#I wrote a fic about him growing horns

[emilybeemartin]

Boromir Week, Day 6: Change of Fate

The note from Boromir's horn bounded high and clear, ricocheting off broken, soot-stained stone. A swell of voices rose into the air, cheering and shouting.

“The King of Gondor has returned!” he bellowed, sweeping his arm to Aragorn over his shoulder. “Long live King Elessar Telcontar, heir of Isildur!”

Aragorn was sitting straight and tall on his horse, his mouth set, but his eyes betrayed the barest spark of shell-shock. Boromir wasn’t going to let him think about it. He squeezed his horse’s flanks and started forward. Aragorn’s horse instinctively followed, and behind them the cumbersome train of their friends, comrades, and vanguard fell into step.

They passed through the first gate, which was no more than the stubs of towers, rimed with ash and gouged by ballistae. Still, gate wardens stood on top of the rubble, and the heralds released a peal from their trumpets. First, the two rising notes that signaled peaceful news to the city, and then the short burst that had been preceding Boromir his whole life. The Captain was entering the city. Growing up, Faramir would buzz it through pursed lips whenever Boromir stumbled out of bed or emerged from the jakes. But following after was a ring that hadn’t been heard from the ramparts of Minas Tirith since the second age. A clear swirl of notes, rising into the morning air.

The King was entering the city.

A snippet from a fic I wrote a few years ago. We all know Boromir Lives is my lifeblood, and one of my favorite concepts is Boromir reinventing himself as the pillar that holds up and legitimizes Aragorn as king.

@boromir-week

[yoiisa]

hiii i really loved your bllk boys reacting to you having a nightmare and was wondering if you could make a part 2??? maybe with isagi (i love him sm). only if you want too of course :)

hope you have a wonderful day/night <3

bllk characters reacting to you having a nightmare .𖥔 ݁ ˖

w/ ISAGI YOICHI, SAE ITOSHI, AND KAISER MICHAEL

Tags: TW for depictions of a car crash in Isagi's fic!! slight angst, hurt/comfort, this is part two to this fic i wrote a little bit ago!!

ISAGI YOICHI ⋆˙⟡

It most definitely wasn't a good idea for you to go to bed right after seeing the news about the car accident in downtown Shibuya. To add onto all of this, Isagi hadn't responded to any of your messages, but here you were.

To be fair, you weren't sure if your brain could handle all the stress while you were awake. You figured that you'd be able to cope better with your worries in your dreams.

Yeah, right.

The lights of the famous crossing flicker in your mind, painting the world in technicolor beauty. Isagi's hand is gripped tight in yours as he silently leads you through the city.

"Yoichi, are you okay?" you ask, the sound a bit distorted by your dream. He doesn't respond though, just continues trailing ahead of you with your hands linked. You try a few more times to get his attention, but nothing works.

It isn't until you give up on calling him that you realize the two of you have trailed straight into the middle of the crossing when all the stoplights have the red hand brightly displayed. Horns start honking, and your heart rate increases.

"Yoichi, stop! There are cars coming!" you shout, but once again it falls on deaf ears. You're left with only one choice.

Summoning all your strength, you wrench your arm from his grip and fall back into the crowd just in time to see Isagi get-

No, no, no!

There are a few shouts as people call for ambulances and help, but you can't seem to rip your eyes away from the horrific sight in front of you. There's so much blood. The sounds all around you muddy into the background. Your eyes are blurred as hot tears roll down your cheeks. This can't be happening. This can't be happening!

This is a dream you vaguely recall, but it all feels so real that your brain feels like it's short circuiting. You feel directionless, unsure of what's up and what's down.

"Ma'am, ma'am! [name]! Hey, can you hear me? [name]!"

You gasp as your eyes dart open. You're in your bedroom, with Isagi hovering over you. His blue eyes are wide and terrified as his thumbs stroke your cheeks, wiping away tears.

"It's- woah there!"

You shoot up in bed and hug him desperately, your hands and fingers digging into his shoulders. You sob into his neck, fat and hot tears stubbornly falling from your eyes. You want to stop crying, after all it was just a dream, but you can't. Your body feels like it's buzzing, the terror of your nightmare refusing to ebb. He nuzzles into your neck as his arms wrap around your waist.

"Shh, shh, don't cry," Isagi whispers as he rubs your back. "It's okay, I'm here."

SAE ITOSHI ⋆˙⟡

When the two of you first started living together, you told Sae upfront that you talk in your sleep. Sae seemed slightly annoyed, but it wasn't enough to deter him in any serious way. It'd been around five months since you moved in with him, and he told you that he hadn't heard anything, so that was relieving.

Well, at least until last night.

The night had started out simple enough, with you and Sae going to bed around the same time. What he hadn't anticipated though was the small squeaks that started leaving your mouth later on. They were barely audible at first, but then started growing in urgency and volume.

Sae groggily pushed himself up and checked his phone. 1:32 A.M. He cocked his head over to look at you. Your eye brows were furrowed and your face was red. You looked like you were having trouble breathing. Were you sick? Sae rested a hand on your forehead, but you weren't hot enough for it to be anything worse than a mild cold.

"[name]?" he calls, shaking your shoulder. "Hey, wake up."

"No," you moan, and he quirks his eyebrow. You sound like you're . . . in danger?

"[name], love, hey," he shakes you a more roughly, but you shy away from his grip.

You whimper and Sae feels himself growing more troubled.

"Don't go," you sob and Sae feels his heart shatter. He feels absolutely helpless. You won't wake up, and he doesn't know what to do.

With not much else direction, Sae lays himself over your body, pulling you into his chest. He lays kisses along your shoulder and neck, whispering sweet nothings.

"It's okay," he coos. "I'm here."

Eventually, you fall silent again. The crease in your eyebrow flattens, and your face isn't red anymore. Sae brushes a few strands of hair back from your head and kisses your temple. He gets out of bed and fills a glass of water, setting it on the nightstand after he comes back into the room. He climbs under the sheets again and presses himself against you as he drifts off to sleep himself.

KAISER MICHAEL ⋆˙⟡

Kaiser loves sleeping with you- in both meanings of that phrase. Sex with you is fun, for sure, but there's something special in the non-intimate nights as well. Pulling you into his chest or nuzzling his face into your chest. Every time the two of you fall asleep, Kaiser has to be touching some part of you. So obviously, when you get out bed, he notices within two minutes.

The sheets are cold and Kaiser lifts his head as soon as all his hand meets is blanket. His two-toned hair is messy and his eyes are only half open as he scans the bedroom, trying to find you. He blinks a little and pushes himself out of bed. He opens the door of the bedroom and walks out into the hallway, seeing the light in the kitchen glowing.

"[name]? Are you out there?" he yawns as he pads sleepily down the hallway.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I just wanted some water," you call back.

Kaiser stops at the entrance to the kitchen, leaning against the wall. He watches you with hooded eyes as you gulp down the rest of your drink. You rinse the glass and set it in the dish rack before walking over to him. You come to stand in front of him. Your shoulders slump and you rest your head on his chest.

"Misha," you whisper.

"Yes?" he asks, but you stay silent. He stares down at the top of your head and sighs. His arms wrap around your shoulders and pull you into his chest fully, your body molding against his.

"If you don't wanna talk, don't," he says, one hand coming up to pet your hair. "Let's go to bed, yeah liebe?"

You nod and he chuckles. He gently guides you back to the bedroom, his hand on your lower back. When you get back, you try to sit down and crawl under the covers, but Kaiser stops you.

He smirks as he pulls you back and shakes your head, "Nuh uh, liebe. Warten."

He pulls the sheets back and then picks you up. He lowers you into the mattress and with slow, deliberate movements, he tucks you in. He kisses your forehead and gently rubs your face with his thumb. The action is so sweet but somehow also over the top that you can't help but laugh.

Kaiser smiles as he watches you. "There she is," he mutters.

[jinuaei]

Dude, you could make a drunken alastor with the reader, what would it be like? And what would happen?

(( I saw a short on YouTube of an animation, I thought it was so funny... I wanted to see a fanfic about it...

If you're curious: https://youtube.com/shorts/ZN2PBs-RsVM?si=12BtCleXiCO7BWkU ))

So I basically mixed both of these asks into one fic, sorry if its not what you wanted its 3 am and I don't know what im doing kk love yall byeeee. been a while since I wrote so please be kind

Additional art

Warning: Kind of yandere? tagging just in case, BAD ACCENT WRITING, kissing!, Drunk alastor

Alastor is a heavyweight when it comes to drinking, but still, his tolerance to strong alcohol is no match to the king of hell himself. The bottles that surround the both of them shine under the lights of the hotel, empty as the red eyes staring at the wall behind Husk. Which is rather concerning as the owner of said eyes is the loser of the impromptu drinking game, started by the loser himself.

Alastor has been taking big Ls tonight huh. Not only did he lose his own game with the king of hell, he’s also getting clowned on by his enemy. Speaking of, Lucifer is now gloating in front of Alastor about how ‘he’s better’ and ‘you thought you could defeat THE KING OF HELL???’, while the recipient is still mindlessly staring at the display bottles of the bar.

Concerned, you walk up to him with hesitation, not wanting to trigger the hunting instincts he has displayed every time you are around. He has always pursued you not in a romantic sense, at least you think so, but more of a predatory sense. Everytime you walk into the room, his head always snaps to your direction, the smile on his face spreading wider and the horns growing the closer you get. At first you would just ignore the ever growing static emitting from him, the fear of getting mauled and eaten by him increasing with the volume of the radio waves. 

The intimidating display of his horns always amp up too whenever the other men of the hotel try to talk to you, or just even approaching your general vicinity. The headaches that you leave with always render you unable to do anything for the rest of the day. But with how constantly he’s been threatening the whole room with his power and presence, it’s no wonder you’ve been trying to avoid him everytime you just even feel the shift of static in the air. You’d rather not be MIA just because Alastor’s radio waves make you ill.

However, when you’re with the girls, his presence becomes pleasant, the sharp noise turning into a sweet jazz song that calms your nerves. During those times, you find yourself appreciating his presence. When you talk to Charlie or Nifty, he likes to cozy up right next to you, butting into the conversation, and when either of them ask for help, he tries to include you into the task, even when you are not needed. For Vaggie though, he still does stand next to you but you guess that his face is not as pleasant as when you talk to the other girls as Vaggie always glares at him when tries to speak. Nonetheless, the girls are always treated better than the boys.

Onto the current task, you wave a hand in front of him, still hesitant as Lucifer is still trying to provoke the Radio Demon. Thankfully Charlie managed to drag him away from the bar, talking about how his father is also drunk. With the unsuccessful attempt of catching his attention, you instead call out his name. In response, his head snaps to you with a painful noise that sounds like his neck breaking.

