#also my eye is twitching nonstop

[desolationlovers]

me waiting on my antidepressants for like a week a nd finally calling to ask about them bc they wont refill. hey can i have my Dont Kill Yourself pills please. oops sorry pharmacy still fresh out of pills🤗kill yourself. okay ❤️ yayy ❤️

[glitterjay]

hi can u do overstimulating enha hyung line 🤭

⭒ ovsertimulation, crying, praising, oet names, masturbation and head (m. receiving), denial or orgasm, various orgasms, sub!enha

⭒ c's note: ITS MY PLEASURE

⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin

heeseung is shaking, spasming as his dick is swollen and red. you're giving him the best head he has ever gotten in his life, but you're also being a menace. every time his moans get a lot higher and when his cock twitches in your mouth, you stop completely. you simply leave his dick with a pop, and he's desperately trying to get you to suck him off again to reach his high. it even comes to the point where he gets so sensitive his body is shaking nonstop, even your breath could make him cum.

jay.exe has stopped working. he's seeing stars on top of his head, his vision a little blurry either from tears or from the amount of rush going through his body at once. you told him he wasnt allowed to cum until you told him so, and he's been a good boy, but god he's about to explode. he's holding to that chair for dear life, the veins in his arms popping due to the amount of force he's using.

jake is a crying and whimpering mess. he has cummed more than twice by now and even two strokes could get him to cum again. he's gasping, hiccuping, begging you to spare him just once. he chokes on his own tears, desperately trying to get away from you and your hands, but he's so drained that all he can do is stay there like a loser.

sunghoon's head is thrown back as he hugs a pillow over it, muffling his sounds. you kept looking at him from your eyelashes as you deep throated his cock. his eyes rolled to the back of his head every time you gagged, and he cummed every time too. he's also crying, but you can't really see it because of the pillow, but you can definitely feel his hiccups through his dick.

© glitterjay | tumblr

[paddedlittleparadise]

Victoria Volunteers, Part Five

Be sure to check out Parts One, Two, Three, and Four!

No thinking. Good girls don't think. Good girls let go. Good girls relax. And you… are a good girl. A very good little girl…

The chorus of whispers – some in sultry feminine tones, others in now masculine rumbles – seeped out through the headphones and into the hapless woman's brain. How long she had been here in this medical facility, she no longer knew. She no longer knew much of anything, in fact – not even how many times she'd fallen into unconsciousness and then blinked back to confused reality. Besides, how could anyone think straight with all these voices echoing nonstop in their ears?

Little. Yes, a little girl. You're forgetting everything else… except that you're a good, obedient little girl. You've always been a little girl… so very good and little and obedient…

Was that the truth? Victoria's external struggles had ceased long before – the straitjacket and bonds had seen to that – but now a small, tired burst of resistance flared within her drowsy brain. No… adult. She was… adult. Young adult. And good girl…? Well, Daddy had called her that in years past. Mandy also liked to joke about her "little" sister. And so she… well, she kinda was? The voice… it might be right after all…

Little girls like you… they forget. They don't have to think… or remember… or do anything. They get to relax. Yes… relax. Let everything go. Everything. Their thoughts… their memories… their bodies…

Victoria twitched silently, her mind and body still struggling feebly against the regression programming. But she… she didn't want to forget… did she? Somewhere far off – in the faint corners of her mind – there seemed to be something about urgency. Something between her legs, deep in her belly. Something she had to do…

Good little girls… they always want to become good little babies. Yes, they do. So sweet, so cute, so adorable… You're a good little girl… and we know. We know how you long to be an even better baby… Because babies don't even know how to think. They can't. They just play… and sleep… and drink. They crawl and cry and coo… Their bodies don't obey them… They have no control, because they don't even know what control is…

Control. What… was this control about? Victoria was having trouble remembering amid the wash of sound. Whatever it was, it sounded hard. She was so tired after all this fighting. She just wanted it all to stop. To relax. To let everything fade away…

And you don't know either… do you? Of course you don't. You don't even understand the question anymore – and that's because you've become a little baby now. Oh, yes. You already have. No control… no thoughts… just relaxing every… single… muscle… Letting everything go…

Something slowly unclenched deep within her now. Victoria's bound body twitched involuntarily… but it was a primal reflex and nothing more. Her mind was drifting now: only vaguely aware in the dreamiest of ways of the trickling sensation between her legs… and practically oblivious to the warm, silently swelling bulk of the diaper as it drank in her first infantile accident.

