#PLS PLS IM CLAWING AT MY CAGE

[thefandom-casserole]

HI HELLO QSMP FANS DO YOU HAVE ANY FIC RECS IM ON MY KNEES BEGGING

I’m Misclickduo, Hideduo, and Tazercraft trash so pls pls pls pls send me your fic recs (Self promotion is WELCOME)

[chaotic-on-main]

Soso I was down bad for Leon when RE4 remaster happened BUT THEN

This little cutie blessed my screen 🙏🏻😭

Omg Carloooosss!! I haven't actually played through 3R yet because the horror focused ones scare the shit out of me too much to enjoy them. I haven't even finished 2 even tho I really wanna enjoy bby Leon!! But 4R and Village are hands down my favorites out of the series because of how action focused it is. 6 gets an honorable mention because of Matt Mercer and because of how funny it can be to play with another person 😂

[idv-sunsxin3]

can i request a scenario where a handful of the suitcase gang accidentally consumed sotheby's potion (idk how, they just did lmao) and so turning into their udimos for a day.

w/ diggers, pavia, and horropedia pls. WHEEZE just them tryna grab your attention and you trying to decipher what they want or need 🤣

Pavia, Horropedia, Diggers // Turning into their Udimo

Note// 100% fluff. And not pun intended/ih

____

"Y/N!!!" A distressed, familiar voice of a lady yells as you were minding your own business on whatever you were doing(hot mc stuff ig/lh)

"Ms. Sotheby??? What's the matter?" You were nearly startled by her scream that followed after. Asking with a concerned look as you turned to face her - only to see her holding something that is trying to get out of her grip -

"Ms. Y/N!! Please help!!!" Sotheby cries as she raises this creature towards your face as you automatically flinch back in fear of colliding faces with the small one.

"Wait a minute, is that udimo my partner uses on the suitcase---" You were about to point out something once analyzing until you were cut off.

"I know, I know!!! I miscalculated;;; I was working on a potion and and- I accidentally dropped it on the suicase-- and now he is turned into this!!! It'll worn off in one day, i promise- E-EEP!!"

The young lady whines before squeaking when the creature succeeds in escaping from her grip and jumps on you. Making you quickly try to catch it.

"Wow, there!" You say, caught off-guard until you got licked on the tip of your mouth by the udimo, "H-Hey!! That tickles...-!" You say as you try to muffle your giggles while trying to get the udimo to stop licking or poking your face.

Quietly watching you get along with the udimo, it suddenly gave a lightbulb to the little lady with the big hat.

"How about you take care of him as he seems to prefer your company than mine?" Sotheby offers, "I got an earful from Ms. Sonetto on Ms. Timekeeper's behalf, so I have to clean up the suitcase anyway -" She twiddles her thumbs with a nervous cheeky smile.

"Oh, sure." You sweat as you feel unease yet sparkled by the idea, not sure how to take care of someone who is in their udimo form. But it is just one day, right? Plus, your pretty boy looks so cute in this form that you can't help but nuzzle your face on him--!!!

.

.

.

He licks you again...

Huh. We have to work on that;;;

____

//Pavia//

Pavia is not pleased... not even a single bit when he becomes aware of his condition.

Barks in 'M*RDE!!!'

He is already making some plans on to talk to Sotheby after that--(uh oh).

But on the brighter side--- he finally can talk to his children in their language. Now he has to run with them and other kinds of wolf pack stuff like he wished to do before when he was like... a man/lh

He was growling and barking like some edgy pup the entire time he was woth Sotheby. Who was so terrified the entire time she had to put him into a cage(hahaha) with the help of some people before coming to you.

The moment he found you, he got even more insane by barking louder. As if telling 'Y/N!!! Y/N!!! HERE!! GET ME OUT OF THIS TINY JAIL!!' until he realized it just kept scaring you away, becoming harder to ask for help.

So he ended up trying to apologize by making whimpering noises as his ears went droopy while now dropping on the floor as if trying to chill with his small angry tears - huh??? Is that really Pavia???

You eventually help im release him before Sotheby can protest - that he's now nudging his nose on to your knee as if silently asking for attention. Whimpering more with his eyes now sparkling at you.

"Aww... easy there."

He rubs his face on your leg now as you rub his ears. His tail washing and calming down...

Well, until he starts barking and trying to chase Sotheby to bite her if only she didn't immediately dash away - aiyayai....

Once you feel less intimidated by him, now he tries to tell you he wants gelato just by dragging you by the shirt and pawing a picture of it with his claws.

REALLY, BOY...? THAT'S THE FIRST THING YOU WANNA DO??

I guess he really wants to chill down with something cool, huh--

But then you quickly remember that the dessert won't be wolf friendly--- so you gently nag him that you can'tgive it to him---

.

.

.

Pavia licks your hand before licking you.

"Hey- You should stop doing that or else I'm going to be drenched with your saliva;" You whine as you try to clean your cheek. He doesn't listen and starts licking and softly biting on your arm, too, as if teasing, "Stoooopp--!"

It will be a long day...---

The next day, when he finally comes back to normal, that's when things are really getting crazy again.

You were sleeping with him, so the moment you were starting to slowly wake up from your slumber, you swear you feel strong arms around your body as if clinging on you---

You quickly wake up to notice the familiar tattoos on the knuckles of the hands--- identifying them as your boyfriend's.

But the thing is, you didn't expect to find him naked on the bed beside you.

"AH-" You were about to fall off the bed the moment you wake up and see him - LIKE WHO WOULDN'T JFHDNRNR???

It didn't take a second to catch you before pulling you close to his bare chest. Cuddling against you.

"...Buongiorno." He says with a smug look. Before licking your nose.

"Hey!!!"

"Heh."

___

//Horropedia//

Tilts head in doggo.

He really didn't have this on this year's bingo list. Okay/lh

The sad part is that he can not even be capable of yapping about stuff to you!!! How cruel;;; (it still doesn't spare the fact he woofs a lot as if he's talking)

But well, he was actually calm and rational enough to just follow Sotheby so she can help him find you--- the moment where he spots you is when he gets off of her grips and paws on your shirt. Wagging his tail so quickly.

Starts yapping and barking nonstop at you. Your poor self is having calculations on your mind about wth is he saying--- 'Y/N, omg, can you believe this??? I'm a dog, a dog!!! This is bad, so bad!!!' Bark bark bark bark ba-

Of course, he is aware that the potion will be worn off eventually. He just wanted to scare you by thinking he is panicking= meaning it's actually bad. Since it's rare for him to panic like that.

But spoilers= it's not really bad, lol.

It gets him desperate to want you to know what he wants, not just your attention, that he keeps pawing you gently to your forehead as if bonking you

'Noooo wrong, that's not what I meant..!' Puppy whimpering as he says that internally;;;

So far other than the noises and how talkative he usually is, it really honestly didn't make much of a difference when he is yapping at you in dog(like he gives dog energy when he is goofing or looking happy--)

But yeah, he always paws your leg whenever asking you to reach something for him many times--- like a horror novel from the top shelf, magazines, whatever that can keep him entertain without reminding himself of the predicament until it's over---

You ended up giving him a lot of books on his bed and dog friendly snacks so he can just sit there and flip the pages by himself with his nose---- smart doggo...

Now the way he is getting pampered by being helped in reaching stuff is pretty nice. Even he has a day off from work to binge on his hobby with you now!!! What a paradise.

Once he turns back to normal- he'll be shocked.

Like the moment he starts to wake up from hus sleep, he has a blurred vision of his hands caressing your neck as your back was facing him - wait, HANDS???

He takes a look at his hands as if it is a dream. He pinches himself - ouch, not a dream for sure... Then, he notices something..

Why does he feel chilly.

He slowly looked under the sheets -

He is naked, yep.

He was about to say "yikes-" but remembers you're still sleeping. Keeping that in mind, he tries to sneak away from the bed to go get some clothes -

Until your hands started palming to where he is, pulling him closer to you once they found him.

Now he is a statue. A sweating, flustered, naked statue.

Sigh... those typical aftermath scenes of a person turning back to humans from animals but ends up being naked - how typical indeed. He's gotta wake you up on this one now, huh.

Hey, he doesn't have much fear about waking you up- but accidentally flashing you with his naked slim body in the process is a different story!!!!

"Eh... eh... oh... Babe...?" He whispers as he tries to poke your sides.

... Now, this is a true horror scene in his mind.

____

//Diggers//

He really thought it was juice.

But no, it wasn't;;; 😭

He was calm enough to stay in Sotheby's arms until he decided to hop into yours--- staring intensively at you with those big eyes that seem like they're about to cry;;;

'Baby, help me,,,," 😭🥺 He pleads, but ends up sounding like he is croaking softly. Crap...

Now he's going to be a frog inside a bubble for one day - how is he going to eat now when he's hungry???

