moved to your nipple sucking it into his mouth and nipping on it.

He stood up and removed his pants, you got to your knees and started teasing the tip of him.

“Can I?”

He grabbed your chin bringing you to his cock. At that you brought your hands up and took him in your mouth, running your tongue up and down the underside of him.

He threw his head back in absolute pleasure.

Taking him deeper in your mouth he hit the back of your throat causing you to gag.

Hearing you choke on him made him groan and he removed you from his cock.

“Lay back” he demanded.

He got to his knees and bunched your dress up around your waist.

He teased your clit with his tip,

“Are you going to scream for me love?”

“Yes”

“Good girl”

He slid inside you and could feel your walls clench around him.

“Fuck you feel so good”

“Fuck me” you said as a groan. A devilish grin reached across his face. He leaned down to kiss your lips and cooed, “With pleasure”

You got so wet at that. He pulled your bunched dress in his hand tight and began slamming into you, the dress acting as a handle m. Your body rising up to meet his.

Your chest bounced as he fucked you.

“God you’re so perfect. I can’t believe I get to have you like this”

His pace was fast and ruthless. It made you feel like the world was melting away. Your head spinning as he fucked you.

“Suguru I feel so full oh my god. Please come inside me”

His eyes met yours as his hips began to get sloppy. Pulling you tight against him using the dress his hips slammed into you as he came, keeping his hips pressed to you as hard as possible.

You could feel him releasing into you his cock pulsing. Suguru pulls out and presses his body to yours kissing you.

“Are you okay beautiful?”

You just smile and nod. Grabbing his face you pull him closer to you and whisper “I want you again, please Suguru I’m still turned on.”

Give me a minute please love and I’ll give you what you want.

He laid on the floor next to you catching his breath. You unzipped your dress at the side seam and started to shimmy out of it.

Geto rolls to his side slowly letting his fingers brush your body.

His hands appreciating every curve of you, fingers tracing the underside of your boob. And tracing the indent at the center of your body down to your cunt.

Teasingly he ghosted his fingers down your legs and up to your center letting his fingers tips linger at the spot where your legs met your hips.

You rolled to your back and let your legs drop open for him allowing him better access to what you wanted.

“Fuck suguru you’re incredible”

You leaned your head to the side and begged “please touch me”

His finger dipped to your entrance

“Oh my god love you’re dripping for me”

His finger languidly drawing circles around your entrance every so often bringing your wetness over your clit. Letting yourself enjoy the slow motions you close your eyes.

Geto notices your eyes are closed and leaned over taking your nipple in his mouth. Letting it go with a pop.

His mouth found yours and his tongue pressed against yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck. You fill your lungs so your nipples touch his bare chest.

He lets a moan out against your lips.

“Teasing me now?”

“Yes” you smirked.

He situated himself between your legs and glided his cock on your wet slit. Payback for the move you pulled.

“You really are a slut for me. You’re so wet”

He slowly pushed in you this time going at a glacial pace. Making sure you feel every inch. His hair falling out of the half up bun it was in.

Hold on love don’t move. He stilled his hips but didn’t pull out.

He grabbed his hair and expertly twirled it back into a bun. As he was tying it back up you pushed your body closer to him burying his cock deeper inside you. Rocking your hips slowly you made eye contact. A chuckle left his lips.

“Oh you’re going to pay for that love.”

“I plan on it” you said raising an eyebrow at him.

He grabbed your hips.

Oh fuck.

He started moving in and out of you slamming your hips to his each time.

“My ass is going to bruise so bad”

“Good”

His hands moved to the floor on either side of you picking up his pace you felt heat rising in you.

“Fuck yes Suguru, Keep going.”

He obliged and started fucking you harder.

The pleasure on his face and a bead of sweat dropped from him on to your chest.

“God you’re so sexy when I’m fucking you”

“Harder p-please”

Your cum dulling the friction and you wanted to feel him. He slammed into you harder you grabbed his hips for stability, a moan spilling from your lips.

“Fuck suguru harder”

His next thrust had you arching your back as your whole body slid across the rug.

His hips chased you again and again until you were almost under the bed.

His arms cupped under your shoulders to keep you from sliding any farther. Heat built in you again, Suguru moved his thumb to your clit and circled a few times.

His mouth was on you neck and your hands were grasping his back. Pressing into his flesh to keep him inside you.

Both of you holding on to the other

“Fuck I’m gonna cum he said”

“Not yet please”

You moved your finger to your clit and after just a few passes you came. Your mouth going slack he chased his own high and came inside you again.

His body landing on top of you. His soft hands pushing the hair back off of your face. Sweet kisses being peppered on your lips and cheek.

He rolled to the side and held you. Stroking you hair while the cum on your legs dried.

Letting you both have a moment, he stayed inside you going soft and sticky. He stroked you hair and kissed your forehead.

Your leg around his waist was limply draped and he trailed his fingers tenderly over your thighs and calves.

Finally he started to slowly pull out and the dry sticky mess adding to the sensuality of it, you thought you were going to orgasm again as he did this.

“Ahh m.. m .. I love when you do that Sug.”

“I know it’s incredible for me too.”

Opening your legs you let the cool air hit your sore throbbing lips.

“I probably look like such a mess”

Suguru rolls over to you and kisses you cheek.

“You, my love, look thoroughly fucked.”

“We need water”

You feign trying to get up. Your legs not even twitching.

“I know where your kitchen is, I can get it.”

Geto walks fully naked to your kitchen and returns with a glass of water.

“Come on love off the floor.”