–––

Above her, and unseen by Victoria's glazed eyes, a blue light winked. A moment later, it winked again. And then again… the only indication of the high-resolution camera mounted there, and which was effortlessly documenting this patient's first and most momentous foray into regression therapy.

Not that Victoria was aware of it, of course. Let alone that her image – as a bound, gagged, and diapered prisoner – was at that very moment flashing up on a monitor some three hundred miles away in her elder step-sister Mandy's office.

An image, it must be confessed, that brought a slow, satisfied smirk to Mandy's handsome face.

(The end – for now!)

Image Credit: ABDreams.com

Be sure to check out my Patreon or my Ream Stories if you want to read more of my naughty fiction!

[hysteria-things]

Hey girl so I’ve been watching the new Sam and Colby video and there’s A LOT of Matt edits of him being blindfolded so I wanted to ask only if your comfortable to write a smut story abt Matt being blindfolded and you do the rest ONLY IF YOUR COMFORTABLE NO PRESSURE

BLINDFOLD

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: matt’s usually the dom when it comes to sex, but what’ll happen if the tables are turned?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY, swearing, palming, blindfold, faux-sympathy, vibrator, oral (male receiving), p in v, overstimulation, unprotected sex (big no no!), cockwarming at the end

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 867

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i couldn’t think of a buildup so we’re just jumping in!

ALSO i promise more chris stuff is coming.

taking the red silk, you wrap the blindfold around your boyfriend’s head so it can cover his eyes. he’s grinning widely because he finally let you be in control. “what do you have in store, baby?” he says, smirking afterward. even though he can’t see you, he knows you’re enjoying this.

“you’ll see,” you reply, taking your nails and gently grazing them down his bare chest.

you’re straddling his lap, the only clothing on him is his underwear. you, however, still have your clothes on.

he’s starting to get hard, so you take your hand and start palming the bulge through his boxers. you hear his breath hitch, making you grin even wider.

he exhales out a long breath, his hands gripping the sheets below him.

you shimmy down his legs so your face is right in front of his crotch, still palming him when you leave kisses on his boner.

he moans softly, moistening his lips with his tongue. fuck he finds this so hot. “you’re already twitching, matthew. are you going to cum in your boxers? how cute.” you pout, his hips rutting upward.

“how do you like it? getting teased like this. doesn’t feel good, does it? poor matt, not so big and bad now. i’m going to be the one to make you moan my name tonight.” you squeeze his dick gently and he jolts. “am i right?”

he nods frantically. “y-yes. you—“ he’s cut off with a whine, his hot cum seeping through the fabric, leaving a wet stain dead center.

he takes a deep breath once the air hits his dick, that you let spring free from the boxer’s grasp. because of his orgasm, it’s wet all around his tip and base. you take your hand, moving it up and down on him. “f-fuck.” he whispers, mouth hanging open as you keep moving your hand.

you find a box under your bed — the box where your vibrator is. you take it out, placing it on his red and swollen tip.

his brows furrow. “what’s that— o-oh.” he’s cut off with a moan when the low vibration runs through his body. with your hand and the vibe, he’s internally going crazy.

you circle the tip with the bullet, looking at his face as it keeps contorting into different expressions of pleasure. you remove your hand, replacing it with your mouth.

sloppily wrapping your mouth around his shaft, you can taste the remains of his first orgasm. then, you start to lick his tip. “f-fuck!” he exclaims, grabbing onto your hair. not tight, but enough to keep you there. “o-oh my— god, y/n.”

he starts to squirm beneath you, thrusting slightly onto your tongue. you’re still kitty-licking him, smirking when you see pre-cum start to leak out.

removing your mouth, you turn the vibrator on high. he moans loudly, and you’re straddling his lap once again. you give an opened mouth kiss, matt moaning nonstop in your mouth. “do you like the way you taste?”