“Are you good Alastor…?,” his stare is still there but it looks more focused compared to the past 20 minutes.

You wait for him to respond, or at least for his brain to work again. Alastor blinks slowly, his smile growing bigger as his eyes finally focus on yours. The empty gaze turns soft and sitting before you is Alastor not as the Radio Demon, but his truest most pure self. And now that you think about it, you don’t hear the faint hum of the radio coming out from him, it was pure silence. That is until he finally speaks to you.

“Hello sha…”

Your breath hitches. 

You did not expect the cajun accent that came out of his mouth, and by God was it hot. It took you longer than you wanted to respond, the sheer change of his usual accent surprising you.  And the surprise must be obvious on your face as Alastor chuckles at your bafflement. 

“Why, what’s wrong dear…?”

He speaks slowly, slurring some of his words, but the accent is still thick on his tongue.

“Nothing, it’s just… how are you? You’ve been staring at the wall ever since you lost to Lucifer.”

“Hm… Nothin’, just thinkin’.”

“Thinking about what?”

“You.”

He purrs, the half lidded stare directed at you burns your body hot. It was nearly impossible to look away from him, but luckily he moved first, perching his head onto his crossed arms, looking adorably tired.

“So uh.. You drink whiskey huh?,” you fumbled, pointing to the various bottles that surrounded him.

He nods, still burrowed in his arms. The others are starting to retreat to their rooms, waving a goodnight to the people left in the lobby, which was you, Alastor and Husk, who is now starting to clean up the bar.

“You know, I haven’t tried whiskey yet.”

Alastor raises his head to look at you, mouth slightly opened as if to display his disbelief to your lack of taste. 

“Well, surely you have to try at least once!”

Husk was only minding his business, cleaning up the bottles on the table when Alastor yanks his arm and pulls him to demand a bottle of whiskey. The cat demon's face scrunched up, and he looks at you with a ‘are you fucking for real’ face, you can only smile sheepishly back. Being given no choice, he complies to Alastors demand, grumbling about wanting to sleep but needing to still clean up after you both. Feeling pity, you volunteer to do his work and let him go to bed, he eagerly agrees and practically books it upstairs. 

The demon left with you shows off the bottle he acquired, popping off the cap with a flourish. You try to find a glass to drink out of but Alastor had another idea. He drinks out from the bottle and before you can ask him to stop, he grips the back of your head and kisses you.

Your eyes widen, freezing in your seat in shock and awe. His hand moves under your chin and his thumb trails up to hook it through your lips and pulls open your mouth. The whiskey from his mouth transfers to yours, burning as you gulp it down your throat. He finally pulled away when there was no more whiskey left to transfer.

“Well, what do you think? Do you like it?”

The dopey smile on his face is impossible to ignore, he looks so pleased yet still so hungry, but the ever so gentleman still waits for your reaction.

Honestly, you don’t know if you liked the whiskey but you really, really, really liked the kiss.

“Yeah! Yeah, I liked it.”

“That's good! I’m glad my deer also likes the stuff that I like. Haha! Here, have some more!”

He nudges the bottles to you, but since it's midnight and you’d rather not have a hangover by the morning. So you refused, and he full on pouted, pouted! And he looked so sad too, his ears flattened and everything! 

You couldn’t bear to see him that sad, even though it’s actually terrifying seeing the Radio Demon, acting like a dejected puppy. So you came up with a solution to both of your problems.

Gingerly holding his cheek, your hands carefully pull his face to yours, his gaze curious but willing. You bit your lip before kissing him lightly, unsure of whether it’s okay or not to do this to the predator that has been haunting your days. The same predator who's now reduced to putty in your hands, eagerly kissing you back with vigour. He tastes of whiskey, which was what you were finding for, and slightly of blood, maybe his meal from earlier that night.

You pull away from him when you start to lose air from the kiss, he complies, his face dazed and the blush from the kiss spreads across his face. Catching your breath, you see Alastor move closer to you, he moves his face to your neck, sniffing it deeply.

“What are you doing…?”

“I’ve been waitin’ for you to accept me for so long...You don’t understand how long I’ve longed for you sha… To become mine,” he starts to ramble, the cajun accent still thick, and only getting thicker the lower his voice gets. His hands start to roam around your body, gripping your waist tight as he pulls you close to him, he would have pulled you onto his lap if you haven’t stood your ground.

“Oh… how I wanted to rip those damned men that try to take you away from me, ‘specially that cursed sorry excuse of a father, Charlie would be soooo much better taken care of by you n’ me. Nifty already thinks of you as her parent, to which of course I wholly agree with. You’d make a perfect parent sha.”

You stay silent as his whole body is now fully leaned against you. 

“I like helpin’ you out n’ Nifty, makes me feel like a proud father n’ a good husband… Ohhhh, i’d love to be your husband.”

“Sometimes, I like to follow you around to protect you from those disgustin’ dogs tryin’ to steal you away from me.”

What the fuck is happening? You thought this man hated your guts and only wanted to fuck with you for fun, but not like this. Yeah the kiss wasn’t good either but you only wanted to do it for bragging rights, like who could say they kissed the Radio Demon?? Oooh, Vox would have your head if he knew about this, that tv head of his and his weird obsession with Alastor. 

“Would you like to be mine sha?,” his voice snaps you out of your thoughts, his face now planted on your chest as his face nuzzles on it, you can see movement under his coat but you ignore it in favour of looking at him.

“Well… uh…”

“Please…? Please be mine…”

He moves his face close to you again, his breath tickling your lips, tempting you to kiss him again. Your response gets stuck on the tip of your tongue, but luckily, you don’t have to respond as his body flops onto yours, his weight fully on top of you. You can hear his leveled breathing as he dozed off, cradled against your neck, a sign of him now being asleep.

Well shit. You’d have to drag this 7 foot deer up his room, and you pray that he doesn’t remember anything from tonight.

[jennaispunk]

I’m not one to toot my own horn or bring attention to myself but I was inspired by the lovely @jolapeno (ilysm 💜💜), @wethairjoel, @sawymredfox (ily bestie!! 💜), @toomanystoriessolittletime and others, I decided to post my own favorite things.

2024 was the year I started writing fic. I posted my first story in February and the rest is history. My journey has had its ups and downs (self-doubt, writers block, etc) but I wouldn’t change a thing. I’ve made some wonderful friends in the Pedro fandom (too many to tag) and I’m grateful for each and every one of you and all your shenanigans. 🤪

Now, for the things:

Just Another Saturday Night- The first fic I ever posted and it was for none other than Javi P for Space Sisters Valentine’s Day Exchange. I love writing for Javi. This was a fun story to write about Javi and reader baby sitting for Steve and Connie on Valentine’s Day and their feelings are revealed. Javi singing to Olivia will live in my head rent-free forever.

Like the Rain- my first Frankie fic. If you don’t already know, I love Frankie, and I mean LOVE (I really should write more for him). This one was for @guiltyasdave 1.5k kisses challenge and the prompt was kisses in the rain. If you don’t know by know, I love Frankie, and I mean LOVE. I really need to write more for him. This little story was ultimately about Frankie learning to accept love and the rain provided a good metaphor for washing the slate clean and starting again.

A Symptom of Being Human- my first Joel fic. This one was a bit different for me because it was the most heavy thing I’d written up to that point. It dealt with loss and panic attacks and I cried while writing it.

It’s Only Make Believe- my first Dieter fic written for @burntheedges Roll-A-Trope Challenge. My prompt was fake dating/relationship. This one was a bear, y’all. I struggled with this one quite a bit and it’s my longest fic to date. I had a hard time finding Dieter’s voice but I think I managed okay. This one made me fall for Dieter even more (and also made me rewatch the Bubble 🤣) and I’ve written two more fics for him since then.

Amid the Falling Snow- My first Ezra fic. Ezra has always been a favorite of mine but I had shied away from writing because I was nervous I wouldn’t be able to capture his voice. After a few rewatches of Prospect (a terrible thing to have to do I know 🤣) and some reading some fantastic resource material from @morallyinept, this just flowed out of me. I think I really found my stride here in terms of being able to paint an image with my words.

Miller’s Christmas Tree Farm- I tried something new this year: co-writing. This was a piece of Joel Christmas fluff I wrote with @toomanystoriessolittletime. I had so much fun writing this with you and I hope we can team up in 2025 to do it again!!

I also made a few moodboards (not related to any of my fics) that I’m proud of.

Frankie and Mouse- for @beefrobeefcal. Frankie and Mouse will always be one of my favorites and I will ship them until the day I die. This series has it all: smut, humor and tears.

Jagged Scraps of Him- for @moonlitbirdie. This was the first Ezra fic I read and boy did it blow me away. I love the way Birdie writes Ezra. If you haven’t read it, what are you waiting for?You can find the fic on A03 if you’re a registered user. I’m posting the moodboard as I pic because I can’t link it.

I participated in quite a few writing challenges this year (some of which I mentioned above) and helped me grow as a writer. I’m looking forward to the writing challenges you all come up with in 2025!

I stepped out of my comfort zone a bit in 2024 and participated in @morallyinept’s Pike’s Pick-n-Mix, where I was paired with the amazing @beefrobeefcal who I’m blessed to say became a good friend. ily Beef!! 💜

I also participated in Pedro Scouts. @goodwithcheese-Thank you so much for all your hard work and dedication into creating such a welcoming and fun space for the fandom. Scouts Summer Camp was probably my favorite part of this year. The shenanigans and group activities were hilarious and so much fun. Because of summer camp, I met @jolapeno, who has become a good friend. I’m truly blessed. 💜

I can’t say goodbye to 2024 without thanking all of those who have supported me, laughed with me and shared thots with me. I can’t tag you all because there are just too many. Here’s just are just a few that I haven’t already tagged and/or mentioned in this post who have made my 2024 worth remembering:

@whocaresstillthelouvre @secretelephanttattoo @bitchesuntitled @artsy-girl-76 @sixhours

@mothandpidgeon @yopossum @tinytinymenace @hellfire-state-of-mind @maggiemayhemnj

@romanarose @perotovar @toxicanonymity @wordywarriorwrites @mando-abs @timelordfreya

Here’s to a great 2025 for all of us!!

