#I don't want to be thin to look good I want to be thin to look like a scene kid with a drug problem

[shotmrmiller]

in which johnny gifts the love of his life a sex toy outta nowhere

when you mumble into the phone that you miss him, johnny, he pauses for a second, then tells you he's going to bring you a gift back home. "to keep ye company, hen." after, he locks himself in a bathroom stall and watches you play with yourself until you both come.

but you'd thought he'd bring you a pet. a live animal that needs a cage to be brought across the world, not a long, slim unmarked box.

it's a sex toy. and it's rather large, at that. your hand wraps around the base, fingertips still a good inch apart.

"and i'm supposed to be using that?" his arms wrap around your waist, his thick stubble grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, raising goose flesh.

"don't like it? only had ye in mind, hen." he presses a wet kiss on your fluttering pulse. you've never really talked about toys in your relationship. you don't need them, of course, and johnny more than makes up for the time lost between you two whenever he's home but this?

"i don't know," you mumble. "a bullet would've made more sense, i think. at most a rose." his hands run up your sides, to the swell of your breasts and give you a gentle squeeze. he doesn't believe the tripe of people valuing size over all else, does he? the thing is easily as thick as your forearm and it's corded with veins. and it's uncut. whoever is making these are going to extreme lengths to make it as realistic as possible.

he bucks his hips, prominent bulge in his jeans coming to rest in the small of your back. of course he'd get excited. menace.

"ye willnae have t'use it alone now tha' i'm here. 'sides, i think ye'd look perfect with my pretty kitty stretched thin around it." johnny grabs your hips firmly, creating small divots as his grip tightens. "maybe i'll watch ye fuck yerself on it, hm? lap at yer clit while ye do." liquid heat pools in your belly, pulsing hot between your legs.

he really wants you to use it, given by his ragged breathing and he rutting himself against you. fine. "okay. just, not right now, yeah? i want only you in me." his eyes burn fluorescent as he nods, his large hand cradling your head as he pulls you in for a kiss.

you missed this. the sweet sting of his cock sliding home in your aching cunt, the sharp pinch below your navel when his tip comes to sit snugly against the plug of your womb. you've missed this. missed him.

maybe he'll forget all about that monstrosity sitting in the box.

-

he doesn't. he's bringing it up hours later, his spend still dripping warm on your thighs. johnny cannot be serious.

"course i am, hen." his fingers sweep at the hair stuck to your sweat-slick forehead. "is it a crime to want to see ye split open on some- something else?"

you think nothing of his stutter. "alright," you groan. if that's what he wants. it'll be interesting to see just how much you can take. you'll never tell him that your pussy clenched around nothing at the thought, his cum trickling out faster, pooling on the sheets.

-

it's not warm. the tip of it presses against your swollen entrance, cold in contrast to your heated flesh. johnny watches you swallow a gasp, your trembling hands reaching for his as you slide down an inch, two, three. johnny's cum is wonderful lube, but the searing burn- the size of toy is overwhelming, your walls being wrenched apart as you glide down further. johnny presses a prickly kiss on your cheek, cooing in your ear all the while his clever fingers draw gentle circles on your clit. "focus on breathin', bonnie. yer tensin' up."

desire begins to bubble beneath your skin, pleasure causing your muscles to warm and slacken, and after a long couple of minutes, you find yourself at the base.

but then johnny grabs your hips from behind and pulls- oh. "that's it." if you'd thought the toy had originally been in your stomach, it's now in your throat. "pretty as a peach, hen. jus' wha' i wanted to see." a shiver dances up your spine, notches trembling as you get used to the unforgiving stretch of the toy. his breath warms the side of your neck. "on yer go."

you come around it no less than three times, leaving it milky and johnny cleans it up with his mouth before he cleans you up.

-

the girth of it is something you'll never get used to but it does get easier. when johnny goes back to work, he tells you that all he asks for are videos of you using it. for his collection, he greedily says.

you send him as many as you can, no matter the hours. just a quick nsfw text before getting his thumbs up and away it goes. it's incredibly fun. the relationship hadn't been dull by any means, but this just feels invigorating. you feel rejuvenated. that johnny is your biggest cheerleader while using it is such a bonus.

you oughta marry him. maybe you'll elope the next time he's home. but when the next time comes, johnny calls you instead of messaging you the usual be home soon text.

and it sends you reeling.

bonnie. the toy treat ye well while i was gone?

no better than you could me, but yeah. i'm still sore from using it in the last video i sent you.

that's great. if ye like the toy then ye'll love the real thing, i ken. we'll be there in 10.

[rebelfell]

So, I don't wanna say I'm writing this as a full fic, buuuuuuuut……

“Hey,” he said quietly as he came up next to you. “You good?”

For a moment, you considered lying. Flashing him a thumbs up or shooting him finger guns like one of those tools you used to do this with. But you knew better than that when it came to Eddie.

“Nope,” you smirked, “I’m kind of shitting myself.”

“Well, that’s just what the guy about to fuck you wants to hear,” he chuckled back.

A real smile breaks through your tense, fake one and a genuine laugh bubbles up out of your chest. Eddie’s eyes shine when he hears it, and the sight makes your chest feel all warm.

“Sorry,” you said. “I’m okay, I just… I don’t know why I’m nervous.”

His lips pressed in a thin line, the tip of his tongue poking out as he licked them. He reached out his hand and placed it on your shoulder to rub it through the material of your robe.

“You’re gonna be great,” he assured, sounding a lot more certain than you felt.

Easy for him to say. He’s a fucking natural. 

Even on your best day doing this, you never felt like you were great at it—competent, sure. Maybe even above average. But not great. Not at all like you’d felt since getting behind the camera.

You nodded tightly, your hesitation still written all over your face. His eyes scanned over you and he swallowed harshly, his throat bobbing with it. He leaned in and placed his lips beside your ear.

“You look…really beautiful,” he said.

His warm breath skittered across your neck, the warmth coming off his skin making your cheeks hot. There’s an explosion of fluttering deep in your stomach, like there were cocoons in your cereal that morning and now they’re all hatching.

“We should get moving,” you said, pulling away. “Burning daylight.”

Eddie straightens up. He nods and you nod back, sliding past him to do your last checks before you start rolling. Telling yourself he must’ve pumped or popped a Viagra to explain away that bulge in his pants that definitely wasn’t there before he came over to talk to you.

[lina-linny]

summary: yn is insecured about talking to much but her boyfriend hyunjin is there to comfort her

genre: hurt, comfort, fluff

words: 1k

It was a typical Friday evening. As always, Yn stumbled through the door of the small apartment she shared with her boyfriend Hyunjin just as he sat down in front of his canvas. Loaded down with bags, she tried to get rid of her shoes with moderate success.

"Yn-aaaaah how was work, love?"

"Good," she replied curtly, putting down one of her numerous shopping bags, which were filled to the brim. Hyunjin was taken aback. When yn came home on Fridays, she usually never stopped talking to him about her work. About how much fun she had with her new project at work, what she had for lunch or what her annoying colleague had done again. It wasn't like her to be that curt and dismissive, hyunjin realized with a frown. shrugging his shoulders, he began to draw. maybe she was just tired.

yn was completely caught up in her usual routine. everything was the same as always. But instead of looking forward to the weekend with her boyfriend and finding comfort in her upcoming weekly "painting-tea-talking ritual", she was plagued by countless self-doubts today. Was she not pretty enough? Was she really annoying hyunjin? Was she too loud?

Sighing, she walked through the kitchen and put the freshly bought groceries away in their designated places. When she had put the last can in one of the cupboards, she put on some tea water and opened the shelf with her thousands of cups. without thinking about it, she pulled out her comfort cup and filled it to the brim with hot water. looking at it, the cup wasn't particularly pretty. the design was peeling off nicely because of the frequent washing, and yet it was perfect in yn's eyes. it had been the first gift hyunjin had ever given her. when she met him, she was stuck in one of the darkest periods of her life. plagued by insecurities, stress and unhealthy relationships, hyunjin had smuggled himself into her life as a small glimmer of hope and when he wasn't there or she couldn't express her worries, she clung to the cup.

Ironically, the reason she needed to hold her cup today was her fear of losing hyunjin. Was she too exhausting? lost in thought, she picked out a tea bag and carefully let it disappear into the water in the cup. then, as usual, she sat down next to hyunjin, who by now had a rough sketch on his canvas and greeted her with a beaming smile.

the artist had been looking forward to her usual ritual all day. yn could only muster a half-hearted grin. as she slumped into her usual chair, hyunjin waited patiently to finally hear all about her day. he was dying to find out whether her colleague ayumi had so obviously made a move at her much too old and happily married boss again, or whether linh from the marketing department had spilled her coffee on her colleagues again and had brought these heavenly muffins as an apology for the chaos, which yn would quote "kill for". in both cases, this would be the third time in a month. but instead of the usual gossip, a depressed silence followed. hyunjin tried to ignore the silence by turning his attention back to the painting in front of him.

he began to paint a dark blue. he carefully let the brush glide over the canvas. as he always did. as he had done hundreds of times before and yet it was wrong. the line was wrong. it didn't show what his heart wanted to express. it was too big and too small, too wide and too thin. it lacked any warmth, just like hyunjin. the room was warmed by the rays of the setting sun and his sweater gave his body a pleasant temperature but it didn't reach his heart.

"yn-ah what's wrong? why don't you talk to me? you can't make me beg so brutally. give me all the tea!" hyunjin's mouth twisted into a pout and made yn smile slightly.

"I don't know, Jini... I talk too much anyway... I don't want to distract you from painting." to say hyunjin was confused would be an understatement. he furrowed his brow worriedly.

"jagia where did you get the idea that you talk too much? i love to hear you talk. especially when i'm painting! i want to know how your day was. every day! i want to hear everything you have to tell me my muse. i can't paint without you. the lines don't get right the painting can't really convey what i feel but when you're with me, when i hear your honey sweet voice it just becomes real love. i never want you to shut up understand?" hyunjin curled his shapely lips into a pout as if his girlfriend had personally attacked him with her previous statement.

"okay, okay jini!" yn laughed, but hyunjin didn't want to let the whole thing go so easily.

"jagi, what makes you think you talk too much?" hyunjin shifted so that his full attention was on his beloved. he looked at her anxiously as she nervously kneaded her hands and clutched her cup for support.

"well... i just thought... you know, hana, you know the one who regularly sleeps with the ceo... i was talking about our date where we went to see this beautiful van gogh exhibition and well... she said i always talk way too much and that i never let anyone get a word in edgewise. and... maybe she also said that... she's surprised that someone like you is still with me at all... and i mean she's not entirely wrong, is she? i always talk so much. when you paint i ramble non-stop. you don't get a word in edgewise and i'd understand if you were annoyed with me for that... or something"

"ohh love..." hyunjin sighed and wrapped his girlfriend in a warm hug, pulling her onto his lap, which she only commented on with a sad smile.

"have you forgotten that I always ramble the same way?" He lovingly nudged her nose, which made her giggle.

"i sometimes ramble on for hours about how great our new choreography is or how annoyed i am with one of the boys and as far as i can remember you always love to listen to me. so please don't stop. you shouldn't listen to hana this little..."

yn stopped her boyfriend from uttering a sinful insult to hana by placing her soft and tea-warmed lips on his. hyunjin sighed into the kiss and pulled her closer to him. Their lips moved as if they had never done anything else before. They danced a dance whose choreography only they knew. Hyunjin's hands were soon in her hair as he tried to take away her insecurities with his kiss alone.

panting, they broke away from each other but hyunjin didn't let her escape from his strong arms. slowly, he covered her now laughing face with kisses. smiling, hyunjin buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled her scent. "soo... are you going to tell me how your day was, my muse?" he asked, pressing a tender kiss to her sensitive neck, which made her giggle.

"okay... do you know how annoying hikaru was today? he's been running around all day and..." hyunjin returned to his canvas even though one of his hands was now occupied holding yn's, who by now was sitting in her own chair again, sipping her tea as she talked.

by now, the sun had disappeared and was replaced by the soft shimmer of the moon. the cool evening air wafted through the open windows of their shared apartment and yet hyunjin was much warmer than he had been just a few minutes before. her voice dripped like liquid honey straight to his heart and the soft giggle that had just left her lips made hyunjin beam. he carefully applied the brush and... the line was perfect.

[spookypete-94]

Choices have Consequences

Being friends with both Simon and Johnny, you try your best to convince Simon he's better than the man who raised him at the request of Johnny. All because Johnny wants a family... It's you who pays the price.

GhoapxFem!reader

CW for language and pregnancy, baby trapping if you squint??

"You don't know that." Simon grumbled refusing to look up at you. This whole conversation has been unwanted and awkward to him. Not only was he receiving the same message from Johnny, but now you too?

You had been a long time friend to both of them, meeting in the service and proving each other through thick and thin. That didn't mean he appreciated your mock sympathy.

"I do know that, Si. No better men I trust more than you and Johnny. You'll both be wonderful parents."

"Don't wan' be like him." You knew what he was referring to. He was afraid to be a parent and end up like his father.

"You ever think it's that cognitive choice that makes us better than the people who raised us? The fact we don't want to be like them? I think it does and because you remember what you had growing up, it's going to make and keep you different."

Brown coals looked up through you from the slots of his mask. A fire ignited peeking through the black war paint that you could see on his skin.

"Ya' mean that?"

"I do. Think you're a good man for the job. Both you and Johnny are going to raise some wonderful children." Reaching across lightly squeezing his hand that was next to his mug full of tea.

A heavy sigh left him as he nodded, taking in your words. A whole plan plotting in his head, taking seed and growing across his brain.

If only you could see it.

As a thank you for talking Simon into being open to having children, Johnny had invited you over for dinner a few days later.

Celebrating they pulled out the expensive whiskey, sharing it with you after a hearty dinner.Maybe that's what caused you to let your guard down. An invite to Simon and Johnny both.

It had left you in shock as Simon had you folded up against Johnny, slamming into you at a rough and hard pace. Each pant and heavy breath, him explaining that him and Johnny had decided to try the old fashioned way. Giving their seed to you for you to grow their much wanted baby. A piece of Simon and Johnny mixed with you. What better gift??

The more shocking part however was Johnny whispering in your ear over and over again of over flowing gratitude.

"Thank ya' hen, would never o' got this far wit' out ya'."

Simon pounded into you harder from the praise. You and Johnny cornering him both about this?? Fine. A baby it is then, but you're going to help too dammit.

"Givin' me and Si the greatest gift. Our little family ey'?"

9 months later, a blonde brown eyed boy was born. Mission accomplished right?

It wasn't like Simon and Johnny had planned to keep you after this right??

Wrong.

A part of their little family you were, and a part of their family you would stay. Even if you wanted it or not, this is the price you pay for telling Simon he was a loveable man. You are theirs now.

Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist

[genderqueerdykes]

hi i’m sorry if this is too heavy of a question, but i was told that Testosterone HRT can make you die sooner if you go in it vs. if you don’t? is this true? i’ve tried looking up medical articles but i’m not good with researching this kind of thing and i’m not currently seeing a doctor so i can’t ask them. thanks for the help

hi there!

fortunately for you, and everyone who takes testosterone HRT: that is a trans(andro)phobic, antimasculine, butchphobic, and intersexist myth spread by radfems. there is no scientific or medical basis in anyone who has higher testosterone levels will guaranteed have a shortened lifespan

what is happening when people propose that argument is they are taking what can possibly happen to some people who have high T and/or take testosterone HRT and blow it way out of proportion. some of the POSSIBLE complications testosterone HRT COULD present are:

high/elevated blood pressure in some people

increased red blood cell production, which Can lead to easier clotting if blood is not donated or medications are not taken to thin the blood in some people

reproductive health issues in some people

liver and/or kidney damage in some people who are prone to liver/kidney issues, and/or take more testosterone than prescribed

there can be other complications, but the point stands that these are all potential things that can happen to some people. not every person who takes T gets elevated blood pressure, for example. many people had low blood pressure beforehand and find that they are more stabilized. many people who previously were underweight benefit from a bit of weight gain. most people who take T do not overproduce red blood cells in a dangerous amount, but in folks who do, there are options to mitigate this.

some people cannot take T due to health issues, and that's okay, that person is not detransitioning in order to preserve their health. these people deserve to have their situations taken seriously. but, not everyone faces health troubles due to starting hormones. people can also have adverse affects on health when taking estrogen. there is always a risk of harming one's self when introducing substances into the body in higher amounts than it was previously used to.

most people have some levels of both estrogens and testosterone in them at all times. elevating or lowering anything can cause a shock to the system but a lot of the time, these things are temporary or can be solved with medication. many people just never experience any of this. there's no guarantee that anyone will be harmed by taking testosterone HRT

i hope that helps! i can't believe this has gotten to be so widespread. i appreciate you taking the time to ask. i've been on T for 9 years. had my heart checked last year because i had an extra beat that was unnerving me due to being constantly exposed to cigarette smoke. my heart is healthy, my blood pressure is easily managed by 1 medication, i don't have an issue with blood clots, and my liver and kidneys have been checked twice within the past year and they're good to go as well. people just assume that testosterone is evil ands pread the myth that it'll kill you because of antimasculism, trans(andro)phobia, butchphobia, intersexism, and man hating.

radfems have been trying to do everything in their power to turn people off of T because of how badly they hate men and mascs. if you want to look into starting T, your prescriber will run a lot of tests to make sure you are in good health for it. if not you may be able to use very low dose T. most people do not experience adverse health effects inherently due to T. i hope this helps!

take care! feel free to have any more questions you may have

[eccentricallygothic]

Psycho Husband!Steve Rogers who is a crazed coercive bastard.

Warning(s): Noncon, misogyny/sexism, depraved housewife kink, head shaving/hair cutting, he's a mental mf who thinks he is only doing what's best for you; cruel punishments are care and better sense according to him, age gap, fear kink, infantilization, humiliation, size kink. MDNI. 

. . .

You meekly sit atop your husband, Steve Rogers' lap as he feeds himself and you the dinner you meticulously prepared for him as he cares greatly for detail and perfection. 

The older man hums with each bite, one large paw caressing your back from over the thin -nearly sheer- material of one of the many dresses that make up the entirety of your wardrobe. 

“Absolutely delicious, baby, good job” he has been praising you with each bite and so you cannot help but smile at the compliments, your smaller body resting against his as you gently comb his hair with your fingers.

This is good.

Him being pleased is good.

“Thank you, my heart” you kiss his cheek that he had shaved just this morning when you were on your knees getting rid of his morning wood. He usually does that at night but you chose to wear a certain dress yesterday that caused for you to remain trapped in bed from the moment he got home till the both of you woke up tangled and sticky.

“See?” Now his fingers silkily glide up the length of your spine, past its dents that appear on your nape and towards your scalp that holds no barriers between your skins. “Wasn't I right?” Steve's fingertips flex all over your shiny head that he keeps empty from any hurdle between yourself and him. “Didn't it make things all better for us, hm?” Your tongue grows heavy and you feel it beginning to swell.

But you must not speak your mind.

For you are not allowed to have one.

“Yes, hubby, you were” you feel him stroke the bald crown of your head and the feeling of his coarse skin rubbing your soft and moisturized one sends shivers down your spine. 

His dark but relaxed blue eyes watch you, outwardly friendly but secretly inspecting you closely for the tiniest slip up. “Just too stupid to see it back then, weren't you?”

You nod nervously, offering him a smile as you avert your gaze from his, choosing to awkwardly play with his dress shirt instead. “Yes, hubby, I was.” Before you look up momentarily. He hates it when you don't look at him while speaking. “Thank you for teaching me better.” 

“And what did I teach you?” You bite your tongue, his words scalding your ears. 

Of course, he wants you to say it.

It is a routine that he likes to do every night. 

“That you are always right because you know better.” You resist the urge to cringe from how he suddenly gives you a burst of praise head rubs. 

It is a trap, meant to set you off.

He knows you don't like his hand rubbing your bald head like you're some kind of an animal and he still does it.

You've made the mistake of fighting back one too many times in the past.

But now you know it never fares well for you.

So better to just obey.

“Yeah?” His eyes begin to dance all over your form in that lewd fashion of theirs. “And how did I teach you that?” This is nothing new, and yet your heart drops.

“You taught me by…” Your face becomes hot from the embarrassment and humiliation. “B- By…” Fuck.

Even after all this time, it's no easier to do it. 

“By?” You can feel his sick arousal poke into the back of your thigh. He shifts to readjust himself. “Know what, honey?” He actually has the gall to sound friendly like he's doing you a favor out of the goodness of his heart. “I'll help your little mind out by giving you a hint.” You cannot hold his gaze anymore. So you drop your eyes and train them on his collars as you whimper into his cheek from how he hugs you closer with the arm he has draped around you. He loves proximity. “It had something to do with a machine and a cute head” his long fingers caress your scalp in circular motions.

Your heart is erratic against his chest. “H–” the whimper you let out is shaky and pathetic. Your expression falters into one of pain but you recover just as fast. At least on the outside. “T- Taught me by shaving my head.”

Steve's smirk is one of pride. “Oh? And what setting did I shave it on? Did I leave anything behind or did you become a complete cueball?” 

Tears sting your eyes from the sensitivity and helplessness as you feel your throat tighten even more. “N- No, hubby. Nothing was left. You shaved it all off…” Closing your eyes momentarily is the only way you can let out your next words. “Until I was a cueball.”

“And why was that, huh, baby?” Now he speaks to you like you're a child. 

He does that when he is horny. 

The realization makes your stomach twist.

“B- Because you warned me many times but—” your voice breaks and you softly sob into his cheek all of a sudden because the memories overwhelm you. “I didn't l- listen and my hair kept getting in the food I would prepare for you.” He somberly cooes and lowers your head forwards in a submissive position to caress the links of your spine.

“Oh, honey. Is that what happened?” Though Steve rests his cheek atop your bald head that he keeps shiny with scented oils and feigns sadness his bulge is too stiff against your tender skin for his little act to hold any weight. 

“Yes, hubby.” Your tears fall on your lap. 

“And how did it happen, huh, darling?” He loves the helplessness of your situation. That has got to be it. “Can you tell me?”

You nod and swallow the bile in your throat. Denial is not an option. “The scary razor went all over my head, hubby” you make yourself sound like a baby because that's what he likes. “Like buzz buzz buzz~” you try to mimic the sound and gesture as you run a pretend trimmer over your naked scalp. 

“Aw, it was scary for your little baby self, was it?” You timidly nod, pouting a little. “That's because you're so small and easily scared, aren't you?” He presses kisses all over your head and pinches your cheek. 

“Yes, hubby.” 

“Aw, my poor girl” he cups your face and lets his thumb trace the shape of your mouth. “I get it, you’re just a baby” he cannot but kiss you deeply before speaking again. 

“But it was necessary, wasn't it? And it worked” it is typical of him to seek validation for his unhinged actions from you, probably helps him sleep easier and pumps his pompousness further. “No more hair in the food.” He smiles and forces you to look at him by tipping your head back.

“No more hair in the food.” You echo him like the hollow doll he has made of you.

“Awww” he chuckles at the dejection in your voice. “Cheer up, silly. You look just as perfect as the first moment I laid my eyes on you” his lips repeatedly peck yours for a few moments. Then he continues. “I am the only one whose opinion matters for you and I think you're the most gorgeous thing alive” he scoops you up in his arms before standing up and you give him a smile like you're supposed to. He leans in to capture it in his own. “The cueball only makes you sexier and more nude for me. So it's a win all around” you whimper into the words he utters against your mouth. “C'mon, hubby will make you feel all better.” He whispers before carrying you to the bedroom. It is impossible not to be aware of your devastation and that is why he offers compensation the way he does. “Yeah?”

All you can do is nod defeatedly.

. . .

If you made it down here, hi you're cool. 

[ughgoaway]

Ok so maybe the walls of neighbor matty and girlie’s building are kinda thin so when she fucks he can hear everythinggg and he’s laying there like Oh my god i’m a pervert but she’s so hot and he’s imagining what she must look like all sweaty and naked and moaning like that… and he just slooowly starts getting off, shirt CLENCHED between his teeth to keep himself quiet because if He can hear Her the reverse has to be true as well and then he cums all over himself wishing he was the one making her scream like that

and then maybe takes advantage of the fact she can definitely hear him getting off at a later date teehee 😇😇

Oh ABSOLUTELY, heather your mind>>>>>

(18+ below the cut, please!! also this might be shite i haven't written properly in 76 years. 1.4k ish!!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

You've just been on yet another date, and you know there's no future there at all. His going on for 45 minutes about his latest stock investments in crypto made that clear. But you also know there doesn't need to be a future for him to get you off. So you flash your doe eyes and invite him up to your place, letting the strap of your dress slip and a glimpse of black lace peek through. It doesn't take much before his hands are groping at your ass as the lift doors click closed.

And he's a fine kisser, and his skin on yours feels just the same as any other man. But when your hands slide into his hair, you can't help but subconsciously wish you were gripping unkempt curls, tugging at them and hearing that same moan you’ve heard through the thin walls of your bedroom late at night. You wish you could smell the woody aftershave that makes you roll your eyes every time it wafts your way, you want to hear just one voice whispering the things he's saying into your ear, and his gruff tone isn't scratching the itch you’re in denial about.

The sheets hit your bare back, and you watch with hooded eyes as your date scrambles to get his trousers down his legs, clearly eager to get inside you. And knowing how good you look right now, you're not surprised. His overheated lips touch the skin of your neck, and you decide then and there to put on the performance of your life. You don't want Matty, and your brain convincing you that you do is just because it's swimming in expensive wine and 2 shots of tequila. You want him, you want… John? No, James? Wait… did it begin with J? Oh well, you don't need to be coherent when you focus on his skin on yours. Breathy moans and whines will more than suffice.

Matty's eyes snap open the second he hears a low voice accompanying yours, the breathy faux giggle falling from your lips making him roll his eyes. As far as he's concerned, he's just annoyed about any noise, not that there's a man with you. Or that he's now in your bedroom, judging by the gradually louder speech. He fucking hates that his headboard and yours technically share a wall, bored of hearing all your shitty singing when you're getting ready in the morning. 

If he has to hear your rendition of Ain't it fun one more time, he's going to make an official noise complaint. Mainly because he loves it when you get pissed off and your eyebrows scrunch up as you yell at him. His heart tries to tell him it's because he finds you endearing, but his head refuses that fact.

He definitely doesn't feel like he loves anything when he hears the first wanton moan fall from your lips, and the louder they get, the more frustration builds inside him. What type of frustration is up for debate, but judging by the slowly growing tent in his trousers, it's not just pure annoyance. He really tries to stop focusing on your every noise, but it's hard when you sound like that. He swears he can hear every hitch in your breath, every shaky inhale and needy moan that comes from your ruby red lips.

He feels like a fucking creep and he's just about to reach for his headphones when you start getting louder, groaning and screaming like the girls he watches on Friday nights, one hand down his trousers and the other turning up the volume on his Macbook. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine what you’re doing. He can see you hovering above him, skin glowing red, flushed from your tits all the way up to the apples of your cheeks. His eyes flicker closed as he sees visions of your tits bouncing bove him, you pulling your hair to the side exposing your marked-up neck with a sly smirk covering your face. 

Goosebumps rise on his skin, and without realising it, his hand starts to slide down, groping himself over his thin boxers. A far too loud shaky gasp is ripped from his chest. He can't help but freeze immediately, nervous that somehow over the sounds of slapping skin and wanton grunts, you'd heard his weak gasp. But judging by the loud moan followed by “fuck- yes!” That he hears, you're obviously distracted by something else. Or somebody else.

Dilemma fills his mind. Or it does for a few seconds, but he can't stop himself from lying back down, pulling his boxers down his knees, dragging his shirt up over his skin and gripping it between his teeth, tugging at it to get a better view of his hand wrapping around his half hard dick. The first tug is heavenly, there’s just enough pull to make him hiss, but the shirt muffles any noises he makes, and the slight pain just feels so fucking good.

It doesn't take long before he's furiously pumping his fist to the sounds of you, ignoring the gruff grunts of the mystery man to instead focus on your high pitched moans followed by breathy praise that he knows is you. Matty's brain convinces himself each noise is for him, every gasp, whine, and whimper ripped from your chest is because you are thinking of him, wishing he was on top of you, dreaming of him inside you whispering filthy secrets into your ear as he bites at your neck.

His thumb brushes over his weeping tip, spreading beads of precum down his shaft, using it as lube to move faster, grip himself harder, to feel more. Each time his fist reaches the top of his erection, he can't help his hips jump into the contact, the same needy moan falling from his muffled lips. He swears he can taste blood, biting the shirt so hard he's sure he's catching his lip, the liquid iron taste overwhelming his senses in a way he can't bring himself to care about.

The air was thick and heavy around him, the smell of your perfume somehow filling his senses, his eyes flicking open to watch the red flush that covers his inked skin creep up his body, obscuring the small marks that litter him. Shaky eyes roll into the back of his head, fighting to stop his jaw-dropping and letting every grunt and groan escape. Part of him wants you to hear. He wants you to know he is getting off to you, to know that he wants you. Instead, he bites down harder, letting beads of sweat drip down his neck. Twitching hips and his racing heart make his head hazy, visions of you clouding his mind.

Cosmic timing makes you and Matty teeter at the edge of bliss at the same time, the same electricity pooling at both of your spines. Matty can tell you’re close even with a wall between the two of you. Your once coherent pleads quickly become rambling words and needy cries. He swears he can see you keening into his touch when he closes his eyes, speeding up his first to match the sounds of slapping skin he can hear next door, convincing himself that he’s the one fucking you.

Coiling tension pulsates inside you both, your breath hitching moments before the tension snaps, wave crashing over you and Matty. Your legs shake uncontrollably, your hips jumping as your date keeps fucking you, pushing deeper as he watches you in awe, studying the way your jaw drops and your whole body shivers.

Matty listens in shock, staring down as streams of white cum cover his thighs, painting the tattoo that sits so proudly on his hip. He keeps listening to every noise from you, wishing he could hear them without plaster between you, he wants to be the one making you cry from pleasure, watching your body shake as you come down, seeing the blissed-out smile on your face when you finally start to feel your legs again.

But eventually, the cum on his skin starts to feel cold and sticky, and the visions of you become clouded with all the times you've told him you hate him, all the times you called the building manager because he won't stop smoking weed, or even the time you called the police because he wouldn't stop blasting music. The illusion was shattered as he wipes his cum half-heartedly off his thighs and hand, rolling over to sleep, fighting to forget he ever hears a single noise from the apartment next door.

As for you hearing him… I will expand it another time teehee

(p.s any and all neighbour matty ideas are welcomed xoxo)

[cheesus-doodles]

i was thinking about a fluffy sleepover with bf kazutora…he’s so cute

happy birthday tory!! also no kazutora bday goods??

Masterlist

‎‎

With BFF Kazutora, even if he isn't yandere (in my opinion, that would be a miracle in itself), think extremely, extremely clingy. But let's say it froze in hell and this is normal non-yandere BFF Kazutora.