“mhm.” he mumbles, sweat trickling from his forehead and on his chest. “cumming! i-i’m cumming, baby.”

he pulls away to throw his head back, moaning into the air once his release shoots out of his dick.

you turn the vibrator off, giving him time to catch his breath once you get off of his lap. “w-where’d you go?” he pants.

“over here,” you say at the foot of the bed, undressing yourself slowly. he’s so far into submission, and you want to admire that while you can.

once you’re fully nude, you crawl on top of him and align yourself. you gasp the more you place yourself on him, both moaning once you’re full. you grind your hips slowly, leaning in to kiss his jaw. “my pretty boy.” you say lowly, matt grabbing your hips.

“p-please ride me,” he begs, whimpering once you start to bounce fast in his cock.

he knows it’s a lot for him, but it feels so good. his head is fuzzy, the only thought in there is the way you clamp down on him, your whines and moans filling his ears. “y/n, i-it’s too much.”

“just be patient, baby, okay?” you say soothingly, caressing his cheek. “you’re doing great.”

you curse under your breath when you feel yourself cum all over him. “you feel that, pretty boy? you feel me creaming on your cock?”

“uh huh.” he says hoarsely, his voice becoming weak. “please let me cum inside you. p-please.”

he whines, his dick twitching from overstimulation. the way your walls feel has him whimpering over and over. he loves the way you squeeze around him whether he’s on top or not.

his body shakes, ropes of white cum painting your walls white. you stop, still in position once you take the blindfold off.

matt’s eyes blink at the sudden sight, his bottom lip quivering and his eyes filled with tears. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in as close as you can get.

he lays flatly on the bed, his arms wrapped around your waist. you cockwarm him, not having the stamina to lift yourself. as time goes by, you guys quickly fall asleep in each other’s hold.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07

[xazse]

im in heat (ovulating) and I jus can't stop thinking about scaramouche helping his lil bunny out when shes in heat:(

love ur content btw, I literally shit myself when I found out u also wrote for jjk.. can I kiss u platonically

SCARAMOUCHE X FEM!BUNNYGIRLREADER

Notes: This is for you<3 and I’m glad you liked my jjk readings, (ofc you can have a platonic kiss!!!) HOPE YOU ENJOY<33

Tags: Smut all around! Tit-sucking, mentions of blowjobs, hybrid!reader, Heats

Pairings: SCARAMOUCHE X FEM!BUNNYGIRLREADER

You’ve been downright annoying, constantly bugging him with your insatiable behavior, whether it’s you gripping onto him for him to stay in bed with you, or it’s you rubbing yourself on him at night trying to stir him awake.

He doesn’t know what’s wrong with you, after another evening of you interrupting his private time he’s done. He takes you to the on site doctor, it doesn’t take 20 minutes before the doctor automatically says you’re in a “heat” since Scaramouche is confused the doctor gathers this must be your first one. He says that whatever needs you may be whining about can either be fulfilled or he can leave you to some specialists he knows, Scaramouche agaisnt that and just takes you back.

He’s taken a week off just for you, you should be happy for him to rot in this room with you constantly in his face, and you are, you show that in a tenthfold.

The first day is spent with you pawing at him and urging him to remove his clothing and yours as well. He can admit it is a little cute to see you beg.

Precise hands slip off your panties, you’re hot to the touch and absolutely dripping, poor bunny being denied for so long due to his confusion. His fingers slip into your cunt and begin fingering you, you’re positioned on your back with both legs spread out wide. Your small plush tail is twitching everytime he plunges his fingers deep into you, hearing small whimpers leaving your throat. His fingers are relentless with their assault on your sensitive insides, he makes sure to press on your spot every so often, sending you into a flurry of sexual emotions.

When he continues, he’s just surprised at the amount of cum coating his hands, the copious amount of slick close to his wrist. You look like you’re on cloud nine, glossed eyes, glossy lips covered in your drool is making him throb.