He was about to make more worried frog noises as he had to come to the conclusion he had to meditate throughout hunger;;; until you just simply popped his big bubble with a finger.

...Oh.-

The Frog now hops into your arms now, croaking almost as if it’s purring in 'thank you'.

Awww...

So far, Diggers has been a pretty peaceful frog vibing on the palm of your hands.

Well, he may also go silly and start jumping and hopping everywhere at his van - all carefree and adventurous. He would try and watch how high he is when trying to move around outdoors.

Despite him being on your palms once in a while because his skin needs to breath sometimes, he doesn't demand much from you as he always seems to take liking of stating at you work--- except that he has these big doe eyes of a tiny frog now.

I can imagine that he sometimes floats when he summons the huge bubble back to engulf him--

he would be struggling to control how to float towards you at first, but the more willing he wants to stay close to you, the better he was at it;;;

It didn't help when you told him you were just going to be off for 2 minutes for a drink, and he's already trying to follow you by blowing bubbles with his own mouth😭

His doe eyes only close for a long time whenever you gently rub his tiny head;;;;

Once he goes back to normal, he is surprised when seeing his state---- happy surprise.

He wasn't fazed by the fact that he's naked. It's so funny.

Now he sobs happily as he can finally be a man once again---!!! Freedom!!!

He giggles happily before planting kisses on your forehead once seeing you wake up and blushing from seeing him shirtless.

"Darling, I'm finally back,,,"

(also mopping on a corner.... Thinking he has been acting so chaotic around you, he couldn't forgive himself and that he won't get head rubs from you fhdhdbdb)

Oh, how much he underestimated you - you still give him headrubs!!! (He luvs them so much, my god;;)

[ohbo-ohno]

As the resident pet play expert, is there any big difference between puppy play and kitten play? (I guess it would be called that?) As in, your sub is a kitten instead of a puppy? And do you think Ghost would be interested in having both a puppy and a kitten? I think Johnny would enjoy feeling like a big dog playing rough with a Kitten!Reader

ok wait as funny as it is to call me the resident pet play expert, i do want to make it clear that 90% of my writing is really not a good introduction to kink lmao. pretty much nothing i write is consensual, which automatically makes it unhealthy kink. pls god set boundaries and safewords when fucking around with pet play in real life, i am begging you :')

anyways! oh man i am so glad you asked because there is a reason i prefer puppy play to kitten play, but it is entirely based on my own personal preference and perception of those kinks lmao

so at their base, puppy play and kitten play are essentially the same. they both fall into pet play and that idea of being treated like an animal. that inherently has some degradation (since the person is literally less than human), but to me it's very different types of degradation

for me, i prefer puppy play because it feels inherently more degrading in general, and i prefer that as a kink. a puppy is sweet, sure, but a puppy is something that has to be trained, that's often too energetic to be trained easily (lending itself to words like silly and stupid). a puppy is overeager and desperate to please and impress, a puppy is something that needs to be guided with a stern hand and shown who's in charge

kitten play always feels softer, more affectionate to me. a kitten is cute, something to be cradled in your palm, something soft and sweet. maybe they've got claws or small sharp teeth, but overall they're mostly harmless and something to be doted on, and any attempt at an attack is a joke. to me, kitten play lends itself more to praise and pillow princess. works great for some characters, but it's just not something i personally prefer to write!

anyways i've written both with ghoap x reader (in asks at least), but i personally prefer puppy play so i tend to lean away from kitten play. i will say - i'm not sure ghost would lean into pet play without soap there. as much as i can see him loving to dote on something sweet, i think he would need the roughness of puppy play to balance out all that softness

i'm mixed on whether or not johnny would like to have a kitten!reader. in my writing (aka noncon stuff)? sure! because he can ignore that she doesn't like the rougher play, doesn't like having a pup on top of her :/ but i think he'd have a harder time calming himself down in a consensual world lol

however, if you'd like to read some johnny x reader petplay: @/bunnyreaper's fic collars and cages is a great read that i've loved! i really love her characterization of johnny and tbh im super jealous of her grasp on him as a character :,)

[lilithknoxville]

Don’t Say That I Didn’t Warn You (Johnny Knoxville x Reader)

Summary: Johnny was the king of bad decisions, and you were his worst one.

Content Warnings: Angst, Drug Usage and Mentions, Vulgar Language, Mild Sexual Content, Unhealthy/Toxic Relationship

Word Count: 2,375

AN: oh god holy fuck this is my first fic I’ve ever posted online. and it’s an angst. IM SO FUCKING NERVOUS HAHAHAHA. anyways, the song I based this fic off is linked below, you should totally listen to it alongside this, but it’s not something you have to do. It’s just a really good song. Also pls like,,, give me requests or smth. I’m gnawing at the bars of my cage for ideas. Uhhhhhhh ok no beta readers we die like men

Johnny knew the entire whirlwind that brought you into his life was going to hurt. The moment you met his eyes across the bar, his heart doing weird flips in his chest, he knew this was heading down a dark path. You were smoking hot, with a southern accent thicker than honey.

If he only knew how bad it would be.

You became a constant in his life, basically living at his house. Johnny was the king of bad decisions, and you were his worst one. You became everything he thought about quickly. You consumed everything waking thought he had, and even his dreams were filled with you. You had sunk your claws into him, and he knew it would crash and burn sooner rather than later. Even at the beginning.

Cocaine littered his kitchen countertops and his bedside tables, his addiction hitting an all time high with you. You brought out the best and the worst in him, both at the same time. You were simultaneously the fresh breath of air in his lungs and the poison that was killing him.

Ryan’s words echoed in his head, warning him to stay away from you. Ryan had watched you destroy men in the past, without a second thought. The conversation between them echoed in Johnny’s head constantly.

“Dude, I’m fuckin’ telling you,” Ryan had spoken through cigarette smoke, shaking his head, “You wanna stay yourself? Stay away from Pixie Stick.” The bar was crawling with people, but you were the only person Johnny gave a fraction of a fuck about.

“Pixie Stick?” Johnny commented on the nickname, taking a sip from his beer, his eyes unable to tear away from where you were leaning over a pool table, giggling. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from how the shorts you were wearing barely covered your ass.

“Bitch’s got a coke habit from hell. She didn’t have any, so she snorted pixie stick dust to try and get her buzz. Nickname stuck - Look,” Ryan shook his head, making Johnny focus back on him, “Regardless of what we call her, I’m not fuckin’ around when I tell you to stay away from her.”

“Jealous, are we?” Johnny smirked, which earned him a punch in the arm from Ryan.

“I wouldn’t fuck with her if my life depended on it, Knox. She’s bad news. She’s broken, and she’s on a path to destroy everyone around her. I’m not tryin’ to be a cock block, you could get literally any pussy you wanted in here. Just - man to man, friend to friend, whatever. Promise me you’ll stay the fuck away.”

Johnny had promised, half assed at best, but whatever he had said satisfied Ryan enough to get him off of Johnny’s case. Johnny couldn’t tear his eyes off of her half clothed ass, the tits straining to pop out of her skimpy shirt. Johnny’s mouth had gone dry, and he instantly forgot what Ryan had said.

He wished he had listened now, after months of heartbreak, turmoil, and trying to find himself again.

He had walked over to you, laying on the southern charm thick. He remembered how you looked at him head to foot, that smirk on your lips that dug its way into his psyche. The two of you hit it off immediately, and Johnny didn’t see a fraction of whatever Ryan was talking about. When small talk steered into if you had any exes, you looked up at him with the sweetest eyes, telling him that you had a few in high school, but they were all mutual breakups - you were still great friends with them to this day. You told him - in a purr that haunted his mind for months to come - that since you had been in California, you hadn’t dated at all. You were just enjoying being young.

Lie number one, Johnny would come to find out. He didn’t know how much you craved the destruction until he realized one of his close friends was one of your victims. Bam, who used to be loud and boisterous, had become a shell of himself after a brief fling with you.

When Bam found out about Johnny fucking around with you, he urged Johnny to just walk away while he still could. Sure, things were sunshine and roses now, but the destruction would start slowly. It would be a fire that licked at his bones and then turn into a full blown blaze. She wouldn’t stop until the men she fucked around with were nothing but ashes in the wind.

Johnny had always figured it was because Bam missed you, didn’t want Johnny to take his spot, but he soon came to find out that Bam wasn’t lying to him at all. You broke people down to their worst, and you left without a second thought.

Johnny, of course, didn’t find this out until he was at that same level.

Your relationship was tumultuous - on again, off again. Johnny would get enough strength to leave you, trying to move on. But he’d find himself in a moment of weakness. He’d call you, begging you to come over, to love him again. And there you were, knocking on his door, with a baggie of coke and a bottle of whiskey, and he’d be wrapped around your little finger again.

He knew it wasn’t love. Nothing about you was love. At best, it was just lust and jealousy. At worst, it was hatred and venom.