Much love,

Jenn 💜

[gravehags]

dance of the seven veils

Pairing: Aether x f!Reader (Ghoul Bicycle Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT MDNI

Tags: ghoul rut, possessiveness, delirious fucking, ghoul knots, cirrus being a real one, aether beating that pussy up, biblical reference

Words: 1,972

Summary: The way you're moving your hips right now before him he'd do anything for you.

a/n: I WROTE AN ACTUAL FIC LMAO YAYYY i wasn't expecting to revisit the ghoul bicycle series in full fic form but what do you know. will probably do some of the other ghouls/ghoulettes rut/heat fics as well. because why not.

~~~

You look delicious.

Cumulus has you at the center of the living room, barefoot on the rug while he, Cirrus, and Rain watch. Your shirt is off and the bralette you wear is practically see-through. There’s a flush on your cheeks as you grin at the ghoulette before you who places her hands on your hips.

“You have to isolate your hip movements. Don’t just shake your ass, become aware of your abdominal muscles and how they shift.”

“I’m trying, ‘Lus! This is my first time belly dancing, give me a break!”

Cumulus gives you a faux-stern stare before matter-of-factly grabbing the waistline of your sweatpants and yanking them down to expose your belly. You burst out laughing and Aether’s brain is flooded with images of you in a myriad of positions, dripping and aching for him and him alone. Frustrated, he rubs at the base of his horns as his pants grow tight and Cirrus looks over at him with some concern.

“You good, Aeth?” she murmurs out of the corner of her mouth, and he’s thankful for her discretion.

“Yeah,” he whispers back, hoarse, “it’s uh…that time of the month.”

Cirrus’ eyes dart back and forth between him and you gyrating with your hands above your head, head thrown back in delight. A regular Salome. A bead of sweat slides down Aether’s temple and she nods.

“It’s only gonna get worse if you don’t do something about it, hon.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

“She’s going to find out about it sooner or later. And out of all of us, you’re probably the best one to walk her through it.”

Aether scoffs and wipes his forehead.

“Don’t know about that, Cir. You have no idea the things I want to do to her right now.”

“Don’t I?” Cirrus smiles wanly, “I know what you’re like. And I also know she would go crazy for it.”

Aether grunts in response, eyes trained on the sway of your hips and the roll of your belly. Across the room, Rain says something that makes you double over laughing and he seethes with jealousy. When you straighten back up and make eye contact with him, smiling adoringly, he snaps. In an instant he’s up and striding the short distance to you and in one swift movement he bends down and slings you over his shoulder. You let out an undignified squawk as he storms from the room, the eyes of his packmates on his back.

Cirrus would explain.

He can hear you asking him questions but all he can focus on right now is getting you to your bed. When he finally reaches your room and opens the door it’s like a dam breaks within him. With a heavy thump he tosses you on the bed where you look up at him dazed and...was that arousal in your eyes?

“What the fuck was that about, Aether?”

You’re breathless, chest heaving. He must have one hell of a look on his face because you start scooting up the bed, creating some distance between the two of you. Before you can get too far though, he’s got you by both ankles and unceremoniously yanking your body back down towards him. You don’t squirm or fight to get away but instead peer at him with curiosity.

“Hey. Hey, Aeth. What’s going on?”

He squeezes his eyes shut hard enough that when he reopens them he sees stars.

“Has…has anyone else told you about ghoul ruts or heats?”

“Ruts? Heats? Like…like an animal?”

He’s definitely reading arousal in your tone now and his cock twitches in his too-tight pants.

“Yeah. Like an animal. Well my rut has started and if I’m entirely honest with you, all I want to do is stuff every hole you have with me and fuck you until it takes. You understand?”

Your jaw hangs open and your breath comes in uneven pants as you stare up at him before nodding.

“And…and all the others go through this?”

He nods as his hands slide up your calves and over your hips to reach the waistband of your pants.

“Do you want it?” The question is simple but he thinks if you say anything other than “yes” he’s going to lose his mind.

“Aether…unholy fuck yes, I want it. Come on honey, fuck me til I’m dripping.”

If his laughter in response is slightly crazed, you say nothing but grin back at him, lifting your hips so he can more easily undress you. You sit up and with a bit of finagling, manage to remove your bralette and fling it across the room. When he sees you fully nude, not for the first time but in a different light, his tail thrashes behind him and he drops to his knees.

“Thought–ah!” you gasp as he licks a stripe up the inside of your right thigh, “thought you were going to fuck me?”

“Oh, I am,” he smiles, lifting your thighs onto his shoulders, “but I need you nice and ready for me, angel. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Your little noise of intrigue is cut off when he spreads your cunt with his thumbs and delves his tongue inside you. Normally he would revel in this, take his time, but if he doesn’t find some relief soon he’s going to go mad. 

“Aeth!” you breathe as his nose nudges your clit, “Fuck, honey that’s it.”

Steadily his tongue fucks into you, pausing only for a moment to lap and suck at your clit. When your hand flies to the base of his horns he lets out a growl and his hips rut upwards. He pulls away with a lewd noise and replaces his tongue with two of his thick fingers.

“Look at you taking me so well already, beautiful,” Aether pants as he pistons and scissors his fingers inside your cunt, “Just wait til you see what I have in store for you.”

Your laugh is delirious as he viciously brings you to your peak, knees clenching on either side of his head and your hole spasming around his digits. 

“Fuck, Aeth, fuck,” you moan, hips bucking against his hand, “Need you. Need your cock, please.”

In an instant he pulls away and pulls his shirt off over his head. His pants follow and when your eyes land on the reddened, swollen head of his cock as it bobs heavy in front of him, you let out a needy whine. The sound makes his head spin and without a second thought he’s upon you, mouth seeking yours. You continue to make sweet little noises into his kiss, sucking the taste of yourself off his tongue, as his hips jerk against you. He wants to delight in sliding his tongue against your hardened nipples and peppering the tender flesh of your breasts in dark bruises but more than anything he needs to be inside you. With a growl he pulls himself away from you, your lips chasing his and he leans back on his haunches, hand sliding along his cock. When he takes the head and runs it through your slit he almost keels over, the feel of your hot slick enough to end him.

“Well go on, Aeth,” you grin coyly at him, head cocked, “Fuck me until it takes. Just like you said.”

There’s a snarl on his lips as he spreads you open and with one swift movement, slams inside of you. Your back arches into him and he sets a rough pace as he grabs your ankles and folds your legs up as far as your body allows him. The new angle makes you cry out, chanting his name as he fucks desperately into you. He’s always gone a little mad when he’s inside you but when it’s like this? When you so eagerly accept and want him when he’s at his most feral? It makes his head spin.

“So beautiful like this,” he grunts, hips slamming into yours, “so perfect and so beautiful and all mine.”

You must enjoy the possessive nature of his words from the way your cunt clenches around him and he grins down at you with all his teeth. Your lips attempt to form words but the way he fucks the breath from your lungs makes speech almost impossible. Almost.

“Aeth!” you hoarsely cry out, “Yours. I’m yours. Make me yours.”

Your words, the way your body yields to his touch, the way you’re gazing up at him with your pupils blown drives his hips forward. He knows he has to be bruising you, will take care of you later but for now his rut is too powerful to stop. He can feel it coming, feel it building at the base of his spine and sliding through his stomach. He tries to warn you but doesn’t quite know how, not with the way you continue to squeeze around him.

“L-love,” he stutters, “gonna k-knot you. Gonna–fuck–”

In an instant he feels the base of himself swell and watches your eyes go wide before they roll back in your head. His thrusts become tight and shallow watching you stretch to accommodate him.

“Aether! Fuck!” you finally manage to cry out, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

He wants to laugh and tell you he quite literally can’t but the way your walls clench and spasm around him when you cum drive him over the edge. With a roar he cums, rope after rope, inside you, filling you up as he presses your bent legs further up. His brain goes fuzzy after a while as he finally relents and allows you to relax, his body collapsing against yours. Your breath is shaky in his ear as you stroke his sweat-drenched back.

“Got you. I got you, honey,” you murmur, cupping his cheek. “You did so well.”

He must be coming back to Earth because that makes him snort.

“Shouldn’t I be telling you that?”

You smile.

“If you like,” you say before placing a sweet but quick kiss on his lips, “I think you might be crushing my chest cavity, though.”

“Sorry,” he groans, shifting your bodies so they could lie side by side, “The uh. Knot takes a little bit to go down.”

You make a little noise of interest as you run your fingers through his damp chest hair.

“Satan, we’re lucky to have you. How did we get so lucky?”

That makes you roll your eyes and scoff.

“You’re lucky to have me, right. As if I’m not the one with ten adoring lovers who care deeply about me and my well-being. You want to talk about luck? There’s never been anyone luckier on the planet, Aether. I would choose all of you over everything and everyone.”

His heart aches as you lean in and brush noses with him before pressing your forehead to his and holding it there. For a sweet moment the two of you are content to simply listen to one another’s breathing when Aether shifts his hips and his cock slides from you.

“Unholy fuck,” you breathe, pulling away from him and rolling back onto your back. When you spread your legs, a gush of his seed spills from you and drips on the bed sheets. The sight of your reddened cunt slick with his cum makes a growl bubble from deep in his chest and you look over to him.

“That’s fucking hot,” you murmur.

“My cum or the noise I just made?”

“Both, love, but let me recover for a moment, yeah? And then you can bring me ice packs for the next week.”

“Darling, let me have you again and I’ll bring you the head of John the Baptist.”

And he does have you again.

Three more times that evening.

No saintly head necessary, his Salome graciously deems.

[bloodibambiidoll]

True form

(Steddie x Succubus!Reader)

Summary: You’re nervous to show your human boyfriends your true succubus form. But you learn pretty quickly you have absolutely nothing to worry about.

Warnings: Nudity, sexual themes, some neck kissing, monster/human relationships. Nothing too crazy but if I missed any let me know!! Either way my blog is as always 18+MNDI

A/N: This is just a little Drabble about the characters from my fic The Pull, when I originally wrote that story I was a bit nervous to make her look as inhuman as I wanted to so I’ve been working on this blurb for a bit about her showing them her most true form. Just a cute lil slice of life moment. Wk: 896

“Hold up… so you’re telling me… you’ve been hiding something THAT sexy from us the entire time!?” Your boyfriend Eddie shoots up from where he was lounging on the couch to face you and you snort at his antics.

“I mean… I didn’t know how you would feel about it. There’s definitely been people who were into it but mostly I don’t really show that part of myself, I wasn’t hiding it exactly… I just didn’t mention it.”

“You really thought Eddie wouldn’t be into you having a full on demon thing going on? I thought you were getting to know us baby, but maybe I was wrong.” Your other boyfriend, Steve, who is sitting on the opposite end of the couch teases.

“It’s not that! It definitely crossed my mind because he’s a freak-“

“Hey! I take offense to that, you know!” Eddie huffed.

“You know I mean it in the best way baby…” you bit your lip and winked at him. “But what I was saying is… I’m self conscious about it and I didn’t know how YOU would feel about it Stevie so I just kind of kept it to myself.”

“Sweetheart, I think you’re the hottest fucking thing to ever walk this earth and nothing can change that, not even some horns and a tail.”

“AND wings…” you responded, still self conscious.

“I’ll still love you, WINGS and all. Also did you forget our boyfriend is a literal goblin?”