He quickly unbuttons his pants, letting his fat cock free. He uses his cum covered hand and coats his cock generously, you start to mewl at the loss of his fingers, already attempting to sit up he pushes you to lay back down.

“Relax woman” he scoffs out, your eyes wind down to the way he’s stroking himself, getting off to just the needy expression on your face, you take it a step further by lifting up your shirt, you didn’t even bother with a bra today. This really does the trick and he pounces onto you, so quick to line his cock up with your hole.

A few minutes later and he’s balls deep inside of you, your legs are wrapped around his torso, arms wrapped around his neck and your loud moans going right into his ear. His hips are moving so fast, cock bullying into you, you’re stuffed to the brim: yelping about how good it feels, how much you love him, it’s not long before your entire body pulls him closer and your cumming all around him.

The days afterwards are so dizzying, sex is all that plagues your mind, the room ends up being so hot, so sweaty, all you can think about is the thick cock filling you up, cumming inside you nonstop. Once he’d grabbed your tall ears while you were sucking him off, your fingers wildly rubbing your clit, and you let out the loudest Moan, you slumped against him, panting open mouthed: signaling that you just came for the 2nd time that random night.

The make-out sessions were just as dirty, it was mainly scara shoving his tongue down your throat, holding you by the wrists tight so you couldn’t pull back from it. He barely gave you time to take a break to breathe, lewd slurping sounds resonate through the room.

Scara also pleasures you by sucking on your breasts, though most times the stimulation isn’t there, but with your heat it’s at an all time high, your fingers tightens into his hair, urging him to not stop sucking.

[planetpedri]

About you — Pablo Gavi.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’d been two months since Gavi asked out Lucia, two months since you’d talked to him. Two long, dreadful months. But the no contact hadn’t lasted any longer, because when the clock hit 11:40, Gavi was standing outside your door in the pouring rain, begging to talk.

Word count: 860

Disclaimer/s: this is a part two to Casual ! Angst to a hopeful ending.

A/N: this is sooo long overdue apologies..

Your house was deadly silent as you paced around, the only sound emitting throughout it was the thunder outside. Your deadline for a transfer request was in an hour, and you couldn’t make up your mind. You needed to escape, to get far away from this city. From him. But a small part of you just couldn’t make up your mind.

On one hand, the transfer to Paris gave you tons of new opportunities, but that also meant leaving all your family to live in a country you didn’t know. On the other.. that meant you could start over. Live a life free of Pablo, free of torment, and most of all, it gave you time to yourself.

As if could ever truly be free from him. As if you could ever forget him.

Twenty minutes. You had twenty minutes to accept. Hesitantly walking toward the computer, the screen shining brightly, showing the two emails you’d typed out. One accepting, the other declining.

You lick your lips, reaching toward the send button, when a knock sounds at your door. Jumping slightly, you turn around, facing the wooden door in surprise.

Without thinking, your feet move for you, dragging you toward it. Your hands too move for you, unlocking and opening the door.

In front of you is someone who’d been on your mind nonstop for years, more-so in the last few months. He was drenched from head to toe, his hoodie clinging to him as the light grey had long since turned dark. He looked like a wet puppy. How long had he been standing there?

He says your name, urgent and afraid. “Please don’t go.”

Please don’t go.

Confusion flashes across your face, how did he even find out? “What?” You choke out, heart pounding in your chest. “How—get inside. You’re going to get pneumonia.” You grumble, swinging the door wide open and stepping aside.

Pablo does as told, taking hesitant steps into the warmth of your entry way. The door had only just clicked shut when he begins to speak again, “There is so much I want to say to you, but first, I need to say i’m sorry.” He’s breathing heavily, as if he’d just run a marathon.

Mouth opening to speak, to insist he shut up, you’re the one being shut down. “No! Let me get it out! Lucia and I—we broke up. Well, she broke up with me. Said, ‘I couldn’t love her when I still clearly loved you.’ And I realized then how badly I fucked things over. Because,” he sucks in a deep breath, whispering your name like it was the most delicate thing in the world, “fuck, I love you. I love you, and i’m sorry I couldn’t admit that till I already fucked things up.”