The image of you leaned up against his door frame, your silhouette wrapped in smoke from his cigarette was one that had yet to leave his mind. You had crawled over the bed to him, stealing the cigarette from his lips. You straddled his hips, his hands roaming over the expanse of your back.

“We can’t keep doin’ this.” He murmured against the skin of your neck, and the laugh you gave him rattled through his bones.

“You always say that. Yet, it’s always you who’s begging me to come back.” You took a last drag off the cigarette, extinguishing it on his tongue. The burn of the cherry made him groan in pleasure, his head lolling back against the pillows. You slid down, your lips wrapping around his cock. He groaned, his hand flying to your hair. He looked down at you, your plump lips wrapped so perfectly around him, and any complaint or worry he had was quickly dismissed from his mind.

Your body was made for him, or that’s what he told himself. The way your pussy gripped onto his cock, a perfect fit, made his head swim in the best way possible.

You were an Angel, sent to him from Heaven above, before you sunk your fangs into his neck. You infected him, and no matter what, he couldn’t tear off the bandage and break things off for good. He knew you were destroying him, he knew that every word you spoke was just to get into his pants and get him wrapped even tighter around your finger.

But, fuck, was he enamored by you. Every swing of your hips, every lick of your lips, every breathless chuckle you gave him when he rolled off the top of you, everything you did and would ever do made his heart twist in his chest and make him dizzy. It wasn’t even a situation of rose coloured glasses tainting your view of someone. He knew you were shitty, he just couldn’t bear the thought of being without you.

But you couldn’t have one victim at a time, Johnny would also come to find out.

He came home early from a shoot one day, and he walked into his bedroom to find you underneath Bam. Fucking in his bed. Johnny had seen red, and he had enough strength to kick you out then and there. But he wasn’t strong for long, begging for you to come back after only three days. You came back into his life, forgiving him for what had happened. Somehow, he took all the blame for you cheating on him.

This happened countless more times, enough to where Johnny would just look past you underneath another man, his eyes glassing over and a dollar bill in his nose. You were here, who cared what you were doing? You fed his worst habits, keeping him medicated and drunk every night.

The final break came when you began to pack your things. Johnny had sat up in bed, looking at you with confused eyes. He couldn’t tear his eyes off of your body as you stripped out of his shirt, putting on an outfit of your own.

“Where are you goin’?” He had asked, anxiety eating at the lining of his stomach. You shrugged, continuing to shove clothes into a duffel bag. He watched shirts he loved go into your bag, his Knoxville belt buckle disappearing into the pile.

“Leavin’.” Was all you replied with, and Johnny felt his stomach hitting the ground. He scrambled up from bed, trying to stop your movements, even if just for a second. His hands went around your waist, to your wrists, your biceps. His hands ghosted over you, trying to get you to change your mind.

“Wait, wait. Leavin’? To where?” He asked, his voice tight and edged with panic. You pulled out of his hands, giving him a smile that even in that moment had his stomach doing flips and his head spinning.

“Nowhere in particular.” You had given him a final kiss, the door slamming behind you sending a shudder through his apartment. He had stood there, in your wake, still fully trying to process what had happened.

He frantically called you thirty seven times that night, before he drank himself into a restless sleep. He woke up the next morning, hungover as fuck, and you hadn’t answered him once. He sent text messages and called you endlessly over the next couple of days, but his texts were never opened, phone calls never answered. Eventually, his texts stopped getting delivered and his phone calls stopped connecting to your voicemail.

He was hollow, a shell of his former self. He fell asleep every night with a whiskey bottle in his hands, his mind crawling with nothing but you. Your smell lingered on everything he owned, and in a fit of drunken rage, he destroyed everything in his apartment that had your smell. He called Ryan, the only person he thought could help him. The call connected, and he cried out his sorrows. Ryan was silent on the other end.

“Don’t say that I didn’t warn you, Knox.” Was the only reply Johnny had gotten before the call disconnected. He felt numb, laying there in an empty apartment. Your giggles, your voice whispering his name, and your voice telling him that you ‘loved him’ haunted the halls of his apartment, and it drove him insane.

He poured his pain into his stunts, not giving a fuck about his safety anymore. Concussions eased the memory of you for a while, and then you were back like an ice pick through his skull. Broken bones eased the pain in his heart until they healed and then that ache was back. He was destroying himself physically the way you destroyed him emotionally and mentally. He was teetering on the edge when Bam finally pulled him out of his stupor, allowing him to finally move on.

It had been months since he had last heard from you, your memory nothing but an ache in his chest and an ache in his nose. He cut coke completely out, dealt with the detox for a couple of weeks, and he was starting to finally heal. He smiled more, laughed way more, and his stunts went back to their perfect level of stupid and safe.

He started going to parties and bars again, letting himself live how he used to. He nursed sodas instead of whiskey, fully sober for the first time in his life since he was a child.

“PJ.” You had purred behind him, in the same tone of voice that had gotten him hooked all that time ago, and he stopped dead in his tracks. He turned around slowly, and there you were. Even though he knew in his right mind that you were nothing but trouble, every fibre of his skin and muscles ached to reach out and touch you again, run his fingers over your skin. He swallowed thickly, “Fancy seein’ you out again.” You had smiled, your white teeth gleaming.

“Yep, just enjoyin’ the time with my friends.” He swallowed uncomfortably, dancing from foot to foot nervously. You eyed him down again, and he couldn’t help but do the same. You were wearing his Knoxville belt buckle, it hanging low on your hips.

“Missed you, baby.” You reached up, feeling his chest through his shirt, “How have you been since-”

“Since you left me in my apartment, without even so much as an explanation?” He narrowed his eyes and he almost relished in the way you faltered for a second. Of course, you recovered flawlessly.

“Can you blame a girl for needing her space?” You asked, looking up at him with the most sickeningly sweet eyes. Your voice dripped with honey, and Johnny shuddered under your palms on his chest, “You’re actin’ like I murdered your dog, when I just needed space. I missed you.” You were in his bubble, the feeling all too much and not enough at once. Johnny’s breath came out in pants, his body thrumming with desire and disgust.

In a spark of courage - that he didn’t know where it came from- he placed his hands over yours, taking them off of his chest. He dropped your hands gently, grabbing his cup of soda again. He flashed you a dazzling smile, relishing in the way your cheeks puffed up in anger.

“Well, I ain’t missed you, darlin’.” He patted your shoulder, disappearing into the crowd. They weren’t the words he wanted to say, but they were the words he needed to say. He couldn’t let himself fall back into your snare again, for fear of how devastating you’d break him again.

Johnny was only a smart man sometimes, but his smartest move was walking away from you for good.

[bloodweep]

I just wanna say how good your writing is it’s inspired me to start writing my own shit for JD because there’s barely anything on the internet about him and I need this troll CARNALLY it’s not even funny 😭😭

But yeah your writing is so good I come back to your page every day and I enjoy everything you’ve written :]

RAHHH IM PUNCHING MY FACE ON THE FLOOR PLS I HAVENT WRITTEN LIKE THIS IN SO LONG AND THE LAST TIME I DID IT WAS FOR TRANSFORMERS

Im clawing my cage

You have no idea how feral I am for this man, the things I write about him get me so giddy I have to turn away from my screen

I SWEAR IF I WAS GOOD AT ART I WOULD MAKE SO MANY DRAWINGS WITH MY OC WITH HIM

That makes me so damn happy people enjoy my stuff

[leviaju]

forgiveness

pairing: belphegor x GN! reader, hints of everyone x reader

words: 8.1k+

genre: angst, fluff at the beginning and a bit at the end if u squint

warnings: mentions of mc and lilith’s death, foul language

preview: “I’m sorry,” He begins, voice much weaker than anticipated. “I know that will never cut it, and it will never be enough, but I’m sorry.” 

“You’re right, Belphegor. It won’t cut it.”

hey guys what up. so... i’ve done a lot of thinking about belphegor’s dynamic with MC, and, like many others, was really bothered by the sudden switch after... he killed them. u know. typical stuff. i wanted to fill in the gaps!!! if im being completely honest, this has sat in my wips for.... like half a year. it’s my first time writing for obey me, so i hope that everyone’s not too terribly ooc LOL

anyways yeah. i mention how belphegor killed mc a couple of times, so proceed with caution! hopefully, if i get any ideas, the next stuff i write will be a lot lighter. hope you enjoy! (also requests r open soooooooo)

The weight on your chest crushed your rib cage, threatening to snap your bones like they were nothing more than twigs. All you could see was the pitch black of eternal night, and whether your eyes were opened or closed you couldn’t tell. What commanded your attention was the searing pain in your lungs, growing exponentially every half-second, and the unrelenting grip that was slowly shattering your esophagus. No matter how hard you struggled, squirmed and fought against the weight holding your body down, there was no use. It was pointless. The pain spread from the raging fire in your lungs to the tips of your fingertips, and everywhere felt as if you had been set aflame. Slowly, a light illuminated the force keeping you down. 