He reaches over you and turns down the comforter. Picking you up bridal style and lays you on the bed under the covers. Then joins you.

Throwing your arm over his waist and nuzzling your head on his chest you can still feel the wine from earlier buzzing through your head. Geto continues to stroke you hair and the comfort makes your eyes close.

Then there’s a cold wet feeling at your shoulder.

“Drink my love. Or you’ll have a nasty hang over.” He chuckles sweetly.

“Thanks,” you weakly take the glass of water and drink it half way down.

“Oh my god it’s only like 10 o’clock.”

Geto turns to you “and? Isn’t that early for you?”

“Yes but it’s too early to feel this way. I thought you weren’t supposed to get this fucked until like 2am.”

“Well it just gives us more time later then.”A mischievous grin on his face. “But for now you can rest, just know I’m not quite done with you.”

He looked so beautiful with your white covers pulled up around his waist. Abs flexing, still slightly shining from the exertion earlier.

“What if we went and had a drink downstairs? I could stand to loosen up a bit more. I had an exhausting week at work.” You suggested.

“Oh feeling a little spicy tonight?”

“Yes I thought you could tell earlier. Also those mozzarella sticks are calling my name.”

He just sweetly smiles and chuckles

“Okay let’s go then.”

He goes and grabs the silk robes he bought you both after the first night he stayed over.

You stand up and put it on tying it at the waist not bothering to put on any thing else, you were both probably going to sleep naked anyway.

Downstairs you grabbed the take out bag that was still be the door.

After popping the mozzarella sticks in the air fryer and Geto eating his salad you poured one more glass of wine.

Sitting at the bar of your kitchen island Geto cleaned his dishes and yours while you were sipping. Generally chatting about your week at work and how you were still deciding how you felt about your new coworker.

Taking a bite of your food the cheese fell out onto to plate.

Geto chuckled “are you having a bit of trouble there?”

“No” I scowled playfully.

He hummed and agreed when necessary at your conversation. Always happy to hear about your life and all the things he didn’t know about you yet.

As you got a little further into your last glass of wine for the night, you couldn’t help your eyes darting to the robe your boyfriend was wearing and how it cut a v all the way down past his belly button. How chiseled he was. How badly you needed him again. How his eyes shined when he spoke. And how his lips moved in the dim glow of the under cabinet lighting. You got up and wrapped your arms around his waist placing the softest kiss to his cheek.

He placed a hand on your face, thumb stroking your cheek bone gently.

“You’re beautiful you know that?”

This made you flush a little at how someone like him could truly think that.

“Thank you and thank you for doing the dishes.”

He kissed you at that.

“My pleasure love.”

He kissed you again and backed you up to the counter. Playfully he pinned you and put both hands around you so you couldn’t escape (not like you wanted to).

You placed an innocent kiss to his neck and looked into his eyes.

The look he gives you takes your breath away. Like he wants to crawl inside your skin and make you his home. Like the rest of the world didn’t exist for him. Like he could devour you.

His hands stayed on the counter and he leaned into you. Hips already pressing against you, he slowly pulled your robe to the side and his thumb began circling your nipple.

You sucked in a breath and threw your head back.

His mouth moved to your neck this time and the hand not playing with your breast moved to cup your nape.

You could feel your self getting wet again and your knees buckled. Your full body weight pinned between Suguru and the counter.

He moved to kiss your mouth and let his tongue sweep in. His hand split your robe beneath the tie. Letting his fingers dip into your core he brought them out dripping and put them on your tongue. Reaching down again he brought your wetness up but to his mouth this time. You could feel how hard he was getting, his robe not leaving anything to the imagination.

He suddenly flipped you around and pushed your body over the counter. moving to his knees he placed a kiss on your folds. His tongue licking right up the center. Doing rings around your entrance he plunged his tongue into you and pushed his face as close to your body as possible. The saliva and juices mixing together, he dragged his face on your ass cheek and looking over your shoulder you could see him use a thumb to clean his mouth.

He was graceful even when people weren’t looking and that made you so turned on.

He stood up and moved his dick against your wet cunt and your clit. You were so overstimulated at this point but you couldn’t stop your hips from moving against him.

He leaned over you pressing your exposed breasts onto the cold counter.

“Im addicted to your pussy love. I can’t get enough. And it seems you can get enough if me either. Do you want me to fuck you in this kitchen where your neighbors can see? The blinds are open and I know they can see us.”

You looked over. It was dark out which meant your neighbors could definitely see what was happening.

You could feel your walls clench around nothing and Suguru pulled your robe completely off you.

“Do you like the idea of people being able to see me fuck you? To see my cock slide in and out, having people know I’m claiming you.”

He rutted against you again teasing your clit. His hand slid up your neck wrapping it around you lightly. Continuing to rub his tip against your clit.

“You are such a dirty little slut.” His words whisper in your ear so sweetly.

“You’re just filthy and you’ll let me do anything I want to you. How did I get so lucky?” He was still teasing your clit but had moved his hand to press you down against the counter fully.

“I’m going to fuck you senseless”

“Yes please suguru I need it”

“Oh my god” came out as a groan from him.

He pushed 2 fingers in your swollen pussy. Letting them slowly glide in and out. “Fuck you’re so wet again. That’s all you.” He ran his fingers along your side smearing your slick along your body.

“Beg for me love”

“Please suguru. Please I need to feel you.”

“Feel me what?”

“Feel you inside me. I neeeed it, pretty please”

His fingers kept pumping in and out slowly.

