#WHY IS BANSHEE SO ADORABLE????

[orchidyoonkook]

The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino  

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word. 

Intimate. That would be a better choice. 

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering. 

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony. 

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy. 

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts. 

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go. 

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between. 

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company. 

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight. 

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off. 

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges. 

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter. 

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot. 

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are. 

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back. 

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses. 

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up. 

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.” 

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty. 

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is. 

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck. 

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself. 

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.” 

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night. 

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung! 

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing. 

You just lost all your tips for the night. 

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it. 

Fuck. 

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet. 

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know. 

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’ 

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it. 

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass. 

No one serves him but you. 

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you. 

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year. 

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath. 

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.  

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,”  he responded. 

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased. 

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you. 

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it. 

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink. 

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.��

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself. 

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.” 

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.” 

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” 

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.” 

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation. 

No one calls the Devil by his first name. 

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to. 

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives. 

No one except you. 

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is. 

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that. 

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in. 

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night. 

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker… 

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up. 

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath. 

The King of Hell. 

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end. 

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon. 

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging. 

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him. 

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers. 

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully. 

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity. 

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive. 

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again. 

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well. 

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while. 

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was. 

And maybe he is. 

But not to you. 

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow. 

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him. 

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world. 

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you. 

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find. 

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos. 

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside. 

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor. 

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding. 

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system. 

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth. 

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing. 

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer. 

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.” 

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target. 

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own. 

Yoongi. 

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself. 

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real. 

And he looks like sin incarnate. 

Fitting. 

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you. 

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on. 

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved. 

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you. 

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises. 

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night. 

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse. 

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him. 

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”  

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate. 

“Yes.” 

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body. 

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.” 

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now. 

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening. 

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you. 

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant. 

Beautiful. 

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says. 

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you. 

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers. 

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you. 

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring. 

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear. 

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait— 

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse. 

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?” 

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly. 

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’. 

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him. 

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides. 

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it. 

You’ve decided. 

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power. 

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years. 

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back. 

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club. 

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait. 

And apparently neither does Yoongi. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate. 

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil. 

You trust Yoongi. 

“That's a good girl.” 

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft. 

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people? 

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on. 

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get. 

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight. 

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent. 

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea. 

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh. 

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off. 

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?” 

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs. 

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you. 

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.” 

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. 

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge. 

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look. 

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded. 

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter. 

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip. 

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue. 

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.” 

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?” 

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get. 

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it. 

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt. 

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines. 

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before. 

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip. 

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him. 

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it. 

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it. 

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.” 

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures. 

You’re the most powerful person here. 

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible. 

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know. 

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact. 

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets. 

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace. 

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them. 

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you. 

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else. 

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal. 

Perfect in every single way. 

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too. 

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back. 

Not yet. 

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling. 

Ever.  

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more. 

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence. 

There was only you. 

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows. 

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming. 

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance. 

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white. 

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need. 

It’s yours. 

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze. 

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented. 

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?” 

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?” 

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before. 

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking. 

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say. 

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.” 

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.” 

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him. 

You just know it. 

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless. 

You never expected anything like that. 

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years. 

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better. 

Because of you.  

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that. 

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly. 

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell. 

He was yours now. 

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.  

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

[tallulah477]

Soft Touches

⭒˚.⭒. 1K Follower Special .⭒.˚⭒

Pairing: Jake x Fem!Na'vi!Reader

Warnings: P in V, Fingering, Alien Genitalia, Soft Sex, Slight Tail Play, Creampie, Knotting, Finger sucking/Fingers in mouth, Slight Breeding Kink

Word Count: 4K

A/N: First fic in a while! Sorry its a little rusty.

A/N 2: For more about how I picture alien genitalia, see here.

Summary: You enjoy a nice lazy morning with your mate after a long night of celebration.

Translations:

Olo'eyktan - Clan Leader

Muntxate - Wife, female spouse

Ikran - Mountain banshee, dragon-like aerial predators

It’s mornings like these that remind you to take a breath.

The mornings when the village is mostly silent. When the normal hustle and bustle of early clan life is put on hold for just a moment, most others favoring the extra sleep and time alone with their loved ones after a long night of celebration before the reality of the day catches up to them and they need to re-enter the real world. 

The celebration was one of new beginnings. The new life born from the couple who had been trying for a long time - new parents who you had seen almost give up hope in ever conceiving after years of nothing finally receiving Eywa’s blessing in the form of a beautiful baby boy. The People cheered and prayed for their new clan member as Jake formally introduced him to the world, holding the baby high above his head and shouting his name with pride as if the baby were his own. 

You hope maybe one day soon, he’ll be able to do the same for your own child. 

As the ceremony turned into food and food turned into dance, the night passed by in a flurry of blood thumping music and happy memories. Your mate is a vision in his Olo’eyktan garb - muscular shoulders made even more broad by the layered feathers proudly displayed on him. His beautiful face somehow made even more beautiful framed by the ornate headpiece that lays distinguished on his forehead. The multitude of necklaces and armbands that adorn him, dressed with colorful beading, intricate knots, and bones. 

They’re symbols of respect. Symbols of honor. 

You can’t wait to tear them off his body when you get home.

And so you do - following every instinct you have as you rip the badges of honor from him in a fierce display that has your Olo’eyktan practically shaking in excitement and grinning that adorably goofy smile of his as he leans back against your shared woven mat, hands folded comfortably behind his head as he lets you ravage him to your heart’s delight. 

Your lovemaking is rough. Passionate. The perfect blend of ‘I love you, baby. Now fuck me like you don’t’. It’s the kind of intimacy that makes you feel alive. It’s exciting and fun, quick and intensely satisfying as you both greedily chase that pleasure that you know only the other can provide. 

“Fucked your brains out,” Jake jokes afterwards, and you resist the urge to smack him - too satisfied and gooey in the glow of the aftermath that you can’t even bring yourself to move to make the hit. 

You think he knows that, which is probably why he said it.

You don’t dream, and sometimes that’s better than even the best dreams. There’s nothing to keep your mind working, no other life to live in another world and nothing to bring your deepest fears or greatest dreams to life. It’s just silence. Pure rest and energy replenishment. You wake up feeling refreshed - calm and serene. 

Like the rest of the world is miles away and it’s just you and the love of your life together alone, away from all responsibility and the demands life brings.

Mornings like this are easy. 

Soft light just barely making it into the hut, just enough to light up everything around you, but not enough that you couldn’t easily fall back asleep if you wanted to. Jake’s arms are a warm blanket around you, keeping you close and safe and protected even in sleep. The consistent puffs of breath on your neck from where his face is pressed close to you is soothing in a way you can’t even begin to describe. You could lay here all day, wrapped up in the warmth of his body and the unassuming fuzziness of almost sleep blurring at the edges of your vision. 

There’s no worries right now, no concern or to-do’s or looming tasks that are faring for your attention. 

It’s just him and you. Even if for only right now. 

Your fingers subconsciously trace along Jake’s forearm, the tips dragging a lazy back and forth pattern along the smooth skin. He fits behind you perfectly, muscular body curling around yours like it was built to fit against yours. You think maybe it was. Eywa may not have been his maker, the body he is in now was once human-made. But despite not being his maker, she is his Mother - and you know just as well as any other Na’vi how the Great Mother can perform miracles. 

She made him for you somehow. Just for you.

Your fingers continue their featherlight touches on his arm and they’re more deliberate now as your tail curls around the back of Jake’s leg so the soft tuft of hair at the end can tickle along the back of his knee. The light touches are guaranteed to wake him up. He showers you in a strong gentleness, granting you the light and soft touches that you love so much exactly when you need them, but he prefers a firmer touch. The softer touches drive him insane after a while and he’ll often grab your hand and push it harder against his skin to starve off the sensation or even drag your nails across the spot to get rid of the itch. 

You’re a menace, purposefully teasing him with light touches just to see him react the way he does. Just because it's a soft and peaceful morning doesn’t mean you’ll show him reprieve. 

The tightness in your core says you want him, so he needs to wake up. Just the feel of his body pressing against yours and the rhythmic puffs of breath on the back of your neck is sending pleasant tingles down your spine. The warmth of his body heat turns into a different kind of warmth that swells in your stomach and settles between your thighs.

You can feel him start to stir behind you, the puffs of breath becoming harsher as his arm and leg twitch against your lovingly mean touches. Your body tenses in excitement when you feel the sharp teeth press against the nape of your neck and the low growl he lets out reverberates through your entire body.

“What have I said about the touching, baby?”

“Firm strokes,” You grin before adding on a smug, “Everywhere.”

Jake hums against you, teeth still a clear warning against the back of your neck and they dig in just a little harder at your cheeky answer. 

“That’s right,” He says against your skin. “So why is my mate being bad on this very nice morning?”

“Wanted you to wake up,” You breathe. 

Your tail flicks at the back of his knee again and you let out an excited laugh when he pulls his arm away from your tickling fingers to snatch your tail. He jerks it swiftly in reprimand, not hard enough to actually hurt but just enough for you to feel the sharp pull of it and the sensation shoots right down to your center.

“Wake up for what?” He asks, but you can hear the responding grin in his voice.

You arch your back, pressing your ass against his bare front just to drive the point home. His cock is still sheltered in its protective sheath, but the action is clear anyway. “You know for what,”

The move does its job and your Jake is significantly riled up in an instant. He presses his front harder against your back, rolling you slightly forward to better gain leverage against you. The muscular arm you’re using as a pillow shifts so that his hand can reach down and cup your breast, squeezing the soft flesh in his large hand. The other hand slides across your hip, the tip of your tail still caught in the loose ring of his thumb and pointer finger as he drags it with him between your thighs. 

He keeps it trapped there as his middle finger runs across your slick slit, sliding up and down the length of your pussy with the lightest of touches. The tuft of hair on your tail sticks together as Jake drags it with him and a part of you wants to yell at him, mortified at the idea of your own tail becoming dirtied by your own sticky mess. But the feeling of the soft hair sliding across your needy slit makes you even more desperate and the control that he shows he has over you as he uses your own hair tuft on your tail to help him tease you makes you whimper.

“Ma Jake,” You squirm. You tilt your hips trying to get him to touch you better - push a little harder, slide a finger inside, touch your clit, something. But he doesn’t budge. Just continues his teasing as he nips his sharp teeth at your ear.

“Hm, what’s wrong, babygirl?” He mocks. “I thought you liked soft touches.”

Since he moved, your hands had been clutching the wrist of the hand caressing your breast. Now, you pull one away from its resting place to grab the hand between your thighs trying to manipulate his fingers into moving to the places you want them to. The inside of your palm brushes against the sticky strands of hair as Jake makes it brush over your clit and your tail jerks in response as your body inadvertently tries to tug it away, but Jake keeps it hostage between his skilled fingers. The fine hairs leave silky lines of wetness against your palm. 

“Please,” You whine and your fingers press against his middle finger, forcing it to slip between your wet lips. “Be nice to your muntxate.”

“Yeah?” Jake grumbles. “After you were just so nice to me?”

A part of you wants him to continue to drag this out. You like the tease. The way the barely there touches are nowhere near enough to get you to where you want to be but the tortuous featherlight brush of fingers makes you wetter than direct and firm touches would. Jake knows how to play with you, knows how to work you up to near madness with barely even lifting a finger. He touches the right spots - gentle brushes against the length of your pussy, caressing along the sides and down the slit, dipping in enough just to be able to slide across your hole that clenches with need from every new ‘not touch’. Sometimes his fingers would nudge against your clit, just enough to make you jump as a shock of pleasure shoots into your belly at the place you most want him to touch finally getting some attention, even if for only one fleeting second. 

“I’m always nice to you,” You breathe. 

“Oh, yeah?” Jake laughs, knowing disbelief coloring the beautiful sound and you can’t help the cheeky grin that pulls at your lips in return. “You’re always nice to me, huh?

“Mhm,” You agree. You lean your head back so your cheek can rub against Jake’s. “The nicest and most perfect mate ever.”

“Hm,” Jake hums and your breathing hitches as when his fingers slide more purposefully towards your dripping hole. “Yeah, you’ve never been a pain in my ass for a single second, have you?”

Your tail lashes out behind you when Jake loosens his grip on it in favor of sinking his long fingers inside you. It smacks against Jake’s thigh a few times and distantly you hope that it leaves a wet spot there too as payback, but the thought is so removed from your brain right now that it hardly even registers at all. His fingers slide into you so perfectly, the size of two of them sinking into your cunt begins to stretch you out so well. Compared to the actual size of him, it's not enough to fully prepare you. But you can feel where his cock has come out to play behind you, already hard and wet from the slick of its protective sheath as it pokes at the curve of your ass. 

“You’ve just always been my good girl,”

His words are sweet, the urge to nod and agree that yes, yes you have always been his good girl is so strong as his fingers fill you up, but you know better than anyone how the edge of sarcasm in his words ring true. When you first met Jake, you had been hostile. Furious with your best friend when she had saved him in the forest and furious even more when she begged for your help to train him in the ways of The People when her father had instructed her to take on the task of babysitter. It makes you laugh now to think back on those months. Neytiri wasn’t nice by any means, but she had quickly developed a fond friendship with the dreamwalker despite her early aggression. And even though you hissed at him, smacked him instead of guiding him into place when learning to shoot a bow and arrow and use a knife, and called him every insult you knew straight to his face while fully taking advantage of the fact that he was still learning Na’vi - you had grown to be quite fond of him too.

The differences you had once held against him were now things to be cherished. The five fingers that once made you nervous, too associated with the demons that had come and killed people that you cared about and tried to destroy your home, were a symbol of his loyalty to you and The People. He chose you - chose to be with you and give his loyalty to you and Eywa and the rest of the clan over the species he was born as, and you take pride in seeing that fifth finger on his hand, playing with it lovingly between your own fingers, and knowing what it symbolizes to you. Made a human but created by the Great Mother: different, but still Na’vi. 