You couldn’t make out much, save for the cackle that rang insufferably through your ears, and the intense eyes that were staring you down. 

They held no remorse. 

-

Bones ache as you rest against your bed, finally allowing the tension in your muscles to melt away. You’d never mistake this feeling for regret of a busy day, having spent so much time with the people you care about, but it certainly took its toll on you. 

It began with Satan, who’d asked you the night before to accompany him on an early morning walk. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence — he’d invite you to join his morning routine on every day off, and you’d never refuse — hence, at the wonderful time of 7:00am, you were venturing around the Devildom, hand in hand with the Avatar of Wrath. The two of you would walk, occasionally resting on a park bench for longer than either of you would like to admit, for about an hour and a half before you took an official break. The time was filled with pleasant chatter and comfortable silence. Every so often he’d squeeze your hand, and when you’d look over, the fondest of smiles crossed his face. It was a reminder of how glad he was that you joined him. 

At around 8:30, he took you into a café for breakfast, and two of you spent only about thirty minutes there chattering away happily. For the most part, he was vividly and excitedly discussing a book he’d just finished the night before…

Until you were interrupted.

“Hello, lovely!” Asmodeus wrapped his arms around you from behind, just before pressing a kiss on your cheek. Satan sighed, resting his head in his hand as he watched the interaction. 

“My selfish older brother’s been hogging you all morning, I couldn’t help but want to whisk you away!”

Despite the glare Satan was sending his way, Asmodeus took a seat next to you, happily engaging in conversation as he completely ignored his brother. He told you that the mall was opening in about an hour, and Asmo desperately wished to get his perfectly-manicured hands on a new makeup product being revealed that day. 

“But of course I can’t go alone! How positively dreary that would be.” His fingers twined with yours as he looked at you hopefully, and you ran your thumb across his hand. A sheepish smile crept its way onto your lips, and you looked over at Satan. He simply nodded, flicking his hand as a gesture for you two to leave, and Asmodeus didn’t hesitate. He was quick to stand and pull you with them, holding tight to you as he whisked you away. You called out to Satan, now alone at the table with a reluctant smile on his face as he waved goodbye. 

“Thanks for breakfast! Get home safe!”

You almost missed the chuckle that left his lips, the café door closing behind you. 

Asmodeus kept you until noon. He got a hold of the lipstick he wanted almost right away, but insisted on buying an outfit to match the colour. Regardless of what you’d initially thought, the outfit wasn’t for him.

“Oh, we’ll look positively stunning together!” He exclaimed after about two hours of forcing you in and out of changing rooms, putting his hands all over you to “adjust the clothing” as he deemed necessary. Near the end, you could feel soreness deep in your muscles creeping in from such an active morning, but Asmodeus’ cheery face and constant flirtations helped you forget about it almost completely. 

It wasn’t until you got home that you truly felt the effects of on-and-off walking since early in the morning. Be that as it may, your stomach was growling, loudly reminding you that it was now past lunch. As much as you wished to give up on food for the time being and instead head to your room to collapse, the pain in your belly was enough to urge you to cease any arguments, instead ready to try and ignore the ache in your bones in order to quell the angry rumbling of your stomach. 

Unfortunately, when you finally made it to the kitchen, there was no food prepared. Instead, what you found was a dejected Beelzebub, frowning softly as he once again was at the receiving end of a lecture from the eldest of his brothers. As quiet as possible, you snuck into the kitchen, trying to listen in on their conversation. 

There was silence, followed by a sigh. 

“It’s easier to simply ask what’s going on as opposed to trying to eavesdrop, MC.”

You jumped, then bashfully made your way into the kitchen, a sheepish grin on your face. Lucifer was rubbing his temple. 

“Beelzebub was supposed to be on lunch duty, but ended up ‘taste-testing’ to the extent that he ate it all. Again.” Lucifer sighed. The typically perfect eldest brother was being run ragged, if the bags forming under his eyes told you anything. “So, instead of working on the papers I have to get finished for tonight, I’m stuck making lunch while he cleans up.”

Beelzebub’s frown tugged at your heartstrings, and in spite of the exhaustion clawing relentlessly at your bones, you relented. 

“Why don’t I help? Four hands are better than two,” you proposed, and a small smile graced Lucifer’s face. He lifted his hand to brush the disheveled black hair out of his face, and your chest ached just a bit at the sight. You made a mental note to drag him to bed for a nap the next time you saw him like this.

“That would be more than welcome. Please, if you may.” Already you turned to start working, but Lucifer’s voice made you pause. 

“But no feeding Beel. He’s eaten more than his fill already, he can wait until we’re all done.”

Needless to say, every so often you’d slip Beelzebub a piece of chopped vegetable or cooked meat, and he’d very happily (but quietly!) munch away, his expression radiating warmth and joy. And Lucifer, who seemed to almost be omniscient at times, never once mentioned it. Once the three of you were done cooking, Lucifer placed his hand on your head, patting you gently. 

“Good work, MC. I must leave now, but I trust that the two of you will be able to clean everything up. Your help was much appreciated. You will be paid back in kind for all of your hard work.”

If nothing else, the slight blush on Lucifer’s face as he ever-so-gently pressed his lips to the crown of your head was more than enough payment. 

“Thank you.” Beelzebub cleared his throat, washing the dishes as you dried them. “I… Thanks for helping. And feeding me.”

His smile warmed your heart, and you nodded, bumping your arm with his gently. The small bit of pink that dusted his cheeks compelled you to coddle him, but you resisted the urge. Barely.

“Anytime, big guy.”

After you ate lunch, the only thought in your mind was the prospect of curling up under your covers and passing out. The fretful, broken sleep the night before wasn’t helping at all in keeping you awake, and that on top of the rest of the day’s events had you yearning for the feeling of your pillows. 

Unfortunately, you hadn’t even made it through the door when your phone began to blow up, one notification after the other in quick succession.

GGKKJFLFJG

MC

CMOE QUIC K

PLS

SUPE R RARE EVENT IN MONONONOKE 

PELASE 

YOU HVE TO BE PARTNERED WIHT SOMEONE TO GTE THE PRIZE

MC

MC

PL E A S E

HURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHHHUUURRRRRYYYYYYYYYYY

You found yourself in Leviathan’s room, sat in his lap as he explained the event to you. Your half-asleep brain did its best to keep up with his quick speech, but that, along with the warmth of his chest against your back, became the most soothing lullaby. 

“Hey! Normie! I agreed to let you sit here so I could easily help you through the event, but if you’re going to fall asleep on me, I’m pushing you off—“

“I’m awake! I’m awake. 

...Now, what was I supposed to do?”

The unintentional giggle that escaped your lips at his expression caused Leviathan to huff, exasperated, despite the flush of his face. Diligently, however, he thoroughly explained the event, for the second time, and the method to obtain the rare prize: a level 2000 I’m Going To Murder You So Hard That You’ll Come Back To Life Just To Die Again Death Sycthe, the strongest weapon ever released in the game. It was a partner event, which explained Leviathan’s desperate and urgent request for aid. You didn’t mind though. While yes, you’d probably never be able to get to his level of gamer, you were more than happy to go along for the ride. It made him happy! 

Leviathan rested his chin against your shoulder as he played on his phone, focused to such a degree that the usually easy-to-fluster demon was completely unphased by your proximity. Your phone, set to AutoFight, rested untouched near Leviathan’s leg, abandoned on the floor. You watched him expertly take out enemies that would have one-hit KO’d you through heavy eyelids, and every time he beat a wave of enemies, his attention would momentarily avert from the screen, looking at you from the corner of his eye expectantly. A kiss on his cheek was more than enough to motivate him to continue on, albeit with a pink glow on his cheeks until his attention was once again completely wrapped up in the game at his fingertips. 

-

“Levi! I said open up, goddamnit!” 

The pounding against the door was enough to distract Leviathan from his game, subsequently killing his character in the process. He groaned, cursing the demon who interrupted the two of you as he gently lifted you off of his lap, before getting up to open the door. 

“The hell do you want?!”

To be completely honest, you were so wrapped up in watching Leviathan play his games that you had forgotten about your weekly movie night with Mammon, who had come over to his younger brother’s room to drag your ungrateful ass  back to your own. Leviathan had cleared the event in Mononoke Land hours ago, but not wanting you to leave just yet, invited you to keep watching him play. Setting aside how tired you were, how could you say no? You’d wanted to spend time with him, too. 

Unfortunately, you lost track of time, and your phone, battery completely drained from the event, rested uselessly in your pocket. A consequence of this happened to be missing the countless messages and calls Mammon had sent your way, before he began his hunt for you throughout the house. The last place he checked was, of course, Leviathan’s room.

“Come on, human, I ain’t got all day. No one keeps the Great Mammon waiting!” 