‎‎

12 years past Kazutora would be absolutely delighted by your suggestion of a sleepover at your place. Yes sure, he had been in your bedroom multiple times before, this boy has even napped and cuddled with you previously. It's not even his first sleepover - you're his bestfriend, no doubt Kazutora has already spent countless nights over at your place, be it whether he just doesn't want to go home or for convenience.

When he turns up with snacks, you already have his set of favorite matching PJs ready for him to change into after he showers (of course you do), and there's definitely some kind of routine the two of you always follow when it comes to sleepovers.

First off, shower and change. Then right after, it's TV time. Always TV time.

The two of you will line an area of the floor of your room with pillows and plushies to make a comfy fort, following which you will put on whatever show it is you want to watch. You get to watch one show, and then Kazutora gets to pick one, and the two of you would be happy to eat snacks and sip on hot chocolate in silence. This Toman delinquent will always swear up and down that the hot chocolate you make is unbeatable, so every sleepover now includes one (1) mandatory cup (if not he will cry and say you hate him).

After that, if there is homework to be done for the next day, you will usually work with Tory to get that sorted out. But be it whether there is or isn't, during this time is usually when you two start chatting about whatever it is that happened during the day. Neither you nor Kazutora ever keep secrets from each other, so even though you disapprove of him getting into fights, the yellow and black haired boy will still tell you about all the fights he got into that day, and in return, you will tell him about your classes and the freshest classroom gossip.

Finally, the last step before actually going to sleep always has to be pillow fight. It will always start out of nowhere, with sometimes you ambushing Kazutora with a whack to the back of his head as he is returning to your room from the bathroom, and other times Tory taking it upon himself to end homework time prematurely by smothering you with a giant plush.

And you two don't pull any punches when it comes to pillow fights. Free-for-all, the two of you hurling plushies and pillows at each other from across the room, giggling and laughing as you tried to dodge the missile aimed straight for you from the other and vice versa.

Kazutora always sleeps in your bed. This boy won't be sleeping anywhere else but right next to you in the same bed. Suggesting other alternatives will only earn you the kicked puppy look and a huge crying tantrum if the former doesn't work, the whole yard. Contrary to popular belief, this boy is actually super fussy about where he sleeps, the type of bed and pillows he likes etc, everything you, as his bestfriend, would already know.

So you always makes sure to fluff up his pillow, tuck him in and give him a kiss on his forehead before you snuggle in yourself, and the minutes left before you fall asleep would be spent reassuring this poor boy that yes you really were his bestfriend, and that no, you didn't plan on breaking this friendship ever. Because even if the two of you have been friends for years on end and been through thick and thin together, Kazutora is just simply to insecure to ever believe anyone would want to stick by him.

And this boy can grip. Clamps on to you in his sleep and absolutely will not let go whatsoever, so if he hasn't woken by the time you need to head to school, you can forget about it.

‎

12 years Timeskip Kazutora is a lot more mentally stable and confident in his relationships, but that doesn't mean that he is any less attached at the hip when it comes to you. Still loves sleepovers as much as he did as a kid, and takes every opportunity to do so whenever your schedule permits (because let's be real, you were the more responsible of the two and had a real, grown-up job). Sometimes its arranged, sometimes its impromptu when Kazutora feels the urge to, and he would just roll up and stroll in like he owns the place, if he didn't already all but move in with you.

Any sleepover still follows the same exact steps as twelve years prior, and he still has a favorite set of sleepover PJs that matches with yours. Though you were usually more than happy to accommodate your Tory, he isn't exactly the person with the best habits, and you sometimes find yourself having to take the next day off work because you had a sudden sleepover sprung on you.

A walking radiator who prefers to sleep shirtless, still loves to snuggle with you and his sleep habit of clamping on to you and never letting go has not let up, which is one of the main reasons you try to dodge weekday sleepovers. Kazutora is the ultimate enabler though, encouraging you to take the time off and spend the time with him, and usually has to be disciplined with a (loving) smack to the back of his head.

Still will cry if he doesn't get his hot chocolate or you don't tuck him in and kiss him on the forehead, so this boy never really did grow up much.

[skibasyndrome]

💜 wilmon;

Unable to control himself, Simon brings Wille's thumb to his mouth and slowly tastes the blood.

cw: vampirism (as seen here, here and here), blood

I cheated a little by adding some sentences before the sentence, I hope you don't mind 💜

Simon already knows it's a terrible idea before he even reaches for Wille's hand. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, even internally tells himself as much, when he takes hold of Wille's palm, while his eyes are never leaving the small but angry crimson slash on the pad of Wille's finger. He shouldn't have let his friend take the sharpest knife, he shouldn't have made him laugh while cutting carrots, he shouldn't even have invited him over in the first place. Because now it's too late, he thinks, while the sudden wave of thirst rises up in his throat and dries out his mouth. It's too late. "I don't think the cut is that deep, it's okay," Wille says, his words barely reaching Simon's ears, drowned out by everything inside of him screaming to have Wille and have him now, screaming for him differently than Simon is used to, so much worse now. His last shred of misguided hope, his naive wish to get out of this, is shattered when Wille - and why won't he just... - doesn't pull away his hand. Lets it rest there, in Simon's grip. Unable to control himself, Simon brings Wille's thumb to his mouth and slowly tastes the blood. Coppery, salty, just a hint sweeter than Simon has been imagining it. He runs his tongue over the cut again, then again, gets another taste, lets out a deep breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in. Wille tastes good, so fucking good. So good that the most selfish part of Simon wonders why he didn't give in earlier, why he denied himself this. So good that he regrets that he can't ever see him again after this. Simon startles when he feels Wille's hand on his waist suddenly, brazes himself for the shove, the push, the punch, whatever is coming. He's not prepared for the way Wille grabs him, though. Wille pulls Simon into him, loops one arm around his waist, and keeps the other there, right there, where Simon is still holding it, where Simon has just licked the blood off his finger. Out of all the ways this could've gone, Simon did not see that coming. Did not expect the way Wille's fingertips are digging into his back through his thin t-shirt, or the way Wille's quickened breath is fanning over his face when he raises his eyes to finally look at him. "I-," he wants to say something, explain this somehow, but Wille, eyes dark and big and looking at Simon like he's never quite seen him before, interrupts him. "Can I please kiss you?"

Thank you, thank you, thank you for the lovely prompt you sent me! I'm really sorry that it took me so long to get back to it! I hope you enjoyed it though :) 💜💜💜

Send me "Wilmon" + a sentence and I'll write you 5(+) more!

[rainforestakiie]

@inubaki i really hope you like this! i worked so hard on it for you! i'm not sure if it's good, but i tried something new with our adorable adam.

i'm not sure what to call this AU? maybe the love of hell?

the wonderful inubaki requested an AU where lucifer and lilith are trying to save the hellborn. they brought a booklet of Hellborns for everyone to look at, and adam is the only one interested.

i hope you don't mind me getting creative with this one too!

i tried something new. i hope it worked!

please enjoy!

The corridors of Heaven stretched before them like endless, glowing veins, each pulse of light casting intricate shadows against the walls. The air shimmered, thick with the weight of eternity, and yet Adam felt it heavy in his chest. His fingers fidgeted with the coarse fabric of his tunic, tugging at the loose threads of his oversized work gloves, the same ones he had worn since... well, since as long as he could remember. They felt more cumbersome than usual, each pull of the fabric a distraction from the churning storm inside him.

Beside him, Sera walked with a quiet grace, her wings folded tightly against her back, the golden feathers barely brushing the ground as she moved. Every so often, her gaze would flick to him, concern softening the usual brightness in her eyes.

“Adam,” she whispered, her voice like the soft hum of the wind through a garden of starlight. “I know you're nervous, anxious even. I can feel it. But there is no need to fear. I swear, neither Michael nor I will let anything happen to you.”

Adam's lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes avoiding hers as they focused on the ever-stretching horizon ahead. His heart raced, not from her words, but from the truth he couldn’t voice. He swallowed thickly, trying to untangle the knot in his throat.

“I know you’ll protect me,” he said, his voice strained, barely above a murmur. His hands trembled slightly, and his stomach twisted and coiled, like a serpent tightening around his spine.

“But it doesn’t stop… this.” He made a vague gesture to his chest. “I don’t understand why they want me here, why I need to be here.”

Sera sighed softly, a touch of weariness in the sound. “I don’t know either. I tried, Adam. I tried to make them understand that you have no part in the… relations between Heaven and Hell. But Hell was relentless. They demanded your presence repeatedly.”

Adam’s brow furrowed as he halted for a moment, his gaze dropping to the pristine floor beneath his feet. His troubled expression deepened, shadows darkening his usually gentle face.

“But they already have Eve.” His voice wavered, the words pulling at the fraying edges of his composure. “Surely one of us would be enough. Why me too?”

The silence between them thickened like a fog, the echo of his question lingering in the air. Sera paused, her wings ruffling slightly before she placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch warm, reassuring. Her fingers pressed gently; a promise unspoken.

“This meeting will be quick,” she murmured, her voice a balm against the storm raging within him. “I will make sure it doesn’t drag on longer than necessary.”

Adam nodded, though the motion felt sluggish, weighted. He could feel the inevitability of the situation, feel the invisible chains tightening around him, dragging him forward. There was no escape from this, no turning back. With a resigned sigh, he let go of his resistance, his heart still uneasy, but his feet moving forward once again.

Heaven’s light seemed less bright, more distant. And as the doorway to the meeting chamber loomed ahead, Adam couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever waited inside was far darker than anything he had faced before.

As Adam and Sera drew closer to the grand doors that separated light from darkness, his heart pounded with the weight of it all. The towering gates of polished crystal shimmered with a strange, ethereal glow, but to Adam, they seemed more like the bars of a cage. Beyond those doors lay the meeting place—the heart of the divide between Heaven and Hell, purity and sin, light and shadow.

His pulse quickened, each thud in his chest heavy and unrelenting, a silent question echoing in his mind: Why me?

He couldn't understand it. He doubted he ever would.

From the moment he and Eve had arrived in Heaven, life had been a maelstrom—a constant storm of confusion and chaos. Heaven, a place he had thought would be peaceful, had become a battleground of decisions and endless debates. Hardly any souls had reached Heaven anymore, and the reason was as twisted as it was tragic.

The Apple of Knowledge, the birth of Sin itself, had poisoned humanity so deeply that most souls were lost to the darkness. Hell was teeming with sinners, overwhelming its gates, and Heaven’s high angels had called for a desperate council. Both he and Eve were summoned.

Adam remembered how Eve had seethed with fury, her bitterness a powerful force. She carried resentment like a shroud, heavy and thick, her anger not just toward Lucifer and Lilith, but toward all those who had followed them into the abyss. Despite the distance that had grown between them, Adam and Eve had transformed their bond into something more like siblings—two souls forever tethered to one another. In a Heaven that felt more foreign than familiar, they only had each other to hold onto.

Eve was his best friend, and Adam was Eve’s best friend.

Adam had long since forgiven Eve. Her mistakes had once felt like a fracture between them, but now they were scars, healed but not forgotten. Eve had spent every moment since trying to make things right, as if each action was an attempt to cleanse herself of past regrets. Adam had witnessed it firsthand, and when the Archangels—Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, and Sera—had called them to God’s crystalline throne room, it was Eve who had stepped forward. Her voice had been steady yet laced with the weight of her guilt.

“I will take responsibility for this,” she had declared, her gaze unwavering. “Just me. You only need one of us, right? So, I will take responsibility, not Adam.”

Adam had tried to intervene, to remind her that this was their shared burden. They were both part of the same story, both victims of the same fall. But Eve had refused, shaking her head with a sadness that cut deeper than her words.

“This is on me, Adam. I trusted Lucifer. I trusted Lilith. If I hadn’t… our children might have made it here.” She said softly, holding his hand tightly. “It was my fault we were kicked out of Eden. You’ve spent years afterward breaking your back for me and our children. You’ve taken care of me, made sure I can eat and sleep well.”

She looked him in the eye, her amber-gaze teary. “Please, let me take care of you this time.”

From that day, Eve had dedicated herself to a grim task. She trained with the other angels, sharpening her resolve, and spent endless hours sorting through human souls—deciding who was worthy of Heaven and who would be cast into Hell. She became the sword of judgment, her once gentle hands now hardened by the weight of her duty. Adam had tried to be there for her, but Eve kept him at a distance, sharing only fragments of her pain.

The time they spent together will be happy, she had decided.

Heaven had given Adam a different role. While Eve had the likes of Archangel Michael and Sera, God had created a new guardian for him, another Seraphim named Emily. Together, they took on responsibilities far removed from the harsh dealings between Heaven and Hell. Their tasks revolved around the Winners—those rare souls who had ascended—and the Heavenborns, along with the animals that roamed the clouds. While Eve battled the darkness, Adam’s life was filled with nurturing, guiding, and trying to find peace in his new purpose.

But the guilt gnawed at him, relentless. Every time he saw Eve return from another long day, her face drawn; her wings heavy with fatigue, it twisted inside him. She would always smile when she saw him, always pretended she wasn’t tired, wasn’t angry, wasn’t breaking apart beneath the weight of it all. But Adam could see it. He could feel it. She was drowning in a sea of fury and regret, and there was little he could do to help her.

Recently, Eve had been the one attending the delicate meetings between Heaven and Hell, where the fate of the Sinners was debated. Adam knew little of what happened there.

Emily had done her best to keep him distracted, filling his days with tending to the new arrivals in Heaven or caring for the creatures that frolicked through the clouds. It was a quiet life, but a distant one, far removed from the storm that brewed beneath Heaven’s perfect facade.

Now, as the doors to the meeting chamber loomed before him, Adam felt his stomach tighten. This time, he couldn’t escape. This time, Hell had called for him by name. He didn’t know why, didn’t understand what they wanted from him.

Eve had always been the one to handle these matters.

Besides, Adam had never been close to Lilith or Lucifer. Especially after Lilith had left him for Lucifer. Adam had never been favoured by either of them. He once thought he was close to both of them, he once thought Lucifer and Lilith loved him like he loved them. But that wasn't the case when they left him all alone...

When Eve came along, they both only wanted her…they had never asked for him, until now and to be perfectly honest, Adam had been all to happy to never see either of them again.

Why should they need me? His thoughts spun, a whirlwind of confusion and fear, the answers always out of reach. I don’t know a single thing about the Sinners.

Beside him, Sera’s gaze softened as her hand brushed his shoulder, a brief, fleeting touch to pull him from the storm of his thoughts and ground him in the present moment.

“You’re not alone, Adam,” she whispered, her voice warm like sunlight breaking through mist. “But we must face this.”

Adam swallowed, his throat tight, and looked up at her, his stomach twisting like a serpent coiling in on itself.

“Where… where’s Eve?” His voice trembled, barely more than a breath. “I-I thought she… I thought she’d be waiting for me.”

“She’s here,” Sera replied gently, the hint of a smile touching her lips, though there was a flicker of concern in her eyes.

Adam let out a shaky sigh of relief. For a moment, it felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest—Eve, his constant, his anchor, was there.

But then, Sera’s tone shifted, becoming cautious.

“Eve is already inside with Michael.” Her voice lowered, almost conspiratorial. “However, she is being a little… explosive.”

Adam blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. Explosive?

Eve had always been passionate, fiery even, but that word felt… ominous. His gaze wandered back to the towering doors in front of them, and he shivered. He hadn’t noticed it before, but now, as his ears strained, he swore he heard a low, distant thump from within the room. It was faint but powerful, like the heartbeat of something vast and angry.

“Let’s just say…” Sera continued, her words soft and measured, “Eve is not very pleased that they are dragging you into this mess.”