But you are a warrior - fierce and focused, courageous and determined. Maybe a little aggressive. Stubborn. So maybe you’re not always as nice as you could be. The fondness grown from spending the time of getting to know Jake and the unavoidable blessing of love that came after couldn’t have stopped the aspects of your personality and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you were always a patient, kind, and understanding bundle of joy. You argue and expect things, fierce in your opinions and beliefs just as fierce as you love. 

You would never have found a worthy match with someone else in the clan. No one else could have ever handled you the way Jake can. No one else would have ever loved you as much as Jake does. 

You’re a pain in his ass - on him from the start if he’s wrong about something, making a bad call or the wrong decision, and you push him to be better as a good mate should. Direct communication. No sugar-coating things. Jake can handle it and you hate it in the moment, but you’re grateful that you can say he returns the favor too. 

“My perfect mate,” Jake agrees and your tail shakes with excitement as he digs his fingers in deeper.

You’re so wet already, slick pooling between your thighs as you spread them more to give him a little more space for his hand. The hand on your breast clings to it, not letting go or loosening its grip for a second as he squeezes at your chest. His clever fingers form a cage around your nipple that pinches the hard bud between his third and fourth finger with each squeeze, and the sharp pang of pleasure that courses through your body from the stimulation drives you to grind down on the hand between your thighs even harder.

His fingers feel so good inside you, stretching you and thrusting as deep as they can go as you leak around them. He knows all your good spots, fingertips curling and rubbing against your slick walls as he torments the spots he can reach in his position and rakes the tips of his fangs on the back of your neck to make up for the ones he can’t. Your hand is still laying on top of his, moving with it as if it’s guiding its movements. Jake lets you keep it there. He knows you like to act like you’re in control sometimes. 

The thick head of his cock pokes at your ass, sliding against the curve of it and your hand finally leaves the top of his to reach behind you. Your hand curls around his length, stroking gently and feeling each textured bump and barb rub against your fingertips. His fingers are good, magical even. But even in the soft morning glow when things are quiet and you should be satisfied, it’s still not enough. 

“Ma Jake, please?”

He chuckles. “You’re so polite when you want something,” 

You grin. “Don’t make me be mean,”

Jake shifts his hips harder against your ass, somehow shoving his fingers deeper inside you as he rubs his cheek against yours, lips pressing just off to the side of your own in a quick kiss. “Yeah, wouldn’t want you to be mean, would we?”

The joking tone is there again. The humorous sarcasm. Jake likes you when you're sweet and pliant - it's a rarity that he likes to enjoy in the odd moments that it comes like this one. But he loves it when you're mean. 

He doesn’t let you respond, instead choosing to be nice and halting the sweet torment of his fingers in your cunt and replacing them with the blunt press of his cock at your entrance. Your body mourns the loss of his fingers when he pulls them from between your legs, but you do well to push the feeling down when he hooks his hand under your knee and bends your leg up, spreading you more to give him easier access to push his cock inside. 

Your eyes flutter shut in bliss as his length spears you open, stretching you and filling you up the way you know only he can. You can feel every delicious raised bump on his cock as he slides into you and you squeeze down on him, reveling in the way the texture scrapes against your slick walls. 

Sometimes you wonder what it would have been like to be like this with him in his human body. Wheelchair and paralyzing spinal injury aside - you still imagine him standing straight, as tall as he can be, and staring at you with that daring, cocky, fearless expression of his - smirking and ready to tame you just as he had tamed his ikran. 

He’d be so much smaller than you. Your hand easily encompassing the entire side of his head as you pulled him in for a kiss, and the agitation you might feel at having to wait even for the few seconds it takes for him to pull off his breathing mask. He’d be smaller down there too. The thought makes you giggle a little. It’s a shame really - because the idea of trying the human version of him, despite your pretenses, is very appealing. Smaller human Jake is still your Jake, no matter what body he is in.

How would it feel? There would be no barbs or added texture for stimulation, no extra slick other than a small amount of precum to make taking it any easier. No knot to lock you in and keep you close afterwards. 

How would it feel encased snugly inside your walls? It would be smooth, right? Save for maybe a vein here and there. He’s told you before that a human’s genitalia hangs outside the body, balls included. You think that’s rather interesting. Stupid - but interesting. A flawed design in a species that mostly considers itself perfect. But what would that feel like? You can picture what you think that would be like - Jake’s own swinging, unprotected, with each thrust. Would they slap against your ass as he fucks you? Could they hit your clit if you make him fuck you with you on all fours?

You’d never ask him. Your pride would never let you. But sometimes, you think about it and wonder. The desire to try something you know you never can and to do it with the only person you would ever want to try it with. 

The first retreat of him pulling back and then the slow and dragging slide of him pushing back into you makes sure to clear that lingering thought out of your mind. What could you possibly want that for when you have this right here? 

Perfect, passionate, intimate, and completely yours. 

His lips are at your ear, panting breath fanning at the curve of it as he murmurs to you about how tight you are and how good you feel around him. Like a perfect sleeve made just for my cock, he tells you, and groans when the words make you clench around him like a vice. 

Jake’s hand lets go of your knee to reach around your front again, fingers finding the sensitive bud between your thighs. Your clit throbs under his touch and there��s people around you in the nearby huts - families who can definitely hear you if you get too loud. And even though sex is not taboo among the Na’vi like you’ve learned it is among many humans, it's still early on a morning post celebration and people are sleeping. You don’t think Weim, Tsuakir, and their young daughter, Iski, would appreciate getting woken up by the pleasured mewling cries of their Olo’eyktan’s mate before it’s time for them to rise. 

You get out one loud moan before Jake is pulling his hand from your breast and shoving his fingers in your mouth. 

“Shhh, babygirl,” Jake whispers. “Can’t keep you all to myself if you wake up the whole damn village.”

A part of you wants to bite at the fingers in your mouth, the urge to rebel in any way you can against Jake’s slight increase in control over you, but they work too well - long digits pressing into the sides of your cheek and against your tongue just enough to keep you quiet. His other hand is drawing swirls around your clit, using the combined wetness of both of your slicks to make it nice and slippery.  

The knot on the base of his cock is swelling, pushing and pulling at the rim of your entrance with each rhythmic rock of his hips, and you suck eagerly at Jake’s fingers in your mouth as your body molds to each stretch and give. Jake’s voice is in your ear, gravely and deep as he groans about how he’s going to tie you to him, keep you locked on his cock and fill you up until your belly swells. 

“Maybe next time it will be us up there introducing our kid to the clan,” He grunts, nipping your ear with his sharp teeth. You moan, eyes fluttering as his thrusts speed up, the wet sounds of skin on skin and his voice filling your ear is all you can hear in the small hut. “Would you like that, baby?”

The swollen knot catches on your rim, pushing inside with a pointed snap of Jake’s hips, and you gasp when it slips inside you, stretching you to what you always feel are your limits but your body welcomes him willingly. The shock of his knot locking inside you and the insistent circles on your clit trigger your orgasm, and you cum to the warmth of Jake’s own release painting your insides as you clench around him, pleasure crashing through your body and leaving you feeling all the more fuzzy and weightless in the soft morning glow filling the hut than how you woke. 

Jake’s arms cuddle around you, his head laying on top of yours as you both bask in the afterglow. The village is starting to come back to life around you, sounds of children playing and the usual hustle and bustle of clan life making its way through the entrance of your home. Soon, you’ll have to leave the safety and closeness of Jake’s loving hold.

But not right now - you still have some time left. 

Taglist: @eywaite @lyannalothbrok @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @beautiful-brown-skin-05 @minnory @localjasmine @skywonder @luvv4j4ybe11 @vampirefilmlover @aria-tempest @pocky444 @xylianasblog @anemonelovesfiction @sbrn0905 @cuddle-stuff @pandoraslxna

**Comment here to be added to/removed from my taglist!

[corrodedbisexual]

It's just pixels

Steddie | T | ~5.1k | AO3 link

Dumping this incredibly self-indulgent thing as my free space entry for @steddie-week, Day 7. (What a week this was! 🥰)

Featuring: Fluff and Humor, AU - Modern Setting/Video Games/Twitch Streamers/Online Dating, Streamer Steve Harrington, Gaming, Online Romance, Pranks, Banter, Flirting, Chatting & Messaging, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Little Shit, Getting Together, Time Skip, Open Ending, POV Eddie Munson

Famous horror game reviewer Eddie Munson lurks incognito on Twitch out of boredom and comes across BabysitterSupreme's livestream. The guy's playing the new zombie shooter, and he's absolutely terrible at it. His aim is disastrous, his reflexes even worse. He died four times over the span of fifteen minutes, on goddamn Easy mode, and wasted half of his bullets on a measly crawler that’s easily taken out with a machete. And yet… Eddie keeps watching. Because the guy is just so damn cute.

Eddie’s never understood the appeal of gaming livestreams.

Review videos, like the ones he regularly makes, are short, on-point, highlight the best and worst aspects of the game, and help players make a decision whether the game would be worth their money or not. But livestreams?

Like, okay, it kind of makes sense when celebrities do it; their fans would probably watch them read a goddamn phone book. Or people actually involved in the production, they can at least offer some cool commentary on what’s going on, how they designed that particular level and stuff. But who on Earth wastes hours of their life watching— not even speedrun record breakers, not tournaments, but Just Some Guy (Gal) casually playing a game? And not even talking about the game itself half the time but about their cat, or their annoying co-worker, or a goddamn sinus infection they had last week, or— ugh, gag him with a spoon. Why is this a thing? Why do they have millions of viewers and subscribers? What’s the point when instead, you could just spend that time… actually playing?

Eddie would never make his opinions public, obviously, he prefers being civil, ‘cos a bunch of the streamers are rather influential people in the industry and he needs to maintain good working connections. Which is the only reason he actually has a Twitch account.

So… yeah. There’s definitely a rational explanation why Eddie’s spent the past half hour watching goddamn BabysitterSupreme, a streamer with a mere 87 subscribers, playing last year’s hotshot zombie shooter.

He was bored, alright? His computer was taking ages to update, and he found nothing noteworthy on YouTube, so his thumb just automatically went to the next app in the row. And he’s not even sure how this stream ended up on his feed, or why he clicked it in the first place, but fact of the matter is… it’s been 30 minutes, and Eddie’s still here.

The guy’s absolutely terrible at this game. He died four times over the span of fifteen minutes, on goddamn Easy mode, judging by amount of health the zombies ate away before he respawned at save point. He wasted half of his bullets on a measly crawler that’s easily taken out with a machete.

And yet… Eddie’s still watching. And only partly because the whole thing has a ‘train wreck you can’t look away from’ vibes.

He’s cute. He’s really cute, okay? And in the most endearing way, because despite having an objectively handsome face, it’s like he’s not even trying. He seems to genuinely not give a fuck about getting views, there’s no proper lighting setup or an obligatory ‘look I’m such a cool gamer’ background of collectibles behind him; the camera is low-res, like an inbuilt laptop one. The guy looks like he’s just genuinely having fun, despite having disastrous aim and even worse reflexes.

He shrieks like a banshee at every little jumpscare and then laughs at his own overreaction, scrunching up his nose in the most adorable manner.

He’s chewing on a bunch of salty sticks as he plays, occasionally brushing crumbs off his light blue hoodie, and leaving one sticking out of his mouth, half-eaten, when there’s suddenly an intense moment he has to focus on.

He’s got little specks of moles on his cheeks and down his neck. Eddie wonders if there’s more.    

Steve. His name’s Steve.

Read on AO3 | Divider credit

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

His Star

Summary: After the Monarchy, the Emperor takes Lorgar's wife as punishment. Lorgar is soon reunited with his love, but learns that his daughter will remain on Terra.

Lorgar/fem!Reader, Emperor and Lorgar's daughter (OC, platonic)

Warnings: angst, kidnapping

Word count: 753

Song: Siouxsie And The Banshees - Cities In Dust

This fic was born because of this beautiful post.

She was beautiful. Like the morning dawn or a starry night. A bright soul who came into this cruel world. She could lead the masses, inspire billions of people. But Lorgar wanted only one thing. Protect her with his own life.

He didn't see his daughter. The news of her birth came from the Imperial Palace along with other unimportant ones. As if she were an insignificant speck of dust. But the daughter of a primarch, his daughter was priceless. Happiness that was born because of the pure and immaculate love of two souls.

Lorgar could only follow the Emperor's orders in the hope of seeing you and his daughter. Hug and hold the tiny body to his hearts. Press his lips to yours. Feel the serene love you showed him.

The Primarch of the Word Bearers was never a warrior. Never been a commander. He was a preacher, priest, shepherd. He never hid it, openly carrying his true and blessed faith in the God Emperor... but in the end, apparently not so true.

His sons, himself, continued to search for answers to questions. Find their way. Their faith. The Emperor refused their worship, destroyed the perfect city, took you, took the unborn child. Lorgar could not hate his father, but it was difficult to extinguish the black flame of resentment and misunderstanding.

At least until the day you were returned.

Crying and tired. You were not tortured, you were not offended. Physically and mentally you were fine. But there was a huge void in your heart that could not be filled. Even Lorgar was unable to help you, because he, being a primarch, almost fell himself.

They returned you alone.

Lorgar hoped that the Emperor simply decided to gradually return his favor to his son. He hoped that after some time, when he had conquered even more systems, the Father would return his daughter. But he was wrong. You dashed all his hopes.

“He loves her, he adores her,” you burst into tears at Lorgar’s shoulder. - “I almost d-didn’t see her. He is with her all the time. Doesn't let go of himself. H-he, he sang to her. He sang to her, Lorgar! Songs in ancient languages. He acted as if she were his daughter and not his granddaughter. He gave her a name!”

It would be better if the Emperor burned Khur to the ground. It would be better if he destroyed every city to the dust that Lorgar built. The primarch is ashamed of such thoughts; mortals are not to blame for anything. But why, why should his daughter be torn away from her parents and live with a tyrant?

A tyrant... that's what the Emperor was. False God. If the primarch had doubts before, he is now firmly convinced of it. The son loved the Father too much, although he did not deserve such worship. He did not deserve the devotion of the primarchs. Didn't deserve the love of a little girl.

You spend days and nights in bed. When you don't sleep, you cry. Lorgar is not angry, no. He is delighted. The connection between mother and daughter, passing through years and centuries. You can't find a place for yourself until you see your child. Which means Lorgar must bind you together. Bring back your beloved child.