Your mouth opens and closes for what must’ve been a hundred times, stunned by his sudden confession. “Pablo—“

“Please, don’t go to Paris. I can’t let you get away again. I need you here. I need you to stay.” His eyebrows scrunch together as he looks at you, “I need you.” He says it slowly, making sure you latched on to every syllable.

With your chest rising and falling in uneven intervals, your eyes flicker across his face. He’s desperate, like losing you would physically end him. A look only comparable to when he’d torn his ACL.

“Oh, fuck.” You groan, “oh fuck you. Why are you doing this to me? After all this time—why when i’m just about to move on. Why couldn’t you do this before I figured my shit out.”

“Because I was—I am stupid. I’m an idiot, but i’m here now. I’m here, in front of you, begging you to stay.” He pleads with his eyes, with his hands, that were twitching at his sides, trying not to hold you, with his voice.. “I’ll get on my knees, i’ll do anything. Just please, please stay.”

Closing your eyes for a moment, you try to think logically. You try to think about how much you wanted this for so long, but also how badly he’d hurt you.. Do you trust your head or your heart?

But at the end of the day, the heart always won.

“Okay.” You finally say, nodding your head slowly. “I’ll stay.” You glance at the clock on the wall a few feet away, it was 12:01. “Not like I had a choice, the deadline just passed.”

Pablo lets out a sigh of relief, one that had your eyes narrowing. “Don’t sound too upset about it.” You quip, though your voice lacked amusement.

“Sorry.” He mumbles. “So—“

“You make my life so difficult.” Grumbling, you motion for him to follow you, “you need to take a warm shower, i’ll find you something to change into. I do not want to get a cold because of you.”

With a little pep in his step, Pablo trails behind you. “Okay, so what does this mean? Am I forgiven or..”

“Well, no! But you’re getting there.” You reply simply, knowing deep down he’d been forgiven the moment he uttered those five words. ‘I love you, i’m sorry.’

I just tagged everyone who asked for a part two, apologies ^_^

DTS , @halfwayhearted @pabl0andm3 @gadriezmannsgirl @spidybaby @alexis1taylorr @htpssgavi

[meowordeath]

Howdy! Is it alright if I ask for you to make a continuation of the “Characters reacting to reader’s clothing ripping”? And possibly with Edgar Valden, Mike Morton and whatever others you’d like?

Identity V characters reacting to their s/o clothes getting ripped! part 2 :3

w/ Edgar Valden & Mike Morton !

A/N : I really hope I didn’t write them too ooc, also sorry this took forever.

content warnings - sfw, mentions of blood, Bane, Violetta, fluff

Edgar Valden

You had been kiting for most of the match trying your best to keep the hunter, who is bane, away from Helena. You were provoke emoting at him which was just angering him.

If Bane could talk you don’t even want to guess what he’d say. “Surprised even with all those traps you still can’t catch me!” You provoke, he grunts angrily at you swiping his hook.

Using your sprint you duck behind a pallet. right behind that Edgar was there pallet stunning him, getting his face in the process.

“How unsightly, a rouge animal.” Edgar says to Bane as he begins painting his face. You and Edgar kite side by side a moment.

“Shouldn’t you be decoding?” You ask pulling him out of the way of Banes hook. “You came to my cipher.” He says bluntly as he finishes his painting.

He quickly placed it down. “Since you don’t want my assistance i’ll go decode.” He feins a somber tone as he rushes off.

Finally after letting 4 ciphers pop and putting trap quite literally everywhere, Bane downed you. He picked you up angrily and slamming you down into the chair.

When he slammed down the harness carelessly, not listening as you curse at him in pain.

“Cipher Machine Primed!” Helena’s voice could heard shouting out. Edgar was sprinting towards you, narrowly missing Bane’s hook.

And when he went to pulled up on the harness it didn’t lift up as usual. “It’s stuck..!” He says struggling against with the harness.