That made you snort out a laugh. Something you’ve learned about Steve is he always knew what to say to reassure you no matter how big or how small your anxieties were he was always able to comfort you through them with ease. Not that Eddie didn’t, he just had a very different approach, more of a “I’ll roll you a joint and you can smoke it while I give you head” kind of comfort. Which was great too, but sometimes you just needed Steve’s calm voice and soft touches.

“Okay then… I’ll show you.” You stood up and stripped yourself, before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. On your exhale three things happened, little black horns started growing out of the top of your head, the cutest little pointed black tail popped up behind you, and pretty little black wings that reminded Eddie of the bats he had tattooed on his arm grew from your back.

“Holy fuuuuuckkk” Eddie groaned. “You’ve been hiding this from me? God damn baby you look so sexy.” He shifted in his seat, adjusting himself. You could sense his arousal and it not only reassured you but made your mouth water.

“There’s… one more thing. If you want.” You bit your lip in looked into his eyes, yours now that pretty crimson color that almost seemed to glow. When you smiled at him expectantly he could see your fangs and he couldn’t imagine how it could get better than this.

But before he could respond Steve spoke up “There’s more? How could you get any sexier than you are right now? Because shit honey… I never thought I’d be as into this as I am but you’re killing me.”

Your pupils dilate instantly when you look over at him. His beautiful brown eyes blown wide, his prominent bulge in his tight jeans, his jaw clenched. You wanted to fucking sink your teeth into his neck and taste his blood. You’ve yet to do that, or even tell them that’s something you want, but god you know they’d taste so good.

“Okay Stevie, I’ll show you.” You took a deep breath and when you released it just like before you had changed. Your skin was now the same shade of red as your eyes, your wings outstretched proudly on your back, your tail slightly moving from side to side, that sexy little mark on your lower stomach, and those beautiful black horns sitting so pretty on your head. You were magnificent, otherworldly.

“Fucking shit, come here.” Eddie outstretched his hand for you to take as you approached him. “You are by far the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen. My little infernal princess.” He kissed the back of your hand, his lips plush and soft against your burning skin.

Steve reached for your other hand to gain your attention and fuck did he look good. His hair was a little disheveled from running his hand through it and the look in his eyes was fucking feral.

“I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t like this… Eddie’s right, you’re magnificent, ethereal even.” He kissed each individual one of your fingertips, bringing his lips to your palm and down your arm before pulling you down on the couch between him and your shared boyfriend, careful not to crush your wings or tail. Eddie rests his hand on your bare thigh, leaning his head down to kiss along your neck, collar bones, and shoulder. Steve does the same on the opposite side of you, both their hands inching closer to where you wanted them, their mouths moving down your chest. You had never felt more beautiful, content, and full of love. You wanted to bask in this feeling for the rest of your long life. You knew you couldn’t, but for right now you allowed your heart to feel full and just enjoy this moment with your boys, allowing them to worship you. Every part of you.

[sparkygurly227]

Descendants Next Generation OCs

I absolutely adore the kids I've given the Core Four and the Sea Three so I figured I'd write a post to let you know who each of them are (their ages are the ages they were at the time of Are We Really Strangers? which is the fic I wrote about Mal and Ben's oldest falling in love)

CORE FOUR KIDS

Ben and Mal's kids:

Lia Claire (aged 25) - Lia is Ben and Mal's oldest daughter - she took the throne at 21 (as Ben and Mal decided that 16 was just far too young) and has the ability to grow horns, fangs and claws at will (this is due to a mix of Mal's transformational abilities and rememnants of the Beast curse being in Ben's DNA due to how long his father was a Beast). She's a brilliant queen, beloved by many, kind and fair - she has had the qualities of a good queen since she was a child. There are, of course, those who doubt her, and at this point, some of her councillors question whether she'll continue the family dynasty as she is still unmarried. She has hardships coming her way but she has a very big, very loving family, who will stand by her no matter what.

Lucy Isabelle (aged 20) - Lucy is Ben and Mal's youngest daughter - she's a history student at the university on the Isle (Isle of the Doomed College - I headcanon that the Isle of the Doomed was turned into a university after the barrier came down) and she has magic, just like her mother, though is not able to turn into a dragon. She is a lot of fun, though knows when to be responsible, and a bit of a hopeless romantic (she loves to hear about the love stories of her friends and families and loves to tell her own). She stands by her family, no matter what, and will always be quick to defend them if she thinks they've been insulted (sometimes a little too quick and she has to learn to rein it in a bit). Due to Uma's kids having no interest in taking over from her, Lucy will become the Leader of the Isle, a title that was officially recognised as Uma's after the barrier came down (Mal was still the Queen of the Isle, but because she was queen of the whole country, she wanted Uma in charge of that region).

Doug and Evie's kids:

Gemma Iris (technically aged 24): Gemma was Doug and Evie's first baby and only biological daughter. The reason she is "technically" aged 24 is because she was actually stillborn - if anyone has read my oneshot collection, the more keen-eyed among you may have noticed that there are fics where Lia is a realtively newborn baby and Evie is pregnant, but, at other points, the child referred to as the oldest Devie child is 3 years younger than Lia - this is why. She's always in the back of my mind when I write about the Devie children and I fully believe she's frequently in the back of all of the Core Four. Jay even calls her by a nickname, the way he does many of his nephews/nieces.

Charles Kingsley "Charlie" (aged 21): Charlie is Doug and Evie's oldest son and is a sweet kid, quite quiet and obsessed with animals. At his point in time, he's studying to be a vet and has a lot of pets - two dogs (Marco and Polo) and a cat (Topaz) who live with his parents and a horse (Alexander the Great a.k.a. Alex) who boards at Castle Beast. He would have more pets but his accommodation at the time wouldn't allow it, not to mention his workload would make it difficult for him to focus on them.

Jonathan Andrew "Jono" (aged 20): Jono is Doug and Evie's second son and he was a bit of an unexpected surprise (he was born a day after Charlie turned 1) but very much beloved. He's the only boy to inherit Evie's blue hair and he has a keen sense of fashion like his mum. At this time, he's studying chemistry and will go on to work as a cosmetic scientist for his mum's company, which he loves being a part of.

Ethan Thomas (aged 18): Ethan is Evie and Doug's youngest son and final biological child. He has always been fascinated with gems and gem mining, so as soon as he graduated, he was taken on as an apprentice miner by his grandfather and great-uncles. He enjoys the physical work of the mining and the intellectual work of studying the composites of the gems afterwards.

Violet May (aged 8): Violet was adopted by Doug and Evie when she was five years old. While this does mean that there are some behavioural difficulties, she is overall one of the sweetest and most loving children. She loves the attention she gets from her older cousins and is a little performer at heart (she'll go on to be a singer when she's older).

Heidi Ellen (aged 4): Heidi was adopted by Doug and Evie when she was a few months old. Despite being their youngest child, Heidi was in their family before Violet was. However, as she was so little when Violet was born, she never really knew this. She's a very wild child with the biggest sweet tooth (something she never grows out of) and Evie and Doug have quite the job just to stop her from clambering over furniture and jumping off of things all the time - they both admit that for this reason, they're a little relieved that their boys were grown up enough to look after themselves - they struggle to split their attention between Violet and Heidi as it is.

Jane and Carlos' kids:

Joseph Henry "Joe" (aged 20): Joe is the oldest De Vil kid and probably the quietest of them all. He's very bookish and often gets emotionally tired around people due to being what everyone thought was HSP. It was later discovered that he actually was a literal empath - he could feel everyone's emotions (though he could feel more from those he actually had an emotional bond with). I honestly can't remember if they had worked that out yet by this point. His empath abilities come from the fact that his grandmother is a fairy godmother and I believe they have an empathy bond with their charges, so that's where he inherited that from.

Luke David (aged 20): Luke is the second De Vil kid and Joe's twin brother. He is very sporty, tends to be quite protective over those he loves but is a very welcoming and fun guy. He has the powers of a fairy godmother (just like Jane does) but he can't make empathy bonds (Jane has empathy bonds with Lia and Lucy because Ben and Mal asked her to be their fairy godmother). Luke isn't all that keen on the fact that he has powers and would rather get things done through honest hard work (not that magic isn't honest or hard, just sometimes feels like an advantage he didn't deserve). He is training to be part of the Auradon Guard (those guys we see holding Hades in D3) and loves that job.

Abigail Ruth "Abi" (aged 18): Abi is the youngest De Vil kid and the only girl. She is absolutely a daddy's girl (though still has a great relationship with her mom). When she was younger, it was discovered that she could talk to animals (I decided to take that one random episode of Wicked World where apparently Carlos could speak dog and I just ran with it - though I say any magic he has came from his father's side because Cruella De Vil had no magic, she was just insane - then combined with some magic from FG and boom, Abi can talk to animals). She's about to go and study genetics at this point, and will some day become a lead researcher in studying how magic and genetics are linked (something that she is fascinated by due to how different her magic is from her brothers' and how different Lia and Lucy's is)

Jay and Lonnie's kid:

Katherine "Katie" (aged 19): Katie, also known as Kat by some of her friends and family, is Jay and Lonnie's only child. She is as fierce as they are and as loving as they are. She seems to have the best of both of their qualities, but also is a bit of a hothead and stubborn. What she loves above all is tourney, which she plays professionally, just like her dad. She is dating, and will someday marry, Harry and Uma's son, making Harry and Jay related and neither one of them is too sure how they feel about that.

Sea Three Kids

(There is slightly less about these kids as they don't appear as often in my fics so I don't think about them as frequently)

Harry and Uma's kids:

Joshua Edmund "Josh" (aged 19): Josh is Harry and Uma's oldest kid and is a decent guy. He was a bit of flirt when he first came to AP, making all the girls around him swoon (except Katie - which naturally meant that this is who he found himself falling head over heels for). He's like his dad in a lot of ways, both of them quick to anger, but his family is one of the most loving ones there is and it's obvious how much they all care for one another.

Syrena Pearl (aged 16): Syrena is Harry and Uma's youngest kid and can be a sweet girl when she wants to be, but mostly is quite feisty and tends to run into things without thinking things through. She's got amazing fashion sense and a good head on her shoulders. She's currently a very popular student at AP, widely admired despite her surname making her a target for some of the meaner kids. She will eventually go on to be a pharmacist.

Gil and Audrey's kids: (sorry if this couple comes a little out of the blue - my friend mentioned it to me once and suddenly I couldn't see it any other way)

Gilbert Phillip "Bertie" (aged 20): Gilbert is Audrey and Gil's oldest child. He is a lot like his dad, though he's a bit brighter, more on par with his mum in smarts. He was kind of named after Gil, (Audrey was surprised to learn that Gil wasn't short for Gilbert, he was just Gil), but he's known as Bertie, which Audrey would say was in honour of her grandfather, King Hubert. Gilbert is quite good friends with Evie and Doug's son, Jonathan.