The primarch will not hear her first word, will not see her first steps. He will not be the main person in her life. Perhaps they will meet when she is an adult. He will never be her father in the full sense of the word. But this knowledge does not stop Lorgar.

He will still meet her. He will take her hand and lead her to a new world free from the power of the Emperor, who separated her from her real family. He would show her the True God that he had yet to find. His daughter will be a guiding star, illuminating the path through a dark galaxy. Until he finds a way to get back to her.

Lorgar has never seen her, but he knows that she is beautiful. Like the golden sand in Colchis, a light breeze or the murmur of water. She is far away in captivity of the Golden Palace, but even so the primarch feels her. She shines brighter than anyone in the world. Without realizing it, she is waiting for her real father to return his daughter. He will protect her. At the cost of his own life.

And the whole world.

[reticent-writer]

Hello hello! Your writing has dragged me back into Demon Slayer(/vpos) and I got an idea, if you’re up for it! (This might be rambley so bare with me please)

What about (character(s) of your choice) with a music lover s/o or friend who gets turned into a siren-like demon? Physically speaking, maybe their skin becomes scales and they grow some fins here and there. And while they’re still mentally present enough to be themselves rather than a mindless cryptid, perhaps they become spacey, a bit more jumpy, and find a lot of solace near water/with music. How would your characters of choice handle these changes? Especially if s/o refuses to drink blood(or at least sources it like Tamayo does) and wants to fight by their side? (Maybe their Blood Art has something to do with their voice, like a Siren’s luring voice or a Banshee scream!)

I hope that’s not too much detail, feel free to leave out/add anything and have a wonderful day/night! Thank you!!

◡̈⋆ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(●’◡’●)ﾉ thank you for requesting, don't worry I love a lot of details.

sorry for the wait

I viewed most of these as platonic but it can go either way

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

If there is anything that you need Tanjiro gotchu. If you do drink blood he'll offer his if you don't that's even better. Out of everyone here he notices the changes in your personality the most. He notices your likes and dislikes and changes what he does to accommodate you.

"Y/n? you alright?" Tanjiro taps your shoulder to which you jump and turn around. Seeing that it was just him and nezuko you smile.

"Yeah why wouldn't I be?"

"We're on a mission and you were spacing out again." He sweatdropped as you took in your surroundings. It was the middle of the night, in a forest.

"Oh I'm sorry." You flush, "Did you kill the demon. I'm so sorry-"

"No no it's fine... it's just that I kinda broke my leg and I'm bleeding internally."

"OH MY GOD."

-------

One minute you're both talking then the next Muichirou forgets what you were talking about and you are spacing out. When he gets his memories back the first thing he remembers about you is your voice. You never tried to eat him so why should he care if you are a demon or not.

After the battle in the swordsman village, Muichirou was transported to the butterfly mansion.

"MUI-"

"Y/n don't shout this is an infirmary." Aoi scolded and you replied with a meek sorry.

the moment the two of you made eye contact, his eyes lit up. His best friend was waiting for him and he could clearly remember everything about anything.

You waited for Aoi to finish setting Muichirou in a room before you sat at his side and talked to him.

"Y/n can you sing the song that you're always humming."

-------

Rengoku believes that if nezuko can be a non-human-eating demon then there is a chance for you to be one too. Once he knows you're harmless he brings you around senjuro.

You were a former demon slayer and or close friend(or S/o) to the flame hashira, Your families were close.

"Senjuro you remember Y/n, don't you?"

"Oh no did something happen to them."

"Well not exactly she um-" cue you (who was standing in the shadows of the Rengoku estate) stepping out into the sunlight and getting burnt.

You gave Senjuro a heart attack when he saw you.

-------

Genya doesn't know how to react. It takes him days to figure out how to deal with literally everything. Man is walking on eggshells around you.

He literally just stares at you.

"Um genya... your creeping me out."

In the blink of an eye he snaps out of it and his face goes red.

-------

mitsuri finds you absolutely adorable, she's glad that you didn't turn into a full demon. Obanai on the other hand is very skeptical.

"Obanai look it Y/n." Mitsuri enthusiastically presented you to the less-than-happy man.

"Another demon seriously."

"Oh Obanai don't be so

-------

Tamao takes an interest in your changes. You being around is like a breathe of fresh air for her and Yushiro. Although Yushiro would never admit it.

"How are you feeling today Y/n." Tamao said as she offered you a cup of blood.

"I'm feeling fine thanks for asking.

"If you feel so fine would you mind getting back to work." Yushio butted in.

"Ah poor Yushiro having to cover for me for less than 2 days while I was out."

"Oh please you were only dying for a day you stayed down to be dramatic."

"Wow I-"

"Can both of you not argue please."

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

Merry Christmas to everyone. I hope this holiday season has been full of joy.

This is my FINAL post of 2023.

It has been a year of many surprises and has now ended.

I'm still accepting requests but I won't post until the New year because there is so much going on.

[metalheads-trash-bin]

THIS WILL BE THE LAST TROLLS POST I EVER MAKE.

First off, thank you to those of you that continued to show all the work I make love. Thank you for caring for my work other than Trolls.

Now, onto this post and my final statements about this fandom.

I joined the fandom late, I’d always technically been a part of it but never interacted until about a year or so ago through this site. Immediately I got interaction and a good amount of followers, a lot of people enjoying my work and wanting more.

That “wanting more” slowly became harassment as I got messages every day from a select few people commanding me to continue writing or making fanart. This slowly started to seep into me but was NOT the nail in the coffin. Even as i got handfuls of asks commanding more.

The nail was how the fandom handles abuse and abusers. I am a punk person, to those of you that know my Tiktok i post a LOT of punk content and have gained so much interaction. I am well known in a lot of communities and am even trying to advocate for the people that cant. It is BASE LINE respect to “always believe the victim”. Base line. Yet as soon as a very POPULAR and HIGHLY FOLLOWED creator who is being accused of abuse posts content back showing very explicit conversations and mental breakdowns to embarrass you into silence everyone FLOCKS to them. I had so many friends in this fandom, and as soon as i was publicly HUMILIATED by him for speaking out, i was being blocked. Some of the people i used to make fanart for and support are now people i look at with fear and disgust. This includes my fans, people who BETRAYED me and did not stand with me. Didnt QUESTION why all of a sudden I deleted everything?

Let me lay things out for you all, FINALLY. Since im fucking PISSED. He BLACKMAILED ME INTO SILENCE. He got his boyfriend to THREATEN ME. And when all was said and done as i was choking on my sobs? He kept the post UP. His post with THOUSANDS of views and comments saying disgusting things about me. Because no one gave a FUCK about the fact that me and my friend both came out about horrors when it came to him and his new boyfriend.

I am so disgusted and disappointed as to how my fans reacted to this all, i had even gotten a dm PRAISING ME for going back into silence. That broke my fucking heart.

Why am i bringing this up now? Because a multitude of his art for Fliff had had messages for me. Which NO ONE but me and my fiance knew about. Dictator barb? Message. Floyd saying insults to riff? Message. Are you all that illiterate to context of someones character? Did the INCEST HE PUT ON HIS TWITTER NOT SAY ANYTHING??? JD and his BROTHER having a threesome, completely naked said NOTHING? And when someone pointed it out he said he didnt give a shit.

No one gave a FUCK. I have so much dirt on one of his friends i used to ADORE that i will never utter even though he also fucking abandoned me because he knew him longer and believed i was the wailing banshee.

So overall, trolls fandom, get your FUCKING ACT STRAIGHT. About victims. And about context.

I am a HUMAN BEING. My callout was not something to laugh at and silence just because you like the PORN he draws.

He’s once again posting after i was able to get him to fuck off from this fandom for almost a year. The relief i felt for that year was bliss. And now? I can barely fucking breathe. Once again i feel trapped.

So FUCK YOU ALL.

Have a fucking ANGRY and HURT tw of self harm under this sentence.

Good riddance, Trolls fandom. This is the last i will utter a word about the fandom or my experience. I am so disappointed.

[nanaminokanojo]

ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | part 27

-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur

CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 27 next>>

A/N: Contains prose with panels in between. 8th panel is a video.

Sukuna found it difficult to concentrate on the plot of the movie playing on the screen when Uraume's words to him rang clear in his head instead. He didn't have any intention to hurt you, and after the accident that brought him to you, he didn't think he had the heart to inflict any kind of pain on you. It was unthinkable.

Rather than that, he wanted to do the complete opposite and keep you away from harm as much as he could. He had never met anyone apart from Uraume whom he wanted to be a human shield for, and you were gradually changing that for him. He hasn't seen the full extent of what lies behind your smiles, but he only wanted to see genuine mirth whenever he looks at you. And if he can be the reason why you're always happy, he will make it so you never feel otherwise.

He glanced at you and found you sleeping, your head leaning on his shoulder for support halfway through the film. You looked so peaceful when you sleep. You didn't belong in the world he lived in when you looked like a higher being altogether even in your unconscious state. And yet you did. Sukuna was glad.

In an attempt to make you more comfortable, he placed an arm over your shoulder, his hand holding onto the side of your head to keep you from falling. But then, he noticed everyone looking at him with sly grins on their faces.

"What?" he snapped, causing them all to look away except for Uraume who smirked at him as if he knew something everyone else didn't.

Sukuna ignored that and fixed his eyes on the TV, glancing at you from time to time to make sure your injured arm was in the right position. He ended up not watching the rest of the movie as he, too, dozed off, reveling in the feel of your silky hair between his fingers.

"Dude, wake up," he heard Yu's hushed tones. "Movie's over."

Sukuna blinked, adjusting to the sudden brightness of the room, noticing how everyone else was getting ready to leave. Taking out his phone, he checked the time, noting that it was already half-past midnight.

"Slept alright?" the vexing male asked him, making him frown when he realized where Yu's eyes were repeatedly glancing.

You were still asleep, snuggled to his side, your form seemingly infinitely smaller than his stature. Just then, your eyes opened and you blinked slowly. The sight was so adorable that he broke into a grin.

"Hey," he greeted you like a lover would, startled when Satoru suddenly squealed like a banshee.

You also straightened up, looking for the source of the sound, breaking the spell that seemed to have engulfed the room with the two of you staring at each other.

Sukuna suddenly felt cold when you distanced yourself from him, his arm tingling at the loss of contact between the two of you. But he concealed that by saying, "Ready to go home?"

"Sure."

TAG LIST: @catobsessedlady @kyo-kyo1 @junehasnotbeenfound @lavender-hvze @guacam011y @eyered @hellomeow12 @its-princessmara @light-yagami-l @domainofmarie @mythoscalliope @noble-17 @pheonix-eclipses @weebbuscuit @sukunasbudussy @lu-c1na @vinnieswife @the-haitani-baton @iaminyourfloors @needtoloveoutloud @r-ryuko09 @somestardeww @swirlingcurses @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @bronze-metal @bronze-metal @kidd3ath

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240526]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[kitdkat]

Stages of a Buddie Shipper:

Season 1: oh cool a firefighter show with interesting plots and calls.

Season 2: cool a new guy and Buck is jealous and why is the song whatta man playing right now. I kinda wanna ship them.

Season 3: They have an adorable kid together!!!!!!!

Season 4: Oh no Eddie got shot and Buck is so traumatized. Oh he is taking care of Chris.

Season 5: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU BABY TRAPPED HIM AFTER THE SNIPER INCIDENT?!!!!!

Season 6: COUCH THEORY!!!!!!!!!!!! BUCK GETS STRUCK BY LIGHTNING, CHRISTOPHER IS TOTALLY HIS SON.

Season 7: *Screams like a banshee*

[aphrodisiac-siren]

Home~ Neteyam x Metkayina!reader

Summary: Leaving behind everything he knew was hard for Neteyam and then adapting to the ways of the new clan was even harder. He'd push himself, overwork and exhaust himself even, to live upto his family's expectations; never really giving his own wants a second thought. That's why Y/N was the prefect companion for him, someone who kept things in his life balanced, who made sure to let him know that what he wanted was just as important, perhaps even more so, than what everyone else wanted of him.

//slow burn, Neteyam just denying his own feelings//

masterlist, Part 5

Part 4

🫧

It had been a good amount of time since eclipse.

The fishermen and hunters had retired for the day and the homemakers had only just put their food above the fires to prepare a nice warm dinner. The younger children were done with their lessons and were headed home, eagerly looking forward to a delicious meal followed by some much needed sleep.

But then they saw the warriors hurriedly mount their banshees and head out with panicked urgency. Not a moment later and Tonowari’s own children joined them to patrol the waters around the reef. The sudden and rare search party caused an eruption of speculative whispers amidst the villagers, each one trying their best to decipher what was going on.

Betwixt all the chaos, Y/N exhaled a sigh of relief when she spotted Lo'ak swimming toward her, calling out her name in response to her calling out his.

“I’m here Y/N” he waived his arm at her as she closed the distance between them whilst siting atop her ilu.

“I got you” she held out her arm for him to take, pulling the heavier boy to sit behind her before she turned around, yelling out to the other Na’vi who were just as eagerly looking for him “I’ve found him, he’s okay!”

A stream of yips and relieved sighs were passed around as everyone headed back, thankful to Ewya that the kid was returned to them unharmed.

“I’m sorry about my brother” Y/N immediately said once Lo’ak was well seated behind her, legs dangling lazily in the water as they followed the other people back to the village.

“I’m sorry about mine too” Lo’ak responded, referring to the exchange his brother had with her earlier that day “he’s not usually like this”

“Don’t worry about-“

“No really,” he continued nonetheless, still not done with his apology on behalf of his brother. Lo’ak never imagined in all his years that he’d one day find himself apologising for how his perfect older brother acted “he was rude and what he said, it-it was not okay. I’m sure he didn’t mean any of it. Don’t take it to heart and hold anything against him, or at least against me because of it”

Y/N held back a giggle. As sweet as it was that he was trying to be an adult and say sorry for the comments Neteyam made, it was almost adorable how he couldn’t conceal his child-like desire for her to keep her animosity toward his brother on one side and away from him. In simpler words, he was trying to get her to continue being friends with him.