“Except for MC,” you heard Leviathan mumble under his breath, and a laugh escaped you before you had the chance to slap a hand over your mouth. Mammon flushed deeply, before striding into his brother’s room. 

“Hey, wait, you moron! I never said—!” 

The force of Mammon throwing you over your shoulder wasn’t enough to hurt, but it certainly was enough to leave you breathless for a moment. “Let’s go, fragile human. I picked the perfect movie already.” Mammon’s words came out in a bashful mumble, but he had enough courage to lift his head and smirk at Leviathan as he carried you out of the room. All you could do was smile apologetically at the blue haired demon before Mammon turned, bringing you out of sight. 

Mammon was all complaints as he carried you to your bedroom, but you knew it came from a place of love. Even though he’d never admit it, you could tell he was hurt by you unintentionally ignoring him. Because of this, instead of demanding he let you down, you allowed him to hold you like this, not a single complaint leaving your lips. 

When he brought you to your room, you were set on the bed you’d missed dearly and he went to put the movie in the player. 

“Hey! No sleepin’ on me, alright? I wanna watch the movie with ya, and I can’t if you’re passed out, now can I?” 

And so here you are now, bed frame creaking as Mammon climbs onto the mattress. Rubbing your eyes, you nod, and lean into him once he gets close enough for you to. 

“Seriously, I’m gonna hafta have a serious talk with Levi,” Mammon grumbles, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in so that you’re almost in his lap. He pulls the blankets over the two of you as you rest your head on his chest, and hum quietly in return. “He used up all your energy, and now we won’t be able to get to enjoy the movie as much! Honestly…”

The vibrations of Mammon’s words can be felt through his chest, and you simply cuddle into him more and try to train your bleary eyes on the television screen. The Avatar of Greed shuts up completely when you take his hand in yours and press a gentle kiss to it, before doing your best to focus on the movie. As time passes, however, the idea of giving into your whims grows more than tempting, and oh-so-easy for you to do. 

-

“Hey! Yo, MC! Seriously… You’re hopeless.”

A chiding, yet gentle voice draws you from the confines of rest. You puff air from your nose in response, cuddling closer to whatever it was that had been so comfortable in the first place.

“MC… Come on. Ya gotta wake up, ya didn’t even watch any of the movie! It was really good, y’know.”

Mammon’s hand rubs circles on your back as you mumble incoherently, a noise to acknowledge the fact that he‘s been talking, and that you are indeed awake now. 

It takes a good amount of time, as well as some gentle encouragement from Mammon, to get you to finally open your heavy eyes, and even longer for you to be able to apologize to him for missing out on the movie he was so excited to watch. He pouts a bit, but the blush on the highs of his cheeks lets you know that he didn’t mind all that much. You smile and yawn, and his chuckle resonates in your ears. 

“I gotta go now, otherwise Lucifer’s gonna kill me for staying so late. Sorry I woke ya up, but ya look so tired now that you’ll probably fall back asleep right away.”

And so, after a quick goodbye and a kiss on the cheek (which made Mammon turn the prettiest shade of red), you close your door and… sigh. If you had been able to stay asleep, the fact that you aren’t in pajamas and haven't brushed your teeth wouldn't be that much of an issue. Now that you‘re slightly more conscious, however, it’s hard to convince yourself to simply climb back into bed. Your breath is bugging you a bit, and the jeans you’re wearing certainly aren’t at all as comfortable as your pajama pants.  For that reason, to your own dismay, you begin getting ready for bed — properly this time. 

A small “finally…” tumbles from your lips after you finish your nighttime routine. Lacking any form of grace, you plop into bed once more and pull the blankets to your chin, nuzzling into the pillow. Your bed still smells like Mammon’s cologne, and you hum softly to yourself before closing your eyes and waiting for sleep to take over once more, and hold you hostage until late in the morning. 

Alas, sleep seemed to be evading you now, similar to how you had ignored it during the day. The mattress you lay on simply isn't comfortable anymore, and the blankets that hug your body cause you to overheat. Unfortunately, if even one limb is out of the blanket, you get so cold you start shivering. None of your typical sleeping positions are anywhere near as effective as they typically are, and you’re left to wrestle with sleep alone, hoping to beat it into submission so you can finally get some proper rest. 

After about 45 minutes of tossing and turning with no results, you finally relent. The nap you’d taken while watching the movie royally fucked you over, and you groan. Eventually you decide to give up on trying to fall back asleep, and huff as you sit properly on your bed. 

Blanket dragging behind you as it drapes from your shoulders, you slowly make your way through the silent hallways of the House of Lamentation. The only sounds floating through the walls were the light buzz of electricity running through the wiring of the house, and your own footsteps as you began walking up one of the many staircases in the large building. 

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been walking, the passage of time different at night to a hazy mind, but eventually you arrive at your favourite area in the house, second only to your lush bedroom. There are no artificial lights, only the gentle cast of the night sky providing the ideas of shape in the planetarium. You’ve never seen stars so vibrant and bright, and there are so many more in the Devildom than anywhere you could go back home. Even though the only light comes from the stars, it’s enough to create soft, fuzzy edges around everything in the room; this includes the bundle of various blankets mussed in the centre of the floor. Slowly, cautiously, you make your way towards the pile. 

Since you’d arrived in the Devildom, the planetarium at the top of the House of Lamentation became your safe haven. Your room, without a lock on the door, was way too easy for intruding demons to enter without permission, and on nights when everything became too much for you to handle, you’d head up to the planetarium to clear your mind. There’s just something so calming about a starry sky on a clear night that releases you of your fears and anxiety, and helps you get a grip on the situation around you. 

After freeing a certain someone from their attic-based captivity, however, you learned that the planetarium was a place favored not only by you. Since he’d been freed, you’d been kind, but there were still fears plaguing your mind, reminding you of everything that has transpired between the two of you. It’s something that you can’t escape, following you even - especially - in your sleep, when you wished you’d be the most at peace. It makes sense, considering the sin he embodies, but you wish it wasn’t like that nonetheless. 

Once you’d learned that this was one of his favourite rooms in the house, especially on nights when he can’t fall asleep, you found yourself avoiding this area. It’s not that you hate him; it’s the opposite, really. Nevertheless, you can’t help but feel the tightening of his fingers around your neck, and the burning sensation in your lungs that’s screaming for oxygen, and the desperation to alleviate the seer of deprivation. 

Still, you trek on. Closer and closer to the pile of blankets, your gut cries to you to run away. You ignore it. The nearer you get to the nest of blankets, the faster your heart beats, the more lightheaded you feel. But you continue. 

Eventually you get close enough to make out the shape of a familiar pillow, the cow print on the case worn and well-loved. From the moment you walked in the room, you knew he was here. All the same, you walk on, and the only sounds in the room are the gentle taps of your clothed feet against the tile, and the quiet noises of your quickened breaths.

You’ve avoided being alone with him since… Since you… Since the event. Your heart screamed at you to forgive him, to love him just as much as you love his brothers. That said, there’s nothing in you that can stop your stomach from churning whenever he gets too close. 

Butterflies beat aggressively within your heart and stomach, and it’s years before you get within his range of sight, but you sit down on the floor, holding the blanket tight to your body. 

There’s one beat, 

two beats,

three beats of silence before you can hear him sucking in a breath through his teeth. In your peripheral you can see his lips parting, closing, parting again as he tries to find the words. He heard you walk in, and was pleasantly surprised when you didn’t immediately bolt in the opposite direction. However, this proximity leaves him with an entirely new predicament. He wants to talk to you, he wants to laugh and joke with you the way his brothers do, but one look at your face and he notices the dark bags under your eyes, and the frown that tugs at your lips as you stare up at the stars. He can hear your heart racing, and feel his own in the tips of his fingers. He opens his mouth again, but the crack in his voice betrays his usual collected personality. 

“I’ll go,” Belphegor begins, begrudgingly starting to gather his blankets. His body freezes when his eyes pass over your figure and you’re looking right at him, through him, and he swears he can feel the blood in his veins stop pumping. Your expression is unreadable, almost scary, and he’s never in his life been in fear of a human until this moment. 

The seconds pass as years do, both of your bodies chilled to the bone but neither of you able to look away. In the end, the one who casts their gaze somewhere else is you, and he exhales loudly. 

“Don’t.”

Your reply is simple, but he’s stuck in place. Slowly, he nods, sitting down again the way he had been prior, and pulling his beloved pillow close to his chest. He can’t breathe, the tension suffocating. It doesn’t help that now you refuse to look at him. 

“... If you want,” he replies dumbly, staring at the floor. He feels trapped in place, afraid to move and scare you off. Despite every nerve in his body screaming at him to leave you be, he stays. You told him to, after all. Slowly, you sit down, his blankets creating a low wall between the two of you.