Gabriella Allison "Gabri" (aged 17): Gabri is Audrey and Gil's second child and oldest girl. She is a smart girl, and does care greatly for people - she ends up becoming a nurse (though she stays in Northern Wei, where she studied, travelling home when she was needed for royal events that involved the whole family).

Amelia Elizabether "Amy-Beth" (aged 16): Amy-Beth is Audrey and Gil's youngest child. She is a sweet girl, though not always quick to understand things. She's kind and beautiful, with the brightest smile and a charming air about her that makes her very appealing to many people, even if she isn't the brightest. Her gentle nature and general kindness makes up for any difficulty she may have fully comprehending everything that goes on around her.

So these are some of my sweet babies. I have a few other OCs, some in the Descendants generation, some in this one, but these guys are the main ones. They are the ones that are always on the brain. If you have any questions about these guys or if you want to know about any particular other OC I may have, please drop an ask or a message, I'd love to hear from you!

[icemankazansky]

@film-in-my-soul tagged me in this really cool fic meme:

Everyone deserves to toot their own horn and be proud of their work! So, this tag game is fairly simple.

Promote 5 works that you're really proud of and share a little about why you're so proud of it! Then tag as many people as you like. You can reblog this post and add on to it (why not create a giant reclist to throw around?) or steal this header (and border if you like) and make your own post!

The Storm Series

Top Gun, Iceman/Maverick, E

Eight years after Maverick and Iceman meet at TOPGUN, Maverick is running the program and Iceman is badly injured in combat, which finds him sent back to Miramar to teach until he's fit to fly again. Things move pretty fast after that.

I'm proud of many things about Storm. It was my first major work for Top Gun, and I'm really happy with the characterization. The way the characters and their relationship evolve through the series—I'm proud of that, and I'm proud that I was able to pick up the series after eight years and write two more installments that belong in the universe with the first two. Despite all the ways I had changed as a person and a writer in the time between, I was able to slip back into it like an old coat, and that is something you strive for as an author.

Dreams of Impact

Top Gun, Iceman/Maverick, M

Maverick's trip in Darkstar takes him further than he ever imagined possible.

When I was a baby writer, I wrote a lot of really long stories. For several years, I worked with another writer on a collaboration that surpassed 200k words, and we never finished it. That was by far my longest work, but many of my stories pre-2010 are 10k, 20k, 50k.

Now it's rare that I write something that long. Part of that is that I learned how to say a lot without that many words. Pithy was a word I heard constantly in grad school, and I needed to learn how to do that. I have, and I'm a much better writer for it. I'm proud of that.

There are a lot of other reasons that I don't write long, multi-chapter epics anymore, everything from writing professionally to my health, and to be honest, sometimes I miss it. Dreams of Impact offered me a wonderful opportunity to get back to that kind of writing. I enjoyed writing the story very much, and I'm proud of how it turned out. The longer, more-plot heavy story muscles had not been flexed in a while, but I guess I still got it.

the weight of my heart is measured in carats

MCU, Tony/Pepper, G

What's so impressive about a diamond except the mining?

Remember what I said about pith? This one is like a good sword: perfectly weighted, perfectly balanced.

you are the moon that breaks the night for which i have to howl

Willow, Sorsha/Madmartigan, M

Magic leaves a trace, and part of the curse stayed in her blood, and Sorsha never forgot what it was like to be the wolf. Even after her mother transformed her back, the wolf lived still, tucked behind her breast.

I love magical realism, and I love making things into fairytales, and I love finding ways to fit discordant things together so they seem completely natural. I did all of those things very well in this story. It was also a gift for a dear friend who is also an excellent writer, and she absolutely lost her gotdam mind when she read it, and I am proud of that.

running through the underworld into your room

Top Gun, Iceman/Maverick, T

“Most of my grey hairs you gave me,” Ice said, unable to keep the fondness out of his voice even altered as it was. He paused. “You don’t know how much I wanted this. To grow old with you.”

This story is a standalone piece, but it was also—for me—an exercise (an exploration, maybe) in two very specific things. (It doesn't matter what. What does matter is: Not long after I had posted this, I talked to a couple people—dear friends but also writers I respect—about it once they'd read it, and they both told me how well I had done those two things, even though I hadn't mentioned them anywhere. I'm proud of that. It's extremely gratifying to know you can hit a target even if it's a target no one else can see.)

Tagging: @topgunreacts @escritoireazul @boasamishipper @maverickcalf @adiduck @hangsters @thelastplantagenet @andmakeithome

[tavyliasin]

Upon The Devil's Stage - Raphael Romance Event

My second entry into the Make Raphael Romanceable event by @dmagedgoods because I felt like the first wasn't quite romantic enough. This one could follow on as a sequel, or stand on its own as a little one shot~

--- Raphael has returned to sweep Tav off their feet, wondering if they can truly dance to the steps he has set before them. Tav has long waited for this chance, the unspoken promise, drawn to the warmth of the Cambion's flame. --- Click here to read on AO3 1860 Words

Pairing: Raphael x Gender Neutral Tav SPICE Rating: 0/5, we're only here for the romance again~ Content Warnings: None Spoilers: End game and post game spoilers alluded to though not the focus. Canon Compliance: Ah, if only~ This can be the canon of your post-game dreams, if you wish!

Paired Song Whisper by Burn the Ballroom "His favorite days were the mornings She came with confessions of cardinal sin A beast in the business of selling forgiveness Dead eyes on a treacherous grin Yet he laps up the vice like a wolf in the night He's the left hand of God on the stage And with one hand he offers salvation to lovers The other, it taketh awaySo give me your fire, give me your fear Give me your faith when love gives you tears Give me your heart, give me your fate Give me your hand when love gives you hate Give me your prayers up on your feet And I'll give you a show, it helps fill the seats So give me your sins, give me your lies But whisper your love, and I'll whisper mine."

--- Full Fic Below The Cut! ---

Upon The Devil's Stage

Poetry. That’s what he was, a song written in lyrics designed to enthral whilst the music of his rhyme captured Tav’s heart and soul.

Thief. Though he would never admit to such a word being applied to himself, he stole the stage he walked upon, took the spotlight and outshone even that.

Playwrite.

The script he wrote became a performance all were drawn to, characters populating his world, a whole cast of little mice rushing through the maze and hoping to find the promised prize at the centre.

Raphael.

A Devil in name and nature, and yet he was also far more than the abject evil of old fairy tales written to warn Tav away from the temptation - temptation which evidently they had not been warned clearly enough about as they let him lead them in a waltz of his own composition. He called himself a saviour, once, and perhaps it would amuse him to see the daydreams in Tav’s head of the devil as the knight in shining armour, the prince coming to sweep them off their feet.

And yet…no romance novel printed on cheap parchment could compare to the image of the cambion dressed in his finest silks, hair swept back between horns that curved wickedly above like a crown without jewels. Raphael was purple prose brought to life on reality’s page, a vivid violet swirl of perfect cursive script spelling out the poise and grace he wove into every word and motion. 

It didn’t take a contract to have Tav accepting the hand offered to them, to follow him onto the dancefloor that appeared around them as the reality of the mundane melted away. Perhaps the ease in which he transported them both across planes without so much as a question first should have been a concern, but their only worry now was putting a foot astray in the devil’s dance. 

—

Raphael smiled. His favourite client, his Little Mouse, and they were radiant in the glow of his glory. A simple spell had transformed their dreary armour into fine silks that far better matched their status at his side - the soon-to-be Archduke of the Hells could not allow appearances to slide, even without any audience.

How he loved the way they hesitated for half a second before placing their small hand within his own, the way he could hear their heart stop for just a moment as his claws closed around their fingers. Such a fragile mortal soul, and yet Raphael could not deny that they had impressed him. He had told them once, that he had grown fond of them in his own way, and not one syllable of that had been a lie.

—

“Where’s the orchestra?” Tav finally found their voice in the genuine confusion at how there was now a swirl of beautiful music wrapping around them, as they gazed up towards the Cambion’s stern features as if looking for their answer in the charming wrinkles that decorated his face so beautifu- 

“The invisible choir sing when they are bidden, Little Mouse.” He spoke with a slight smile in the edge of his voice, the implication of a hundred lost souls just out of sight and at his command… It was not helping slow the rate of Tav’s racing heart. Raphael held such power so easily, so casually… His words were law, and his laws were as immutable as the Devil’s own capricious charms. “Do you not like the melody? It can be changed in but a moment if-” “No, no! It’s wonderful, really.” Tav almost bit their own tongue to punish it when they realised they had interrupted him mid-sentence. “I- Sorry I didn’t mean to…” Their voice lost all power under the burning gaze of the cambion above them, though to their surprise his expression creased into a smile within a moment. 

“Music, Mouse, was made to be danced to.” Raphael pulled them closer, one hand still entwined with theirs, his other wrapping easily around their waist. It was difficult to reach his shoulder when he was in this form, so Tav had to settle for gripping the sleeve that barely hid the strength beneath.

The musicians, still unseen, rose to a crescendo with a swell of strings as the devil began to lead their dance. 

Masterful feet wove a path around the ballroom, sweeping Tav between the shadows of a hundred fellow dancers who had neglected to attend the grandiose event made for two. No dream that had drifted through their sleepless nights could compare to the reality of the warmth of his hand on the curve of their back, no waking reverie of romance could match up to the almost weightless sensation of their waltz. Nothing could have prepared Tav for the moment he leaned over, taking the balance of their weight on his arm as he dipped them low, leaving his lips just a hair’s breadth from their own. 

Before they could catch their breath, or gather their senses enough to steal the kiss they had long dreamed of, the devil smirked and lifted them back to their feet. Their mind was spinning in the same manner as their body did while the dance continued, each move a push and pull that brought them tantalisingly close only to create distance once more. 

The heat of the cambion’s body, the grace of his movements, the danger of being so close to the power and devilish charm he possessed… Tav felt like they were dancing in the heart of a fire, and they had not one care if they were to burn to ash right there and then. 

—

Raphael savoured each moment like a delicacy. Watching the breath catch in Tav’s throat, seeing their pulse quicken almost imperceptibly through the exposed part of their neck, noticing how their lips almost wanted to chase him every time he pulled away. 

He had often spoken to them of how he preferred clients to be desperate, to be left with no option, no thought beyond turning to him and begging for his aid. This was…not the same, not quite. He did not want them broken and bowed with their knees in the dirt, he wanted…not an equal, but something close. Someone who could challenge him. Someone who would desire everything he was and everything he could be, but one who would not be afraid to chase it. 