“I’m not mad anymore Lo’ak” she assured the boy with a genuine smile, patting his knee in a friendly way “not at Neteyam, and definitely not at you”

“Friends again?” He sheepishly asked and Y/N found it almost too difficult not to turn around and adoringly pinch his cheeks with an ‘aww’ but she kept her cool. Just like Aonung, she could tell that Lo’ak definitely did not like to be fawned over.

“Friends again” she warmly told the boy before clicked her tongue at the ilu, prompting him to stop.

Both her father and mother awaited them, standing at the front of the crowed gathered to have a look at the lost and found forest boy.

Y/N’s eyes found Aonung’s and she could tell he was relieved that Lo’ak was fine. She knew he’d messed up by doing something as stupid as going beyond the reef by himself and then made things even worse by taking the new boy out there too and leaving him.

As if they shared some sibling-telepathic connection, she could also sense how horrible he felt. It was true that he’d managed to publicly embarrass himself, knowing well that the gossip regarding how the chie’s son caused such mayhem would last for a good amount of time before it was forgotten; but what really stuck out in that moment was the extremely evident remorse in his eyes.

Aonung was born into an almost royal-like environment, being treated like an image of utmost importance from a very young age. He was well know and well respected in his clan and he liked the power and authority he held. But after days and days of bullying the Sullys, it would seem like he all of a sudden didn’t like this higher rank. His first major screw up drew all this attention to him, the negative kind. He was well aware that he’d used his prestigious title of being the next Olo'eyktan in the most irresponsible way, by throwing his weight around and this time he’d feared it cost Lo’ak his life. Aonung would admit, he didn’t like the new kids but that certainly didn’t mean he wanted them to die, much less because of him.

“He’s fine, yeah?” He whispered to his sister once she’d stood next to him, standing his ground even when he saw Lo’ak angrily advancing toward him with balled fists. This time if he’d get punched, he wouldn’t have the nerve to hit him back.

But Jake saved him from further humiliation, pulling his son toward him to inspect him for any injuries and then announced that he was alright, giving Aonung another wave of relief.

“Excuse me, sorry I just- Hi”

Neteyam pushed past the others, swimming through the crowd to get a look at his brother. He only stopped when his eyes landed on Lo’ak, who was currently being scolded by his mother. He’d only realised until a few moments later that he halted right next to where Y/N was standing.

“Found him” the girl simply said, looking up at Neteyam. She saw him visibly relax his shoulders and slow his breathing, also at relief just like the rest of them.

“Yes, I can see” he smiled, nudging her arm gently with his “thank-you”

He wanted all of his attention to be focused on his brother, considering how tensed he was during the search but now that he’d seen him in person, fully assured that he was fine, his mind only kept wandering to the Na’vi girl beside him.

She thinks I’m pretty?

Neteyam didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, especially not to one as major as her finding him attractive, even though he was fully aware that he wasn’t so bad to look at. He was never really the type to seek any validation regarding his looks from girls, nor was he the type to overthink it if any girl did flirt with him. Though calling Y/N’s previously mentioned endearment ‘flirting’ would be a stretch.

She couldn’t have been, obviously not.

She was mad at him, furious even just hours ago. He highly doubted that a simple ride on his ikran would all of a sudden magically make everything okay. Yes, she was no longer upset but the wound was fresh and things wouldn’t go back to normal overnight. Which is why it just sounded absurd that she would indirectly attempt to tell him that she was into him.

Which then led to another foreign thought that crossed his mind. If she didn’t particularly mean to tell him that he’s pretty, he at the very least hoped that she thought of him as such. He felt like a little boy, hoping to impress his dad with how efficiently he caught fish.

It’s not a crush, he thought to himself. There was absolutely no way that Neteyam would ever succumb to such silly things. Getting giddy after tender touches, heart skipping beats, anxious around the other person- it sounded more like a health hazard rather than something cute.

So then why did he all of a sudden care if she found him pretty?

His thoughts began to fade away just like how the crowd did after being dismissed, no longer too keen on sticking around anyway now that Lo’ak was found. And he too, just like them, didn’t feel the need to stay there any longer.

He weaved through the crowed, eyes never losing sight of Y/N as he patiently made his way toward her. Their previous time together had been cut short and now that everything was okay, he wanted to continue with their walk around the beach.

His plan to do so was immediately soiled when he heard his father’s strict voice call out his name. Ever-obedient as he was, he immediately stopped in his tracks, wincing softly in annoyance but headed toward his dad nevertheless.

“Where were you?” Jake scolded him in a hushed tone but his displeasure was evident “what happened to ‘keep an eye on your brother’ hm?”

“I’m sorry sir” Neteyam pressed his lips into a thin line. If there was something the boy hated more than failure, it was disappointing his parents. He’d grown up around the desire to seek praise and approval from his parents, pushing himself to be without flaw at everything just so that his parents would be proud.

He looked around, discreetly searching for Y/N once again but he’d lost her in the crowd. Neteyam was well aware he was on most occasions referred to as the warm, friendly person in the family but he too, just like most males had a slight ego. He wasn’t going to go after Y/N just to talk; he wasn’t smitten with her to do that. So instead he just silently followed his family back to their pod, feet dragging through the cool and course sand.

It was awkwardly silent at first, everyone just quietly doing their own thing. Lo’ak, out of everyone, was sat by himself in the farthest corner of the room. He’d already done enough that day, he did not want to add to the list by ruining dinner.

“Um, hello” a familiar voice meekly greeted from the doorway “I just came to return this”

Everyone turned toward the source of the sound, eyes landing on Y/N as she stood awkwardly at the entrance, holding a bow and a few arrows. It was evident that she too could feel the tension in the room, judging by how she awkwardly kept switching her weight from one leg to the other.

“Hey” Lo’ak was the first one to reach her, helping her with the things she was struggling to carry without dropping them “Is that.. my bow?”

“Uh yea” she nervously chuckled, feeling as though the boy did not appreciate her having it in her possession “I was using earlier to practice, sorry-“

“Nah nah don’t worry’bout it” Lo’ak gave her a toothy grin “you can borrow it anytime you want”

“Maybe you can make one for her” Neytiri joined the conversation as she cut up some dried meat to add to the dish she was making “I’m teaching her how to shoot arrows, she’ll need a bow of her own for hunts”

Lo’ak nodded in agreement.

“Must’ve been a long day today huh” Jake smiled at the younger girl, referring to practically everything that took place from the fight his son’s got into with her brother and her training with Neytiri to Lo’ak getting lost and then found after hours of searching “stay for dinner”

“Oh no no, It’s alright” Y/N politely tried to decline, still standing by the door “thank you though-“

“Nah don’t be shy, it’s okay come on in” Jake wasn’t really taking no for an answer, trying in his own way to amend things not really knowing that his son had already done it by charming her with his ikran.

“My mom cooks really yummy food” Tuk tried to lure her in too, her comment putting a smile on their stoic mother’s face.

“Okay then” Y/N smiled, walking in and sitting in between Tuk and Lo’ak, right across Neteyam- who couldn’t tell why he was really hoping she would agree to stay and eat with them. The short fleeting feeling of something fluttering in his chest was unexplainable when she sat down across from him, her pretty eyes locking with his for a moment or two before she got engrossed in a conversation with Kiri.

Dinner with the Sullys was a lot more lively in comparison to her own family. They joked around, told eachother about their day and laughed boisterously, something that her mother would scoff at if done at their own dinner circle.

Neteyam, for most of the dinner, only observed Y/N. she seemed to get along with his family rather well. She could keep up with Tuk’s endless chattering, make easy conversation with his moody sister Kiri, patiently listen to his younger brother’s exaggerated stories, laugh at his father’s broken humour and make his stone cold mother smile. He could tell that she liked them just as much as they liked her and for the sake of his family, he would do better at being a good friend to her.

Not because he just wanted her to like him, no.

Once dinner was done with, Y/N took her leave, politely letting them know that it was too late for her to wait any longer. Jake asked for his older son to walk her home, despite the protests from Y/N.

“Your family is really sweet” she told him on their walk back, idly kicking her heels at the sand “I don’t remember the last time I actually had this much fun at dinner”

“Ah you’re too kind” he rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of how to respond to such praise.

“No really, dinner with my family feels like a war meeting. Minimal conversation and no laughing” she rolled her eyes.

“You’d love our bonfires then” he begun with a smile, thinking fondly about his home “at the end of the day, almost the entire Omatikaya clan gathered around the large fire for a meal. There’d be music, people exchanging stories. It was like one big family”

Y/N listened to him talk about the forest, a sad smile etching its way to her face. It was a bit heartbreaking, hearing him talk about his home with such eagerness as his face lit up just thinking about his past life that he had to give up and leave behind.

“You miss the forest a lot, don’t you?” She asked, still looking up at him with the same expression as before. Neteyam only chuckled, running his fingers through his braids as he nodded a ‘yes’

“A lot” he grinned, masking his feelings like how he always did “but I like it here, it’s-“

“It’s okay to be sad you know” she cut him off, seeing right through his facade. She knew what it was like, having to deal with the pressure of being the golden child in the family. It was almost draining sometimes to live up to the standards set, often resulting in no space nor time to deal with your own emotions “I can tell you’d rather be at the forest than out here in the reef”

“It’ll take some getting used to” the boy shrugged, still refusing to fully allow himself to wallow in his longing to return back to his clan “I loved the forest but I’m willing to give this place a chance”

“Hm” she simply hummed, proceeding to think of something to say that might lighten the mood “maybe you can show me around your village when you go back”

“If I go back” Neteyam chuckled, reminding her of the harsh reality that there wasn’t much of a chance of them returning.

“When you go back, maybe you can take me to this bonfire you told me about” she emphasised on the certainty that they would all see their precious forest soon, attempting to give him a sense of hope.

“Okay Y/N” he gave up, agreeing to whatever it was she was saying with an amused laugh “I’ll take you wherever you’d want to go, maybe even teach you to ride a direhorse”

“Really?” She almost yelled, causing Neteyam’s ears and tail to shoot up with surprise. She immediately composed herself, blushing at her own over-excited reaction “you mean it?”

“Y-yea” he adoringly gazed at her, lopsided smirk dancing on his lips. She was a curious little thing, very similar to his brother except for the whole ‘doing things without thinking’ bit.

“This is me” she stopped when they were a few feet away from a grand-looking pod that he could only assume was her place of residence “thanks for walking me home, a-and for earlier”

Neteyam only responded with a smile, waiting patiently until she’d walked inside before he turned around to head to his own little abode.

——

“I’m telling you guys, it was a tulkun”

Lo’ak was surrounded by his siblings, Aonung, Tsireya, Rotxo and Y/N; all of them immersed in Lo’ak’s story in which he claimed to have been rescued by a lone tulkun.

Y/N was firstly surprised to see her brother actually being nice to the Sullys, especially Lo’ak. She was present of course when Lo’ak shouldered the blame for what had happened at three brothers rocks, but she didn’t really think Aonung would be this touched by the gesture.

Clearly, she was wrong but she didn’t mind it in this case. It was a nice change honestly to see them all getting along.

“No tulkun is ever alone” Aonung told him, still finding it a bit hard to believe.

“This one was” Lo’ak was adamant and stuck to his story “it had a missing fin”

“Payakan” Tsireya immediately said, exchanging nervous glances with her siblings “you are lucky to be alive Lo’ak”

The boy seemed confused by that statement, so Y/N took the liberty to further explain their reaction.

“He’s a killer” she told him, finger drawing random shapes in the sand as she spoke “he’s killed other tulkun and na’vi”

“Not here” Aonung added “but a little far from this village”

“He’s been outcast since” Rotxo chimed in, contributing with his share of knowledge “he hasn’t been seen much since”

“He’s no killer” Lo’ak blew a raspberry, clearly not buying into what the other had to say about his new friend “he saved my life”

“My baby brother, the mighty warrior” Neteyam tried to lighten the mood by simply just giving his brother some credit for surviving whatever took place out these in open waters “who took on the killer tulkun and lived to tell about it”

That clearly didn’t sit well with said ‘baby brother’. He huffed in annoyance as he arose to his feet, not happy about being treated like a child by his older brother.

“You guys aren’t listening” he pouted, walking away from them.

“Lo’ak I’m listening” Tuk tried to get him to come back. She was always so eager to be around him, doing whatever she could to be in her older brother’s good books.

Still, it didn’t seem to work because he walked away nonetheless.

Y/N and Tsireya were up on their feet, ready to talk Lo’ak into coming back but Neteyam held Y/N’s hand, giving her an expression that clearly read ‘it’s okay, leave him’. She stayed put, but gave her sister a nod to go after him, knowing that if anyone could calm the boy down, it was her.

“I’m bored now” Tuk crossed her arms. She was obviously enjoying the story time with her brother and now with him gone, she needed something else to keep herself busy. She tugged Aonung by the hand, forcing him to get to his feet “I want to go look for shells, help me find them”

“I know a good place” Rotxo offered, looking at Kiri in hopes that she’d join too “it’s that way”

Y/N watched as Tuk rounded them up and followed after Rotxo, happily skipping along to pass the time by looking for shells by the beach.

“You aren’t coming?” Neteyam asked, sweetly waiting for Y/N while the others headed out to wherever Rotxo was leading them.

“You go ahead pretty boy, I’ll just stay here for a bit” she looked up at him, too lazy to get up and walk around the beach.

Ah, there it is again, she called me pretty.

Neteyam involuntarily simpered at the nickname she’d given him, finding it stupid that a big boy like him was inwardly kicking and giggling at a pet name given by a girl. Especially one like this which actually made him wonder if she actually meant it or if she was just saying it.

“What?” She scrunched her brows as she fondly examined his expression shift from neutral to borderline abashed.

“What?” He asked back.

“What’s with that smile?”

“I always smile like this” he sat down next to her, silently wondering what had changed about his smile. He was smiling like how he normally did, right?

“No, you’re trying fight that smile” she was teasing, poking her finger playfully at his cheek which only elicited an adorable chuckle from Neteyam “was it because I called you a pretty boy?”

“You can call me anything you like, I assure you it doesn’t make me blush” he held her by the wrist to keep her from poking at his cheek, beaming down at the girl who was poking fun at him, quite literally.