It’s only now that he gets a good look at you. You're tired, he knows, watching as your eyelids droop and your lazy movements when you get more comfortable under your blanket, but there’s more to it than just that. You seem so fragile, like sugar glass, breaking with even the slightest amount of pressure. He feels he can reach over and shatter you with the gentlest of touches, and that thought alone roots him in place. Since you came back, he’s never seen you without a smile. Your genuine smile was the prettiest, he decided rather early on, one that lights up your face and brightens those around you. Belphegor really, truly loves your smile.

He knows there was a point in time, not long ago, where he could have made it so no one saw it ever again. He can’t help but be grateful he didn’t succeed when he sees you smiling at his brothers. 

That’s never the smile you show him though. It’s not for lack of effort; you certainly try, and he loves you for that. But the smile you show him is always plastered on, and he knows you’re doing it for his sake. With Belphegor, your smile never reaches your eyes. Be that as it may, you’re never weak around him. Fake smiles prove exactly how strong you really are, but your heart races every time he enters the room. As much as he wishes your palpitations are out of excitement, he knows better than to give himself false hope. 

That’s why he’s so taken aback when he looks you over and you seem so vulnerable. Never, not in a million years, would he ever let himself believe that you’d allow yourself to look weak in front of him, not after what he did. Even so, here you are, shaking, knees drawn into your chest, and his heart soars because you’re showing him a new side to yourself. It aches at the knowledge that you’re feeling so vulnerable because of him. 

His eyes burn holes in the side of your head. You know he’s watching you, studying you, but you can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Not when the hands he uses to pull the blankets over his body are the exact same ones that led you to your untimely and violent demise, and not when every time you look at his face, you can also see Mammon’s above you, sobbing as he tries to will you not to fade away into nothingness. 

There’s no putting it nicely. You were murdered, and Belphegor was the one who killed you. As much as he tries to pretend it never happened, to act around you the same as his older brothers do, you would never forget. Neither would he, regardless of the effort he puts into pushing the memory out of his mind. His chosen way of coping was to laugh with you, to get close and have you forgive him without acknowledging the situation. It was too painful to talk about, after all. He willingly, happily snuffed out the life of someone his brothers love, and someone he’d find himself loving too. You became someone who changed him, helped him grow and be better. It was easier, simpler to act as if you’d met him the same way you’d met any of his brothers. 

Belphegor killed one of the last remaining parts of his past, a part that, while once warm and light, mutated and infected him, causing his anger to grow out of control, like a weed that suffocates any flower that tries to flourish. He killed a descendant of his sister, and the fact that you’re here now is more of a second chance than he thinks he could ever deserve in all his millenia of living. 

And yet, here you are. Scared and shaking, but here. The silence has stretched on for longer than he’d like; he wants to be able to love you, openly and happily, but knows it won’t happen. It can’t, unless he does what he thought was the very last thing he’d do. 

“I’m sorry,” Belphegor begins, voice much weaker than anticipated. He can hear your heartbeat pick up, and he curses himself mentally. Your lip between your teeth, you remain silent. His nerves force him to speak more. 

“I know that will never cut, and it will never be enough, but I’m sorry.”

There’s more silence. He feels like he can’t breathe, the tense atmosphere forcing its way around his throat and tightening its grip. He doesn’t know how long it takes you to even contemplate replying, let alone allow yourself to respond. Belphegor’s ears ring almost deafeningly loud. He can’t take it.

“You’re right.” 

His eyes, which he trained to the ground, dart up to your profile once more. You pause, wetting your lips. 

“You’re right, Belphegor. It won’t cut it.”

There’s not enough time to process your words before he really, really looks at you. Almost fearlessly, you meet his eyes. 

Almost fearlessly. 

The shaking of your hands betrays the strength of your voice. Belphegor’s chest aches. 

“But…”

There’s a pause as you speak. He can’t look away again, even as your eyes meet the stars once more. There’s no chance he’ll miss a word you say, even if it tears him apart.

“It’s… it’s really difficult. I know you know that, but…”

Each time you pause, Belphegor’s mind begins storming. He can’t figure out what you’re going to say, or how you’re going to react, and it drives him crazy. He’s usually so good at reading people, but you’re an enigma. It sends a chill down his spine. 

His throat is caught. Even if he had words to say, they wouldn’t be able to come out. So he sits in silence as you find your own. 

“I don’t want you to feel worse than you do.” You lick your lips. “Or maybe I do? I… I really don’t know. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about you, Belphie.”

The nickname tugs at his heart, more than he could ever admit. He wants to cry, wants to scream, wants to do anything other than look at your melancholy face, knowing he’s the problem. He wants to run and hide, to sleep forever. He can’t, though. Not when you’re here. Not now. 

Knuckles turn white as he clutches desperately onto his pillow. His breath shakes as he draws in air. 

“I want to love you. I want to love you as much as I love your brothers, and care about you as much as I care for them…”

You struggle to find the words. 

“... But it’s hard.”

You curse your lack of eloquence. Now, of all times, when your words are the only thing that enable you to communicate how you truly feel, they fail you. This might be your only chance to ever properly show Belphegor how you feel, what makes you so conflicted every time he walks into the room with a smile on his face, and yet all you can say is “it’s hard”. Obviously. 

A breath finds its way into your lungs, and the sound of your lips parting in the otherwise silent planetarium echoes in your ears.

You continue.

“It’s hard because every time I see your face, or I hear your voice, or I-”, you falter, heart catching in your throat, “or you touch me, I can’t help but be reminded of what happened.”

Belphegor doesn’t dare tear his eyes away from your form. The grief that settles into his face perfectly matches your own, eyebrows upturned and bottom lip quivering just the slightest bit. Even the trembling of your hands is replicated in his own. He’s never seen you like this, so incredibly vulnerable, and it tears him apart inside to know that he is the cause of it.

A shuddery breath comes from Belphegor, and you fight your instincts to check if he’s okay. You know he isn’t.

The silence deafens you, thundering in your ears so harshly that you're tempted to place your hands at the side of your head to muffle how quiet it is. You don’t, however, and whether it’s because you don’t want to look crazy, or because you’re afraid you might shatter if you move, you’ll never know. Do you want him to talk? Do you want him to say anything? Do you want an apology?

If you had an answer for that, you’re sure that things would have patched themselves up much quicker than this. You caution a glance at Belphegor, and the weight pressing down on your chest gets heavier at his expression. It feels almost as if you can inhale the guilt he feels, the emotion radiating off of him in waves.

“I… Logically, Belphie, I get it.” Again with that cursed nickname. Usually, hearing it from your lips makes Belphegor feel warm and goddamn near giddy, but now it only seemed to drive the knife in his gut further. 

“I understand what happened and why you did it. I may not agree… but I get it, you know?” You swallow.

“In the end, I’m still here. And… and I’ve come to learn that you’re nothing like that anymore. You’ve grown, and changed, and the guilt and anger that consumed you took control, and that's why you-- that’s--” 

You pause, clutching the blanket around you to try and ground yourself. The shakiness in your voice is not missed by Belphegor, and even if it had been, there’s no way he’d be able to ignore the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. Slowly, subconsciously, one of your hands comes up to rest against your neck, a phantom of the grasp that once threatened to crush you.

“S-So… I understand why you did it. And I’m alive, and we’re friends, so it should all be okay, right?” Belphegor casts his glance away.

“But Belphie… as much as I want to forgive you, I also know that I’m never going to be able to forget what happened. It’s there in my dreams, and it’s there in your smile, and it’s there every single time your arm brushes mine and I flinch like a total loser.”

A weak chuckle makes its way out of your chest, and the halfhearted smile that follows forces a tear from your eye. You’re quick to wipe it away, hopefully quick enough so that it goes unnoticed by Belphegor.

It does.

What he does notice, however, is the frustration that holds tight to the edges of your sentences. The frustration is not directed at him, no. You would be yelling if that were the case, and maybe that would be easier for him to hear. No, this frustration is directed at yourself. You’ve been trying so hard, and all Belphegor has been doing is running away. His teeth dig so hard into his bottom lip, trying desperately not to show any anger he feels at himself, that he tastes iron.

“And then we became all buddy-buddy, you know? Like I was never lied to, or used, or manipulated, or-- or--”

Belphegor is torn from his self-pity when you continue, and he almost wishes you’d stop speaking. The thought that you might break him with your words has him shaking, and a feeling similar to fear courses heavily through his veins. Please, stop. He wants to go back to running away.

But you continue, as you always have.

“And I’m left not knowing how to feel. I’m so mad at myself for being such a coward and not being able to just get over it like everyone else, and I’m so fucking pissed that I can’t just exist around you like I do for everyone else. I mean, I used to be terrified of Lucifer, too.” Another fragile laugh, and you sweep the hair from your eyes with a shaky hand. Belphegor swallows hard.