And thus, Raphael had set the lanceboard pieces upon the table, making each move and daring Tav to take what they wanted. Were he to be the one to show his desire for them openly? That would not do, the balance of power would shift. He had perhaps gone far further than he might have liked in creating this moment, in calling them his favourite client, in revealing his fondness for them more than once… But that was the limit of his grace in showing them he was receptive to an advance. They had to be the one to want him, and he was to be the one to so generously allow them to be close. 

“You dance well, Little Mouse.” A simple compliment, earning him a smile and the blush that spread across their cheeks - of course, it helped that his whisper was directed into their ear, lips almost brushing the ever reddening tip.

“I could say the same of you, Raphael.”  Ah, there it was. A little more confidence, that edge of bravery returning, driven by the desire he was stoking within them so carefully. He allowed one more soft breath across their ear - a gentle bellows to grow the flames within them - before he pulled away again. 

This time, however, Tav was faster.

—

The tension was infuriating. Tav couldn’t tell if Raphael was merely teasing them, or waiting for them to make the first move. Either way, if they didn’t do something about it soon, they were certain it would leave them with nothing but a lifetime of regret when the music reached its final cadence. 

The depth of his voice, the heat of the air that carried it, the scent of his perfume so close to them… When the cambion tried to move away this time, their hand found a grip on his horns instead, holding him a few inches from their face as he embraced them in a dancer’s dip in his arms. 

“Not this time. Wait.” They had meant it as a request, but desperation turned the words to more of a command.

“Issuing orders? To me?” Raphael’s eyebrows raised, a slight smile toying at the edge of his lips. “My, my, Little Mouse. We have become so very brave in the face of the cat. Perhaps I should drop you right here upon the floor.” 

“You don’t want to do that.” Tav continued, emboldened in the knowledge he could have fully pulled away at any moment…yet he allowed them to hold him here. They even softened their grip to caress his horns, smooth, sharp, dangerous and regal… Everything that they admired in him.

“Oh? And what is it that I want from a mere mortal such as yourself?” His voice was subtly lower now, the spaces between his words saying far more than the sound. 

“I don’t know,” Tav admitted, their hand drifting from his natural crown to the side of his cheek, “but I know what I want. And I’m tired of waiting for it.” They threw caution into the depths of the inferno and stole his lips in a kiss, savouring the heat of his touch and the scent of cherry that was almost intoxicating as he softened, yielding - in so much as a devil would ever yield to a mortal - and returning their affection with his own. The cat might have set the trap, but as long as they still got the reward they had yearned for, the mouse did not care that the cambion’s claws were firmly embedded in their soul. They had danced to his tune, waltzed right onto the board of his game willing to sacrifice every piece they had if he were to ask.

—

Devil. The name that most would give the man with a crown of horns, eyes like living fire, and a burning desire to rule all the hells. And what would that make Tav, now? Willing to take his hand, to follow him into the depths of Avernus and beyond just to be at his side… Ally. No, more than that. This was no brokered deal of warring nations, nor a mere friendship between neighbours. Their goals had aligned, in such a way as they might. Partners, perhaps… Putting a name to the lack of space between their lips felt like a fool’s errand. Saviour. The title he gave himself when they first met had proven true, in its own way. Appearing when he wished to, giving them not what they wanted but only what they needed to prove themselves. To be worthy of him. “Raphael.” His name tasted all the sweeter whispered into his kiss, the last seal of a fate they would choose a thousand times without a second thought as he swept them away into the night.  

--- --- ENDING NOTES --- --- Would you dance with the devil? What song might you pick for his invisible orchestra to play for you as he whisks you around the ballroom? Thank you for joining me with these little event pieces, it's always fun to write some Raphael content~ He's truly fascinating and captivating as a character, we were blessed by some wonderful writing and performances in the game, with the stunning art and animation to match.

[adminbryantsaki]

Chapter Four: Admin, Initiated.

(This Au will follow the main events of the canon. In this AU, the tropes of fantasy and Omegaverse apply. The dynamics that can apply to people are Alpha, Luna, Beta, and Omega. The main ship is Erasermic x oc. I do not own the characters of My Hero Academia. Horikoshi Kōhei does. I also don’t own any of the fast-food franchises or any of the other references to other super hero movies or groups.  I own Bryant Saki. Here is her info Please do not steal.)

(These are the Headcanons. Please read these before the fic. Prologue Chapter Three ~ Chapter Five

Wc: 1,158

Tw: Omegaverse Shenanigans, polygamy, PTSD, Breeding kink, Breeding, trauma, fear, ED (eating disorder).

I woke up the next morning and changed into my suit before heading out, grabbing a quick breakfast as I made my way out the door and to the Admin HQ which I got the address to from my tablet.

I arrived at the building and walked inside. The place was very professional looking with everything in an off-white color that made all the other Admins stand out in their black suits and varying hair colors.  There was a lot of people bustling about doing tasks or running errands. A man about my age walked up to me and greeted himself as Hunter Wilkens. He seemed very serious and uptight, a no-nonsense type of guy. He asked me my name and I told him what it was before he turned on his heel and led me to the station where I would receive my Admin powers and be given a chance to customize my weapon that I had received the night before. I listened and followed him, keeping my head down as we ducked and weaved through the different departments in the place. Once we arrived at the Admin Powers Selection department, Hunter stood outside and waved for me to go inside which I didn’t get for a moment until he cleared his throat and looked at me. “We’re here. You may go inside.” He spoke. I nodded and went inside. In the room were two female Admins who greeted me warmly and invited me to come over. I walked over to them and they introduced themselves. “Can you explain to me the process? I’d like to know how this process works.” I asked and they nodded. “We’re going to scan you first to know what your quirk is then we will give you some options for your Admin Power.” “Oh, I can tell you what my quirk is already. I have something called ‘Water Dragon’.” I spoke. “Alright. We will add that to your file but we still need to scan you, sweetie.” One of the women said. I nodded and they directed me to a place on the floor where I would be scanned. I held still as I was scanned then I waited a moment before a screen appeared before me and gave me a list of all the attributes to my quirk. There were even a couple more to my quirk than I thought. Here’s the list:

Quirk: Water Dragon Abilities: Manipulate Water, healing with water, Telepathy, telekinesis, ability to create portals with water, create small inanimate objects with water, and can grow wings, horns, and a tail that can also retract back into the body.

Admin power options: Hyper water manipulation, sense souls living or dead and help guide them to their afterlife or use to locate a person that is missing, or weather manipulation.

I picked the ability to sense souls since I thought that it would be useful in a rescue situation. The admins picked the ability that I chose and told me to come back to where they were. I did so and they had two pills waiting for me that were green in color.

“These pills will grant you the ability you selected, but before you take the pills, you need to name your new ability.” One of them spoke. “I’ll name it Soul Sense. But some people might call it Sixth sense.” I spoke. They nodded and wrote down the new ability in my file before they handed me the pills and I took them both, knowing that the effects would be permanent. I then was told to go back out where Hunter would be waiting and he would take me to the next station.

When I left the room, Hunter stopped leaning against the wall and began to walk quickly down the hall, moving almost too fast for me to keep up. He led me to another room. “Inside this room is where you can customize your scythe if you wish.” He spoke and went back to scrolling through his tablet and typing some messages out. I nodded and went inside the room, curious as to what the customization options were.

When I entered, a tray on a robotic arm appeared and an automated voice sounded from somewhere in the room. “Please place your pen on the tray. It will be assessed and customization options will be presented.” The voice prompted me. I pulled the ballpoint pen from my pocket and set it on the tray. The arm pulled away and scanned my device. “Double-bladed scythe, standard edition. Customization options available. Would you like to customize your scythe, Miss Bryant?” The voice asked.

“Yes. I’d like to start with the handle.” I spoke and the computer system brought up a tablet like the one I was given yesterday that had different styles of handles to pick from. I picked a handle made from steel that had been wrapped in navy blue leather to give the wielder a better grip. I them moved onto the blades and picked a steel and iron alloy to make it stronger and more durable to attacks when in combat. I then had some small details added to the handle and leather wrapping where tree of life medallion with rainbow beads on the branches and a water droplet pendant was added to the leather grip and I etched some runes onto the edge of the blade near where the blades were attached to the handle. On one end, I wrote ‘ᛏᚺᛖ×ᚲᛟᛚᛚᛖᚲᛏᛟᚱ’ (The Collector) and on the other blade I wrote ‘ᛊᛟᚢᛚ× ᚺᚨᚱᚢᛖᛊᛏᛖᚱ’ (Soul Harvester), after that, I confirmed the changes and waited for the changes to be applied to the weapon.

After waiting a few moments, I was given my weapon back as the pen on the tray. The pen didn’t look different but I picked it up anyways and held the pen out from my body and clicked the top, watching the pen unfold into the beautiful scythe, I admired the weapon for a few moments before finding a button on the side just under where I rested my thumb on the grip and pressed it. Again, watching as the weapon folded back into a pen which worked at writing too. I smiled and thanked the machine for their help and left the room to find Hunter waiting for me. “All set? Good. It is recommended that new Admins go home and learn to control their new power and learn all about their list of characters that they have been assigned before their first day. Your first day is April 1st. Be at the U.A Campus at 7:00 am sharp, understood?” Hunter spoke. I nodded and thanked him. He then led me out of the building and I took the train home. When I got home, I told Taishiro everything about my experience at the Admin HQ over dinner. I then went to bed, excited for my first day on the job.

[redrocketpanda]

Wip game

Tagged by @parad0xymoron and living for this. Wip games are so fun!

Rules: In a new post, show the last line you wrote and tag as many people as there are words you like.

I'm actually gonna cheat a bit and give you all a pick 'n mix of the various wips I have on the go rather than do just one bc... why not (also i'm hoping it'll motivate me to finally finish some of them)! I'll post the last line(s) that I wrote for each. Nobody talk to me about how many wips I have. They breed like dust bunnies under the sofa.

Secret BB WiP

[redacted]

Fire on the Horizon - KRBK time skip fic

Now, every step was a leap of faith on an unknown world, a world reawakened by the spectre of Katsuki.

Terusumu (terushima/atsumu) fic

He likes being appreciated and desired, and all of the enjoyable things that come with it. But it has absolutely nothing to do with it being attention from Terushima; cocky, arrogant, blonde-haired, brown-eyed Terushima. Atsumu considers that part to be irrelevant.

What I Was Made For - skts

Because even though he hadn't really dared to hope, he now understands that awkward pause with sudden clarity. That although Omi couldn't bring himself to say the words, the act of reaching across the table, of closing the space between them, of touching Atsumu tells him everything he needs to know.  That he is loved. 

he was made to be broken - tav/astarion

“..if you do as I say, and serve me well, you'll find I can be very generous, even to wretches like you.”

Apotheosis - bkak greek mythology AU

"Withdraw and allow him to grow old, to see out his days as a beloved figure that will echo throughout mortal history. It will be painful but it will be nothing compared to what the Gods will do to you, of what they will leave you with."