“I didn’t say you were” she grinned “aw, are you actually blushing Netetyam?”

“Oh fuck off” he chuckled before his eyes went wide upon realising he swore in English around her. One more thing Y/N had in common with Lo’ak apart from their heightened curiosity was their childish fascination for swearing in English “do not repeat that”

“Don’t repeat what?” Y/N raised a brow, a mischievous smirk dancing on her lips “fuck off, is that what I’m not supposed to repeat?”

“Your dad is going to kill me one day” he facepalmed, groaning at the fact that he’d unintentionally added another profanity to her dictionary.

Y/N laughed at this, her forehead coming to rest on his shoulder as she continued to giggle. Neteyam only looked down at her fondly, feeling something warm zap through his chest like lightning. He liked the sound of her laugh and more so, liked the fact that he made her laugh.

Another thing he seemed to like, was how she hadn’t pulled away her hand that was still in his. Why did he like it? He didn’t know, he just did.

While the both of them enjoyed each other’s company, Lo’ak and Tsireya observed them from a distance. Like Y/N had suspected, her sister did manage to calm him down and convince him to return to the group. What they saw on their way back was their entire gang amis from the spot except for Neteyam and Y/N who were laughing while seemingly holding hands.

“Look at the fool” Lo’ak pointed at his brother, looking at him with an expression that was nothing less than disappointment “he’s clearly into her, he’s giving her ‘the look’, see”

“The look?” Tsireya asked, head tilting in confusion. She didn’t know what it meant but she couldn’t deny that they would look cute together.

“Yea it’s like.. he dying to kiss her” he told her and watched as Tsireya’s eyes went wide “but he’s too much of a wuss to do it”

“Does your brother like my sister?” She asked, once again looking at the two.

“If I ask him he’ll say no” he answered with a shrug “but it’s so clear that he has a thing for her. I mean look at him, he’s holding her hand and everything”

“Mhm, they’re leaning into each other a lot too while talking” Tsireya noticed, observing their body language more closely “do you really think they’ll end up together?”

“If we’re waiting for my brother to make a move, it’ll be a while before that happens” Lo’ak honestly told her with a roll of his eyes “he’s never been the type to run after girls”

Lo’ak found it to be a different but pleasant change to for once see his brother actually allowing himself to just be a boy and have fun rather than being busy with training. It was a bit unusual to see him enjoy the company of a girl though but it did give Lo’ak a chance to tease him about something. And he liked Y/N so if his brother did end up tripping over his own tail for someone, he’d be quite glad it was her over anyone else.

All he did wish for was for his brother to not antagonise him by playing oblivious to his own feelings and to keep all the mushy stuff away from his poor eyes.

[cluelessandsenseless]

Tim Laflour x Black!Reader

I don’t know how to say it but she's brutally honest and kinda bitchy but she loves her boyfriend Tim.

I wanted to make this shorter because I've been typing too much today (i've been beefing someone). I failed its not short - call me sir yappsalot.

Y/N loves her boyfriend Tim.

Darryl thought Tim was crazy for approaching Y/N for the first time, like he thought Tim was going to come back traumatised when instead he got your number.

Darryl is afraid of her (he has gotten on her bad side before for sure), like she’s so nice until you cross the line or say something you shouldn't.

Darryl will however match her vibe sometimes.

Tim really put on the Canadian charm with Y/N to get her number, she was probably standoffish at first but she gives him a chance because she thinks he's cute too.

"Hey, you're Y/N right?"

(He knew that)

"Yeah, can I help you?"

"Um.. I'm Tim."

"Hi Tim.."

"I'm in your poetry class."

*his hand on the back of his neck awkwardly rubbing it*

"I know."

"I've seen you around and I was just wondering if I could get your number?"

"..Oh. Um... okay, yeah you seem nice."

"Thank you."

"Here, see you around Tim."

“Bye 😍”

Darryl watches the whole interaction, he is shook to say the least.

Darryl is more nervous than Tim for their first date.

"Tim, man. Are you sure this is a good idea? I heard she Made a professor cry last semester."

"She is not as scary as everyone makes her out to be, just trust me, eh?"

"Hey, man it's your funeral don't come crying to me."

Y/N takes Tim to her favourite coffee place for lunch, they just talk about class, their hobbies and Y/N finds Tim cute, like in a quirky way.

Tim can't wait to get home and tell Darryl how wrong he was about Y/N.

After their date they walk to class and study together.

Tim moves to sit with Y/N in class.

Y/N is giddy about it but wont show it.

Y/N deffo makes the first move because she can tell Tim was hesitant.

After that they are inseparable.

Probably one of those "he fell first, she fell harder" situations.

People are surprised at how blatantly in love Y/N is with Tim.

People forget who they think Y/n is when they see her so heart eyes with Tim.

Y/N’s always pissed at someone but Tim makes her so happy.

Y/N loves Tim so much he is literally is the only one she could never be mad at.

She's the type of girl pull the "I have a boyfriend" card and just walk away to avoid talking to strangers.

Tiny but mighty, Tim finds her so hot when she's mad.

Y/N definitely has never been in a fight but she’s prepared.

She’s not a bitch she is however she is bitchy sometimes out of spite.

Tim listens to Y/N ranting about anything happily and vice versa.

Y/N adores Tim and he adores her.

Y/N doesn’t do bullshit.

She will defend herself, her man, her friends and even strangers.

Y/N will square up to men twice her size and Tim will have to step in to stop her from getting her ass beat.

Queen of dirty looks but Tim still questions why people find her so intimidating to him she's so harmless, he's clueless.

She doesn’t look like it but she loves head banging when Tim takes her to punk clubs because it’s therapeutic.

Cuddles with Tim all the time.

Tim suggests she tries depriving herself of her pleasures, Y/N thinks that’s a terrible idea.

When Tim puts that black X on his hand it Y/N wants to scream.

He doesn't last long.

She probably barks at rude people (I'm a Tana Mongeau fan sorry).

Y/N doesn't like being told what to do.

Bye xx

[weemsfreak]

Full Circle - Won't You Come Out to Play?

Part 2

Larissa Weems x fReaderOC

Hello all, so I got a few requests for part 2 of Full Circle! I'm sorry it took so long, but I'm so glad that you liked the first part! There will be a part 3 (smut) but i'm going to tie it in with golf.

~6.8k words.

✂ Song: Dear Prudence by Siouxsie & The Banshees (linked at bottom)

If you need a refresh, pt 1 is here.

Warnings: A bit of misogyny, harassment, alcohol

Tags: @dopenightmaretyphoon @danverssawyer @dingdongthetail @notmeellaannyy @lvinhs @kimiinou @im-a-carnivorous-plant @barbarasstar @lostmyotheraccount @readingtheentrails

☾☾☾

The next couple weeks were far too busy for your liking. Your boss was calm and kind, but lately she had been busy and stressed, which meant that you were as well. You hadn't had time to venture to the golf course, even though you were missing it dearly.

Something else you were missing dearly, was your father. The anniversary of his death was coming up next week, and you'd be lying if you said that you weren't in a rut.

Sunday, you sat on your couch, soothing your pains with a tub of chocolate ice cream. It was a gorgeous day outside, but nothing you could dream of had the ability to your ass up and moving.

As you sat and wallowed in your self pity, a text lit up your phone. You ignored it at first, until you glanced down and saw who it was from.

Larissa (from golf)

How are you, darling? I haven't seen you in awhile :(

You opened your phone and smiled down at the text. Someone else that you were missing dearly, was Larissa. Since you last golfed with her, you have been slowly coming to the realization that you adored the tall woman. The parts of her that she showed you, and the little that you did know about her, had you thinking about her often, and becoming increasingly enamoured with her.

She was truly gorgeous, inside and out. She was smart, funny, caring, soft, selfless, and just absolutely ravishing. The thought of her had you kicking your feet and blushing. You felt so safe and calm in her presence, she brightened your day whenever you saw her. She was one of a kind, truly.

You have been thinking about what Glen and Tom said, 'She likes women, and she's single.' As giddy as that made you, for some reason, you couldn’t help but question why she was single. Why was a woman, a woman like her, single? Had the gods put this glorious woman loving woman in front of you just to spite you? Just to make you crazy? Perhaps she was crazy? Unattainable? Well, she had twenty years on you, which didn't bother you, but maybe it would bother her.

Yes, that's what she was, unattainable. She was lovely, and as you said, one of a kind. There was nobody else like her, nobody else in her damn league.

You

Hi Larissa! I'm fine, how are you? I've been busy with work, but I hope that you've been at the course enjoying yourself :)

Larissa (from golf)

I've been out with Tom and Glen a few times, it has been fun. It's not as enjoyable without you there, though ;)

You held back a giddy laugh, what a flirt.

You

I miss it :(

Larissa (from golf)

Won't you come out to play next week, Prudence? :)

You

Of course! What day are you free?

Larissa (from golf) <3

Saturday at 5?

You sighed, Saturday was the anniversary of your fathers death.

Alas, what better thing to do on that day besides golf?

You

I can't wait! See you then :)

Larissa (from golf) <3

Take care, darling!

☾☾☾

4-

Saturday had been harder for you than you had anticipated, which was why you found yourself late for golf. You pulled up to the golf course, basically running to the first hole, and found Larissa waiting patiently, wiping down her clubs as she basked in the sun. You trained your eyes on her as you slowed your pace and walked up behind her.

 She truly looked angelic, her light blonde hair becoming gold in the sun, and her figure outlined in a soft glow. You stopped and let yourself breathe for a moment, taking in the sight before you and committing it to memory.

Damn, Glen was right, you did have a crush. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that you were downplaying it.

"There you are, love" Larissa smiled, turning around when she felt a presence behind her. She was wearing a light yellow striped polo and a white golf skirt. You had to stop yourself from gasping when your brain registered the image before you.

"Sorry I'm late Larissa. I really have no excuse" you chuckled.

Larissa shook her head and batted her lashes at you, "No worries Prudence, I was just enjoying the sun."

 When you got to hole 5, you were setting up to drive, gauging your swing. It had been a peaceful day so far, you and Larissa had been chatting and taking your time.

You heard a golf cart pull up on the path next to you, and you stopped what you were doing. To your total annoyance, the younger man who had served you the other day, and also made rude comments about Larissa, got out of his cart and walked your way. You heard Larissa mutter 'fuck' under her breath.

"Larissa, you're looking fine, as always" he said with a cocky smile.

"Jake, why are you here?" Larissa's eyebrows quirked up in question, an unamused frown on her face.

Jake gestured to another young man behind him, "Why, Brad and I just wanted some playing time with you ladies." He then gazed past Larissa, and set his eyes on you, looking you up and down.

"I haven't seen this one around before, she any good?" he asked Larissa.

"She is, very good. But I would appreciate it if you would leave us to play by ourselves" Larissa basically spat.

"You want her all to yourself huh?" Brad chimed in.

"I can see why, she's hot" Jake said, chucking and nodding to Brad.

You took a deep breath as you looked to the grass. You didn’t want to do this, ever, but definitely not today.

"I'll make you a deal woman" Jake said, gesturing to you. "Let’s play together. If you beat me on this hole, I'll leave you both alone today; but if I beat you, you have to go on a date with Brad."

Your face fell to one of disgust at his words. And why would you want to go on a date with this pretentious, ugly, lowlife man? Was there a reason anyone would want that?

Larissa was shocked at his bet, and she turned your way to gauge your vibe. You were standing there, leaning against your driver, face scrunched up, repulsed. It brought a little relief to Larissa, knowing that you were in fact, not interested in this cocky man, and that you'd rather stay with her.

She turned back to the boys, her fists tightened beside her body in anger.

"She will be doing no such thing." You let a small smile form on your lips.

"Fine, then I bet you, Larissa. And when I win, you have to go on a date with me."

You let out a loud scoff as Jake's lips curled up into a smirk. You then stepped away from the tee and stood closer to Larissa. You watched as her eyes widened, she would be doing no such thing, no such childish thing.

"I will not be-" "I accept your bet, Jake" you said, interrupting Larissa. Larissa looked down at you, eyebrows set in confusion as she took you in.

"Except when I win, you leave Larissa alone, for good" you stated, indefinitely. Jake chuckled and shook his head, "Fine, deal."

"Ladies before gentlemen" you said, gesturing for him to step up to the tee first. He frowned at you, but pulled his driver and made his way up. You heard Larissa giggle behind you, then you felt butterflies in your stomach over the sound. You didn't want to do this, but if you were going to, you were going to do it right.

As Jake set his tee in the ground as you took the time to plan your hits. It just so happened that you were exceptionally good at this hole. You paid no mind when Jake drove the ball, as it didn't matter anyway. You then set up and drove your pro v1, sending it the same place that Jake's ball had landed.

"Well, let's go" Jake said, hurrying Brad into the cart. You looked up at Larissa and ushered her into the cart, following close behind them. It wouldn't be easy to cheat at golf, but you didn't trust these boys, not for a second.

As you drove down the fairway, Jake stopped at his ball. You didn't know exactly where yours had gone, but it was around this area.

"Here!" Larissa said, pointing to the pro v1 in the grass. You let out a menacing laugh, it had traveled further than Jake's.

You watched as Jake pulled a wedge, and shot his ball to the green. You did the same, sending your pro v1 to the green, and hiding your smirk as you did. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves, you really wanted to impress the older woman. But you were lucky, this was going surprisingly well.

As you played, Jake and Brad murmured comments to each other, some of which you caught.  Sometimes Jake would say sexist things to your face, and every time you would tell him to shut up, or Larissa would spit back at him, but it honestly fueled you to do better.

As you ventured back to the cart to grab your putter, you felt Larissa's hands at your shoulders. She leaned down to your ear from behind, whispering in a way that made you hold back a shiver. "You're doing exceptional darling, show them who's boss."

Her praise was enough for you to end up with a birdie and amusedly watch Jake struggle to sink his ball on par. You watched as Jake threw his club to the ground and cursed, to which you threw your hands in the air and ran over to Larissa.

"Hell yea!" you hollered, jumping up and high fiving her with both hands.