“O-Oh…”

Adam’s hand instinctively reached for his tunic, his fingers picking at the seams nervously. The fabric seemed to grow heavier with each passing second. He wished Emily was there—her presence always had a way of calming him, of making the world seem a little less daunting. But despite her protests, both Michael and Sera had insisted that Emily remain behind.

His heart sank at the thought, and he shifted uneasily. It felt wrong, being here without her, without the one who had become his silent guardian. The room beyond those doors seemed to pulse with tension, a gathering storm of anger, judgment, and something more—something darker, and much more dangerous. And though he knew Eve was waiting inside, her protective rage directed at whatever forces had pulled him into this ordeal, Adam couldn’t shake the feeling that once they stepped through those doors, everything would change.

For better or worse, he didn’t know. But change was coming, and it was coming for him.

And with that, the grand doors began to part, revealing the shadowy divide between Heaven’s light and Hell’s darkness. Adam steeled himself for whatever awaited him on the other side, but deep down, he knew—nothing could have prepared him for the truth he was about to uncover.

Adam’s entire body trembled as the enormous, towering doors began to creak open, the sound reverberating through the vast, shadowy corridor like the growl of some ancient beast. His golden wings quivered, feathers rustling with a desperate, primal urge to flee—to turn around and escape before it was too late. It had been centuries since he had last seen either Lilith or Lucifer, and the mere thought of facing them again set his insides churning. He didn't want to see them. He didn't want to be here.

Sera stepped in front of him, shielding him as the gap between the doors widened, revealing the meeting place. Adam’s knees buckled slightly, his heart pounding so loud in his ears he could barely hear the world around him. His eyes narrowed as he squinted into the dimly lit expanse of the room. It was massive, rivaling the size of God’s throne room—the same room where the Archangels had summoned him and Eve all those years ago.

The room was a masterpiece of contrasts, split perfectly down the middle. One side radiated with an ethereal glow, its soft pillows of pure light glowing in shades of white and serene blue. The other half, however, was cloaked in darkness, its pillars of obsidian towering against the walls like sentinels, the space draped in shadows and rich, blood-red hues. Light and dark, Heaven and Hell, brought together in a strange, unsettling harmony.

In the center of the room was a long, crystalline table that seemed to shimmer in the strange half-light. The table itself was split just like the room, with one half composed of towering blue crystal, its surface adorned with halos that floated gently above the chairs. The other half was carved from red and black crystal, its seats crowned with devil horns that twisted ominously toward the ceiling.

Adam swallowed thickly; his throat dry as his skin prickled with the overwhelming sensation of multiple eyes upon him. He couldn’t bear to look up, his gaze remaining firmly fixed on the floor as he followed Sera into the room. At first, the air was thick with the sounds of angry voices—aggressive arguing, insults flying back and forth between the factions, the echoes of bitter sneers and mocking scoffs bouncing off the walls. But the moment Adam crossed the threshold, the bickering ceased. A thick, unnerving silence blanketed the room, and Adam’s wings shifted uncomfortably, struggling to stay still.

He felt exposed. Vulnerable. And all he wanted to do was hide.

Instinctively, he stepped closer to Sera, seeking some form of protection, no matter how futile it felt. Michael’s gaze swept over them, his expression unreadable as he nodded to Sera, who returned the gesture with a troubled glance, her eyes lingering on the shattered crystal in the centre of the table. Something had already gone wrong.

"A-Adam."

The voice was soft, almost gentle, but it made Adam’s entire body seize with a sharp tremor. He forced himself to glance up, only barely lifting his eyes toward the speaker. There, across the room, sat Lucifer.

The fallen Archangel was nearly unrecognizable. Gone were the divine robes of white, blue, and gold that Adam remembered so vividly from their time together in Eden. Instead, Lucifer now donned something far more twisted, more theatrical. A red-and-white striped vest clung to his form, paired with a white jacket and matching pants tucked into sleek black boots. His once glorious golden hair now shimmered beneath a bizarre top hat, a snake coiled around it like a crown, a ruby-red apple resting in the serpent’s grip, and a faintly glimmering golden crown threaded through the coils.

Adam couldn’t stop staring, even though he wanted to. Lucifer was so different, so alien compared to the being he had once known. His face was no longer the smooth, angelic visage of before; his cheeks were now stained a deep, unnatural blood-red, and his eyes—those eyes that had once been a striking, sapphire blue—were now a disturbing blend of molten gold and ruby, like the embers of a dying fire.

What unsettled Adam the most, though, was when Lucifer stood, revealing long, black claws where his hands should have been.

“Adam—”

“Shut up!” Eve’s voice cut through the air, sharp and cold as steel. The words echoed across the room like the crack of a whip. “Don’t even look at him!”

Lucifer’s expression twisted into a dark sneer, his eyes narrowing as he shot Eve a look so venomous that Adam recoiled. Was this truly the Archangel he had once admired? The being who had sung with the Heavens in glory? He felt bewildered, disoriented. And yet, despite the chaos of emotions raging inside him, Adam found himself easing just a little at the sight of Eve.

She was seated across from Lucifer, on the side of light, where Heaven’s shimmering blue throne towered next to Michael. Eve sat beside the Archangel, her face a mask of cold fury. Her arms were crossed tightly, fingers tapping aggressively against the armrests of her seat. Her red hair, now pulled back into a severe ponytail, gleamed like fire beneath the soft light, and she wore something Adam had never seen before—a uniform, battle-worn yet sharp, and utterly unlike her usual appearance.

The silver armor clung to her form, a strange fusion of elegance and brutality. A thigh-length dress of shining metal, black tights beneath, with long, silver gloves that reached her upper arms. Her boots rose high above her thighs, matching the cuirass that protected her chest, the plackart at her waist. Every piece of her armor—spauldron, vambrace, gorget—was perfectly placed, ready for war.

Adam paused, his feet faltering as his gaze fell on the helmet resting on the table beside her. It was monstrous, with twisting horns that spiraled out on either side, a grotesque contrast to the purity of Heaven’s light.

Does she… wear that?

The thought chilled him. Eve had changed so much since they’d first arrived. The woman in front of him looked nothing like the gentle soul who had once wandered the Garden of Eden at his side.

The air was thick with tension, and Adam felt utterly out of place, an intruder in this grand hall of angels and devils. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge to turn and flee, but he couldn’t shake the sense that something far greater than him was unfolding—and he was caught in the middle of it.

“Come now, Eve,” a voice interjected, its tone airy yet laced with an edge of smugness. It carried the chill of winter’s breath, sharp and penetrating. “We’re all friends here.”

“Friends?” Eve’s voice dripped with contempt as she turned her furious gaze toward the speaker. “Is that what you call the people you backstab?”

Adam blinked, feeling a strange mixture of awkwardness and curiosity as he slowly approached Eve, careful to keep his distance from the imposing figures in the room. He tilted his head slightly, trying to focus on Lilith, whose presence seemed more familiar and grounded compared to Lucifer's nightmarish transformation.

Lilith sat on the side of darkness, but she retained a striking, almost ethereal beauty. Her long golden hair cascaded down her back like a flowing waterfall of sunlight, pushed back elegantly from her face, with curls framing her delicate features. Her face, pointed and regal, was accentuated by long, thick eyelashes that Adam remembered from days long past.

A black rose crown adorned her head, its dark petals contrasting sharply with the blood-red horns that emerged from beneath it. Her figure was both delicate and imposing—a small waist paired with a substantial chest, draped in a deep purple and black dress that shimmered with an otherworldly magic. Around her neck, a strand of pure white pearls gleamed softly, catching the light as if it were a fragment of Heaven itself.

Adam found himself frowning slightly as he took in Lilith’s appearance. She was undeniably beautiful, but there was a coldness in her gaze that mirrored the icy sharpness of her voice. Despite her outward grace, there was a stark, unyielding edge to her presence that set Adam on edge.

“Isn’t it charming,” Lilith continued, her voice dripping with false warmth, “How old friends can come together under such… delightful circumstances?”

Adam’s stomach churned. The air in the room seemed to thicken with each passing second, a palpable tension that pressed against him from all sides. He glanced back at Eve, whose anger was barely contained, and then at Lucifer, whose gaze was fixed on him.

He tried to swallow the rising lump in his throat as he took another hesitant step toward Eve. The room felt like a stage, each figure poised in their roles for some grand, unspoken performance, and Adam was caught during it, struggling to understand his place.

Eve's eyes met Adam’s, her fury momentarily softening as she recognized his troubled gaze. For a moment, her expression seemed to convey a silent apology—an acknowledgment of the chaos that had ensnared him in this grim theatre of light and darkness. But the anger was still there, simmering just below the surface, ready to boil over at any moment.

Adam took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He wished desperately for Emily’s comforting presence, but all he had now were his own frazzled thoughts and the looming, unforgiving gaze of those who held the power to determine his fate. He had to face whatever this meeting demanded of him, and he could only hope that the strength he found in his past with Eve would help him navigate the treacherous waters of this new confrontation.

Lilith’s eyes sparkled with malicious amusement as she continued to needle Eve, her voice a cold, serpentine whisper.

“Eve,” she said, her tone dripping with feigned sympathy, “It’s so touching to see you trying so hard. But let’s be honest, you’re nothing more than a replacement. You could never truly fill the shoes of someone as... exceptional as I once was.”

 “Replacement?” she snapped, her voice echoing like a thunderclap. “You think you’re so special, don’t you? You’re nothing but the defective prototype. A product used to test and validate design concepts, functionality, and usability. Prototyping helps identify potential issues and make improvements before committing to full-scale production or implementation. This approach is common in fields like engineering, product design, software development, and more.”

“You are nothing but a bootleg version of a real woman. You could never compare to what I’ve become.” Eve added smugly.

Lilith’s lips curved into a cruel smile, her eyes glinting with amusement as if she were watching a child’s tantrum.

“Oh, Eve,” she said mockingly, “How quaint. Your anger is almost endearing. But really, you were never meant to replace me. You’re merely a poor imitation, struggling to keep up with a legacy you can never truly grasp.”

Eve’s face was flushed with rage, her body trembling with the effort to contain her fury. “You think you’re so high and mighty, don’t you? I’ve seen your so-called ‘legacy,’ Lilith. You’re nothing but a pretentious farce, a pale shadow of what true strength and integrity look like. Your power is nothing compared to the strength I’ve earned.”

Lilith’s smile widened, her amusement growing as Eve’s anger boiled over.

“You’re so precious when you’re angry,” she cooed, her voice dripping with condescension. “But don’t you understand? You’ll never truly be anything more than a mere stand-in. I was the original, the genuine article. You’re just a cheap imitation, trying too hard to fill a role you were never meant for.”

Eve’s rage reached a fever pitch, her fists clenching at her sides. “You know what, Lilith? You’re just a failed experiment. You were cast aside for a reason. No amount of posturing can change that.”

Adam winced as he watched the exchange, the hostility between the two women escalating with each cutting remark. He could see the toll it was taking on Eve, her anger spiralling out of control, while Lilith seemed to find the entire situation nothing more than a game.

Then, with a swift, venomous glance, Eve delivered a final, cutting comment. “You’re nasty inside and outside. You were never pure enough for Adam. Look at what happened when an Archangel gave you the time of day, you stained him. I can’t imagine what you would have done to Adam.”

“It’s a good thing your poisonous venom didn’t touch Adam. You don’t deserve his love or friendship. You never did.”

The room fell silent, the words hanging heavy in the air. Lilith’s eyes flashed with a pained, hurt expression, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability beneath her icy exterior. It was clear that Eve had struck a nerve.

Adam’s heart pounded as he saw the reaction. He wanted to intervene, to stop the confrontation before it spiralled further, but his voice came out as a barely audible whisper.

“Eve, please… stop.”

Unfortunately, his soft plea did not go unnoticed. Both Lucifer and Lilith’s eyes turned to Adam, their expressions shifting to one of twisted delight. Lucifer’s lips curled into a smirk, while Lilith’s gaze hardened with a mix of surprise and contempt. She seemed even pleased that Adam had stuck up for her.

Eve’s eyes narrowed at Adam’s intervention; her anger now directed at him. She glared at Lilith still fiercely, her grip tightening around his wrist. Without waiting for a response, she tugged him toward the large, ornate chair next to her, forcing him to sit down beside her.

Adam’s heart raced as he sat next to Eve, feeling the weight of Lilith’s and Lucifer’s gaze upon him. He could sense the shift in the room’s dynamics, the undercurrents of tension and hostility that seemed to press in from all sides.

Eve’s grip on his wrist was unyielding, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. Adam tried to catch her eye, hoping to convey a silent plea for calm, but her focus was locked on Lilith and Lucifer, her rage barely contained.

The room was charged with an electric tension, the air thick with the remnants of the argument. Adam knew that whatever came next would be pivotal, and he could only hope that the storm of emotions would pass quickly, leaving them with some semblance of peace—or at least, a path forward.

Michael cleared his throat with an almost comical sense of formality, his wings fluttering with confusion and agitation. His brows furrowed as he glanced between Eve, who was still seething, and Lilith, who appeared to be reveling in the discord. The celestial presence seemed out of place amid the chaos, like a child witnessing a tempest.

Lucifer, ever observant, caught Michael’s disoriented demeanor with evident glee.

“Oh, Michael,” he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “Still the same old doll, aren’t you? Always caught in a whirlwind of emotions you barely understand.”

Michael’s face flushed with irritation at the insinuation, but he remained silent, his wings flickering in agitation. The jibe from Lucifer had struck a nerve, and his irritation was palpable.

Sera, sensing the tension threatening to boil over into another confrontation, stepped in with a measured tone.

“Enough of this bickering,” she interjected firmly. “We’re here to address the matter at hand. We have conceded to the demands and brought Adam into this meeting.”

Lucifer and Lilith’s attention shifted sharply to Adam, their gazes piercing through him like a spotlight.

Unable to contain his frustration, Adam made a sassy comment. “I still don’t see why I’m needed here. Hell, and the Sinners have never been my responsibility.”

Lucifer and Lilith exchanged a look, their eyes communicating silently in a way that left everyone else feeling excluded. The moment of telepathic conversation was both irritating and intriguing to those who observed it.

Lucifer turned his attention back to Michael and Sera, his tone laced with a sense of bemused superiority. “Is Adam even aware of what you’ve decided to do?”

Michael frowned; his confusion evident. “Like Adam has mentioned, he doesn’t have any duties with Hell.”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed as he scoffed. “Of course, neither of you told him. You knew he would oppose it, so why not keep him in the dark?”

Sera, her anxiety becoming more pronounced, intervened again. “That’s enough, Lucifer. What exactly do you want, and why is it so important for Adam to be here?”

Eve, unable to hold back her bitterness, interjected sharply. “It’s no a secret that you both abandoned Adam in Eden, leaving him alone, breaking your promises. Now, you want to drag him into your little game?”

Lilith’s eyes flashed with anger as she glared at Eve. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Eve. It would do you well to keep your mouth shut.”

Eve’s laugh was bitter, a sharp, mocking sound that cut through the tension. “Oh, the truth hurts, doesn’t it? But don’t worry, while you both left, Adam was made a better companion than either of you ever were.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes, his disdain apparent. “More of a step down, actually.”

Eve’s growl was low and dangerous. Before she could rise from her seat to confront Lucifer, Adam’s hand shot out, grasping her wrist firmly. The gesture was both a plea for calm and an attempt to diffuse the situation.

Lucifer and Lilith’s expressions shifted to one of surprise and displeasure at Adam’s intervention. Eve, however, grinned with a mixture of satisfaction and delight, her anger momentarily forgotten in the face of this new development.