Your top had gotten enclosed when Bane carelessly chaired you, with one final tug Edgar got it up. It tore your shirt, nothing inappropriate was exposed thankfully.

Before Edgar could apologize Banes hook, which usually latched onto your clothes bit into you ripping your skin.

He downed you again. The cipher quickly popped, you get back up running away. Edgar put down his final painting escaping from Bane’s view with you.

You could hear banes angry growl. crouched down beside a wall Edgar look at your bleeding wound. “I’m sorry.. if only I had been more careful, his hook wouldn’t have taken a chunk of your skin like that.” He sounded so remorseful.

“It’s not your fault, the costumes they give out aren’t great quality anyways..!” You comfort him patting his hand.

“Hey on the bright side at least you didn’t expose me in any type of way.” You joke, he laughed lightly. “If I had don’t worry, I wouldn’t have let that animal see you.” And you believed that, especially with his loving gaze.

Mike Morton

Mike begged you to watch him practice some tricks outside, you really didn't want to since the last time you had watch him practice you had been hit in the face with one of his muddy bombs.

“Please, please, please, please” He says following you around hands clasped. He’d been saying it nonstop it was starting to not sound like a real word.

You turn around hands slamming down on his shoulders. “Mike, my dear Mike.” You say with a slight twitch in your eye.

He did bother listening to your refusal. “My dearest s/o, please come see this cool trick I've been practicing!” He said with a grin.

Mike was tugging you toward an empty room, which he had the help of Marg to turn into a practice room. “Now the thing about this cool and totally awesome trick is I need a partner” He gave you a smile.

“No way, your gonna have to find someone else to do it. I don't have a flexible bone in my body” You say trying to escape.

He quickly wrapped himself around you, quite literally koala attaching himself to you. “No wait, please! I tried practicing with Marg but I thought my performance would be better if it was with my sweet, handsome, beautiful, stunning-”

“Buttering me up isn’t gonna be enough to convince me, to allow you, to throw me around.” You push against him but it was like he was glued to you.

He just whined like a child, begging you. “Fine, one trick!” Too tired to argue against him you give in. Mike lets out a cheer, untangling his limbs from you.

“You have to get into some different clothes though” He turns to grab something, before holding out a similar acrobatic spandex outfit to his own. “Look we’ll have matching costumes!”

You sigh, taking the outfit going to change into it. “I have no Idea how you wear your acrobat costume in matches, it is tight in all the wrong places”

“Well I’ve been doing acrobatics for years now so I'm used to it. Now come on I’ll walk you through it, step by step, don’t worry!” He grins hands on your waist.

He did keep to his word walking you slowly through each move. It was easy to understand, still didn’t make your body any more flexible.

When it came to do the trick in real time you had messed up and Mike's hand placement in the wrong place.

In attempt to stop you from falling on your head Mike gripped tightly onto the tight spandex material. A tear sound echoed around the room as well as the sound of you also hitting the floor.

Mike quickly covered his eyes standing frozen holding like half the costume. "I swear I didn't see anything!" He still has his hand over his eyes, and a bright red blush on his face.

You give a weak glare up at him. "I am never doing acrobatics with you again Mike." He just nods still covering his red face.

I honestly am not very happy with Mikes but I tired. This isn't proofread

[sunsents]

neteyam sully - beautiful boy

This is the fluffiest thing I've ever written. I'm on my period and very emotional.

➵ summary: Neteyam's beauty renders you speechless, you can't help but gawk at him.

➵ pairing: neteyam x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

➵ word count: 990

➵ warnings: pure, teeth rotting fluff. it's so sweet that even I was embarrassed while writing it. reader is literally just pining after him like an idiot and doing nothing else. reader is a simp.

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

"Will you stop it?"

"But you're just so pretty,"

Sat snugly on Neteyam's lap, you're tracing his facial features with a gentle finger. Your mate, frustrated and flushed - a combo you've come to adore after years of knowing him - keeps swatting at your hand and grumbling lowly.