"Great job darling! I knew you could do it, I'm so proud" Larissa said, wrapping her fingers around yours. You blushed as you held her hands, "Well, at least he'll leave you alone now."

You heard Jake and Brad talking loudly behind you, and didn't hesitate to turn and walk up to them. Larissa couldn't hear your conversation from where she was, but she watched as you pressed a finger to Jakes chest, your jaw clenched in anger. Your gaze bore into Jake's eyes, relentlessly speaking.

"If I ever see you talk to Larissa or glance at her inappropriately again, I swear to god I will haunt you forever." And that was that.

You sighed as you finished the last hole on the course and sat in the golf cart. Larissa could see plain as day that you were tired, worn out perhaps, and she placed a hand on the small of your back.

"What's got you down, darling? Tired?" she asked sincerely. You nodded your head, averting her gaze, until you felt a tear trickle down your cheek. Larissa leaned over and wiped it away gently, you turned as your gaze met hers. She looked down at you with worry, her blues silently asking if you were okay.

"It's the anniversary of my fathers death" you murmured.

Her shoulders dropped, "Oh Prudence I'm sorry darling, I didn't know."

You shook your head and looked down at your hands, "No it's okay. I figured there was nothing better for me to do today than golf."

You took a deep breath and looked back up at her, your lower lip wobbling.

"Being with you makes me feel better" you whispered.

Larissa pouted, her arms wrapping around you and pulling you close. You laid your head on her shoulder, the warmth of her body bringing you a sense of peace.

"You did so well today, showing up those immature boys. I know what we should do" Larissa whispered.

You pulled back and tilted your head in question, "What?"

The woman smiled as she stepped on the gas, "We should buy you a new driver!"

Larissa took you to the shop, and you slowly made your way around. There were a few drivers that caught your eye, but there was one in particular that would match your set perfectly. You walked up and checked the price, letting out a hum in thought.

Well, that was an issue. It was very pricey, even though it was on sale.

Larissa watched you ponder over it, then walked to you with a toothy smile.

"This one is nice Prudence, it matches your set perfectly."

You nodded, setting it back on the rack. "It is, it's just a bit pricey."

You walked around some more, pondering the other drivers before settling against the wall and checking your phone. You watched Larissa as she looked through the irons, and you took the time to stealthily check your bank account.

After a couple minutes, you decided that you could afford it, barely. You sighed, walking over to the driver and picking it up.

Larissa had watched you check your phone out of the corner of her eye, she knew what you were doing. She decided in that moment that she wanted to make you feel better, to give you a little joy on this rather depressing day.

"Are you happy with this one?" she asked, taking it from you to look it over.

"Yeah, I guess I'll get it. I really need a new one."

Larissa nodded, handing it back to you. You took it to the counter and gave it to the man, digging for your card.

"$600" the man said, and you almost threw up.

"One sec, I'm just looking for my card" you replied, digging through your bag in a rush.

Larissa took this opportunity and walked up to the counter, then you heard a beep. You stopped your rummaging and turned to her, wide eyed.

"Do you want your receipt?" the man asked. "Yes, please" Larissa replied.

She then took your driver from the man and held it out to you.

"L-Larissa?" you stuttered, not believing for a second what you had just witnessed. Larissa smiled and grabbed your hand as she drug you outside, basically shoving the driver into your hands so that you would take it.

"Why, what, why did you pay for this? I-I can't take this!" you said loudly, beginning to panic. Larissa placed her hands on your shoulders and bent down to your level.

"Shh darling, it's alright. I wanted to do something for you. I want you to know that you deserve to be treated well Prudence, and I want to see you happy."

You took deep breaths, getting lost in her deep blues as you listened to her soft gentle voice. "That's-it's so much money though. I don't want you to spend that on me" you whispered, lip quivering. Larissa smiled and pulled you to her.

She mumbled into your hair, "You're worth it darling. Don't worry about the money, because I'm not worried about it."

You almost laughed, you couldn't help but think that only a rich person would say something like that. Your breathing settled as you focused on her heartbeat against yours. Tears gathered in your eyes over this rather emotional day, and you buried your head into her chest and held her tighter. "Thank you, Larissa."

☾☾☾

You were practicing your putting skills with a friend after work. Mark was very good at his job, and he had helped you out with many things since you started. He had just gotten into golf, so in turn you offered to teach him a few things.

Larissa made her way to the entrance of the clubhouse, doing a double take when she spotted you. Her heartbeat picked up, you weren't hard to notice, your distinct look and beauty made you easy for her to spot. She tilted her head in question as she watched you converse with a man, helping him out by adjusting his arms and putter.

Larissa obviously knew how to putt, but in that moment she wished that she didn't. She wished that she needed help with something just like that.

She watched as the man took his try at putting, then he leaned in close to you and whispered in your ear. Larissa's eyebrows furrowed as she took in the scene before her, and she felt herself become a bit defensive. She didn't really know why, but she felt a little, bothered? She wanted to march over to you and interrupt, push herself in between the two of you.

Perhaps she was jealous?

"Do you have the things?" Mark whispered to you, hoping nobody would hear. You tried your best not to let out a laugh, he was being so secretive about something so normal. You reached into your jacket pocket and handed him a brown paper bag that contained condoms. Mark was a sweet and quiet man, and he and his girlfriend were not very outgoing souls. He asked you recently if you'd get him some condoms, as he was too nervous to buy them in public. You were glad that he felt comfortable with you, and you understood where he was coming from, you didn't mind helping a friend out.

Larissa headed towards the washroom, her legs taking her there without question. That man didn't seem like a threat, well, why would he be anyway? It was alright if you liked men, it was alright if you were with someone. She wasn't with you, she really didn't even know you that well. Yet, she couldn't help but be bothered by it.

She quickly shifted into the form of a middle aged man in light golf attire and exited the washroom, making her way to the putting green. When she got to the green she pulled out her putter and eyed you as you were practicing your technique.

The man was gone, hopefully, and you were rather focused on your ball. Larissa's eyes raked over your form, from your determined expression, to your outfit, to your shoes, to your club, to... she looked down at the green and caught something gold on the ground. Was that…a condom?

'Alright, a little more to the left, don’t hit it so hard' you thought to yourself.

"Hi there" a tall man greeted, smiling down at you. You tilted your head in surprise as you looked up at him. He spoke with a British accent, had very light hair, wore pristine attire, and looked rather...well you'd say it, prude.

"Hi" you replied, offering a light smile. As you took him in, you noticed his blue eyes and pale skin, and you couldn't help but think that he'd be perfect for Larissa, if she were into men. You quickly clenched your fist at the thought. Thinking of Larissa with someone else, a man especially, made you bothered, outraged.

Perhaps you were jealous?

"Drop something there, darling?" the man asked, gesturing to the ground. You gazed down as you followed his line of sight, and your eyes landed on a gold wrapper. You pursed your lips in embarrassment as you realized that you had dropped a condom.

"Oh, uh, that's not mine" you lied. The man walked closer to you, bending down and picking it up almost right under your feet.

"Not yours?" he asked, holding it in his hand. You stared at it for a second, feeling embarrassed by the situation. It just felt weird, dropping this, of all things, at a golf course and a man, of all people, finding it.

You shook your head, "Nope" you said, popping the p when you did. The man shrugged and shoved it into his pocket, nodding and bidding you a good day.

Larissa knew that was a weird encounter, and that it would leave you confused. She couldn't help it, though, why did you have a condom? It had to be yours, it was under your feet, and you were the only one on the putting green. You looked really, really embarrassed, even guilty when she had asked about it. There was nothing wrong with having condoms, obviously, but she couldn't help but wonder why you had them. You were far too sweet, to pure to be in the hands of a man. She could take care of you better than any man could, in many ways.

There were hints that she had gotten from you that made her think you may fancy her, but she has been fooled before. She hoped that you were not messing around with men, and she really hoped that you were into women, into her.

☾☾☾

5-

Today you were out with Tom, Glen, and Larissa, and you had no bad feelings about a certain slimy dude slithering around. On top of that, you were really excited to use your new driver. Larissa warned the elder men that she may be late, so Tom and Glen decided to start without her.

"Nice driver you got there" Tom said, admiring the driver in your hands.

"You save up fast, huh?" he added with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at him, you knew by the look on his face that he was messing with you, these old men seemed to know everything.

At the second hole, you watched Glen tee off. You always took note of his technique, as his drives were the best you've seen. Well, besides Larissa's, of course. You suddenly felt long fingers lay themselves gently over your eyes from behind, and you let out a yelp in surprise. You got a whiff of rose and frankincense as a smooth accent filled your ears. "Who is it?" Larissa asked, murmuring against your hair.

You couldn't help but smile wide as instant happiness flowed through you.

"Larissa!" you beamed, turning around and gazing lovingly at the tall woman. Your smile got bigger, if that was even possible, when you saw her toothy grin looking down at you with joy.

She adorned a white sleeveless dress, and her light aesthetic, including her creamy skin, made you feel a bit insignificant, insecure. She was the sun, her smile and warm personality lighting up your day with ease. She was the embodiment of life, she was vital to get you through the day, everyday.

And you were, well, perhaps the darkness, perhaps death. Your aesthetic was dark, your thoughts were even darker, and you did not shine in the way that she did.

You thought for a moment that maybe you two needed each other, like the sun and the moon, to balance out. That thought quickly faded though, as you were not the moon. The moon was far too bright, far too intelligent, and absolutely nothing would, or should, change her in anyway, dull her light in the slightest.

Tom chuckled, "Oh, so now Rudy smiles." Larissa's brows furrowed as she turned her attention to Tom, "What? Who?" she asked confused.

"You wouldn't have anything to do with Rudy's new driver there, would you Riss?" Glen asked, changing the topic.

"I don't know what you're talking about" Larissa replied, pulling out her 3 wood. Glen looked to Tom and laughed amusedly, making his way over to you. He leaned in and winked, "Good going girl, got her spending money on ya already."

As the day progressed, you came to realize that your old driver was in fact, holding you back. You were an excellent player, and you knew that, but this driver gave you that extra push you needed to travel yards further.

"I'm surprised Jake isn't up Rissa's ass. I haven't seen him around lately, have you?" Tom asked Glen. "No, I haven't seen him" Glen answered, a smile pulling at his lips. Larissa chuckled and looked at the old men in wonder, "What are you two up to?"

Tom raised a brow, "I was just wondering what happened to him, he seemed to be all over you." You furrowed your brows at the men, the way they were talking was obviously sarcastic, and you couldn't help but think that they were hiding something.

"Last I heard little miss here challenged him for Larissa" Glen said, smirking your way. You blushed. "Last I heard he got fired" Tom added. Your eyes went wide, fired? Had you gotten him fired? No, no, he had've gotten himself fired.

"What?" Larissa asked, her mouth opening in surprise. The old men laughed. She narrowed her eyes at them, "Did you two have anything to do with it?!"

The old men looked at each other, "No, no. Wasn't us" Tom said, putting his hands up in surrender. "We would never" Glen added, winking at the woman.

You stepped on the gas of the golf cart, driving Larissa to her car after 14 holes. She had meetings with the board today, which was her reason for being late, and why she had to leave early. You were thankful that she came out today at all, considering how busy her day seemed to be. Yet, you couldn't help but be disappointed at her leaving.

You drove down the path to the parking lot, going full speed. You didn't speak, as your dark thoughts were, for some reason, taking over. You felt suddenly tired and frustrated, like you didn't have the energy to finish the game, not without her.

A rabbit caught you off guard as it fled the line of trees on the right side of the road and ran in front of your cart. You swerved in an attempt to not hurt the animal, almost falling off of the path as you did. You watched out of the corner of your eye as Larissa squealed and gripped the handle of the cart, as your quick turn almost sent her flying out.

"Shit Riss!" you screamed, reaching out and grabbing her by the arm to pull her back in. You set the cart straight once more, and finally reached the parking lot. When you stopped, your heart beat fast, you realized that you were holding onto Larissa like she was your lifeline.

Larissa looked at you with a shocked expression before she burst into laughter. You watched as she threw her head back as a loud laugh racked through her body, her hand coming to squeeze yours.

Her laughter was contagious, despite your depressing and frightened mood, you laughed with her. Tears threatened to fall from your eyes as you were feeling a myriad of emotions. You could never live with yourself if you had hurt this gift of a woman.

"Darling, that was almost the end of me" she giggled, eyes closed as she tried to compose herself. Tears fell slowly from your eyes as you thought about it. You knew that she was joking, but the possibility of hurting this precious woman wrapped your insides in thick rope and forced them out of your throat. You felt like you may throw up.

"Prudence, what's wrong?" she asked, leaning closer to you with a new found serious expression. You wiped at your eyes and chuckled, "Nothing Riss, I'm really sorry" you murmured. Larissa caught your lousy attempt to hide your tears, and she pulled you tight against her.

"That was fun darling, let’s do it again."

You looked up at her, your eyes glimmering with tears and apologies. "Really?" you whispered.

"Of course, love. Would you be up for night golf? On Friday?"

You smiled, night golf sounded fun, you haven't done that in a long while. "Yes, please."

You drove back to meet Tom and Glen at hole 15, digging out your hybrid. You were quiet for awhile, and Glen and Tom took note of that.

"She likes you, you know" Glen said, walking your way with Tom following behind. You shook your head in disbelief. "No, she doesn't" you chuckled sadly.

"She does Rudy, she told us" Tom admitted. You gazed up at the older men in surprise, but said nothing.

"Did she invite you to night golf?" Glen asked.

"Yeah, she did" you nodded.

Tom smiled, "She wants to get to know you better. She said something about you making her feel younger, making her feel special. I suppose she likes playing with you for the same reason that we like playing with her, but different."

You sniffled as you thought about it, maybe they were right, maybe they weren't always pests.

"I like her, a lot" you mumbled. The older men smiled at each other before Glen placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Okay, here's what you're going to do."

☾☾☾

On Thursday, you found yourself at the mall. You wanted, no needed, a wardrobe update. You often wore pants to golf, but Larissa had inspired you to branch out. You tried on a few golf dresses and skirts, finding enough confidence to buy a black sleeveless dress and a red skirt. You always thought that Larissa looked delectable in her outfits, and you wanted to keep up with her.