Adam drew a deep, steadying breath, feeling the weight of past betrayals and heartbreak pressing down on him as he finally turned his gaze toward Lucifer and Lilith. The pain of old wounds resurfaced, bringing with it a rush of memories that he had buried deep within.

In the beginning, there had been just the two of them: Adam and Lucifer. Lucifer had been more than an Archangel to Adam; he had been a guardian, a friend, a constant presence in his life. Their bond had been unbreakable, a companionship so profound that Adam had felt invincible in its embrace. They had shared countless moments, their bond seemingly unshakeable, until Lilith had been introduced to the Garden.

Adam remembered the day Lilith had come into their lives. It had been a confusing but exhilarating change—he now had two friends, two beings who cared for him. They had all been so close, a trio united in the innocence of their existence. Adam, though he lacked understanding of complex concepts like husband and wife or breeding, was simply overjoyed to be in their company. He felt complete, surrounded by the warmth and companionship of his two dearest friends.

But then, one fateful morning, Adam had awakened to an unbearable silence. Lucifer and Lilith were gone. The emptiness that enveloped him was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He had spent countless days and sleepless nights searching for them, his heart aching with a pain he had no words for. They had vanished without a trace, leaving him alone in the Garden, grappling with an anguish that seemed to rend his very soul.

The arrival of Sera from Heaven had marked the beginning of a tumultuous period. Heaven had learned the truth of Lucifer and Lilith's departure—how they had left Eden to be together, abandoning Adam without a word. The revelation had thrown everything into chaos. Adam had been bewildered, struggling to understand why his friends had betrayed him so profoundly.

When Lucifer and Lilith had returned to Eden, their attempts to reconcile only deepened the wound. Adam, unable to bear the sight of them, had fled time and again, overwhelmed by the pain of their betrayal. The Angels, witnessing the turmoil, had intervened, and Lucifer and Lilith were ultimately banished from the Garden. In their absence, Eve was created as Adam’s new companion.

But even then, peace had been elusive. Lucifer and Lilith, defiant and unrepentant, had sneaked back into the Garden, this time targeting Eve. They had tricked her into eating the forbidden apple, setting off a chain of events that would forever alter the course of history. The betrayal had been complete, their actions leaving a scar that Adam would carry with him forever.

Swallowing thickly, Adam’s golden gaze fixed upon the crystalline table, its multifaceted surface reflecting fragments of his troubled thoughts. His heart pounded so fiercely that it seemed to reverberate through his skull, a relentless drumbeat of anxiety and confusion. Slowly, he gathered the courage to look up at his old friends once more.

“What…what do you want?” Adam’s voice trembled, the words escaping his lips with a mixture of fear and frustration. “Why did you ask to see me?”

Lilith’s gaze softened for the first time since Adam had entered the grand hall. Her eyes, once sharp and mocking, now held a glimmer of something akin to regret. It was as if she were struggling to reconcile the figure before her with the person she once knew. She took a tentative step forward, her expression laden with a hint of vulnerability.

“Adam,” she began, her voice carrying a note of earnestness that seemed foreign coming from her. “We’ve honestly been requesting your presence from the very first meeting.”

Adam blinked, taken aback by her admission. “What? Why? I-I don’t know what you expect me to do…but I’m telling you now; I can’t help with anything.”

Lilith’s eyes softened as she stepped forward, her gaze filled with a tenderness that seemed almost out of place in the grand hall. Her voice, usually sharp and commanding, took on a gentler tone. “Adam, it’s not about what you can or cannot do. It’s about addressing what was left unresolved between us. There are things we need to settle, and it goes beyond mere duties.”

Lucifer, leaning back in his throne with a more approachable air than before, looked at Adam with a soft, almost paternal smile. “You see, Adam, it’s not just about asking for your help. It’s about closure and reconciliation, and perhaps a bit of… introspection. We’ve been carrying this weight for too long, and it’s something we want to resolve with you.”

Adam’s confusion deepened, mingling with a growing sense of anger. “Closure? Reconciliation?”

Lilith’s expression grew earnest, her eyes reflecting a mixture of remorse and hope. “We made mistakes, Adam. Terrible ones. But we’ve come to realize that there’s something that needs to be settled. It’s not just about what happened in the past, but what we might be able to do moving forward. We want to make amends.”

Eve, who had been watching with simmering rage, scoffed derisively. “Oh, so now you think a few sweet words will make up for abandoning Adam and all the chaos that followed. Don’t be naïve.”

Lilith’s gaze hardened as she shot a sharp look towards Eve, her patience wearing thin. “Eve, you’re quick to judge from the sidelines. We’re here to address what’s unresolved, not to engage in petty arguments.”

Lucifer, his tone slightly mocking but with a hint of warmth towards Adam, interjected. “Let’s not get too carried away with sentiments and accusations. The fact remains that Adam’s presence was deemed necessary. His role in this situation is far from over.”

Adam’s frustration flared. “My role? I’ve had nothing to do with Hell or its sinners. I’ve tried to move on, to build something new. I don’t see why I should be dragged back into this.”

Lucifer and Lilith exchanged a knowing glance, their silent communication fraught with meaning. It was clear to everyone that there was more to their intentions than met the eye, and their cryptic expressions left the room’s atmosphere thick with unresolved tension.

Sera, sensing the rising storm, stepped forward with a voice that cut through the murmur of discontent. “Enough of this. We need to address the matter at hand. Lucifer, Lilith—what exactly do you want from Adam? What is this about?”

Lucifer’s smirk softened, his eyes shimmering with a mix of sincerity and mischief. “What we seek is to resolve the past and perhaps find a way to move forward. It’s about understanding the full scope of what has transpired and finding a path to healing.”

Lilith, her gaze unwaveringly on Adam, added with a touch of earnestness, “We want to make amends and see if there’s any way to repair the damage that was done. It’s a complex task, but one we believe is necessary.”

Adam’s heart sank as the gravity of their request settled in. “I...I don’t know if that’s even possible.”

Eve, still seething, let out a harsh laugh. “Repairing damage? That’s rich. After everything you two did, Adam deserves more than empty words. He deserves something real.”

The room seemed to close in on Adam as he grappled with the weight of their request. The past's betrayals and the present's uncertainties pressed heavily on him. He clung to Eve’s hand, seeking solace in her presence amidst the unfolding chaos.

Lucifer’s golden eyes darkened, not liking how Adam reached for Eve. However, he sucked up and spoke as calmly and gently as possible. "Tell me, Adam, do you know what Heaven has decided to do about Hell's... overcrowding problem?"

Adam blinked, his brow furrowing. "No. I don’t."

His confusion was clear, and he looked toward Eve and Sera, as if expecting some clarification.

Lilith’s lips curved into a bitter smile. "Of course you don’t. They thought it best to keep you in the dark, too."

Her eyes flicked to Sera, who looked like she wanted to intervene, her wings rustling in nervousness.

Sera’s voice tightened as she stepped forward. "That’s not true—"

But Lilith ignored her, her focus on Adam. "Do you know why Eve is dressed like that?"

Adam’s gaze shifted to Eve, his confusion deepening. He looked at the glinting armour she wore, his eyebrows knitting together as he finally asked, "Why does it look like you’re... going to war?"

Eve flushed, her eyes darting away. She couldn’t find the words, and Lucifer, noticing her discomfort, let out a low snort.

"What’s wrong, Eve? Cat got your tongue?" His tone was mocking but still laced with amusement.

Eve shot him a furious glare, but before she could snap back, Adam held up a hand, turning back to Lucifer. "Explain it to me. What’s going on?"

Lucifer’s expression softened, his voice taking on a more tender tone as he began, “Heaven has—”

“No,” Michael interrupted sharply, stepping forward, his face hard and his wings flickering with agitation. "Lucifer has no right to explain anything to you, Adam. Not anymore."

Lucifer's eyes darkened with annoyance, but there was a touch of a smile lingering at the corners of his lips as he responded.

 "Like it or not, Michael, I am and always will be Adam’s guardian angel. That was God’s decision, not yours." The weight of his words hung in the air; a challenge Michael couldn’t easily dispute. "If he wants me to explain anything to him, I have the right to furfill that request."

Michael’s expression soured, but he said nothing more, only a frown creasing his usually stoic face. Adam, feeling the tension between them, grew more confused. He glanced back at Lucifer, waiting for an answer.

Lucifer’s gaze softened even further as he returned his attention to Adam. "Heaven has decided to exterminate the Sinners once a year. A purge, if you will."

Adam’s eyes widened in shock. "What?" His gaze darted to Eve, his voice trembling. "Is that why you're dressed like this?"

Eve looked pained; her face flushed with guilt. "Adam, Hell is growing more dangerous. Lilith was caught planning a rebellion—"

Lilith scoffed; her voice sharp as she cut in. "I was only doing what was necessary to protect my people."

Eve whirled on her, her eyes flashing with anger. "Your people? The Sinners aren’t your people, Lilith. They’re our people—mine and Adam’s. They are our children. You and Lucifer have no right to speak on how we’ve decided to deal with the rotten eggs."

Adam flinched at the term “rotten eggs,” disgust twisting in his stomach.

"How can you say that, Eve?" He shook his head, struggling to process what he was hearing. "I... I don’t see what any of you expect me to do about it."

Lucifer’s gaze never left Adam, his voice gentle but firm. "It’s not about the Sinners, Adam. That’s not why we asked you to be here."

Adam’s eyes flicked back to Lucifer; his curiosity piqued. "Then what is it about?"

Lucifer smiled warmly; the kind of smile that once made Adam feel protected, safe. He extended his hand, and a golden portal opened beside him, from which he retrieved a small booklet. As he stood up, Michael shot him a disapproving look, his wings twitching in frustration.

Lucifer rolled his eyes dramatically. "It’s just paper, Michael. Calm down."

Michael huffed but didn’t stop him, watching warily as Lucifer slid the booklet across the crystal table toward Adam. Adam glanced at the cover, his heart pounding as he reached for it.

"What is this?" Adam asked, his voice shaky as his fingers touched the edge of the booklet.

Lucifer’s eyes gleamed as he sat back down, a mixture of satisfaction and something far more tender in his expression. "The truth, Adam. Something Heaven has been keeping from you... and something you deserve to know."

The paper was colourful. It demanded his attention, sort of colour. He barely was able to look at it before Sera tried to take it away.

“You don’t have to entertain them, Adam.” She stated.

“No, but I want to see.” Adam said, taking hold of the paper before she could it from him. He didn’t see the way Sera and Michael looked one another, how Eve looked concerned and Lucifer and Lilith released soft breathes of relief.

Adam’s fingers curled around the paper, pulling it off the table. His ears became numb as soon another insulting fight broke out between Heaven and Hell. Nobody could ever stay quiet for long, Adam didn’t know who spoke first, but soon insults were bouncing between Eve and Lilith again, Lucifer and Michael, even Sera at times. But Adam kept quietly, reading over the booklet.

Adam’s heart pounded in his chest as he clutched the booklet, tuning out the escalating argument around him. The moment his fingers touched the paper, something deep inside him stirred—a mixture of dread and curiosity. He could hear Eve’s voice in the background, sharp and biting as she snapped at Lilith, and the smug retorts from Lucifer as he goaded Michael. The entire room was filled with clashing words, like weapons being thrown from one side to the other. Yet, it all felt distant, like white noise.

He had to know what was in that booklet.

Eve’s voice cut through the chaos for a brief second. “Adam, you don’t have give them the time of day. Really, you don't.”

Adam’s grip tightened around the paper, his golden eyes fixed on the words. “No, but I want to see.”

He heard her inhale sharply, as if she wanted to say more, but Adam didn’t look up. He missed the shared glance between Sera and Michael, the tension in Eve’s posture, and the way both Lucifer and Lilith seemed to relax the moment he held the booklet in his hands.

The paper felt heavier than it should have, the weight of untold secrets pressing down on him. As his eyes scanned the first few lines, the world around him began to fade even more. His ears grew numb, and the fight around him became a dull roar. He couldn’t pinpoint who had started it—Eve or Lilith, Michael or Lucifer—but it no longer mattered. All that mattered was the truth in his hands.

It was like peeling back a wound that had long since scarred over, only to find fresh pain beneath. The words on the page blurred at first, but as his focus sharpened, so did the meaning. This wasn’t just a collection of information. It was a revelation—a crack in the foundation of everything he thought he understood.

Suddenly, the noise around him broke through, Eve’s voice cutting sharp and harsh through the silence he had built in his mind.

“Don’t you dare act like you care about him now, Lilith! You had your chance, and you threw it away. You both did! He doesn't need either of you when he has me now!”

Eve’s fury was strong, and Adam glanced up just in time to see her glaring daggers at Lilith, her face flushed with anger.

Lilith’s eyes narrowed, but there was an almost amused glint in them. “Oh please, Eve. You’ve always been a replacement. A poor one at that.”

The booklet trembled slightly in Adam’s hands, but he forced himself to keep reading, even as the barbs flew around him. Lucifer’s voice dripped with condescension as he shot at Michael, “Still Heaven’s perfect little soldier, huh? Must be exhausting being so... wooden.”

Michael’s wings flickered in irritation, his jaw clenching as he tried to ignore the provocation. “I’m not engaging with you.”

Sera’s voice, tight with anxiety, tried to interject. “Can we all focus on the matter at hand? This bickering isn’t helping anything.”

Adam’s fingers traced the edges of the booklet, his curiosity slowly overtaking the growing tension in the room. As he flipped through the pages, he was greeted by a riot of colour and life—beautifully and skilfully painted creatures unlike anything he had ever seen. He had always adored nature, his duties in Heaven centred around animals and plants. He loved naming the creatures God had crafted, feeling a deep connection to each one. But what he saw here was unlike anything from Eden or Heaven.

His golden eyes burned with curiosity as they moved over the images: creatures that were a bizarre fusion of familiar and foreign. Some looked like twisted versions of animals he remembered from Eden—others were entirely alien. There were plants that shimmered with ethereal light, their forms strange and intricate. Flowers with petals like flames, animals with wings that shifted colors, beasts with eyes that glowed faintly in the dark. None of this was from the world he knew, and yet... they were breathtaking.

“What… what are these?” Adam’s voice finally broke through the argument happening around him, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

The room quieted for a moment. Eve's scowl softened as she glanced at Adam, though concern lingered in her eyes. Lilith and Lucifer exchanged a quick glance, but it was Lucifer who broke into a wide, relieved smile.

“These,” Lucifer said, his voice filled with satisfaction, “Are the Hellborns.”

Adam blinked, looking up from the booklet, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Hellborns? Like… the Heavenborns?”

Eve opened her mouth, her hand tightening slightly on the armrest. “No, Adam, it’s not—”

“Yes,” Lilith interjected, her voice firm but gentle, cutting Eve off. “They are the same.”

Adam’s gaze flicked between them, confusion deepening. “But… I thought Hell was only for Sinners.”

Lilith’s expression softened as she leaned forward slightly. “That’s what they want you to believe. Hell is a land of the forgotten, Adam. It’s where beings without purpose or hope are thrown. Yes, it is home to the Sinners… but it is also home to the Hellborns. Beings born from the very fabric of the underworld, creatures that no one remembers or cares about. Creatures that didn’t ask to be here.”

Lucifer leaned in, his voice taking on a softer, more intimate tone. “We’ve done everything we can to save them, Adam. To give them a chance to thrive. But…”

He paused, his expression darkening for the briefest moment, “They keep fading away.”

Adam’s heart stirred. There was a tug deep inside him, one he hadn’t felt in what seemed like an eternity. It was the same pull he had felt when he first woke up in Eden, when God had told him to name every plant and animal in the garden. To give them purpose and meaning. That same feeling was creeping back into his chest, a quiet whisper urging him forward.