He placed kisses all up and down your back. You whined as his fingers exited you leaving you feeling empty.

Then his tip came to tease you again. Running it from your clit to your entrance. He slowly pushed his tip inside you and back out rubbing it up to your clit again.

Then pushing fully inside you he began moving his hips, his hand on your nape keeping you pressed to the counter that was warm now.

“Suguru ahh. Your feel fucking incredible”

“My good little slut complimenting me?”

“Yes”

“Good girl.” He growled out.

You could see his dark hair falling around him and god he looked like something plucked straight from your dreams.

“Do I now?” His voice breaking your thoughts.

“What?”

“You’re speaking dear.”

“Shit did I say …. that out loud?”

His relentless pace was going to leave more bruises on your hips.

“I didn’t mean to”

He smiled and slowed for a moment smacked your ass cheek leaving a large hand print.

Gripping your hips a little closer to him and off the counter he started getting sloppy.

At the contact with him you began to feel yourself shake.

“Suguru I’m gonna come again”

He pulled your hair in one bunch off your back and continued fucking you.

“Come on my cock I want to feel you.”

At his words you let go. A moan coming out of your mouth. Your legs were shaking.

“Suguru, can’t stand.”

He put hands on your hips and fucked you through his own climax. Letting his come slide down your legs as he held you.

He carried you into the bathroom and started the bath.

“You’re too good to me.”

He twisted his hair up into a bun completely and let the robe he was still wearing slide into the floor. You swung your legs over the edge of the bath tub and put them in the water, letting yourself slide into the warm bath.

“Suguru please join me.” He returned with towels and set them on the counter. Sliding in behind you he wrapped his arms fully around your body. Your head falling to one of his shoulders and heads pressed together.

“You were right suguru I don’t think I’ll be able to walk tomorrow.”

“I know beautiful.”

[helenadurazzo]

Waltzing in the Undercroft

Just a little story about two love birds escaping the crowds of the Great Hall together for the next generation following the events of Hogwarts Legacy

“I see that you agree that this winter ball is growing to be quite crowded.” Gilda heard a familiar voice remark as Thomas Hearst walked to where she stood, leaning against the cold stone walls of a corridor just outside of the Great Hall, where they could still hear the music being played.

Gilda could not deny that Thomas looked especially charming in his perfectly white suit with sparkly embroidery of snowflakes on the ends of the sleeves, coat, and pants, only disturbed by a pitch black tie. His brown hair was neatly combed yet still remained the charm of its usual state from where he studied for hours on a new book on the history of magic, or examined a new gift from his mother’s own researches.

“I have never been one for this sort of thing.” Gilda admitted, even though she did like the elegance of fancy dresses, such as the long periwinkle one she wore now with sleeves reminiscent of a butterfly or moths wing.

“Perhaps we should go on a stroll, or visit a place less crowded.” Thomas advised, “If there is one thing I know, it’s that Hogwarts is practically empty when a social event is going on, a keen moment for leisurely discoveries.

Gilda’s silvery eyes lit up at the thought, “I know just the place, I can’t believe I have never taken you here before, but you’ll love it. Come on, it’s just this way, near the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom.”

Gilda did not pay attention to the length of the walk as she walked rather slowly, enjoying the company of her Slytherin classmate. After all, she had known Thomas and his brothers ever since they were children, with her father wanting her to have good relations with them like he had with Thomas’ own father, Phineas Hearst, a prominent wizard in the field of ancient runes and magic who made quite the interesting discoveries, even an ordinary person would be intrigued to hear about.

She and Thomas had always been close, being the same age and as such starting Hogwarts the same year. In fact they could have been in the same house as the sorting hat considered Gilda for Slytherin due to her ancestry and Ravenclaw for Thomas due to his naturally bookish nature, yet Gilda was placed with the eagles while Thomas resided with the snakes. However they still saw each often, due to their nearly identical schedules involving a numerous amount of shared classes, even as fifth years like they currently were, one of these classes was almost always Defense Against the Dark Arts, another reason why Gilda tried to figure out why she never showed him the secret door just down the stairs from the classroom.

“A dead end?” Thomas assumed as he walked with her towards the windows. “Although I must admit it is a charming place in its own right.”

“Not quite.” Gilda gave him a look with a clever glint in her grey eyes as she turned to the wardrobe with clocks covered along it and used her wand to shift the hands of the clock, just like her father instructed her just before she boarded the train to get to Hogwarts before her first year officially began. And thus, allowing the wardrobe to open the reveal the secret door and another winding staircase, “Follow me.” Gilda instructed, “It’s not too much further down this path.”

“This place is remarkable.” Thomas breathed as they entered the room that was dimly lit by torches. It was untouched since Gilda last used the space to study for her Transfiguration Exam and avoid her stressed out dormmates. “You found this place one day I presume.”

“Not exactly.” Gilda admitted, fully trusting one of her longest companions, she knew full well Thomas would not go blabbering around about this place like so many others. “It lay abandoned for centuries until my Great Aunt Noctua found it and she told my father about it. He used it as his own personal retreat to practice spells and studies, or when he simply needed an escape from the professors as not even they knew about this place. In fact, he would often hang out in her with your father and the Sallow Siblings they were friends with to play games of all sorts. He once told me when he was learning how to cast Confringo, he singed Sebastian Sallow’s eyebrows right off, it took forever for them to grow back.”

“I heard my father and his friends had a hideout but he never told me where.” Thomas smiled before turning to Gilda, “Do not worry, I will not say a word, I assume this place was special to your father, as it is to you.”