Glen and Tom actually gave you some good advice, planning something that you thought would be rather successful, if you could stick to it.

Some days, you were not confident in yourself. You have always been this way, but you worked through it.

Larissa however, was always perfect. Her non judgemental and caring personality made you feel safe under her gaze, but you couldn't help but think that she was too beautiful for someone such as yourself.

When you got home, you couldn't help but feel giddy as you downed some red wine, excited to see Larissa tomorrow night. You tried on your white polo with your red skirt, and decided that it was as close as you'd get to Larissa.

As close as you'd get to being the light, the goddess, the life that she embodied.

For she was the sun, and you revolved around her.

☾☾☾

6-

As the night began to fall dark, you scanned the outside of the clubhouse. You needed a drink (or two) for courage, as you went over Glen and Tom's plan in your head.

It was simple, make a bet with Larissa, win. Make a bet with Larissa, win. Make a bet with Larissa, wi- "Good evening, love."

You whipped your head around to find Larissa marvelling down at you. She was wearing a sage green golf dress, and she looked absolutely exquisite.

"Hi Riss!" you beamed, your heart beat picking up rapidly.

"Are you ready to play, Pru?" She looked down at your drink and side smirked, "Or do you want to have a drink first?"

You nodded as you scootched over a seat and gestured for her to sit. The waiter brought her a glass of red and she held it out to you as her other hand landed softly on your thigh.

"To the end of the summer" Larissa smiled.

You clicked your glass to hers, "To the end of the summer."

The night was beautiful. Many stars were out, shining in the vastness of space and displaying their infinite beauty. The course felt different in the dark, but you liked different. The artificial lights lit up the night peacefully, and you were excited. Nervous, giddy, scared, and excited. There weren't a lot of people playing tonight, and for that you were grateful.

As you and Larissa started hole three, you put the plan into action. You knew that if you waited any longer, you would wait until the game was over. Yes, you were a master of procrastination.

"Hey Riss?" you asked, fidgeting with your hands as you stared from behind. She was setting up to tee off, but the timidness in your voice made her turn around. She walked closer, not stopping until she was directly in front of you.

"Yes, darling?" You tried so hard to hide your smile, your enamour, your nervousness, your feelings, but as you looked up at her, you were almost positive that the truth was written in your eyes.

"Do you want to make a bet?"

You watched as Larissa's eyebrows raised, but her smile never faltered.

"What kind of bet?"

You instantly blushed, looking down at the grass and composing yourself. You looked back up at her, some confidence finding you as you replayed Glen and Tom's words in your head. 'She likes you, you know.' 'She does Rudy, she told us.'

"We will keep score from now until the last hole. If you beat me, well, you can choose whatever you want, but if I beat you.." You took a breath, "If I beat you, I get to kiss you."

Larissa's eyes widened, as did her smile, before she put on a façade, tilting her head to show that she was pondering accepting or denying.

"I suppose I'm down with that, but I'm not telling you what I want until I win" she winked.

You smirked and nodded as relief washed over you, "Fair."

You put your everything into the game. You truly did your best, praying and even manifesting, which you had never tried before, that you'd get to kiss this absolute goddess.

Larissa however, also played her best, which was slightly better than yours. She found it adorable that you had thought of this bet and had the confidence to carry it out, all because you wanted to kiss her. She was proud of you, she was happy, actually she wanted to scream with joy.

You, a beautiful and kind young woman that she admired, that she adored, that she was infatuated with, wanted to kiss her, an old and fragile woman.

Yet, she had a plan of her own, and it didn't involve you winning.

As the game went on, your instincts told you every now and then that someone was watching you. Larissa felt the same, she knew that you were staring her down as well. She blushed and shook her head discreetly, hoping you wouldn't catch her infatuation. She knew that you couldn't take your eyes off of her, just as she couldn't take hers off of you.

When you got to hole 6, you took a washroom break. Larissa was nowhere to be seen when you returned. You looked around as you pulled your driver, and found that you were all alone.

"Riss?" The dark frightened you. You always felt like something, or someone, was going to come out of the woods for you. You placed your tee in the ground while searching nervously for Larissa, perhaps she also went to the washroom. You realized that her clubs were set close to yours, so she couldn't be far.

You shrugged as you lined up your driver, ready to send this bad boy flying and win the bet. Just as you took a practice swing, you heard rustling in the woods. You froze, staring wide eyed into the darkness. Where was this woman? Being alone was starting to creep you out. You shook away your freight, and slowly walked closer to the line of trees.

You stared into nothingness for a moment, finding nothing and hearing the same. You hummed questioningly and turned away, planning on ignoring whatever you had heard, but as you turned and took a step, you felt arms wrap around you and pull you into the bushes.

You screamed as you fell onto your ass, grunting when you landed. You then heard laughter, menacing laughter. No, it wasn't menacing, it was charming.

"Darling, are you quite alright?" she asked through giggles. You turned quickly, meeting Larissa's entertained gaze. "Larissa!" you squealed, swatting at her as you threw yourself into the woman. You pushed her playfully onto her back, hovering over her as she chuckled.

You giggled at her antics, "What the fuck!"

Larissa cupped your face in her hands as she looked up at you. She winked, "I got you."

You were pulled away from your putting when Larissa cooed "You look absolutely ravishing in that outfit, darling." Your jaw dropped as you stared down at the green, a harsh blush appearing on your face. You chuckled nervously, "Uh, thank you Riss. I thought I would expand my wardrobe."

Larissa crept closer to you, close enough to brush her fingers across your waist.

"Very good choice" she whispered. You quickly turned around to face the tall woman, she was closer than you had expected.

You narrowed your eyes at her, "Are you trying to throw me off?"

Larissa smirked and leaned in closer, "I don't have to throw you off in order to win, love."

You swallowed hard, your breathing becoming ragged. This woman knew how to flirt, and damn did she get you going.

At hole 9, you were almost shaking with anticipation. Oh god, why did you think this was a good idea?! You wanted to win, but you also didn't. Alas, you had no choice in the matter as Larissa was a few strokes ahead of you, and you knew that there was slim chance you could win now.

You focused on the game, not saying a word as you acted unbothered by Larissa's soon to be victory. You watched in disappointment as she sunk the ball, and you followed. At this later hour, the night was black, only artificial light allowing you vision.

Defeated, you sighed as you placed your clubs into your bag and sat in the passenger seat of the cart. Larissa didn't allow you to sit for long, however, as she pulled you gently up and placed her hands on your waist.

"This was so fun Prudence, it's always delightful playing with you."

Larissa spoke quietly, and with a sincere expression that made you weak in the knees. You had hugged this woman a few times before, but the feeling of her warm hands on your waist and her face so close to yours made you quiver. She was a vision, half of her lit up in an orange yellow glow, and the rest, darkness.

You smiled, placing your hands on her arms, "It's always a pleasure, Larissa."

You were never the best at picking up on vibes. Yet, the way that Larissa was holding you and gazing down at you, along with the elder men's confirmation, gave you enough confidence to take a chance. You wanted to take it back as soon as you whispered it, but it felt like a reflex, it felt right.

"I like you a lot, Larissa." Larissa's eyes widened as she gazed down at you. She wasn't surprised at what you had admitted, but she was surprised that you actually admitted it.

Actually scratch that, she was surprised. She had hoped and prayed that you had feelings for her, but she never let herself believe that you could, until she heard the words come out of your mouth.

You held your breath as she smiled wide, scrunching her nose up as her eyes crinkled. You swear you'd never get tired of seeing her smile like that.

Larissa quickly pulled you closer to her, your face ending up in the crook of her neck. You breathed in deeply, your heart settling at the smell of her skin.

"I like you a lot too, Prudence."

Your face lit up with joy immediately. You were elated, surprised that she would admit it. Or perhaps you didn't believe that she could like you back, not until you heard it from her velvet voice.

Happy tears slowly gathered in your eyes as you spoke. "I-I really like you Riss. You're absolutely gorgeous, you're funny, you're a joy to be around, your smile lights up my day." You pulled back slightly, cupping her cheek. "I just want to squeeze your cute face every time I see you" you chuckled.

You then frowned as tears threatened to spill. "I can't help but think that you're too good for me, though, too good for anyone. I mean, I don't have a great job, I don't know what I want, some days I can't get out of bed, I'm anxious, I'm insecure, I'm-" Larissa cut you off before you could say anything further with a soft kiss. You shivered as your nose brushed against hers, and then you felt her warm lips on your own. You hummed as you revelled in the feeling, hands wrapping around her neck to pull her closer.

Larissa pulled away slowly, her lips now just unreachable.

"Don't put yourself down, darling. I'm not too good for you. I won the bet, and that's what I wanted. This is what I want" she whispered.

You blushed profusely, hiding your face in the woman's neck as you smiled.

"Thank you Rissa" you murmured, kissing her neck lightly.

Larissa took in a shuddering breath at the contact, she didn't want to let you go.

"Would you like to come back to my place, darling?"

As you two walked off of the course hand in hand, you couldn't help but admire her. You felt so nervous that you could pass out, but her presence brought you all the peace. As you marvelled up at the woman in the dark, you realized something.

She was the sun, you were the moon, and you couldn't help but think that the she belonged with the darkness.

☾☾☾

[taradiddled]

A peek at Ada and Lucifer's life after Oz is born.

----

“So heeeeeeeere is where my erstwhile mistress has hidden herself away to!”

Adam turned her head away from where she’d been admiring the view of her and Lucifer’s house from the Hotel’s back porch. Lucifer was standing beside Adam’s rocking chair, holding a silver tray with at least three glasses of freshly squeezed lemonade. The Hellish red color of the lemonade was familiar to Adam, no longer a true oddity.

Lucifer looked down to Adam’s chest, where Little Oz snoozed, having fallen asleep almost immediately after being nursed and burped. Adam had wrapped the baby in the blanket she’d crocheted for him months ago, almost fully covering him, save for the little nubs on his head which would one day become full, proud devil horns.

”Out like a light?” The original devil asked, setting his platter down on the nearby little table. He seated himself in the space beside Adam, cozying right up to her size and resting his head against her shoulder.

Adam looked down at Oz’s little face, so smooth and soft with peace, and smiled softly herself. “He feasts on my tits, he burps onto my shoulder, and then he’s done.” She caressed the soft brown hair atop her baby’s head. “Greedy little thing,” she said a with a great deal of fondness.

Lucifer reached over to lightly tap the red circles on Oz’s cheek. The baby made a little squirm, face pinching briefly, before smoothing out with a return to sleep.

”He’s sooooooo cute,” Lucifer cooed, looking at his son with so much love and adoration in his eyes. It was practically downright goofy, to see the King of Hell so besotted, but this was the man Adam knew and loved.

She scoffed at his praise. “Of course he’s cute,” she stated, turning up her nose slightly, rubbing a hand up and down Oz’s little back. “He’s got a fucking gorgeous set of parents like us. Why wouldn’t he be the most adorable thing in existence?”

Lucifer snickered, nuzzling his face against Adam’s shoulder. “Nice of you to share the spotlight, Ada.” He sighed, red eyes again focusing upon the little Hellborn asleep on Adam’s chest. “I can’t believe he’s really here. Seems like just a week ago you were still pregnant, and crushing my hand during the delivery.”

Adam snorted. “Lucifer, that WAS a week ago. Don’t you remember?” She gestured to the scorch marks out on the ground, the half-mangled garden that lead up to her and Lucifer’s house, and the small craters in the dirt from where Exorcists had been hit hard by Lucifer’s attacks as he’d defended Charlie from the onslaught of Heaven’s Holy Army.

Adam could still pick-out the spot where she’d been crouched behind Lucifer’s protective barrier, deep into labor, with only Vaggie and her own banshee power to defend her should the barrier have fallen. It’d been, to put it plainly, a FUCKING NIGHTMARE. Luckily the battle had ended just when the baby was starting to crown, and a frazzled Dr. Vodello had finally arrived to takeover for the almost hysterically-freaked out Vaggie.

“I never did get that epidural,” Adam bitterly mused, remembering the pain she’d experienced. She’d been too deep into the birthing process for Lucifer to even use magic to alleviate the pain, too. But it’d probably been a good thing that they had stayed outside, because Adam’s banshee wail had emerged during the worst of the labor, and she probably would have destroyed Dr. Vodello’s office if they’d actually made it there in the first place.

”But you got through labor without it,” Lucifer tried to point out, smiling encouragingly. “And you didn’t even need any surgery afterwards!”

”I still destroyed about fifty flowerbeds with my wailing,” Adam grimaced. she’d planted those flowerbeds herself a couple months ago with Nifty’s help, finding that she could curb the little demon’s more violent tendencies with some garden work, though Nifty HAD stabbed at the ground when it came time to plant the seeds. Now several of those sprouts were gone, destroyed during the chaos.

Adam still needed to work on her control over her wail, but she would focus on that later, when she wasn’t still recovering from giving birth on a battlefield, and wasn’t so tired because she was up at odd hours with Lucifer, caring for their newborn son. Muriel also assisted with caring for the baby, but Adam wanted the little butler to spend more time with the Hotel’s residents, interacting with other people, and focusing on themselves for once.

That said, Adam WOULD take them up on their offer to watch Oz for the afternoon. Adam needed a nap uninterrupted from a baby’s crying, and judging by the little bags under Lucifer’s eyes, he too could use some rest. He’d taken the night-shift the night before with Oz, letting Adam sleep, before handing Oz off to her at sunrise, stating that he was going to just sit and close his eyes for a while before getting breakfast started. He’d ended up falling asleep sitting up on the bed, and Adam had tucked him in, before taking Oz through the garden path and into the Hotel, to assist Vaggie with preparing breakfast for everyone.

Oz had been mercifully calm the rest of the morning, save when Angel Dust had started watching TV, and the loud volume had made Oz quite fussy. Rather than tell Angel Dust to turn down the television, Adam had decided to take him out to the back porch to nurse him in relative privacy, sitting in the wide rocking chair Lucifer had made for her with his own two hands (and Asmodeus’s assistance).