“But I… I can’t pretend like nothing happened. As much as I want to be near you, and hug you, and take naps and play pranks on Luci with you… I can’t. I can’t act as if what I feel isn’t real, and what you did didn’t happen. It’s so hard, Belphegor.” You sigh, and finally look at him once more. He can’t meet your gaze, slumped over himself and hugging his pillow so tight to his chest it seems as if he wishes to disappear into it. “Especially because I really, truly want to understand why everyone loves you so much. And I want to love you, too. I want to know why Beel smiles every time you’re brought up in conversation, and I want to smile just the same. But… But right now, I can’t.”

Talking has gotten easier. The words that used to escape you have become accustomed to being used again, and confidence has restored in your gut. You sit a bit straighter as you watch Belphegor carefully, a sad smile lifting your cheeks. 

Belphegor knows that this is when he should swoop in, say something so intellectual that you’re caught off guard, and he can save you from… himself. This knowledge does nothing to save him from himself. He can’t even open his mouth to mime a sentence, let alone actually speak. The thought of how pathetic he must look settles under Belphegor’s skin, and he can feel his irritation rising. Not at you though, never at you. Not even when… When it all happened. His anger was misplaced, but he has never been angry at you.

Finally, when the quiet becomes too much, he forces himself to meet your gaze. The way you look at him, just as vulnerable and bare and scared as he is… he feels safe. He knows, even though your words sear his heart, that you never mean to hurt him, especially now. You’re being honest, and simply expect the same from him.

Belphegor inhales a deep breath, before willing himself to speak.

“I thought--” he croaks, and quickly clears his throat. Fuck. “I thought that if… if I could pretend that nothing happened, then I wouldn’t have to face any consequences.”

He curses audibly. Just how pathetic can he sound? Belphegor’s voice is hoarse and quivering, and weak. “Weak” is never a word that he would have used to describe himself, but now it echoes hauntingly against the confines of his skull. One of the most powerful demons in existence, and he finds himself quaking before a mere human. He cares for you, though, and he cares for you viciously. Something in Belphegor knows that he’s never going to be able to prove that to you unless he pushes his way through this.

So he forces himself to continue, even with every cell in his body desperately screaming at him to stop.

“I did what I did out of a place of guilt… and regret. I couldn’t stand the fact that it was because of me, that it was my fault, that I’m the reason that Lilith--”

Belphegor stumbles over his own words, and he sets down his pillow before he accidentally tears a hole through it. Instead he braces himself on the cool floor, in need of something steady to hold onto. This whole conversation shook him to the core. He can hardly believe he’s talking about his sister. She’s a topic that he’s avoided even around Beelzebub…

But if Belphegor ever wants even the possibility that you’ll forgive him, he knows he has to. Everything is on the line. His blunt nails press against the tiles and he focuses on steadying his voice.

“I couldn’t accept that it was my fault.” A newfound steadiness weaves its way around his words, and he finds himself sitting a bit straighter. “I’m the one who introduced her to the human world, and kept bringing her back. I’m the reason she suffered, and why the war started, and why we fell, and why she…” Belphegor coughs. “In the end, I couldn’t accept that I’m the one who killed her.

Your heart yearns to tell him that no, he’s wrong, it’s not all his fault. You know it won’t help right now, though, and that it isn’t your time to speak. Settling back a bit, you let your blanket fall from your shoulders. 

Belphegor’s heart stutters, and pounds so hard that he feels like it's trying to tear through his chest. Even so, he doesn’t miss the way your hand reaches out to smooth over his own, and for a moment he feels himself wanting to melt just from the simple touch. 

Belphegor pulls away. He doesn’t deserve your comfort, not yet.

“So… So when you said that you’re a descendant of Lilith, I-- I couldn’t help myself. I jumped at the chance to get to know you, learn about what makes you similar and what makes you different. Her blood flows through your veins, and I was quick to ignore what I did in favour of getting to know you, and… and inevitably, becoming just as fond of you as my brothers… but that can’t erase what I did.”

The feeling of understanding floods you and you find yourself nodding at his words. To be completely honest, even now, you’re scared. Your heart beats for many reasons, fear one of them, but you don’t run away. Not anymore. You couldn’t bring yourself to even if you wanted to.

Your hand, abandoned next to Belphegor’s, lay dormant. The need to comfort wills you to once again place your hand on his, but you don’t move. When he’s ready, if he ever is, you’ll be there.

Just as he’ll be there for you.

“I killed you, MC. And in doing that, I killed Lilith. Again.”

Countless emotions storm their way through Belphegor’s conscience, despair clawing at his throat, regret snapping his back, and guilt slowly crushing him under its weight. How is it that one can feel so empty, and yet so filled to the brim with misery?

“And not only that, but if I succeeded… I would have completely missed out on getting to know you, and caring about you as much as I do now. It would have been a loss that I never would have understood, but know for a fact that I would have felt. Even… Even when I was proud,” he spits out the word as if it’s poison, “of what I’d done, watching my brothers’ hearts break at the sight of your body… Even then, I felt it. The ache. It’s so fucking stupid.”

His tone, now bubbling with anger, stills you. It’s not directed at you, and you know this, but despite yourself, you freeze. Belphegor notices, and quickly clears his throat, relaxing his shoulders. He allows your heart a moment to slow as he regains his composure, and you find yourself breathing again.

“I know that me saying sorry is never going to cut it.” Belphegor turns his body to fully face you. He’s no longer running from his feelings, or from you. He knows he can’t anymore. Hesitantly, he lifts his trembling hand to place over yours. The muscles in your fingers tense, and he pauses to gauge your reaction. When you slowly nod your head once, he delicately places his hand on yours, using his thumb to gently begin massaging the tension away. “And I know that even if I do everything right from here on out, that there’s a chance that you won’t ever forgive me. And I understand why.”

Your heart sinks at his expression, his gaze locked on your joined hands. As aloof as he normally is, you can see none of that on his face now. When you turn over your hand he quickly pulls away, but your shaky movements to bring his hand back and intertwine your fingers urges him to go on. 

“But I want to try. And really try this time. I want you to be honest with how you feel, whether I’m frustrating you or scaring you or anything like that, and… and I want to be honest with you too. I…”

Belphegor trails off, but you squeeze his hand. He draws in a slow breath. 

“No matter what happens, no matter how you feel, we’re stuck together for the next few months. I want to spend that time getting to know you, and I want us to be as close as you are with any of my brothers… but I also want you to know that you shouldn’t feel forced. If it’s ever too much, I need you to tell me, and I promise I’ll back off.”

The smallest of smiles makes its way onto your face as you quietly agree. Belphegor doesn’t allow himself to try and figure out if it's genuine, out of pity, or sadness, but in spite of everything, it makes him feel a bit lighter. Just a bit.

“This won’t fix everything right away,” you say, and he now knows that your smile is a combination of the three. Along with this, though, Belphegor also knows the small sparkle in your eyes is hope, and he’s willing to take that hope and nurture it for however long he must.

“I know,” he sighs, but even he can feel the small tilt of a smile on his face, “but I’m willing to take as much time as you need to decide how you feel about me. And… And if you decide you hate me, which is fair, and that you never want to even be in the same room as me, I’ll respect your wishes.

Until then...Until you decide that you really, truly hate me, I won’t stop trying.”

There’s no way of telling how long his words linger in the air around the two of you, circling around your heads and making their way through your body. Even so, Belphegor diligently watches you, wanting to make sure he’s not overstepping his bounds. He even contemplates letting go of you, but is reassured when slowly, almost unnoticeably, you begin smoothing out the lines on the back of his hand with your thumb.

As much as you want to tell him that you could never hate him, you also know you can’t promise anything. Still, for now, just as much as him, you’re willing to try. You stay in silence, more comfortable than you’ve ever been in his presence, gently caressing the hand held in your own.

Eventually, Belphegor clears his throat once more. The vulnerability has made him tense and rendered his voice weak. 

“Can… can you hug me?” He all but whispers, fragility making his body quiver once more. He was completely open about his feelings for the first time in a lifetime, and the intensity of it left him craving affection. He knows how unfair this is to you, but he can’t help himself. He wishes to be held, for his fears to be quelled by someone so much stronger than him. “If you don’t want to,” he falters, speaking quickly, insecurely, “I won't even touch you. I-If you do, I promise I can keep my hands behind my back, and I won’t even--”

His words end abruptly as he feels you release his hand, and his heart sinks. He debates running away again, until he hears you moving towards him, and he finds he’s frozen in place. Slowly, but surely, with more courage circulating through your veins than you’ve had all night, you make your way over the blankets that divide you and position yourself right next to Belphegor, pulling him into your chest. Even now, he can feel how quickly, persistently your heart races, and yet you stay. True to his word, Belphegor rests his hands on the ground behind his back, but he doesn’t stop himself from nuzzling into your chest… and he cries. The complete, uninhibited release of his emotions hit him like a truck, and he sobs heavily into you, tears slowly but surely staining your shirt. You adjust yourself so you can hold him closer, slowly and reassuringly rubbing his back as he lets go of everything he’s been holding on to for longer than you can even imagine. This is a man who’s run from his emotions for centuries, and the fact that he’s willing to face them for your sake comforts you, cradles your heart and presses gentle kisses against the cracks. You know that you’re not going to wake up tomorrow with everything okay, but for now… for now you’re comfortable with his touch. Heaving in a deep, steadying breath, you reach down just enough to take Belphegor’s arms, and guide them to rest his hands on your hips. At this silent permission, he slowly, delicately wraps his arms around your waist, despite craving your body closer, wanting to hold you tight and never let go. He cradles you like you’re made of the most brittle glass, and you smile. The gesture touches your heart, and… and you feel safe. You know that all he wants to do is embrace you as tight as he can, but he doesn’t, even with permission. 