“I know you will.” Gilda gave him a knowing smile. “I cannot imagine my father’s reaction if I told him a place that was so dear to him was lost because of a foolish placement of trust. You’re the first person I have told about this place after all.”

“As I said, you can trust me.” Thomas stepped forward with his charming smile that made Gilda lightly blush before he turned his head, “What about this triptych over here?”

Gilda turned her head and followed him over to the wall where the magnificent piece of work stood with three painted panels. It almost felt as someone should have been standing there, but due to the light amount of damage Gilda assumed it was possible.

“I don’t know much about it to be honest, my father never told me about this and I did not bother to ask him.” Gilda informed him, “Perhaps the next time I can ask the Sallows if they know anything since it does look to be some area in the Scottish Highlands, and they know the area better than anyone.”

“My father did mention traveling through various hamlets with his friends on his weekends at Hogwarts.” Thomas noted. “Perhaps we could explore the area sometime, it looks breathtaking with that serene water and magnificent rolling of the hills in the background.”

“Well your parents did always say the world was meant to be traveled and explored.” Gilda chuckled.

“That they did.” Thomas confirmed. “Adventure is out there after all, perhaps we could go together someday?” Thomas extended his hand out to her.

“I would love that.” She placed his hand in his, pulling herself closer to him and kissing him on the cheek while standing on her tip toes.

Thomas seemingly could not help but give her a contagious smile, “Would you care to dance?” He asked her with the wave of his wand which lit up the candles of the chandelier with glowing lights and made the already present torches seem just a bit brighter. His skill in charmwork was always so enchanting that Gilda could watch him perform it all day if she was allowed to.

“Gladly.” She beamed right at him, placing her hand on his shoulder as he placed his on her waist before they used this to remaining hands to hold together as they performed the stereotypical steps to the dance, not without a few pleasant surprises and twists along the way, as Thomas did always like to do something unexpected.

Gilda was not the best at dancing but she had to admit that she did feel as if she was getting less tense with her movements the more she practiced, and succeeded more in casual environments rather than formal ones. Thomas was always patient with her, simply laughing lightheartedly with no malice whenever she made an incorrect step. Unlike him, she was not a pure blood and as such, was not expected to attend the events they hosted like Thomas was, having even traveled to France a couple of times for events due to his mother’s family. Her father always wanted to keep her as far away from toxicity of pure blood society as he could, along with dubious dark magic.

“You know, my brother would always prefer to have dates with his girlfriend in the Restricted Section.” Thomas casually commented, “While I cannot see what sort of appeal they found in that dark and disturbing area, I suppose I can see the appeal more so than ever before of having a secret retreat to be alone and sneak into.”

Gilda rather instinctively gave him a look of surprise, “I never took Zacharias to be the romantic type. I know I did not cross paths with him many times, but he always seemed invested in those peculiar independent studies of his, and if not those he was working on some sort of sneaky potions trick with Pietro Mulpepper.”

“You aren’t wrong.” Thomas laughed, “I was surprised to, but I suppose the odd location fits him, surely he means well. After all, our fathers’ friend Sebastian Sallow always enjoying going into the restricted section himself. My father did always say that the title of forbidden made something all the more alluring.”

Gilda supposed he had a bias towards his brother, although he did always seem to not approve of some of his brother’s actions now and then but could not figure out what exactly he was doing. “How is Nicolas doing these days?” She casually shifted the topic.

Thomas seemed more than happy to go away from the increasingly awkward talks of his suspicious older brother, “I am counting down the days until Nicolas finally asks Aurelia Osborn out.”

“Aurelia Osborn?” Gilda repeated, “I don’t believe I recognize the name, is she in his year?”

“A year below him actually.” Thomas corrected, “I am not surprised you don’t know her, she is a Slytherin and she tends to keep to herself, and has had trouble with Thelma Fawley before.”

“The Minister’s Youngest Child?” Gilda clarified herself continuing with Thomas’ nod, “What has Aurelia done to set her off?”

“Not sure, I typically only hear rumors.” Thomas shrugged, “But I know my brother would be happy with her and she with him from the few times I have seen them in the common room.”

Despite her father’s protection, Gilda had heard many stories of pure blood supremacy, many just from learning about her Gaunt ancestors. Luckily she did not come across many of them in the Ravenclaw common room, and very few people even knew she was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin due to her father taking her mother’s last name, the one she was given at birth. She knew that anyone who was not a pure blood in Slytherin likely had trouble but she figured the Osborns were a pure blood family, having recalled someone mentioning a ball they hosted for wealthy pure bloods before once, so unless it was just the Sacred 28 acting entitled again, she was not sure what was going on between the two.

“Hope Peeves does not have a habit of stumbling across this room.” Thomas half-joked, “I can’t stand that poltergeist, always interrupting my studies in the library.”

Gilda shook her head, “Not that I am aware of, I would just suggest it is important to make sure you are not followed and cover your tracks.”

“I would never spoil such a magnificent place for us to sneak off to.” Thomas charmingly smiled. “This place will be our little secret.”

“Of course.” Gilda held him close, and certainly knew that Thomas Hearst would be the one for her.

[simplegenius042]

OCs as aesthetics for the entities

Tagged by @inafieldofdaisies

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @strangefable @deputy-morgan-malone @adelaidedrubman @derelictheretic @g0dspeeed @jillvalentinesday @wrathfulrook @poisonedtruth @voidika @ec-10 @minilev @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @a-rose-in-a-garden-of-weeds @snake-in-the-garden @shallow-gravy and @strafethesesinners

Will be doing a menagerie of characters from The UnTitledverse, Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, Life, Despair & Monsters and Wings And Horns. You can find the post here and similar posts on @sagamemes tumblr in general.