So here they were, looking out off the back porch of the hotel Charlie and Lucifer’s and Alastor’s magic had created, facing the house that Lucifer had built for Adam with his magic. The magical wards, interwoven with Lucifer, Charlie, and Alastor’s power that made any further attacks on the property impossible to land. Or to infiltrate, should any Overlords (aside from Alastor) make any nefarious attempts.

Adam had witnessed many beautiful, magnificent structures being built from Heaven. Her descendants erecting towers and fortresses and castles and houses that had filled Adam with pride at their creativity and ingenuity. There had even been fantastic structures in Heaven, which had once awed Adam with their splendor.

But nothing could come close to the wonderful work that had gone into the Hotel and the house. Not even Lucifer’s palace, as lovely as it had been, could hope to compare with Adam’s new home.

[anonymousredactedconfessions]

It's me the William Solaire rider again. You all do not understand. I cannot state how much I would FUCK that old man. He will see stars. I will wring him dry. Until the bed splinters into ash.

From the moment I first heard that sexy ass French accent, I knew why I was put on this earth. It is my job, and mine alone, to ride that man into submission. Show him a world he has never imagined, a world far better than whatever his mind could ever deem to create.

Philospher Gilles Deleuze once said 'Desire must be challenged because it is precisely through challenges that desire becomes desire.'

How beautifully this resonates with me, for I know exactly which desire I wish to challenge with the force of a god. The seas will roil with the force of our love making. Tectonic plates, shifting and creaking. Heavens cracking open and spilling forth holy light. Stars, hanging over us in their shimmering glory. Keep your soft, placated lovers for the warm sun and fresh flowers. I want a man willing to destroy the sky for what he loves.

I've read accounts of people contending the moral character of William Solaire, and frankly, I have no need. I did not fall in lust with the man for his kindness or his compassion. Rather, the lack there of. Let him shove his problems off onto the people around him and lay there, sprawled out in silken decadence, and sleep for all I care. I adore that man's entire psyche. The ruthlessness, the indifference, his airy nonchalance.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, dear readers. For this is no story of love, but of pure physicality. We need not discuss the ethics of a man I shall never have. We can instead delight in the knowledge that, had I the opportunity, I would make him howl like a banshee and cuckold every last wife and husband he has ever had. Such is the beauty of his self-righteousness.

And his ass.

So, I leave you thusly. Keep imagining that you should save the devil from his sins. I shall do no such thing. Should he chose to lie under me, there will be no pretence but the delicious union of soul and body. I, his absolution. And he, my righteous temptation. Flee from the grey if you wish, and rest soundly in the knowledge that I will not. I shall accept every last sinew in that man. Absorb it. Cradle him into me and make him mewl like a bitch.

Yours sincerely,

THE William Solaire Rider x

.

[water9826]

INFINITE AND CHIMERA FANART: Shenanigans Edition by the wonderful @n0bluev!!!

*annoying chirp noises* IS SO HILARIOUS! Infinite is just as annoying as Gojo Satoru in canon ;) Perhaps more so because Infinite can screech like a banshee unprompted. This made me giggle so much to see Chimera do the classic Megumi Move: "Fool me once, I kill myself".

I adore the blob Chimera in this! Blob Chimera is best Chimera. He does use this form in the story, and this really makes me want to include it more! Besides Overtime, Infinite definitely enjoys targeting Chimera the most. Some things never change, even if the world is reset from the beginning <3

Thank you so, so much @n0bluev for all this wonderful fanart! It's an honor, and it reminded me as to why I started writing in the first place. Bit cheesy, but it's true. I love writing stories that people will enjoy or make them happy (despite all the angst I include aha) It's one of the best compliments for a writer to receive. However, I treasure each kudos, comment, like, bookmark, etc. from my readers. Y'all are the best!

[cosmiischillin]

Twilight Town AU: The Ragdoll Monster

In the original Ruby Gloom, Ruby was essentially the lone “human” of the group. She does live with a cyclops, a skeleton, a banshee, conjoined twins, ghosts, a bat, and three crows/ravens. In addition to Twilight Town, there’s also a witch and a fallen angel. Now I do say “human” with quotes since she’s described a lot as ragdoll-like if not straight up a ragdoll.

So I’m gonna describe and sorta layout what type of monster, my process in creating her, and what I have planned for her for y’all to read below.

The Ragdoll Monster

So in the AU, she is explicitly a living ragdoll. I think it’s a general agreed thing in the fanon that she is a ragdoll in the likeness of Raggedy Ann. To be honest she reminds me of Strawberry Shortcake a lot more.

With that in mind, I gave her all those little stitches on her body and even alongside her clothes since I think she looks adorable with the patchworks and wearing a lot of textile knits. I even made it a special ability that she can sew her body parts if she ever ends up injured though you’re better off not letting her bleed

The Dark Side

So it is planned already that Ruby is more than just a sweet looking face. This part of her design was based on the earlier versions of her character. The darker and very much goth version before the show. I was inspired by these snippets from an interview about her and some artwork of her

She also has a lot of inspiration from Coraline, in fact her eyes were gonna have little white spots to look like buttons but I couldn’t get them to look right hence her big eyes now.

Now for her really dark side and Lore. Her monstrous side is based on two things. One is the creep factor of dolls and puppets and the other is vampires.

I didn’t put him in her mood board but Ruby got some inspiration from Wally Darling such as his creepy little stare which gave me more ideas alongside the early ruby works.

Now the vampire part was added when I began concepting classic monsters into the AU. Out of nowhere I began to draw Dracula with a regular doll version of Ruby. I love the concept so I expanded it.

Lore and Backstory

Dracula and other vampires can turn humans by having them taste vampiric blood so, to test it out, Dracula got a baby ragdoll then injected his blood into the doll’s insides. Miraculously the ragdoll was brought to life though she appeared to be like a normal infant with an overly cheerful disposition. It was only then she showed abilities that not even vampires could possess. Dracula decided to name her Ruby and sewn up the rest of her appearance, calling her his daughter. At some point, Dracula hired the Raven brothers to leave his castle with Ruby to a place she could be safe from humans and to record anything new powers she develops.

Ruby has lived in the Twilight Town Mansion for now 17 years. She is upset that humans see monsters as nothing but evil and dangerous creatures that should be destroyed hence why she creates her new Blog, the Good n Gloom where she will be able to show that monsters are just like them If not a little creepy and kooky. But that doesn’t mean that when push comes to shove, she’ll do what she has to do in order to help her friends.

I hope you like this slightly longer post talking about Twilight Town! This is the first time I got to go in full about the lore and what has been done for these characters! I guess the vampires are kinda different from the classic movie version ^^:

Next Character: The Banshee

[bishie-haven]

After-party, Day 1, Part 2!

Alright, so part 2 of that list, HERE WE GO!

#7: The Avatar of Lust (Initial UR)

This blasted card…another NB-exclusive, they’re really able to lean into the “we’re in the past” element of the story and bring it out into the open. Being brought to Lamentation on account of hearing ghost-like noises, it turns out to be Asmo literally wailing like a banshee because of Satan’s remarks on him putting on airs. This leads to a point of backstory that I absolutely adore. We all know about how Asmo was nicknamed “the jewel of the heavens” by Luci himself and how the two were effectively a pair, but we never knew his true intentions behind it. Well, thanks to a flashback, we find out it’s because Luci saw all the effort Asmo put into things, whether successful or not, and that’s what truly made him shine like a gem to him. It really puts into perspective his abundance of drive and self-confidence and how it shines in every other situation he’s in. I hate that it takes over two sections of the story just to even start TALKING to him, but you take what you can get. 

And the ART…I have merch of this card art, and whatever side you look at, you can TELL the artists went all out for the release, whether demon OR angel form. (And also, WHY has no one said anything about how the demon form’s pose is the gold-standard yandere pose?!)

#6: Treat for a Job Well Done (Water Panic UR)

Oh, the equivalent of my birthday present last year~ While the event that was attached was…a bit less than desired (it felt like I was ACTUALLY working that temp job pushing through it…and you couldn’t even kiss him ON THE FERRIS WHEEL!), the story we got for that grind was SUCH a treat. Even with a concept as simple as “beach episode”, so many cute elements were added in, like the floater keychains and the drink customization. And overall the tone was just so playful, like it truly was a reward for the work you did to get this card. And you ACTUALLY get that kiss (if you want it!)!

While the card art doesn’t have many bells and whistles, the composition is what sold it for me. Both the initial and DF unlock are framed like you’re both under the warm rays of the sun (a rarity in this world), and each show Asmo with the biggest smile on his face…it warms my heart just as much!

#5: Gifts for My Valentine (Valentine’s ‘24 UR+)

Now THIS is a direction I haven't seen the Valentine's Day surprise take before. Casually dropping that he and other students have been cursed, we get full access to Asmo's thoughts for the day, and instead of stuff you shouldn't really be posting on the internet, the thoughts are actually pretty wholesome. However, it seems to wreck every surprise he tries to give you. Between a secret that romantic feeding makes a chocolate ten times sweeter (attacking me with my favorite romantic trope, no less) to wanting to share a gift so that they could be connected, you end up knowing it all. And what does he do to combat this? Pulls the “I'm your present, unwrap me” card to shroud his brain in mystery and have a decorated demon as your gift. Absolutely. Freaking. Adorable.

And the art? Oh COME ON, not only attacking me AGAIN with the initial art, but the suit in the DF unlock? The freaking RIBBON?! We're getting spoiled here!

#4: Lovable Me (Initial SSR)

The last of the NB-exclusive cards I can rank, this one I feel gets the most right when it comes to what they're trying to do. They show the start of a character's personality trait (in this case, the fifth deciding he's going to pursue being famous on social media), showing how it can be in a negative sense (bringing his twin younger brothers along primarily as pack mules on a shopping spree), and how it can be turned on its head. Within this story, Asmo gets a huge break when a scouting agent asks him to be an in-house model, but only if he immediately signs a contract at their HQ. He could have done this, nothing was stopping him…but he promised his brothers lunch and rest, and he knew that while he would have plenty more opportunities, he only had these brothers. It really reveals that under the glitz and glamor he likes to portray, he is loyal and dedicated to those he cares about. I've said it before and I'll say it again: to those of you thinking Asmo only cares about himself READ THIS NOW. Also, the fact that Mammon ends up getting the spot in his place and the lusty boy ends up going ballistic on him is hilarious. XD

AND the art also portrays multiple sides of him too. A big reason I love this character is because he is very much GNC and is ready and willing to wear things that aren't necessarily coded as masculine, whether that be lipstick (initial) or even a gorgeous ball gown (DF unlock). And this was one of the INITIAL cards??

#3: A Taste of Stan Culture (Hobby UR+)

While I adore our demon of desire, he is not the only one in this game I like. For example, my 2nd favorite amongst the brothers is our lovable little nerd, Leviathan. And if there’s one thing I and the envy demon have in common, it’s the passion we share for our faves. And my #1 gets to understand the mindset of the #2 in this story, where a spat between the two leads him to try and apologize by trying to get into his head about anime, idols and overall stan culture as a whole. Although from Asmo’s perspective, the faves he has in mind? Himself and you. On his end, wearing homemade merch of your love (in this case personalizing shirts with his face on it which, fun fact, show the art from his Return My Glow card from the OG game!). On your end, a fashion show with him laying on the praise as thick as he can: penlights, fans, hearts in his eyes and all! It highlights a lot of little things about him, too: he and Levi share a skill of sewing, and because Asmo has a hoard of fans himself, this little experiment allows him to understand them just a bit more. Development just for going the way of the otaku for a couple of days!

While I’ll admit the initial art for this card is just okay (unless you’re a huge fan of embroidering), the DF unlock is where it really shines. This is where we get him waving the fan and the penlight, but also where he’s wearing this GORGEOUS outfit that I will pay SO much money for in order for it to be a model in-game, PLEASE SOLMARE!!

#2: Li’l Asmo’s Big Journey (Fairytale UR+)

This. This freaking story. How many ways can I say I love this story?? Since I was a kid, I loved movies like “Honey I Shrunk the Kids” and many an episode of a TV show where characters either grew or shrank and had to get used to the new perspective of the world around them. In this case, thanks to context from another unlockable chat, nibbling on a few cookies off-screen caused Asmo to go down to mere inches in height, leading to a slew of shenanigans as he wants to do multiple things just trying to get back home. From playing around and fighting dolls in a cursed dollhouse to ordering a sweet dish that’s quadruple his size (and another attack on my fave romantic trope depending on the dialogue choice) to getting KIDNAPPED BY A BIRD, it has all the trappings for a stupidly fun time with one of my favorite subjects. And the irony is, he asks you multiple times near the end if you would like to shrink as well sometime for a cute photoshoot amongst the flowers…and I currently have an OC dating him whose magic specialty is altering size, whether of objects or herself…

When it comes to the art, they really leaned on the Thumbelina inspiration for each image, and whether you want him resting pretty with a wand or relaxing with a pair of butterfly wings, if you like fairies, this is the card for you!

#1: Every Version of You (Learning UR+)

So this card from the Learning-themed Nightmare is my favorite. And while I will admit right now the art isn’t my favorite (I don’t hate it, but it’s more on the plain side with the collapsing books or the Demonus pong) and that some aspects feel a bit forced (specifically with the ending in the club), it’s honestly easy to ignore for me. I say this because the story that occurs is absolute perfection if you want character development for someone as perfection-obsessed as Asmodeus. The whole story revolves around a video of him studying going viral online, and because it doesn’t fit what he usually portrays as his image, he starts to worry that no one likes his personality anymore, and tries multiple avenues to try and give a new image to himself (and not like a CERTAIN #14). He tries, fails, and it’s only when a photo is snapped of him collapsing over a pile of tea reference books that he starts to realize that not only does he not need to change any aspect about himself, but that he needs to start showing the realm that he’s NOT always perfect. No matter whether he succeeds or fails at something, the fact that he’s doing his best is what’s most important at the end of the day. It revolves back around to the first UR he receives in this game. He isn’t a jewel of the heavens or even of all three realms just because he’s seen as perfect. It is because he’s determined, he’s passionate, he puts in the time to get the results he wants.

And that? That is one of the countless reasons why so many, including myself, see him as more dazzling than any gem a jeweler could offer. 

Alright, Day 3's contents are on the way! And this time? We'll be going into a bit into my head for our next wave~