Kunichi (Kunigami/Raichi) smut fic

He feels himself beginning to get hard at the mere sight of Raichi looking like this and tries to focus on his breathing, attempting to slow his heart rate down because Gods does he want to shove Raichi up against the wall and fuck him until he cries. But he's not done playing with him yet.

itadori/inumaki/sukuna smut fic

The hands that had been touching him with all of Itadori's clumsy passion now tightly grip Toge with a strength that makes him hiss. When he opens his eyes, it’s not the light, playfulness of Itadori that greets him but the oppressive glare of Sukuna. 

Kunigiri D&D AU

He looks now into smouldering red eyes that burn with the fury of the hells. A pair of twisted horns crown tall amidst flowing pink hair and demonic leathery wings sprout from Chigiri’s back. A thick tail flickers mischievously from side to side as Chigiri grins at him wickedly.   “You’re mine now, Kunigami Rensuke.”

I feel like I've been tagging a lot of people in things so for this I'm gonna restrict it to @ciunasboinin + @axreliono but anyone can jump on if they want to! <3

[bekmogen5fic]

Changeling types

This is some lore I wrote for a fic I'm writing about what happened to the changelings after gen 4. I'm still working on the history but here is some biology.

All changelings can 

Shapeshift 

Process wood/organics to make hive walls 

Drain and distribute love 

Firstborn- live in established changeling hives, almost no natural weapons (horns at the most) Chiten covers wings/lower back. Tend to be more pastel/cool tones but all colors are possible. Unmetamorphozised first born almost exclusively swear fealty to Queen Chrysalis. There is one exception, the Cocoon hive ruled by three Nymph siblings Cocoon(she/her), Pupae(she/her), and Husk(he/him). 

Everfree changelings are changelings that hatch in the everfree forest. They have many natural weapons, mostly horns and fangs but stingers are not uncommon. They tend more towards more vibrant colors and earth tones. They all have a horn on the tip of their snout from having to break out of a harder egg. 

Crystal changelings live/hatch in the crystal empire. Same as firstborn but shiny and more gifted in advanced magic. (no one in current cannon knows about them) 

Maturity levels (age in months) 

Larve - 0 - 7 - Changeling babies. No natural weapons. Can be metamorphosed if cared for by loving caregivers. When hatching a firstborn changeling will be similar to an 18 month old child, able to walk a few hours after birth and repeating words they heard in the egg (it is very important to talk to changeling eggs for this reason) will almost always be dull colors because they are still growing. Everfree changelings skip this stage in favor of longer incubation. 

Hatchling - 8 - 16 - firstborn hatchlings are still too young to begin education and so are in the full time care of parents or nannies. Everfree hatch around month 6 and are able to fend for themselves very fast. 

Child - 16 - 48 - school age - Everfree changelings begin to seek more high risk targets

Adult 48+ ready to do adult things, like get a job or pursue a masters. Everfree changelings past the worst of the danger. Having either found a place for them to survive or having been accepted into a hive. 

Most undercover changelings work as influencers/pop stars/ other jobs that entice affection from the public. This never results in metamorphosis. Changelings can store love within them, either for later or it can be shared with others. (not really relevant if they already have a positive relationship) 

In current equestria about 1 in every 16 people would be a disguised changeling. 

Current Equestria has a population of about 1 mil with the populations of the three tribes being roughly equal. 

[phantom-does-a-thing]

I NEED to design William like a phantom you don’t understand

[sociallyodd260]

Fic idea: Iruma is in the demon world so long it starts to affect him physically. He starts getting hints of demon traits and he is. Extatic.

Like, over time his teeth get a bit sharper, his ears a bit pointier, starts growing horns, and maybe a small tail or even actual wings, still tiny, no where near big enough to fly, but he has them at all and is so so excited. He's starting to feel like he truly belongs in the netherworld, and he absolutely never wants to go back. Now he's absolutely sure he never has to. And he's so. So excited. Just. Super wholesome. Like, one day when he's brushing his hair in the morning the comb gets caught on something and when he moved his hair out of the way there's tiny little horns growing and he's a bit shocked at first but gets so excited that he's starting to look like a demon like everyone else and he runs to show Sullivan and Opera with the biggest smile they've seen. He goes to school and his friends notice he's in a particularly good mood.

Maybe it's bc he's a growing boy and his environment is affecting him, maybe he's actually part demon but didn't now and now thats starting to show, who knows. That's up to you. I would absolutely love if someone wrote this I'd read the everloving fuck out of it. If you do write it, I don't care about credit or anything, all I ask is that you send it to me. I want this so bad but I know damn well I'm not gonna write it. If you do I will mouthkiss you.

[jelicoxoxo]

Tokyo revengers as dragons

—————

A/N: this was somewhat inspired by something somebody wrote of baji as a dragon and I was never able to find it ever again, so I decided to make more content following the same general idea. if you find that fic pls let me know omg. (AND I MEANT TO INCLUDE WAY MORE CHARACTERS BUT I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED IT AND COULDNT RE-SAVE IT AS A DRAFT so you’ll just have a part 2-3 coming in soon lolz)

Character list

Mikey, mitsuya, hakkai

——————

Mikey

You found him searching for food while out camping with your friends. You where originally looking for more firewood, but was greeted with a gold colored dragon about two or three feet taller than you, large spikes following down his spine all the way to the tip of his tail, and unreadable black eyes that sent chills down your spine. In an attempt to get rid of him and his growing curiosity, you started throwing items as you walked back to camp, which he eventually left you alone to inspect everything you dropped. But this attempt didn’t work for long, since he still followed you right back to your friends camp, and you only realized his stalking when your friends noticed him lurking in the trees, silent and observing. Yeah you all packed your things and left after that. But that didn’t stop your friends from dragging you back to this spot a month later to see if he was still there, which he was. Soon enough you found out that he actually isn’t as dangerous and scary as he appears to be, bowing his head with pleading eyes when you waved a large fish you bought as a sort of peace offering

Mitusya

Was a gift for your birthday, raised by dragon breeders, but was kept in a massive cage due to his reactive and protective nature. He was a beautiful dragon, black and purple colors blending perfectly together, white spots littering the underside of his wings to imitate stars, many long white spikes protecting his spine, and a large strong tail that he didn’t hesitate to swing around. But those lilac eyes did not look at you with the same adoration. You worked to gain his trust tirelessly, and successfully got him to eat out of your hand after a couple weeks— but he still froze up if you tried to touch him on your own. You decided to work at his pace, respecting his boundaries and learning to read his body language, which he quickly learned that you were no threat to him. When you became closer, you started learning how to ride him, which he liked to occasionally stop flying in mid air to scare you for his amusement. Is quick to protect you, standing between you any any threat, even if it’s another dragon twice his own size.

Hakkai

A dragon your parents shot out of the sky, which you begged them to let him live. They ignored your pleas, and kept him tied up for the night, planning to cut off his horns to sell, or find someone to sell the dragon to as a whole. You snuck out to free him that night, he couldn’t breathe fire as he was a water dragon, but spat water at you in self defense when you got close. He only stopped when you grabbed hold of the ropes on his wing, and started cutting away at it. When he was free, he jumped back from you, staring at your soaked clothes up to your amazed expression. You attempted to approach him further, which resulted in a low and rumbling growl from the massive blue dragon standing in front of you. Awkwardly, you backed away and kneeled, bowing your head to show submissiveness, which eased his tension quite a lot. But it didn’t seem to ease his suspicions, as he spread his wings and flew away just seconds later. The massive dragon didn’t return to that area, fearful of the same situation happening again, but almost immediately recognized you when he saw you by the springs he stays at.

[katsukikitten]

In which Shoto is an asshole Oni and I am the author that wrote the majority of this fic tipsy, you’re welcome! Bnharemcollab masterlist found here

Warnings: Non con bruv. Claws horns? He's an oni bud

"And they say he's been stealing the hearts of beautiful women for centuries. So don't go talking to any ole handsome man that steps over a threshold." The tour guide adds to the end of her ridiculous story about some Demon King that drags women to hell before she leads the group onto the next painting.

Still there was something captivating about the art work, how the man has his back to the viewer and how women bow to him, foreheads pressed into the tatami mats with their own bleeding hearts held high over their heads. Blood drips from their hands, splattering on the mats like rain or tear drops. The man, who is assumed to be the Oni, is looking over his shoulder, hand reaching out for the nearest offering. Both figures are forever suspended in brush strokes and desire for more. The closer you inspect the other worldly looking figure the more your gut tightens. His elaborate kimono hangs loosely from his body but you can still see the broadness of his shoulders, the thick bands of muscle on his forearms, the apparition of elongated nails when you look closer and finally the faint strokes atop of his two toned hair that are in the shape of sharp horns.

A God among men or maybe you should say a Devil among friends. A sigh escapes you as you admire the work before the tour guide announces the title, artist and time period of the next piece. “Wrath of the Mountain God.” A large man, with long hair so deep in hue you first mistake it for black, stands in a Kimono. His chest on display as he stands giving the view his profile, his eyes glow red in the light of the full moon, in his arms seems to be a maiden, a flower crown falling from her hair. It looks as if his strong form had just taken a step, beneath his foot begins a nasty fissure that gapes the Earth for miles and miles. The painting feels charged and emotions practically drip from the ink painting and yet still your eyes flicker to the painting to it’s right. At this angle you can see a faint shimmer in his smoky quartz colored eye. It sends a shiver down your spine as you feel a faint breath on the nape of your neck. Quickly you turn your head, craning your neck to look over your shoulder but no one stands behind you. Just another painting, “Golden God of Destruction.” Red gaze glowering as his hair drips gold, while he walks over the hellish landscape of cooling and erupting lava. You swallow thickly before following the tour guide onto the next section.

The tour lasts another half an hour but your mind lingers on the shimmering eyes of the dangerous entity. The more you think of him the bigger the sinking feeling in your gut becomes, not to mention the more you feel as if something is stalking your every move. Another quick glance over your shoulder as you exit the museum while you ponder over why this particular Oni was handsome when all of the other artworks featuring a yokai or oni were depicted as ugly, grotesque even.

Maybe it was because he was the King? You couldn’t be sure, all you knew is that you could understand why the women would rip out their hearts and offer them up to him. He was hot as hell, no pun intended.

Suddenly the fall air smells of frost and the threat of snow, you wrinkle your nose before you jump out of your skin. .

"So you liked the "Oni King, stealer of heart’s'' piece best?" A smooth voice calls from behind you, you press your hand over your rapidly beating heart as you try to catch your breath. Startled, you turn around to see a handsome man opening the gate, stepping over the grass line onto the sidewalk. Instantly you feel heat rush you as a cool autumn breeze swirls around fallen leaves around your boots.

"How did you…"