Joaquin Cobalt

i.  THE BURIED.   weighed blankets.  drowning.  the comfort of a loved one’s weight.  soil and sand piling on top of you.  hugging so hard it hurts a little.  cramped hiding spots.  letting out air underwater to sink to the bottom of the pool.  walls pressing in on you.  not moving from a position even though you’re cramping a little.  dragging the last second before you have to inhale.  lonely subways.  feeling like one with the earth.  a layer of dirt on you.  looking for something below.  cardboard boxes and tiny pillow forts.  hands calloused from digging.  knowing that your purpose is just below the surface.  entering your final resting place before it kills you.  a storm drowning you out.  dust and sand speaking to you.

Paul Yellowjack

ii.  THE CORRUPTION.   insects.  a close imitation of the natural course of life.  an illness in a community.  a rag that dirties more than it cleans.  an untreated wound.  containment.  breaching containment.  unbreathable air.  fungi.  one with that you love.  one with what loves you.  a corpse unfit for a glass case.  hearing a song in the sound of tiny wings and legs.  honeycomb patterns.  an ecosystem within a person.  a curse passed on.  the hubris of a scientist.  an ugly death where a glorious one is owed.  blood on a handkerchief.  parasites.  something pushing up the sewer.  a mask to keep something out.  trypophobia.  knowing you belong.  death weeks after impact.  fever.  food that’s gone off.  pandora’s box.  death behind a glass.

Kara Darling iii.  THE DARK.   shadows.  lights that turn off by themselves.  the feel of cold marble.  a beaked creature in the night.  the difference between seeing darkness and seeing nothing.  touch of something you can’t see.  hiding under a blanket.  white, clouded eyes.  months without going outside during sunlight.  pouring dark.  unscrewing lightbulbs.  black matter.  light sensitivity.  a starless night.  time before light was created.  a shadow on the wall without a body to attach to.  withering plants.  a world without a sun.  footfalls in an empty house in the night.  a light that doesn’t reach as far as it should.  desperate reach for a flashlight.  clothes that hide your shape.  staying unperceivable.  winter months in the north.  an empty church

Silva Omar iv.  THE DESOLATION.   senseless pain.  warmth of faith.  wax where skin should be.  a blazing fire.  heat without a source.  the third or fourth tragedy in the family.  losing everything you’ve ever held dear.  so much to live for, gone so soon.  the smell of gasoline.  touch that scars.  coffee cup that never goes cold.  scorch marks on wood.  inescapably warm air.  a child born in fire.  death of a loved one.  a candle without a flame.  an altar in the middle of the woods.  animals with burnt fur.  plastic explosives.  burning hot metal.  sweating in an interrogation room.  never touching a loved one.  disfigurement.  a kiss that ruins you.  the scent of burning fat.  a tattoo that terrifies its viewer.  the agony of hellfire displayed as art.  auburn hair.  little clothing in cold weather.  a ripple in the air.  trying to cool down in vain.

Mario Emmett v.  THE FLESH.   body horror.  factories.  a hunger for something more filling.  never quite happy with how you look.  the terror of an animal waitng for slaughter.  a very good meal.  the liquid of a perfect steak.  fighting your worst survival instincts.  a twisted bone.  long nights working out.  more than one heart.  appearance that shapes like clay.  a bag of bones.  bone broth in a pot.  knowing to fear pigs.  the butcher’s shop.  plastic surgery.  something alien inside your body.  a hunger in the gaze laid upon you.  unwitting cannibalism.  forgetting what you used to look like.  being admired for your appearance and appearance only.  teeth marks on skin.  scars from wounds that should’ve killed you.  cooking in scarcity.  fenced in with one way to go.

Corvus Targaryen vi.  THE END.   the last page of a book.  nightmares that don’t feel like nightmares.  a skeletal hand.  the grip of the grim reaper around your throat.  existential pain.  ivory dice.  flatlining in a hospital.  gambiling with death.  as old as the universe.  soul and spirit tied to an object.  a dream where you die.  closing your eyes for the last time.  the plead of a dying one.  knowing the fate of someone you know and being unable to prevent it.  a thousand cords tugging you towards your end.  skin that’s freezing to the touch.  an act of desperation.  someone’s life for yours.  an eternity spent alive.  the cost of your selfishness.  watching your own burial.  causing your own burial.  the smell of death.  numbness to fear.  words from someone gone.  meaninglessness of the actions or lives of single people in the universe.  multiple near-death experiences you refuse to die from.

Gavin Turquoise vii.  THE EYE.   googling something you shouldn’t have.  eureka moments.  the unforgiving lens of a camera.  witness reports.  hidden libraries.  eyes of different colours.  feeling of being watched.  a death recorded in tape.  a tragedy you can’t watch away from.  endangering yourself for knowledge.  truth.  analog records.  a symbol of an eye.  a watch tower.  compulsion to document.  turning on recording devices without thinking about it.  saving the evidence before the person.  extracting information.  truth or dare, without the dare.  a thirst for knowledge.  books that speak to you.  coordinated shelves.  cataloguing systems.  voyeurism.  police report you can’t put down.  reasoning your way out.  smell of old papers.  books that read you back.