Lilith’s words washed over him, her tone both sorrowful and urgent. “We tried everything, Adam. But Hell is a harsh place. They need more than what we can give. They need someone who understands… someone like you.”

Adam’s fingers tightened on the booklet as his gaze travelled across the painted images of these forgotten creatures. He could see the pain in Lilith’s eyes, the desperation in Lucifer’s smile.

But before Adam could speak, Michael interrupted, his patience evidently thinning. “Enough, Lilith. This has nothing to do with Heaven or Adam’s responsibilities. The Hellborns are not our concern. They were never meant to be.”

Lucifer’s eyes darkened, his usual smugness fading as he shot a sharp look across the table. “Oh, don’t be so short-sighted, Michael. You’re not the only one who can decide what’s important here.”

Michael crossed his arms, his wings twitching slightly in irritation. “Adam has no business getting involved in this.”

Lucifer’s smirk returned, but this time it was sharper, his eyes glinting with defiance. He leaned back in his seat, his gaze never leaving Michael’s. “Maybe… but Adam wants to know, doesn’t he?”

He turned his head toward Adam, his expression softening again, and this time it wasn’t an act. His smile was gentle, familiar in a way that tugged at Adam’s heart. “Isn’t that right, Adam?”

Adam hesitated, his eyes darting between Michael’s stern face and Lucifer’s warm gaze. Slowly, his head dipped in a small nod. “I… I want to know more.”

His attention shifted back to the booklet, captivated by the creatures painted there.

“Did… did you paint these?” he asked quietly, glancing up at Lucifer and Lilith.

Lilith smiled softly. “We did.”

Adam stared down at the paintings again, his mind racing.

“They’re… really good,” he admitted, his voice a little hesitant but sincere.

“I’m glad you think so.” Lucifer beamed, a proud and almost childish grin spreading across his face. His eyes sparkled, his usual arrogance fading into something softer, more genuine.

Adam's heart tightened in his chest. For the first time in what felt like forever, he found himself curious—genuinely interested in something beyond the chaos and the anger that had surrounded them for so long. He looked up at Lilith and Lucifer, both of whom were watching him with hopeful eyes, and for a moment, the weight of their past seemed to lift, if only a little.

But the silence didn’t last long.

Eve, her voice laced with unease, leaned forward. “Adam, you don’t owe them anything. They’re just trying to manipulate you—again.”

Adam frowned; the booklet still clutched in his hands. “I’m not being manipulated. I just want to understand.”

Lilith’s smile grew a little wider, but there was something almost sad in her eyes. Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed almost giddy, as if finally—finally—Adam was starting to see things from their perspective.

Adam's fingers traced the delicate lines of the painting—a bird-like creature with brilliant, iridescent feathers and eyes that seemed to follow him from the page. His touch was almost reverent, as if through the art, he could feel the life of the creature beneath his fingertips. His gaze slowly lifted, moving across the room, first to Lilith and Lucifer, then toward Eve, Michael, and finally Sera. He swallowed thickly, his thoughts swimming in the tension that hung thick in the air.

“Why show me this?” he asked quietly, his voice cutting through the silence that had briefly settled after their latest spat.

Lucifer let out a quiet sigh, as if the weight of the question bore heavily on him. He leaned forward, his expression more solemn than before. “Because we know we can’t save the Sinners anymore, Adam. Heaven has already decided. The exterminations will go ahead, no matter what we think or do.”

Adam tilted his head, curiosity burning in his golden eyes. “Then… why? Why call for me at all?”

Lilith and Lucifer exchanged a long, meaningful glance, something passing between them unspoken. Lilith finally leaned in, her voice soft, almost tender. “We want to save the Hellborns from the exterminations, Adam.”

Adam’s brows furrowed, still struggling to understand. “The Hellborns… but why? Why does that matter to you?”

Lilith’s eyes softened, and for a moment, her vulnerability shone through. “Because we wish to have a child someday.”

Adam blinked in surprise. “A child?”

Eve scoffed, her voice dripping with bitterness. “Lilith can’t have children. God never gave her the ability too.”

Lilith’s eyes blazed with anger, but she held her tongue, glaring daggers at Eve. “I’m aware of that.”

Lucifer muttered under his breath, “This is why we didn’t want Eve involved in the meeting.”

Michael, growing impatient, crossed his arms. “I’m growing tired of this game.”

Lucifer’s temper flared as he snapped, “Then leave if you want. No one's forcing you to stay."

Michael’s glare was sharp and unyielding, but Lucifer ignored him, his focus shifting back to Adam. Adam, caught in the middle, chewed his bottom lip, feeling the weight of their gazes pressing on him. His thoughts spun, trying to piece together why he was even here, what they were really asking of him.

“So…” Adam started, his voice quiet but firm, “what does this have to do with me? What do the Hellborns have to do with me?”

Lucifer’s gaze softened, and for a moment, all the arrogance and smugness seemed to vanish. “We want you to come to Hell.”

Eve’s reaction was immediate. Her chair scraped against the floor as she stood, her face a mask of outrage.

“Why would you ever think that would happen?!” she demanded.

Lilith remained calm; her voice steady but pointed as she looked Eve in the eye. “You know full well the power Lucifer and I hold. The Sinners can’t touch the extermination angels, but we can. You know that.”

Sera, her brow furrowed in concern, asked cautiously, “Are you suggesting you’d stand in the way of Heaven’s extermination?”

Lucifer shrugged, his expression unreadable. “We’re not saying we will, just that we could.”

Michael straightened, his body tense, arms crossed tightly. “So, what, are you implying that Heaven should hand Adam over to you to make sure you don’t interfere?”

Lucifer’s gaze flickered with a moment of worry as it landed back on Adam, but his voice was calm. “We’re not asking for Adam to stay with us forever. Just for a few months… maybe a year at most.”

Eve’s voice shook with restrained fury. “Why? Why would you even suggest that?”

Lucifer’s eyes were steady as he explained. “The Hellborns have no purpose. They fade away, forgotten. Adam’s power, his gift, has always been to give purpose. He names God's creations, defines them. The Hellborns are God’s creations too, whether you accept that or not.”

Michael scoffed, shaking his head. “The Hellborns are not our concern.”

Sera, ever the mediator, stepped in again. “If it’s the Hellborns you want to protect, we could arrange for the extermination angels to leave them untouched. Adam doesn’t need to go to Hell for that.”

Lilith shook her head, her frustration clear. “That’s not enough. We wish to have a child someday, and our child will be a Hellborn. Hellborns fade without purpose, and our child would too. We need Adam to give them—give our child—a future.”

Eve shook her head vehemently. “You can’t have children. You can’t carry a child, Lilith.”

Lilith’s gaze narrowed, but she didn’t rise to the bait this time. Michael and Sera, however, exchanged thoughtful glances.

After a tense silence, Michael spoke slowly, weighing his words carefully. “If we were to agree… if we allowed you to ‘borrow’ Adam for a year, even if this plan of yours fails, you’d stay out of the exterminations?”

Lucifer’s expression softened as he nodded. “We would. That’s our promise.”

Eve gasped, her disbelief clear. “Are you seriously considering sending Adam to Hell?”

Sera looked at Eve with pained eyes. She was clearly conflicted, her gaze shifting to Adam, who looked frozen in shock and disbelief, the weight of the conversation bearing down on him.

Michael’s voice was hard as he addressed Lucifer. “If we agree to this, there will be no harm to Adam. You don’t touch him. Not once.”

Lucifer looked insulted; his voice sharp. “You really think so little of us?”

Lilith’s lips tightened into a thin line. “Don’t answer that,” she muttered. “It’s obvious what they think of us.”

She turned to Adam then, her gaze soft and full of something that resembled the warmth they once shared. “We would never hurt you again, Adam. You know that.”

Adam’s mind was a whirlwind of confusion and emotion. His fingers trembled slightly as he looked at the booklet in his hands, the Hellborn creatures staring back at him, pulling at something deep inside his soul. He felt the familiar tug, the pull of purpose. But the weight of everything—the betrayals, the pain, the love, and the loss—clouded his mind. Could he really trust them again? Could he do this for them? For the Hellborns?

He wasn’t sure. But for the first time in a long while, he wasn’t entirely certain he could say no.

"Can... can I think about it? At least?" Adam’s voice, barely above a whisper, pierced through the soft murmur of the hall, instantly quieting the room.

Lilith’s lips curled into a gentle smile, a wave of relief washing over her. He hadn’t dismissed them. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”

Adam hesitated, his eyes flickering between them, his voice even softer now.

“And... could I keep this too?” He glanced at the booklet in his hands, almost shy in his request.

Lucifer’s heart swelled with joy, his face lighting up with pure delight. Adam wanted to keep what they had made!

He nodded eagerly, his voice bubbling with excitement. “Yes! Yes! Of course, you can keep it! We’d love for you to keep it!”

Blushing deeply, Adam’s fingers tightened around the delicate pages, feeling the warmth rise all the way to the tips of his ears. He nodded again, his voice barely audible. “Thank you.”

His thoughts whirled. Go to Hell for a full year? With just Lucifer and Lilith? Could he really do that? Be with the two people he loved more than anything, yet who had caused him such pain, leaving his heart shattered? It felt overwhelming... but then there was that familiar tug deep inside him. The pull of his power, his purpose. The need to face those Hellborns, to name them, to grant them the right to exist—even if their home was Hell itself.

“The meeting is adjourned,” Michael announced abruptly, rising from his seat. “We’ll return in a week with our decision.”

Lucifer, still riding the wave of joy from Adam’s request, barely noticed the stern look his brother was giving him. He grinned wide, almost giddy. “Perfect! We’ll see you in a week!”

“Adam,” Lilith’s voice was as soft and tender as a lullaby, echoing with the same sweetness she’d spoken with in Eden. “Thank you for hearing us out.”

Adam blinked in surprise, her words gently wrapping around him. Slowly, he gave a small nod, his voice barely above a breath.

“...No problem...”

~#~

As they left the meeting, Eve fell into step beside Adam, her voice soft but insistent. "Adam... I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn’t tell you about the exterminations sooner." Her eyes flickered with regret, though her tone remained firm. "I was trying to protect you, protect Heaven. It's... it's what’s best for everyone."

Adam remained silent, his steps slow and deliberate as he listened. Eve didn’t notice his quietness, too caught up in her own words. She rambled on, her words coming in waves.

“Sinners aren’t like us, Adam. They’ve fallen, they’ve failed. Their punishment is necessary. We can’t let them spoil what we’ve built here. They’re… they’re the bad ones, the rotten eggs among our children.”

Her voice softened as she reached for his hand, but her words were still sharp. “It’s mercy, Adam. True mercy. To let them live in Hell, knowing they could never be like us… it’s cruel. This is kinder.”

Adam’s mind wandered as she spoke. Could it really be mercy? Could it be fair for the damned to suffer in Hell only to be killed again, stripped of even that painful existence? His heart ached with doubt. He didn’t agree—not fully—but he couldn’t find the words to say it. Not now.

Eve squeezed his hand and led him through the familiar path to their shared home, her voice still echoing the same justifications. Their garden awaited them, blooming with all the vibrant life Adam adored. The air was fragrant with the scent of roses, bluebells, sunflowers, and daisies. Each plant was a testament to his love for beauty and growth, their colors bright and warm beneath the soft light of Heaven.

Adam’s gaze lingered on the flowers, but for the first time, his thoughts drifted to something else.

What did the flowers in Hell look like? Did they bloom like these, or were they twisted, dark reflections of the beauty he cherished here?

He turned his eyes to the Heavenborn tiger that lazed in the grass nearby, its golden and white fur shimmering in the glow of their garden. Without a word, Adam slipped away from Eve’s side and moved to the tiger, lowering himself into its soft, warm fur. The creature purred gently as Adam nestled into its embrace, finding a quiet comfort there. His fingers sank into the thick fur as his thoughts drifted once more.

What were Hell’s Hellborns like? Did they glow like this tiger, or were they something else entirely?

Eve, standing with her hands on her hips, watched him with growing frustration. Her voice sharpened as she asked, “Adam, are you seriously considering this? Entertaining Lucifer and Lilith? Going to Hell for a whole year?”

But Adam didn’t respond. His fingers traced the edge of the booklet Lucifer had given him, its weight heavy in his hands. He stared at it, the delicate pages filled with hope and promises of something different, something unknown. Something that tugged at him, even as he lay surrounded by the familiar comfort of his garden.

Eve’s voice grew softer, but it didn’t reach him. He was already lost in thought, torn between the world he knew and the one that waited below.

~#~

Meanwhile, in the depths of Hell, Lucifer and Lilith let out synchronized sighs of relief as they left the meeting. The tension that had gripped them throughout the entire exchange with Heaven finally began to ease.

"That... could have gone better," Lucifer muttered, running a hand through his tousled hair. His usual confident demeanor was tinged with frustration.

Lilith hummed softly in agreement, her arms crossed as she glanced back toward where the meeting had been held. "It would've been better if we could have spoken to Adam alone," she said, her voice carrying the weight of her disappointment.

Lucifer nodded, the corners of his mouth pulling into a tight line. "True, but you know Heaven would never allow that. Not after everything."

They both sighed again, this time in sadness, the unspoken ache shared between them. It had been so long, too long, since they’d seen Adam. And despite the tensions that lingered, it had been good—heartachingly good—to see him again.

"I missed him so much," Lilith admitted quietly, her voice almost breaking. "It was... comforting to see him, to know he’s healthy."

"Yeah... he's doing well. But..." Lucifer gave a small, weak smile but then it faltered as he met her gaze, knowing they both felt the same unspoken concern. "I don’t like how close he is to Eve."

Lilith's lips pressed into a thin line; her displeasure evident. "Neither do I. There's something about her... it feels wrong. I don’t like how she talks, how she looks at him."

Her gaze softened with a hint of sorrow. "But at least Adam still seems... himself. Still sweet, like he was in Eden."

Lucifer’s smile returned, though faintly. "We should be thankful that Eve’s bitterness hasn’t completely rubbed off on him. He hasn’t changed as much as I feared."

He looked off into the distance, a softness in his eyes. "He’s still so innocent, in a way."

Lilith nodded, her own small smile returning. The idea that Adam had held on to pieces of his old self, despite everything, filled her with a fragile sense of relief. "He really is. It’s... it’s nice to see that."

A pause stretched between them, heavy with unspoken regrets, before Lilith finally broke the silence, her voice trembling slightly. "I regret how we left things in Eden."

“I regret it too," he admitted, his tone heavy. Lucifer’s eyes darkened, the familiar weight of guilt pressing down on his shoulders. "But... I wasn’t expecting him to run from us when we came back for him. That hurt more than I can even say."

Lilith’s gaze dropped, pained. "I can never forget the look he gave me," she whispered, her hands curling into fists at her sides. "The fear in his eyes. I hate that he was so scared of me... of us."

Her voice cracked. "He ran away from me, Lucifer. And he cried. I made him cry."

Lucifer stepped closer, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I know. I hated it too."

His voice was thick with emotion, his usual confident facade breaking. "I never wanted to make him cry. Never. It broke me seeing him like that... but we didn’t have a choice. We had to make sure it was safe for him before we could take him with us."

"I know," she murmured. Lilith nodded slowly, though the pain in her eyes didn’t ease. "If we’d taken him with us back then... he could’ve gotten sick, maybe even died. I just wish I could tell him that. I wish he knew that he was always meant to be with us."

Lucifer’s grip on her shoulder tightened in reassurance. "We’ll be able to tell him someday. He’ll understand. He has to."