"I come here often and no one has ever stopped and looked at that piece as long as you have." He seems stoic and you can just barely see the corner of his mouth lift up. You take a moment to really drink him in, his tall stature, his hair a shocking white with contrasting red and a scar that sits beautifully over one of his gem stone eyes. One a smoky quartz and the other a bright turquoise.

You swallow thickly as you stare at the other worldly man, finding little to no words as your heart beats into your ribcage. You grip at the fabric of your jacket over your heart, it pounds against your rib cage like a fluttering wild bird.

"Where are my manners? I am Todoroki Shoto. But you can call me Shoto." Again he offers his barely there smile, "And you are?"

It's laughable how you stumble over your own name, you have never had issues talking to attractive people before, what the hell was your problem now.

“It sounds lovely.” He says your name, it rolls off of his tongue like music makes you swallow thickly, your knees threatening to buckle and you can’t understand why you’re acting like a love struck teenager again. There is a contrasting air about him, just like his hair. Passion and reservation, raging power and quiet tranquility, and the feel of it is making you dizzy. Tipsy almost, drunk if you linger here too long. Just as you’re about to express how you’ll be late for dinner he smiles at you.

Fully this time.

And you think your heart was going to claw out of its calcium coffin but it stalls when you notice that it doesn’t fully reach his eyes.

“Well since you have a good appreciation of art, would you care to join me in the garden, the Chrysanthemum are in full bloom this time of year.” You swallow as you look at him, a twinge of fear lingering in your blood that is soon lost as he steps over the threshold of the garden, waiting patiently.

“Uh, yea I think I can spare some time.” You smile nervously, he offers out his hand.

“Be careful, the step down can be quite steep.” A genuine small form on your lips now as you remember the first time you set foot into this garden and almost twisted your ankle. You step over the threshold, blinking against the late afternoon sun as you do.

Except when you open your eyes once more, you are no longer in the garden. There are no shrubs and bushes, no cinderblock wall of the old museum, something more sinister stands in its place. The sky is an inky black, the full moon hangs overhead shining down onto a small village that thickens the closer it gets towards a large feudal era looking castle. Fading sunlight filter behind you as you whip your head behind you. A giant Torri stands where the aging fence and garden gate stood before, a hazy image of an autumn afternoon in the shape of the gate rapidly begins to shrink. Panicked you lunge arm outstretched as if catching a full elevator as you’re running behind for a very important meeting.

If only your paralyzing panic was over something so trivial.

A strong set of arms wrap around your waist, pulling you towards a chiseled chest as hot breath whispers cooly in your ear.

“I wouldn’t do that if you want to keep all of your limbs, love.”

Shaking you glance over your shoulder before you watch the portal to home close up.

Just like that the landscape that could be seen through the gate was endless night and rolling hills dotted with homes here and there. When you turn to face your captor his eyes narrow as he studies you. His gem stone eyes glittering in the rich moonlight, following your hands up to your chest. He stills as he listens and while he looks you notice the horns growing from his head. Thin and shaped into a deadly point. He tilts his head as if you are bewitching before he leans closer, capturing your hair between his fingers. Now that you were in the moonlight, in the realm he ruled, you looked...familiar and the feeling made his chest tighten.

“How does your heart feel?” He asks, eyes anywhere but yours. You try to jerk out of his touch but his warm hand wraps around your bicep keeping you well within arms reach.

“My heart?! What does that have to do with me standing in HELL!” You scream and it echoes across the chilled landscape. Some women in kimono pass by, keeping their eyes turned down as they pass but once they are a few steps behind this brute’s back, they send you withering glares.

Your attention comes fully back to the man in front of you, or maybe you should say demon. He presses his hand over your heart with a puzzling look. Your body heats from the contact and embarrassment, you were sure he could feel how hard your heart was pounding. All the while his brows knit upwards.

“Seems you aren’t affected…”He murmurs to himself, tonguing his cheek. Suddenly he tears your sweater, pressing his hand against your chest and part of your breast.

“Hey!” You protest until a burning sensation blooms on your skin, when he pulls away you see kanji puckering up, that reads “Shoto”

“That should keep the lower demons away...for now.” He grabs onto your wrist tightly, too tightly before your world bends and blurs. Folding in on itself as if Space and Time were suddenly a beautiful origami paper creased until the maker was satisfied.

The world is bright when you open your eyes next, cradled in an abundance of candle light as your stomach sours causing you to lurch.

“Ugh, not on the tatami!” A woman’s voice scolds, but her state doesn’t help the nausea that hits you in waves. She wears a beautiful kimono, embroidered with gold and silver thread on violet cloth, the chest stained a deep cherry and a hole is where her heart should be. Her hands stained blood red and you back up, panting as you try to keep a level head.

“Get her cleaned up.” Shoto snaps, “I will want her in my room promptly.”

The women in the room shake slightly, keeping their heads down, distantly you can hear the sound of a thousand thundering hearts, deafening in a sense. The stately woman gently guides you towards the bath in the large mansion, shock sets in as your gaze glazes over. Every hall has a woman, anywhere from the feudal era to today, all dressed in kimonos, most were dressed in the ones they obviously died in or dressed in old clothes with their tattoos and fresh wounds peeking out from beneath the fabric.

Every single person sends you a death glare.

You’re stripped of your clothes and dignity in the company of about twenty women, hands shove you into the steaming water, cupping the cloudy water to wash your skin.

No matter how often the woman dip their hands into the water, the blood never leaves their fingertips, forever stained in their sin.

“We gave them away, you know. Ripped them from our chests….” She looks up at you with a timid look.

“Kiyoko, hush.” An elder hisses as she straightens the thin piece of cloth you were going to wear once you were all pieced together.

“No, she deserves to know..” Kiyoko hisses back, “The story is similar for a lot of us, he appears in a doorway, he seems kind enough, and then we look into his eyes. Gazing too deeply before our hearts seize in our chests, flopping around as if behind your flesh was killing it and it should sit in the palm of his hand. The only logical thing was for us to reach deep inside of ourself and give him what he deserved.” A quite falls over the room before a heavy solem air settles on your shoulders.

“He stopped for a while….after he met you.” Your eyes flash to hers and the elder’s hand wraps into Kiyoko’s hair, pulling her away from you.

“Enough.” She snarls as tears run down her cheeks, down all the women’s cheeks and you swallow thickly.

After an hour of primping you find yourself in front of two sliding tatami doors that have Oni and other yokai decorating their sheets.

“Send her in.” A deep voice sounds from the other side.

“Yes master.” The women answer, opening the doors before one shoves you in.

Doors to the eqwaa are open as he lounges on the polished wood, staring at the moon. He turns his head to look over his shoulder and it eerily reminds you of the painting in the museum.

In an instant he is in front of you, backing you into the plush bed that sat in the middle of his room, you fall onto the raised futon looking up at him.

The lowlight plays tricks on your eyes, the square paper lantern and the moon painting him in strokes of kind, of hurt, not some beastly thing he obviously was. Even his horns seemed soft, but nothing was softer than his lips as he pressed them to yours. Embarrassingly ecstasy blossoms under your eyelids as liquid heat floods your core. His tongue probes yours as he leans over top of you, playing with you nipples through the thin cloth as you moan into his mouth. Your body arches into his his as your heart flutters, trying to pull you away from his addicting touch.

Maybe you could have gotten away, maybe….

If only his hand hadn’t slipped between your thighs where he teased your sex utnil you pruned his figners, singing like the song bird he knew you were. His hard cock presses against your thigh twitching with delight. He kisses down your throat before he shreds the thin white kimono away from your body. He groans audibly before he leans down, one finger pulling at your pebbled nipple while the other pulls it between his teeth.

“Shoto…”You cry and he moans into your supple skin. Taking off his own thin kimono to align himself up to your fluttering hole. Eyes glued to your heart, fingers tracing the kanji as he eases himself in inch by inch. Stretching you and filling you pleasantly. He sits for a moment, taking in your body and how you burn under his touch. Free hand roaming your body as the other prods your fresh burn. Tracing the strokes over and over as if he wrote it himself.

Well technically he did.

“Please.” Your mouth betrays, hips pressing up into his to get any sort of friction, his free hand comes down, slamming your hips into the bed.

“Say it again.” He huffs, “Say my name again.”

“Shoto.” It's a hushed, reluctant breath but your skin was icy hot, lifeforce feeling as if it were evaporating away from the heated tension that sat between you two. He watches your body wither, feels your cunt clamping down onto him desperately and it’s all he can do not to thrust into you widely.

“Again.” He barks, pulling at your nipple harshly.

“Shoto.” You moan, the sound is enough to make him start his harsh pace. Pelvis slamming into yours as his tuft of pubic hair glides across your clit. Your vision blurs with tears, it feels so good. Better than anything you’ve ever had or could ever remember as his claws ghost over your soft skin.

“You thought you could escape me.” He grunts, ramming himself into you harder, you moan in response, “I marked more than your flesh two hundred years ago, I marked your soul.”

“You couldn’t help yourself, coming back to the very piece of art you created.” He continues with a laugh, claws raking down your skin, slicing at your skin superficially. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you cannot fathom what he’s said. All that there is the feel of his hands, the pleasure that threatens to snap in your stomach.

He watches the way your cunt coats his cock in a silvery sheen that has his lips parting. Taking wanton ruts, the motion of it rattling the art on the wall. Pieces fall around you and any of the scrolls that try to block his view of you get shredded mid air. His thrusts turn sloppy as he comes down to bite at your neck.

“Shoto!” You cry out, vision going black as your body convulses around him, eyes rolling in to the back of your head as you forget your name and only cry out his.

“That’s right, tell me who you belong to. Who owns you love.” He pants, holding his own release for a moment longer just to hear your sweet voice scream his name over and over. Finally your milking cunt sends him over the edge. He grunts, staring into your eyes as he paints your wall a creamy white.

“Mine.” He growls, biting at your breast, at the skin over your heart. You feel his spilling cock harden again as your body melts into the sheets.

Most of the night is spent in mind numbing ecstasy and in those few short hours you forget you were ever brought here unwillingly.

You sit on a throne, overlooking the vast landscape of Yomi, Oni running the underworld as heartless women wander the streets. Their mortal heartbeats keeping time as they ceaselessly beat just beneath your feet. Mind’s eye miles away as you see a ghost of a hand before you. Memory playing out as you take careful brush strokes against your canvas, hoping this would serve as a warning for other women as you dab the brush in the deep colored liquid that stains the tatami floor of your home.

Ever the artist you wanted to add final touches even as you drew your final breaths, having thought it better to take your own life than to sit at the right hand of a demon, your chest was already mutilated with his name.

Irony weighs heavy in your stomach as you realize how futile it was to even make that masterpiece. It did not serve as a warning.

No if anything, it served as a beacon, drawing you like a moth to flame until you circled to close.

Burning up in the flames of the very thing you admired.