Sonya, "The Apex" viii. THE HUNT. sharp canines. sore calves after a run. the scent of blood. an adventure for the journey’s sake. the adrenaline right before the kill. a whistle’s echo. the woods. the doe eyes of a prey animal. your own breath in the air. sharpened claws. being tracked. fear of someone knowing your every movement. hunting down monsters. hide & seek. running away only to end up where you started. staying alive purely because the enemy enjoys seeing you run. a set of footsteps behind you. blood dripping from bare hands. barks & growls. focused eyes. a victim going limp under your hands. a mouth full of fresh blood. catching the scent of something monstrous. perfecting your craft. peering into the dark & running after it.

Malcrum Darling ix. THE LONELY. an apartment too small for a double bed. completely vacant streets. waking up to see everyone gone. fog. point nemo. a house too big to hear your family members in. alone in a faceless crowd. a mask with nothing behind it. separated cubicles. a deafening silence where joy should be. a blinding spotlight. the least missed in your friend group. streets without lights in the windows. isolation. not truly knowing your friends. your friends not truly knowing you. need for silence. fear of crowds. staring into space knowing nothing is looking back at you. a ship alone at sea. depression. knowing your friends are better off without you. talking to someone only to realise they’re gone. a family too large to notice you there. safety in being alone.

Azriel x. THE SLAUGHTER. a game of tag. senseless violence. a true crime hobby. improvised weapons. blinding rage. intent to kill. a horrific day in a quiet community. a medal of bravery. holding on to what validates your anger. history books that spare no details. an injury you want revenge for. war. counting kills. songs of soldiers. a knifeblock on the counter. a pool of blood. shellshock. unspeakable horrors. anger pushing you forward. unimaginable pain. not seeing who will hurt you but knowing the pain is coming. a fully human monster. an authority sending its lessers to their deaths. kill or be killed. unedited wartime memoirs. a weapons collection. not knowing the names of who you kill. too many to remember. loss of hope. there’s no heroes in war.

Calvin Dearing xi. THE SPIRAL. sleep deprivation. corridors you can get lost in. maze puzzles that loop back on themselves. losing possessions. losing people. losing your sanity. corkscrew curls. rows of funhouse mirrors. optical illusions. a separate reality. walking through the wrong door. delusions. not knowing what your hands are doing. blank spaces in documents. hallucinations. wrong proportions. a nameless thing. a place that has never existed. doubting your own mind. blind faith. losing track of names, labels, categories. distorted sound. an imperfection in a glass that twists the view. loss of time. a garish colour. doors that open to nowhere. lies. an unnatural laugh. jokes & tricks. illusions. a doorway. a sculptor with a wild imagination. limbs in impossible angles. doing what’s fun, not what’s sensible. fractals you can get lost in.

The Court King xii. THE STRANGER. wax figures. a close approximation of a human face. a borrowed appearance. a strange smell. glass eyes. furs & pelts. a dance. a song of a choir. the uncanny valley. stitching yourself together. the colours of a circus. a puppet with no strings. mannequins. glitter & sequin. a stranger you’ve always known. someone strange in the place of someone you knew. stolen identities. stolen skins. a machine imitating humanity. the anonymity of a service worker. hiding in plain sight. uncomfortable to look at. a faked accent. concealing. forgetting who you are. forgetting who others are. a replacement no one notices. images that look posed. the only one seeing the false face of someone.

Haoyu Anabuki xiii. THE VAST. open spaces. carnival rides going up & down. fear of heights. endless infinity around you. your insignificance in an universe. stomach turning at a drop. fear of not the crash down but the moment you slip. the sway of a cable car. an adventure holiday. losing track of where the surface is. miles & miles of nothing around you. staring at the sky & feeling like you may fall into it. loss of control. a fall that doesn’t end in death. glass floor to the view below. terminal velocity. the sound of wind in your ears. a reach over the railing. a jump from the top of the building. falling into nothing. feeling your feet let go of the ground. a leap of faith. motion sickness.

Zachariah, "The Orchestrator" xiv. THE WEB. undecipherable code. a puppeteer holding the strings. power over the weak—willed. strings of fate. manipulation. an arranged accident. a hundred minions doing your bidding. cobwebs. spiders. a laid trap. never voicing discomfort. outwitting a cheater. doing things without realising it. red string across a corkboard. finding something lost where you were sure you checked. power over the unreliability of chance. watching others dance for you. an entangled death. a thousand tiny legs & fangs. shady forum threads. something important gone missing. suspiciously disregarded case. a missing witness. connections. the world wide web. power of victimhood. gullibility. no control over your own decisions. an invisible leash. mass psychology. a horror film in the making. scapegoat. never remembering to ask for a name.

Urijah Callaghan + THE EXTINCTION. the end of an era. apocalypse movies. the alarms of warning systems. a desolate landscape. end of the world cults. nihilism. the last written history. a changed world. no survivors. old prophecies. a thousand predicted ends. a new chapter. an end with no escape. catastrophes. a calendar counting down. breaking point. overindulgence.

[artseadragon]

Like most things I start, the Whispers of Nothing AU has remained in my head, with several unfinished refs sitting on my iPad and a few scattered moments I could hardly call a plot gathering dust in the back of my mind. As a sorry for having this project go the way of the dinosaurs, I figured I’d write/draw what I do have (you probably won’t get full ref sheets because Scar’s was so complex and I realised quickly while working on Gem that I couldn’t keep up that level of detail, but I will draw all the characters I have designs of!)

Speaking of: A bit of writing and a quick Grian sketch under the break!! Have fun :3 My writing isn’t the best after high school and the several year-long break I’ve taken from fics but I’m happy with this.