Lilith looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. "Do you really think Heaven will let him come to Hell for a year? Do you think they’ll let him be with us?"

"I don’t know," he admitted, his voice low. Lucifer’s expression darkened slightly. "But Michael seemed to take our threat seriously when we mentioned interfering with the extermination."

Lilith frowned at the mention of the exterminations, her distaste clear. "I hate those. The idea of killing the Sinners again and again... it feels so wrong. How can they call it mercy?"

Lucifer nodded grimly. "It’s horrible. And it was clear Adam didn’t like it either."

"That’s the one thing that gives me hope," Lilith said softly, her eyes distant. "Adam still has that empathy. That tenderness. Maybe... maybe that means we have a chance."

Lilith’s brow furrowed as she turned to Lucifer, a hint of worry lingering in her eyes. “Do you really think this plan will work?” she asked quietly, her voice laced with uncertainty.

Lucifer’s expression softened, his smile returning, though it carried the weight of years of effort.

“It has to, Lilith,” he murmured. “We’ve been working on this for so long. Too long to fail now.”

Lilith nodded, though her frustration bubbled to the surface. “You’re right. It’s been so long,” she said, her voice rising with simmering anger.

“Do you know how many centuries we’ve spent just trying to get Heaven to let us see Adam? Just to be in the same room as him? And they still treat us like we’re—like we’re nothing to him.”

Her words came out sharper than she intended, and she clenched her fists, her body tense with the weight of their shared struggle. But before the anger could take root any deeper, Lucifer gently took her hand, squeezing it in quiet reassurance.

“Lilith,” he said softly, his golden eyes steady as they met hers. “It’ll work out. Adam will be ours again.”

For a moment, Lilith’s anger faded, replaced by a soft smile. She let out a long, tired sigh, her shoulders easing as she rested against Lucifer’s.

“If Adam comes to save the Hellborn, that is,” she whispered, her tone quieter, tinged with hope.

A grin slowly spread across Lucifer’s face, his confidence returning. “Of course he will,” he said, almost playfully. “He’s soft. Tender. That’s who he is.” His smile grew warmer as he leaned closer, his voice dipping into a familiar, soothing cadence. “We have to be gentle with him. Tender. Patient. We can’t rush things with Adam—not if we want him to stay.”

Lilith chuckled softly, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “I know, I know.”

“We can’t frighten him. The last thing we want is for him to pull away again.” Her voice softened as she thought of how much had already been lost, of Adam’s fear, his tears. They couldn’t let that happen again.

Lucifer nodded; his expression firm yet gentle. “Exactly. We’ll be patient. Adam will come to Hell, and he’ll give the Hellborn a purpose. And in doing so…”

He smiled, the weight of their plan settling into place. “He’ll save our future child.”

Lilith’s eyes gleamed at the mention of it, the future they had dreamed of for so long.

“Once Adam’s pregnant with our baby,” she said softly, the word ours filling the air like a promise, “He won’t be able to leave Hell, no matter what.”

Lucifer’s gaze softened, but there was a flicker of something possessive in his smile. “One year will never be enough, Lilith. You and I both know that. Once Adam’s with us, there won’t be any going back.”

Lilith’s smile deepened, her heart lightened by the thought.

“No,” she agreed. “There won’t be.”

They loved Adam so much. It was a shame Adam misunderstood their intentions in Eden. But they weren't about to make the same mistake twice.

[v-h-lupin]

Maurauders Era Characters if they were Demigods (with explanations)

ive been listening to Epic and rereadng my harry potter writing (really trying to work on my fanfic, im just stretched kinda thin)

anyway

this is pt. 1 because I will be doing more, and golden trio era characters too

Remus Lupin:

This boy is the most Son of Athena kid i have ever seen in my entire life look at him He is so smart in so many different ways I just he's so quick witted and brave, and he was so ready to throw himself into battle. strategizing to use his unique attributes even when his superiors (who had political leanings) told him otherwise. But his intellect doesn't mean he has a lack of empathy he's also really crafty but not in the "hot gluing pieces of felt in the basement" type of crafty he's just got such a good mind

James Potter:

Ok ok so hear me out Hermes. Hermes Hermes Hermes. Hermes is the god of so many things-- Jack of all trades, really, and James is just so damn good at everything he does. He's also incredibly fast on a broom. He makes friends wherever he goes (pretty fitting if your father is the god of travellers) and is mischevious without dipping into the villain area (most of the time).

Sirius Black:

Aphrodite. Hands down. Did not have to think when I said this. Everyone at school is fully aware that he is attractive and he can charm almost anyone. he is very charismatic. He can speak French and I BELIEVE Italian... ok it just... makes sense to me... (btw regulus will be in pt. 2)

Peter Pettigrew:

Also Hermes. Let me explain-- Beyond the fact that it would justify him feeling closer to James, we can use the other side of the Hermes coin for this. Hermes is the god of pretty much anything you encounter on the road. Hermes is not evil or anything-- but he does technically protect thieves and liars. Peter and James have parallels that make me believe both of them would be sons of Hermes, but their hearts were different.

Lily Evans:

This one was hard. I was thinking Demeter- then Apollo- then Athena- Hestia isnt an option but like, it might fit if it was-- I'm gonna say Athena because while YES, she does learn healing magic, she's also just incredibly bright in general. She and Remus are both brainchildren ok She's also very witty in her comebacks and stubborn-- im referring to her behavior in general, not just when it comes to james. For example, even though Petunia hated her, she still was so determined to have a good relationship with her sister.

Mary MacDonald:

OO, oo, i want to say Aphrodite, but then I remember that sirius is aphrodite and that would be WEIRD but if sirius was anyone elses kid, mary would be an aphrodite kid, i just, like? look at her. she celebrates her femininity, she's so confident in herself, i love her

other than aphrodite, I might say... Hebe. Seems like a deep reach, but she's the goddess of youth.

Marlene McKinnon:

APOLLO. Apollo. Apollo. Marlene has always wanted to be a healer. She's also a great flyer. I don't know what else to say about it but like- Apollo? yes, yes

[krispycreamcake]

hello! I really like your writing! If you don't mind may I please request headcanons on how laito would react to someone (a bride or classmate or something) who always tried to make him laugh by telling him jokes and stuff. please and thank you!

Headcanons on how Laito would react to someone always trying to cheer him up

🃏- Now everyone knows Laito is always in the mood for fun

🃏- Well to be fair, his fun and other people's fun are two entirely different types of fun

🃏- Usually he likes to mentally mess with you, tease your mind, make your head spin because he gets a sick thrill out of it

🃏- That isn't to say he's not one to indulge another person's idea of what it's like to humour oneself

🃏- Be it a bride, a friend, a classmate, he'll lend you an ear

🃏- Don't be fooled, his patience is extremely thin and unless you're the peak of comedy, he'll get bored quickly and easily turn the conversation around into something that benefits him

🃏- Now, if you're strong willed and can ignore his words and actions, he'll respect that

🃏- If anything, it makes you more interesting, which then makes him want to listen to more of your futile attempts to make him laugh or sport a smile

🃏- Let's say it's lunch hour and you're sitting at his table. Depending on your relationship, he'll either leave you and your jokes high and dry to go make out with some girl in a broom closet, or he'll entertain you

🃏- Over time of course, his tolerance grows and he doesn't believe himself when he eventually starts enjoying your company and your positive nature

🃏- He's grown accustomed to having you around and subconsciously counts on you to improve his mood

🃏- Maybe he got a scolding from Reiji just before school and he's ticked off, tell him how he looks emo, you might get a smirk (you will)

🃏- He'll probably minimize this feeling as nothing other than boredom (he's afraid to admit he doesn't feel completely numb around you)

🃏- It's such an odd thing for someone to genuinely want to make his day better by giving him something without him having to do anything in return

🃏- See this is where it'll kinda fuck him up

🃏- It's not about the jokes or the great atmosphere you seem to carry around yourself whenever you guys are together

🃏- It's the fact that he's having trouble coping with the idea that someone wants him to feel good without the use of sex

🃏- So maybe you're trying to use him, get closer to him and when he's his most vulnerable, you'll strike at him when he's fully exposed

🃏- He cannot have that be a possibility, he'll lose his shit

🃏- A part of him is glad that despite all his bullshit, you're there for him in your own way

🃏- Another part of him is telling him to run far far away

🃏- By attempting to getting close with Laito, even if it's something as simple as jokes and smiles, he'll consider it a major red flag and might not know what to do with himself

🃏- After all, what if he's wrong and he just pushed away the only person that cared about him?

🃏- Humans, women, people, feelings, society. It's all just too confusing for him

🃏- "Ne~ Bitch-chan, you're so quiet. Ah- I get it, do I need to tell you a joke today? Or should we improve your mood some other way hm?"

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

Chasing Away the Cold

The ship swayed gently as it rested, at anchor. Doe lay on her bed in the bright cabin that was hers alone, gazing at the trinkets on the shelf: several pretty shells, a cut ruby and gold necklace that had been a gift, a music box. It was eerily silent; the crew had disembarked, but she was tired of land, wanted the gentle hush of the sea. It made her heart full to know she was trusted to care for the Sanguine Shadow, a little flare of light in her chest that kept her warm on this cold night. Through the porthole, she spied a drift of white lifted on the chill air.

A gentle knock pulled her from her reverie. 'Lass?'

'Come in,' she said, shifting onto her side as the door opened to reveal Gale, snow melting in his hair. 'Hello, you. I thought you were having a well earned drink and a dance.'

'Ah,' he said, smiling sheepishly at her as he shrugged out of his coat. 'A siren pulled me back. Have you seen her?'

'Hmm,' said Doe, tapping her bottom lip thoughtfully. 'She was in the captain's quarters last, I believe- hey!' She squealed as Gale pulled her from her bed to kiss her. He held her by the waist, close and gentle. It was sweet and smouldering, his kiss, like embers and yielding ripe fruit on the tongue. She melted into his embrace and felt him grin against her, dipping his head to kiss her throat.

'Not tonight,' he rasped softly. 'If you don't mind.'

'I don't,' she agreed. 'It's a cold night, after all.'

As if to emphasise her point, the wind picked up to a howl outside, the whirl of snow thickening and beginning to settle. She shivered in her thin shift. Gale smiled sympathetically, grasping the thin material in his warm hands and lifting it over her head to reveal her body, gooseprickled with cold.

'Poor thing,' he breathed, tipping forward to claim her mouth again, his hot tongue slipping between her lips, his breath in her mouth, a hand moving to gently cup the back of her head, kneading in soothing circles. They fell back on the bed and he covered her body, trailing kisses over jaw and neck and chest; he was focused, lips and tongue drawing sighs from her, leaving marks of possession on her skin for the captain to find- and try to best- later.

'Gale-' she said breathily, her hands tugging at his hair gently as he suckled a nipple, drawing it to a hard peak. When he looked up to meet her eyes, his gaze was hungry, the fire in those dark depths stoked to a blaze, but still adoring.

'A little warmer, lass?' He smiled at her blush; she was thawing under his skilled touch. Smoothing a hand along her skin to rest at her throat, the heavy coolness of his rings strangely soothing to her, he turned his attention to her other breast, groaning into her skin as her breath caught. He knew the map of her body well enough, but allowed her hands to guide his head down the soft rise of her belly. His kisses there tickled; she giggled and he only peppered her with more, laughing up at her with sparkling mischief in his gaze.

'Beautiful songbird,' he chuckled, nuzzling at her skin. 'You have such an infectious, wicked little laugh.'

'It's the wicked company,' she replied, grinning. 'Something about a scoundrel pirate...'

He raised a brow, smirking. 'What have you heard?'

'Oh, lots of things,' she said, writhing as he licked at her inner thigh. In response, he tsked and gripped her thighs with both hands, keeping her still. 'For one thing- he's a bit of a control freak.'

His eyes glittered at that. He pulled her down the bed, closer to his mouth, laughing darkly when she yelped. 'Hmmm. What else?'

'He's very attentive.'

'Mmhm.' He smirked into her skin, pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses higher and higher, going slowly, teasing and thorough.

'Anything else, lass?' he whispered, breath ghosting over her clit.

'He's very good,' she croaked, mouth suddenly dry.

Gale closed his eyes and moaned softly at the praise, finally lowering his head to put soft lips and skilled tongue to work. He remained slow, relishing the waves of heat rolling off her, the soft cries from her mouth, her hands gathering his hair in her fists in an effort to ground herself. He lifted her, hooked his arms beneath her thighs to ensure no escape, stayed attuned to the trembling of her body and the tension he was building. When her breathing grew fast and shallow, he pulled back for the briefest moment.

'Doe,' he growled. 'Let go.'

The command sent her falling into pleasure; tears rolled down her cheeks and she screamed his name as he worked her into a second, finally pulling away with her arousal over mouth and bearded chin. He licked his lips, catlike and smug.

'You're wearing too many clothes,' she said as he rose to kiss her. He pressed her into the mattress, hands cupping either side of her neck.

'Hmm. And what do you plan to do about that, little siren?'

It was his turn to yelp in surprise as she flipped them, straddling him as her hands went to his crisp blue linen shirt. Her legs still trembled; Gale's hands went to her hips to steady her as she unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it from his shoulders. She pressed small soft kisses into his chest and shoulders, licked up his neck with a devouring tongue, tugged at his earlobe with her teeth and drew a feral snarl from him.

'You're so good,' she said between kisses, nosing at his jaw. 'Such a sweet boy.' Her hand stroked downward to unlace his trousers and she shifted so he could shimmy out of them, dropping to her knees beside the bed.

'Careful lass,' he warned. 'Keep talking like that and I won't get to be inside you before- ah-'

She grinned wickedly, big brown eyes sparkling. 'I don't plan on it, love.' With that, she divested him of the last of his clothes, took his cock in her hand and drew it into her mouth; the sound of his stuttering breath, the whimpers he could not hold back, were music to her.

She was as slow and attentive as he had been; the heat of her mouth and softness of her tongue rendering him nothing but a moaning mess above her. She would not let him have release however, not yet; she released him, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks and bright eyes as she rose to straddle him again, guiding him within her. His eyes fluttered closed, his teeth grit on a groan as she sank onto him, his hands bruising on her hips to set his own punishing pace. The sweet gentleness of before gave way to hard, desperate thrusts; she came again above him, collapsing into his grip with a hoarse cry, and it only drove him to push her more.

'Fuck, Gale that feels so good-'

'You feel incredible,' he moaned in response. 'Gods- I love you- I love you so much-'

'I love you too,' she gasped. 'I need you- I need you to fill me right now-'

And then he came, heat and cries and ragged breathing, his arms winding around her to hold her close as they rode out their highs, the snowstorm raging outside, unable to touch the fire that blazed between the siren and her scoundrel.

Tags:

@bluerosetarot @dansnotavampire @further-than-forever

@forget-me-maybe @poetryvampire @sasha199 @wandawillow

@boufsy @owlseeyoulaterpal @lanafofana @amorgansgal

@aryancunin @miradelletarot @marlowethebard

@crimson-and-lavender @reeseykins @medra-gonbites

@roguishcat @weaverofnetheril @galedekarioswifey @hyperfixationstation128 @lastlight-inn

@astarryvamp @feedthepheasants @dabigstinky @dreamingofthewild @ladyofcrowsandcoffee

[spikesbunny]

♥︎ WAP (WORSHIP AND PRAISE) ♥︎

+ warnings: sub reader, praise kink, worship kink (arle receiving), oral (arle receiving), mommy kink, tit sucking

+ ft: arlecchino x fem reader

+ wc: 0.7k

+ note: this is purely self indulgent and i know at least half of you agree with me on this.

reposting from @/roronoaism, all content is mine!!

nsfw under cut, minors + men dni!!!

arlecchino looks down at you from her seat, your pretty figure seated between her legs.

she wouldn't let you eat her out just yet, no, she preferred you show her how much you wanted her.

and so you did. your lips started on her foot, slowly pressing delicate kisses up her legs and calves, murmuring how pretty she was and how badly you wanted her, how much she made you crave her.

and all she did was smile down, and coo praise at you, calling you her "good girl" and "mommy's little princess". the words sent liquid fire pooling in your stomach, an urge for her to take you in the most nasty ways filling your mind as your kisses turn from innocent to needy, your tongue licking stripes up her lean legs, traveling up to her thighs.

your actions were clearly affecting her, but not so much as they affected you. you could barely control yourself, the urge to be under her, to be mommy compliant toy seeping into your brain and corrupting any other thoughts left.