Here, in Belphegor’s arms, you feel safe. Here, where Belphegor’s grip on you is so gentle that it wouldn’t even crumple paper, you feel loved. As he cries into your chest, holding you as if you were an antique, hope slowly fills your heart.

Everything is far from perfect, but it’s still on the right track, here in the quiet planetarium.

[snowsiamese]

SNEAK PEEK: Heyo everyone! Recently I’ve been in the process of writing a dark fantasy novel that revolves around the Giant/Tiny fandom! Currently im about 3/4’s done writing it! I’ve always wanted to read G/T stories that envelope you into the world, encountering borrowers and giants alike.

So as a project I’ve been working on this book since 2016, character development and story development in the works. I want to share a small sneak peek into one of the first chapters!

I would appreciate it if you guys could read this and tell me any thoughts or criticism in the comments! I hope you enjoy this! If you want to support me, please like and reblog! Thank you!

Now then, onto the sneak peek!!!

——————————————————————————

The echoed screams invaded my ears. The sunset’s harsh light shines in my bruised face. “Sacrifice! Sacrifice the girl!” Fists were flown at me, knocking me to the ground. A bit of blood spattered on the cobblestone pathway. The screams soon hushed to a whisper. Nothing. Not a sound was heard. I felt myself being picked up and thrown inside of the copper cage. I skidded against the cold stone bricks. Chime of the lock alerted me to panic. Breaths seem to escape from my lungs. My calloused hands shielded my face. “Let me ou-” My scream was cut off from my bruised legs that buckled underneath me. The village has chosen the moon sacrifice. I slide down against the copper cage gate. My heart dropped to my stomach. I was alone; alone with a hungry creature of immense power and rage. 

The distant firewood crackled while the flames hungrily grabbed on. The harsh breeze tried to take ahold of my only source of warmth, across the prison. The milky moonlight revealed my small shadow. The wind almost swallowed the noise of the beast. A growl rumbled the floor. I lifted my head to reveal a gaping entrance of enclosed darkness. I heard pants and whimpers inside. I stopped dead. In front of me was a creature... beast… A monster. Cold, translucent eyes appeared from the darkness, focusing on my small figure. Growling soon became imminent. I latched onto the gate, silently praying to whoever can save me. I shook the gate as a last effort to escape. Hissing can be heard from the creature, giving me the signal to stop any movements. My breath constricted my throat as I hold back tears.

Before I knew it, giant claws launched at me grabbing my ragged clothes. Vertigo soon hit me like a truck as I’m raised to eye level. The creature's eyes locked onto mine, seeing distrust. I squeaked with panic as I squirmed around, trying not to fall. To my horror, sharp, glistening teeth were revealed one by one: stained yellow with disease and dried blood. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, yet my mind was frozen shut with utter terror. Instinctively, I shielded myself from the impending doom. Glistening talons dropped me, yet soon captured me again: tossing me around like a worthless ragdoll. With each drop I involuntary scream. With my continuous rhythmic screeches, the slower the terror of being thrown around comes. My screams halted to the stop. It’s cold, unwavering eyes never left my small frame. Trembling in fear I feebly tried to escape. A hoarse growl erupted from the creature, bringing me closer to its face. I knew I was doomed. My shattered mind accepted my death, much faster than I would have hoped. The weight of despair gnaws at me, making me lose all kinds of will to struggle. At this sudden release of raw emotion, the beast titled its head, caught unaware of the sudden defeat.

My eyes gazed at the beast, pleading for only one thing, a quick slice of death. Slash, Crunch, devour… just end my everlasting terror. It’s eyes seem to soften at my plea. Minutes felt like months, its baited breath spanning over my body. Soon the cold stone was all I felt. I looked up at the behemoth, terrified confusion glazing my eyes. It was watching my every move with an unwavering gaze, it's tail swifted back and forth. Stone scraped against my skin as I scurry to the prison gate, metal cutting into my back. No sound can capture the drumming of my heart. My bruises throbbed, painful tears forming. The creature huffs, enamored curiosity plastered on its face. It reached out, sniffing me intensely. The bridge of it’s snout was all I could see. “P….” It’s head tilted, along with its ears shifting. The only thing left was to plead safety. “Pl...please don’t h-hurt me…” My stuttered sentence soon came across the beast, my meaning soon connecting with it. With my pathetic plea, it stops sniffing, slowly pushing its nose even closer. It’s hot breaths spanned over my body. Fear encapsulated my thoughts, bloody images swarming my head….

[diavolosthots]

You know, I know it’s horny town here, but can I ask for some soft sex with Lucifer? And Since I finally managed to get Lucifer’s Wolf UR after so long, can I have Wolf Luci gently fucking Wolf f/mc? I love the thought of being held and caged by Lucifer’s larger frame. Brings me joy. Pls and thank?

Oof yeah so

Im not ever making MC something other than human in my smut fics. The thought of writing animal sexual anatomy (??? Is that even a word) is such a turn off and really pushes the AU rule that i have.

Sorry but can't do. However, the paws and claws event smut fic for lucifer exists and I have a handful of others as requests that i may or may not ever get to.

[maybe-your-left]

NO ONE ASKED FOR THIS BUT IM ON MY PERIOD OKAY.

———

The Supreme Leader finding out your pregnant aka how you tell Kylo he knocked you TF up.

- You spent all day in your bathroom, woken up with an upset stomach and severe nausea. Feeding yourself small bits of food to try and keep down.

- Discreetly bringing in medical droids, none of them finding you sick with anything. Until one of them brought up it being a womanly issue.

- Now you were sitting cross legged on the bed, four different pregnancy tests littered around you. Chewing the inside of your cheek in thought.

- You knew it was Kylos, you hadn’t been with anyone else in... years? Yes years. But never had you guys had this talk.

- The two of you barely spoke about marriage, and now this?

- You quickly got dressed, throwing on a flow lay black and gold shimmered gown. Your breasts on full display, leaving your hair down along with white makeup.

- The Sith guards told you he was meeting with the generals, and some visiting dignitaries. You had them escort you, stopping at the conference room door.

- The doors slid open, Hux halting his speech as you stepped inside. Everyone’s heads swiveled towards you, except for the man sitting at the head.

- You took a deep breath, walking up towards Kylo, voice strong, “Supreme Leader, if I could have a word.”

- No noise came from him, just his hand motioning you over to him. His arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you into his lap.

- “Proceed Hux.”

- Hux began droning on, the air still thick with tension. Rens arm tightened around you, his breathing uneven through his vocoder.

- You rocked your hips in his lap, earning a small grunt. “Supreme Leader,” you whispered again, “We need to talk.”

- Ren stilled your hips, ignoring your plea. You decided to change your tactic, facing him in your lap. Running your hands along his chest, “Supreme Leader-.”

- A fist slammed on the table, causing everyone to jump. Rens right hand was now piercing your waist, he growled through his mask, “Everyone get out. Now.”

- Once the two of you were alone, he grabbed you by the throat. Pinning your back to the table as he increased the pressure. “What makes you think you can come into a meeting, and demand to see me?”

- You shook your head, fingers clawing at his arm. Tears were now flowing down your cheeks, choking out your words, “Pl-ease K-y, I can-t bre-the, the baby!”

- Ren halted, letting go of your wind pipe. You gasped to air, sitting up and coughing up mucus. Openly sobbing at his violence.

- “The baby?”

- You nodded furiously, caging yourself in your arms as you wept more.

- A thunk came in front of you, followed by a pair of non-gloves hands grabbing you by the waist. Ren hoisted you off the table and held you in the air like you were a child.

- His eyes were wide, bottom lip trembling as he looked at you. Eyes darting between your face and your belly.

- Finally he took in a deep breath, collapsing your body against him. Crying into your belly, leaving your upper half to flop over his shoulder while he pressed himself into you.

- “Kylo,” cried, attempting to claw his head back. “Talk please.”

- He let go of you, staring into your eyes. Tears now flowing down his face, he choked on his words. “We’re having a baby?”

- “Yeah.”

- “I get to be a dad...” he set you on the ground. Falling to his knees in front of you, kissing your belly.

- You ran your fingers through his hair, pulling him away from smothering you. “Yes, you get to be a dad.”