For all you desertduo lovers, I was listening to Casual by Chappell Roan while writing this. This interaction is so not romantic (only really barely platonic tbh) but I find it very funny

CW FOR MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH AND SOME GENERALLY PRETTY BAD STUFF?? ZOMBIE ADJACENT AU PLEASE BE WARY

It took all of Scar’s strength not to black out then and there as a force came barrelling into him, slamming him against the walls of the skyscraper. Flickering lights and thick sheets of rain turned the world in front of him into a kaleidoscopic whirl.

A dark shape loomed over him, not pinning him to the wall but standing there mutely, its silhouette sharpening into that of a dragon’s as his vision returned. Scar thought he could hear Gem’s voice faintly over the rain, his slowly stretching wings catching on the small cracks running along the wall behind him. The figure stepped closer as Scar choked back a gag, a bar of light shining along its muzzle before it stopped as it hit the dragon’s eyes.

Three moons. It… it can’t be…

Those once dark, sincere eyes were clouded over with white, the mouth that usually bore a sly grin was hanging limply open, the smell of death emanating from him a confirmation of his friend’s fate.

Scar snapped out of his trance and ducked out of the way just as sharp jaws rammed against the wall, scrambling out of the way and making a break for the exit of the city, back to the others. His prosthetics scraped roughly against cobbled streets as he ran against the pelting rain, that damned rain that never seemed to end. He heard his name somewhere in the noise but he kept running even as his legs ached and his leaf speak started failing, away from him and all it stood for or meant.

The hefty gate to Impulse’s city rose with a shudder that vibrated through the ground around it, and Scar slid under it as it had only just began lifting, continuing to run even as worried voices and gentle wings began to pursue him into the depths of the city.

Down. He had to go down. Down below the sewers, there was a river, right? Impulse covered it up but it still flowed underground, it would be clean.

It didn’t take long for him to find a loose manhole, nor a crack in the sever wall leading into the hollows around it. He plunged into the cold water, writhing around as it still didn’t get deep enough. His heavy prosthetics sank in the water, still twitching as the plants around them grew into a dense tangle, beginning to tug at Scar’s hind legs and tail. A wail escaped his mouth, the leafwing finally falling limp in the water, the algae and weeds snaking around his shivering form.

Grian is dead.

And it’s my fault.

———

And the art as promised!! Literally tiny thing but eeeeh this an art acc

[mayaswiterblog]

Me Inside, Me Outside (Homework)

This homework poem was written on 11 April 2019, translated into English on 18 April 2019 and then posted on Wattpad.

Translated Version

The demon out there It spits, it torments The Eyes glow With blood-red flow Sometimes yellow Or even another time With a Green shine

Demonic Moon Ignites Again When not shining It shines For me Warmth or Cold Whatever you feel But the Sun Blinds ye all Just like a magician Mirrors, illusions Do you see it That norm' lie?

They murmur They ponder They build Their own world Their own community You're alone You're odd Friends, treasures Under your wings The blood streams The Sun burns the feathers But the smile never fades Because faith is great When doing it for the greater good

And when others laugh with joy It recharges Anybody's welcome To my magic cave But only the backdoor Is open for a few more And only one life form Is my resource My only treasure

The World is sometimes Very strange Good or Bad An accident can be A good sign Even when it feels bad The good will always find it And change the fate Twisting it so tightly That it hurts But giggle still

In the vast SeaSky There's plenty of star-fish They gleam They shine Big & Small In the depth of that Ocean Another door in motion To another World Through the Roman corridor An enormous library can be found It's big, alright Full of rough drafts Written and drawn About anything and everything Nobody would read them anyway Unless you recommend them Or maybe find them yourself

But even the Water is not Always Peaceful There are all kinds of fish Could be a shark Or even an octopus A Pacific whale A Cute catfish

Who would even Love a monster? Either a stupid hero Or a brave knight

Say one thing Hear another The body's ugly The mind is great Think beyond everything See something else Understand very much But hard to explain A hand and a soul A Spirit of the Art Knowledge & sweet biscuits Ate way too much Without drinking water The thirst pressures The Self-esteem drops

But the smile still stays still 'Cause mum says "Always tolerate the pain It will go away again" "Panicking is the worst Always do your best" "Stay strong, unbend And never trust anyone To the very end."

No one ever cared Beside mum alone Friends came Then left The new came along But only a couple Stayed as life companions

Own people Like Romeo and Juliet Always claim You're not a person You're selfless Altruism reincarnate Who are you? I'm a woman, I'm a small girl Nobody will pay Attention Nobody understands They're gonna get Upset anyway I'm soulless I'm a Soviet robot I always float in the air

Until I found a new cave On the top of another mountain A new folk, a new song I felt the life As if I was a child again Silent like a black cat I observed and studied But I spoke and meowed Like a white kitty cat

The more you stay The easier is to see How tough I am Even if not acknowledge it myself They call for me As if I was A lost poor puss

Now that the sweet ring changes Tune so spiritually deep And so quivering It's scary Ghostly alarming The invisible thundercloud Always floating above the head But I wasn't left alone after all I've got a flower behind my ear Hugs and kisses A Friendship Love Even my laughter echoed at last With such ease, free and loud

And once again I found something insane Like a lucky accident Above the gleaming snow Under the freezing stars That creature right there So bright, so warm Couldn't even believe But it doesn't bother him To the slightest The heart beats, the heart freezes "You're beautiful, you're pretty" And he always says No matter how many times I show him my sharp teeth "You're cute, I wanna love you"

Finally, I am crying The icy walls melt The love is felt I feel myself As a beautiful woman And not anymore As a small room girl I'm able to scream, I'm able to sneer I can neigh now, I can chirp now I purr more, I wind like a snake I'm being myself I found my own tone of voice My heart is strong Because I'm honest with myself I'm humane now And it shows.