"look at your, darlin, so good f' me" she purred as your kisses and licks roamed up her thighs, your much smaller hands massaging her hips. you looked up, practically begging her, begging for a taste. "please?" was all you could whimper out, without sounding too pathetic.

arle's hand moves to your cheek, cupping it as her red eyes glare down at you, pooling on more heat in your core. "not yet, doll, you've barely made it halfway up my body, mm? don'tcha worry that sweet head of yours, you'll get a lick soon."

you nod eagerly, continuing to plant kisses up her toned abdomen, tracing your name into it with your tongue. arle smirks down, cooing "good girl" and praise as you do so, causing you to quickly continue, pressing sloppier kisses and lick long stripes up her torso, making your way to her chest.

her thin lips pull into a smile, throwing off her bra for you as you eagerly latch onto a nipple, suckling away as your hand gropes the other.

arle hisses softly, a hand pressing your face closer to her chest. "so good f' me, yea? mommy's so proud of you."

you can't help but groan against her, looking up as you play with her one breast, your mouth on the other. you looked pathetic, drool clinging to your lips. it was a sight for arle's eyes, her hand brushing through your hair.

"come on, darlin, i know you wanna stay here for a bit, but didn't ya want a treat?"

it was all she had to say for you to latch off, desperation getting the better of you. you hurriedly kiss up her collar bone and shoulders, trailing down her arms. you whisper how beautiful she was under your breath, loud enough for your lover to hear, as you reach her hands, kissing each knuckle tenderly.

the action was sweet, but your intentions were far from it. you finally retreated, moving back up to kiss and suck at her neck, leaving little marks behind, the way she liked it. she wanted everyone to know you were hers, and she was yours, and was never afraid to expose the little marks in public.

it was hot, if not downright endearing.

at last, you make your way up to her face, kissing her cheek and jawline, pressing your forehead against hers as she coos how good you were for her, how sweet your words were and how much they went to her.

her hand cups your cheek again. "now, darlin, mommy thinks its time you get your treat, don't you?"

you nod, 'yes' and 'please' being all that left your mouth, sprinkled with 'thank you's as you nestle open her legs, resting your head on her thigh as you admire her, pressing your last few kisses onto her.

it didn't take long for you to finally bury your face between her legs, lapping at her like some puppy. your tongue alternated from pressing into her and licking shapes onto her clit, movements sporadic and desperate. you needed her, needed to taste her. you threw her legs over your shoulders, trying to get closer.

arle's hand tangled into your hair, 'so goods' and 'you're being so good for mommy', your licks getting more desperate and relentless as her lips dripped praise at you.

arle's head was thrown back, hand tightening in your hair as she coats your tongue and lips, you gladly lapping up every last drop of her.

"oh baby doll, do you want more?"

you nodded, eager to please your mommy. anything for her.

©2024 spikesbunny - please do not repost or translate my works on other media sites ♡

[papersnakepress]

I had a message the other day asking (among other things) what kind of tools and equipment I use in making books, and as it's something I like to go into detail on, I realized I couldn't fit everything I had to say in a message so it's getting its own post. With photos!

Disclaimer that I'm not a professional bookbinder, I'm entirely self-taught and probably have habits and practices that would drive a pro nuts. I'm no authority, but these are the things that have worked for me, and maybe you can adapt them to work for you too.

This post will not cover: storage options, materials like board and glue, or equipment specific to one narrower aspect of the hobby like embossing or gilding. It is also not a tutorial on how to make a book, though I am covering things in more-or-less the order I use them in during the book-making process.

This post will cover: What I've found useful, what I've regretted buying, and some things you can co-opt from other, more common hobbies. A lot of it you may already have in your house. Some of it is for beginners, some is nicer equipment you might want as you get further into making books. They are not separated, it's just a list and some description.

Keep reading below the cut; this is gonna be a very long one and there are a lot of photos of everything.

If you want to make books you will need access to a printer. I'm not going to go into detail on this part and I didn't take a photo of my HP (not the best brand, but that's a long discussion in and of itself). Once you've got your pages printed and it's time to fold it into signatures, it helps to have a folding tool like these:

Folding tools can be anything as long as they're smooth and flat. The one on the left here is an actual bone folder from an art supply shop, but the center one is a plastic leatherworking tool that I got at Hobby Lobby, and the one on the right is an agate burnisher that I got from Amazon. None of these cost more than $10, and you can also use the edge of a pen (as long as it has no rubber grip or cap/clip) or the back of a spoon. Or your fingers, but the tools make it faster and the folds are more precise. I once worked a job where I had to fold maps, and all my coworkers were wondering how I did them so much faster and why mine were flatter than everyone else's, and it was because I'd grabbed a sharpie and started using the back end like a bone folder.

Once it's folded, you'll need to poke holes for sewing. I use one of these:

Left is, again, an actual bookbinding awl from an art supply store, while the center one is a paper quilling tool and the right one is a beadwork awl, both of which came from a big chain craft store. The bead one is my favorite; it's a good size and very stable. The quilling thing has too long and thin of a blade and it's wobbly, and I don't like the tapering on the bookbinding awl. It tends to make the holes in the middle page too big, and the outer ones too small. Again, these were cheap, about $10 each, but you can also use a sewing needle stuck in a cork, or a thumbtack or pushpin. If it's pointy and rigid, it'll work.

This isn't a requirement by any means, but I've found I like having a punching cradle for the hole-poking step. I got this 3d printed one from a fellow bookbinder, who was designing their own and made this one as a prototype. There are a lot of tutorials on how to make a punching cradle, or you can buy them online from several different vendors. They don's all look like this, and you can make them from wood or cardboard (though those don't usually have guide holes). If you're just starting out or this doesn't appeal, you can just use a paper template like the one on the far right. The cradle helps get the holes lined up and evenly spaced, and I've never liked this step so anything that makes it faster and less fussy is a win. If you use this kind, check that your hole-poking tool fits in the guide holes--the binding awl pictured above doesn't, but the other two do.

We've made holes, so let's stitch them up. These are just regular sewing needles and beeswax, to make your thread less prone to tangling. You can get both of them in any store that has a sewing department. There are dedicated bookbinding needles, like curved needles, and some binders like them, but I've never gotten the hang of the curved ones and they aren't necessary, especially when you're just starting out. If it fits through the holes you made, it will work.

Once it's sewn, you probably want to squish your new text block so it's flat. I've got a laying press that I bought a couple of years ago when I was first getting started. It was marketed as a book and flower press, and it's honestly not the best. I would probably not have bought it if I had known that it wasn't essential to the process, and I mainly use it now when I'm squishing a text block and still want to use my work space, because once it's tight I can move it somewhere else. You can really use almost anything for squishing as long as it's heavy and flat and rigid on one side, like the stack of books in the right-hand photo. Textbooks, encyclopedias, art and photo books, and comic book omnibuses are all great. I've seen people use all kinds of things, like paper-wrapped bricks and doorstops, and there are tutorials out there to make your own press out of cutting boards if you do want one.

If you like your books to have smooth, flat page edges you're going to have to trim them. This is a book plow from Affordable Binding Equipment, and it was the first piece of actual expensive equipment that I bought. Not all plows look like this; I think the design is unique to ABE, but I've never used the traditional kind. In the interest of full disclosure, you can also trim edges with a sharpened chisel, which is much cheaper and can be bought at any hardware store, and some binders love this method. I do not love this method and have had zero regrets about caving and getting the plow. Very easy to use but does require some grip strength. Not pictured: the setup for sharpening the blade, which isn't hard but requires a bit of space and a small sheet of plate glass that you have to source yourself. Even with that, I still prefer it to the chisel. That said, this is not an essential step and you can leave your books with a "sawtooth" or deckled edge. Most of my early books have them, and some people just like them better than the flat ones and never learn to trim them. As another side note, some tutorials will say that you can trim your edges flat with a knife. You can't. Maybe on a pamphlet you can, but if it's more than 10 or 20 pages you just can't. It will look terrible.

If you're going to use a plow, you've got to have the right kind of press. The one I talked about further up the thread is the wrong kind (full disclosure: I did use it with that press turned on its side, before I bought this one. But it's harder, more time-consuming, less comfortable, and less safe. Don't be like me). So here's a photo of my finishing press (also from Affordable Binding Equipment). I bought it so I could make backed books, but I use it for trimming too. The top part here has a narrow tapered section for backing, but if you flip it over it's totally flat, which is what you need for trimming. Not pictured: the stand that it came with for backing, or the c-clamps that I use to attach it to the desk for trimming. Again, though--this isn't a requirement for bookbinding. This is a later stage that's entirely optional. On the subject of backing, though:

You don't need special equipment to round the spines of your books, but you do for backing. Left image is the set of backing boards I got from, once again, Affordable Binding Equipment, and on the right is a backing hammer from Hollander's. Neither of these are essential. Even if you get the boards (which have to be used in a press with a tapered edge, like the one directly above) you can actually use a regular hammer as long as the front part has no scratches or gouges. This one is a backing hammer, the primary difference being that it has a wider, convex head than a regular household hammer, to make the kind of glancing blows needed for backing a little easier. Honestly, I'm still learning how to use these and I'm not very good with them yet. Comes of being self-taught, probably. I don't think youtube is the best vehicle for learning this part, but it's what I have and I'm making do. Not every book is going to benefit from backing, either; it's primarily for helping mitigate spine swell.

Okay, time for my favorite repurposed equipment hack.

It's bookends. Regular bookends that I've had for ages and that probably came from Ross or some other place that doesn't even sell craft supplies.

Want to keep the text block upright while you glue it? Bookends. Want to sew some custom end bands but your text block keeps falling over? Bookends. They won't provide pressure for squishing, but if you just need to hold something upright while you work on it, bookends are the answer. They hold up books, it's right there in the name. Having said that, you want some with a little weight to them, like these agate slices, so they won't slide around. And you want something with a smooth finished edge like these, so they won't scratch up your text block or leave dents. I have other sets but these are the only ones I use for this purpose, and they're better for it than anything else I've got.

Moving on from making the text block, let's look at what I use to make covers.

It's appeared in the background of most of the other photos, but here's a photo of just the desk surface covered in cutting mats. I really recommend a mat to protect the surface of your furniture and keep your knives from going immediately dull. I've got a big one that covers almost the full surface, and a small one for when I want to be more mobile. I started with just the small one and it was good until I started working with larger sheets of paper. The big one was bought largely for convenience but I have no regrets about it. They're self-healing, non-slip, and you can get them in the sewing section of any big craft store.

I'll be honest, I am not big on knives. I've got a regular box cutter for trimming board, and a razor knife for paper and cloth, and that's it. There are a lot of kinds and really all you need is one sharp blade for board. Paper and cloth can be cut with scissors if you want, though I find I get more consistently straight lines with the knives. Also pictured: Metal rulers and a T-square. You want a metal ruler for this. Plastic will flex and wood won't lay flat. Ideally you want one without a cork backing (my 18" one has this problem) and with the tick marks etched in rather than printed (my 12" one has this problem). For larger sheets of paper and cloth, the 18" one is great, but you can get by with the smaller one. The T-square is for making right angles; mine is plastic and only 12", and I really wish I had a longer one that was metal. These are drafting tools and you'll find them in the section of the craft store that has easels and sketch pads and they're usually pretty cheap.

This is an adjustable compass. You can probably get these at craft stores but I got mine on Amazon. It's for measuring hinge gaps and the width of spines, both essential for making sure your cover fits your text block and your hinges open the way they should. Both of those are incredibly frustrating situations, and this thing makes it so much easier to avoid them.

Things to spread glue with! Any old paintbrush will do, though I like to have a few different sizes and textures on hand to choose from. I like the big one for cover boards and casing in, the mid-size ones for doing turn-ins, and the little fellow for details and touch-ups. I don't care for foam brushes because I find them hard to clean when glue is involved, but if you like you can use those. The metal thing on the left is a micro-spatula, and I did have to special order it from an art supply place but it was cheap and it's very helpful to have on hand for when the brushes are too thick, for doing turn-ins on rounded spines, and for separating pages if you decide to learn edge foiling. Not essential, but recommended.

One thing I neglected to take a photo of is my crepe eraser. Despite the best intentions, no matter how careful you are, you will at some point get glue where you don't want it, where it will be visible on the finished book. This is where the crepe eraser comes in; you can use it to remove dried glue from cloth or (to a lesser extent) paper. Very annoyingly, none of the craft or art supply places I went to had even heard of these and I had to get mine from Amazon. It was cheap (under $10) and I strongly recommend getting one.

Once your cover is made, you have some options. You can leave it blank, hand-letter or draw an image, stamp it with ink or embossing powder, use a stencil, or do what I usually do these days and make a cover graphic from HTV. I've got a cricut for this (though they're not the only kind of cutting machine; it pays to research other brands) and a mini heat press (I want a bigger one, but I got this one cheap because the box is messed up). A lot of libraries have cricuts you can use, and you can use a regular iron to apply the HTV. Getting it to stick is a bit tricky, but that's true no matter which tools you use. Not pictured: a cutting mat, different than the kind shown above, necessary with most materials you can cut (mine came with one, they're about $20 at most craft stores, and they're lightly sticky to keep your materials in place while it's being cut). I don't know if other brands require them, but cricut does unless you're using their Smart Materials (I have never used these). If your library has a cutting machine, they will also have the appropriate cutting mats. Also not pictured: weeding tools. Weeding is when you remove the bits of HTV that you don't want in the final image, usually the spaces between letters and such. The negative space, if you want to get artsy. The special tools cricut sells aren't necessary, you can use an awl or needle and the dull edge of your knife blade, but I have a set of theirs and I like mine.

I didn't take a photo of it, but sometimes I use embossing inks and powder to make cover designs and text. You only need a heat gun for embossing powder, it takes up way less space than the cricut does, and it's cheaper. I got mine free from a family member so I don't know what it cost initially, but cutting machines are a really big expense; the cricut is my third most expensive piece of equipment, after the finishing press and the plow.

Good god I think that's everything. It sounds intimidating, I know. And it sounds like it takes up tons of space in your home, and to be honest it can, but it doesn't have to. The first dozen or so books I made, I made completely to my satisfaction with tools and materials that fit in one 12x16" moving box. If you love the hobby and can make the space, the bulkier items might be worth it down the line, but especially when you're first getting started it's smart to keep things low-cost and compact. Most of the basics are simple and your fellow bookbinders are delighted to share their shortcuts and substitutions if you ask.

The end! I hope it was helpful, @cardassianexpats! I did warn you it would be wordy, lol.

[icewindandboringhorror]

I made a few new wax seal stamps out of clay (like the ones I did for my worldbuilding stuff forever ago), this time just of random symbols that I thought might look good done in the style of painting over the raised part of the wax or etc. :0c Some of them aren't carved deep enough to really show up that well, but overall they worked okay for being clay lol