ORIGINAL SCRIPT:

Minä sisälta, Minä ulkoa

Demoni siellä Se sylkii, se räkisee Silmät kiiltävät Veren-punaisina Joskus keltaisine, Tai jopa Vihreinä

Demoni Kuu Syttyihän Taas Kun ei pasta Paistaa Se mulla Lämpö tai Kylmyys Mitä vaan tunnet Mutta aurinkohan Sokeuttaa Kuin taikuri Peilit, illusiot Näetkö sen Se normi valhetta?

He supinavat He ajattelevat He rakentavat Oman maailmansa Oman seuransa Olet yksin Olet outo Kaverit, aarteet Siipiesi alla Veri valuu Aurinko polttaa höyheniä Mutta hymyilee aina Koska uskomus on suuri Että muille tekee hyvää

Ja toiset nauravat ilotse Se tuo energiaa Omalle taika luolalle Tervetuloa kuka tahansa Mutta vain takaovi On avoin pari hahmoille Ja vain yksi eliö On voimavarani Ainoa aarteni

Maailma on joskus Tosi ihme Hyvä tai paha Vahinko voi olla Hyvä merkki Vaikka tuntuu pahaa Hyvää löytää sen kyllä Ja muuttaa sen kohtalon Vääntääksen niin kireeksi Että sattuu Mutta nauraa silti

Meritaivaalla on Plajon tähtikaloja Ne kiiltää Ne loistaa Suuria & pieniä Ton meritaivaan syvyydessä Löytyy toinen ovi Toiseen maailmaan Roomalaisen käytävän kautta Löytyy erinnomainen kirjasto Onhan se suuri Täynnä luonnoksia Kirjoitettu ja piiretty Mistä vaan tahansa Kukaanhan ei lue niitä Kunnes suosittelet Tai ehkä löydät itse

Mutta Vesikin ei ole Aina rauhallinen Kaloja on monenlaisia Voi olla hai Tai vaikkapa mustekkala Tyyni valas Söpö merikissa

Kukahan hirviötä Tykkää? Joko typerä sankari Tai rohkea ritari

Puhuu yhtä Kuuluu toista Ruumis ruma Mieli valtava Ajattelee yli kaiken Näkee muuta Ymmärtää todella paljon Mutta hankalaa selittää Käsi ja sielu Taiteen henki Tiede & makeat keksit Syönnyt liian liikaa Vesiä juomatta Jano painaa Itsetunto putoaa

Mutta hymy pysyy Koska äiti sanoo "Kestä kivun aina Sehän lähtee pois" "Paniikki on pahinta Tee parhaasi mukaan" "Pysy vahvana Ja älä luota ketään Luppuun asti."

Kukaan ei välittänyt Paitsi äiti yksin Kaverit tulivat Lähtivät Ja uudet tulivat taas Vain pari kappaletta Elämäntovereita

Omathan ihmiset Kuin Romea ja Julia Aina väittävät Et ole henkilö Olet epäitsekäs Altruismin reinkarnaatio Kuka olet? Olen nainen, Olen pieni tyttö. Kukaan ei ota huomioon Kukaan ei ymmärrä Suuttuvanthan ne silti Olen sieluton Olen Neuvostoliiton robotti Leijun ilmassa aina

Kunnes löysin uuden luolan Toisen vuoren huipulla Uusi kansa, uusi laulu Tunsin elämän Kuin lapsena olisin Hiljaa kuin musta kissa Katsoin ja tutkinut Mutta puhuin ja maukuin Kuin valkoinen kissumirri

Mutta mitä kauemmin viettelee Sitä helpommin näkee Kuinka kova olen Vaikka sitä itse ei tunnustaa He kutsuvat minua Ihan kuin olisin Eksynyt kisu parka

Nyt se suloinen kilinä muuttuu Sävel niin henkisen syvä Ja värisevä Se pelottaa Haamullisesti hälyttää Näkymätön ukkonen Aina kelluu pään päällä Mutta ei yksin jäännytkään Sain kukan korvan taakse Sylit ja pusut Ystävällistä rakkautta Naurunikin vihdoin kaikui Helpotusti äänen vapaasti

Ja kerrankin löytyi jotain järjetöntä Kuin onnen vahinko Kiiltävän lumen päältä Kylmien tähtien alta Se olento sieltä Niin kirkas, niin lämpeä Ei uskoisi kaan Mutta ei häntä kiinnostaa Sydän sykkii, sydän pysähtyy "Olet kaunis, olet ihana" Ja aina hän sanoo Vaikka kuinka paljon Teräviä hampaitani näyttäisi "Olet söpö, haluan raksataa sinua"

Vihdoin itkettää Jäiset seinät sulavat Rakkautta tuntuu Tunnen itsensä Ihanaksi naiseksi Eikä enään Pienekis huone tytöksi Pystyn huutaa, pystyn ivata Voin nyt hirnua, voin nyt visertää Kehrään enemmän, mutkittelen kuin käärme Olen oma itsensä Löysin oman äänen sävynsä Sydämeni on vahva Koska olen rehellinen itseäni kohtaan Olen nyt inhimillinen Ja sen huomaa.