You can't help it though, he's just so pretty. The type of pretty you stare at for hours without getting enough of it, no matter how much you trace and retrace his facial features with wandering eyes. The type of pretty that has you questioning how, or rather who allowed him to be this beautiful. The inquiries are daily and, nonstop - Eywa's likely fed up with you bending your neck at the sky and letting out a muffled scream of misery. 

Because Neteyam was a hurting kind of pretty - like he was incapable of making a facial expression that made him look even a tinge bit ugly, and this hurt your chest. Squeezed your heart until it shriveled and let out a pent, 'Enough, no more'. Worst of it all, you were free to touch. Free to look, free to fondle, and free to love. He was your mate, after all.  

This thought brought you immense joy every waking hour of the day.

So, he should cut you some slack. You were allowed to trace his facial features, because he looks like that, and he needs to be marveled at and cooed at. 

"I'm not pretty," he grumbles and squeezes your side in an effort to make you stop. It's useless, you're going nowhere. This is where you'll be spending the rest of your years, growing old and all that. Right between his arms. "I'm handsome and mighty!"

"Sure, you're all those. But you're also," you lean close to his ear, "pretty..." 

Neteyam grumbles all the same but stays still when you return to tracing his romanesque nose. His eyes are closed and you can't help but stare at his lashes - dark and long, kissing his cheeks. "I can never say no to you, can I?"

You smile, deciding to stay silent. You both know the answer, Neteyam would jump into a fire if you asked nicely.

So, with this in mind, you give him the softest kisses - peppering them on his smooth cheeks tenderly. His face is truly gorgeous and right in front of you; you can't help but kiss his lips. It's tame but drawn out, a press of lips as Neteyam stays completely still. (Which is a struggle for him since your mate always has to be doing something useful with himself.) You feel him smile against your lips, and a big, warm hand closes around your nape. His beautiful lashes - the ones you were admiring just moments ago - flutter against your cheek.

Neteyam likes to look. Not as much as you, but he had the strange habit of opening his eyes mid-kiss. You don't know how this action became a habit of his, but you're sure it was between the periods of I want to hold your hand longer, and I think I'm in love with you.  It would have been weird if you opened your eyes as well, but your heart never allowed you to. It's surprising you even noticed him doing this since you melt into pudgy goo whenever his lips touch you. So curse Neteyam's long and perfect eyelashes, it's hard not to notice them when they flutter softly against your cheek and tickle your heart. 

You pull away to which he whines, then continue your tracing. The tip of your pointer finger lingers on the curve of his lips - another feature you absolutely adore. His lip twitches and your finger moves to his bottom lip, pulling it down to watch it bounce back. The scene drives you crazy - causes your mind to reel. 

His lips are plush and soft, and his skin is oh-so pliant under your body. Your hand cups the sides of his face, massaging his temples. Neteyam hums and wraps his tail around your waist possessively. "Feels good," his eyes flutter shut again, letting you knead at his face. You try to be as gentle as possible, yet determined to make full use of this moment your mate has allowed you.

You feel the need to knead and smooth over every inch of his body so somehow - hopefully - the ache to just settle into his entire being and live there for the rest of your life is soothed. And the ache scares you.

The intensity of your love scares you because sometimes you feel like you cannot breathe. Neteyam has that effect on you - stealing your breath away with a kind smile and not even being apologetic about it. He's not even aware of his effect on you, and you think that only makes him more guilty. 

Punishing him is fun though - peppering kisses all over his face so he's unable to catch his breath as well, serves him right. You don't stop your kissing, out of breath and flushed. 

"Stop!" Neteyam laughs breathily, trying to push you away. He catches your face between his palms and harshly kisses your lips. Like a kiss a young child would share with a crush, only to run away, giggling, because ewww. 

You scrunch your nose, mumbling protests against his mouth. "You stop!"

He pulls away with a grin - and, oh Eywa. You're truly done for.

"I love you, so much. I could stay here all day, even if people come looking for us. Even if Eywa wills it herself for us to separate. I'm never letting you go, my love." he casually hums as he wraps his arms around you again, pressing you into his chest. So casual that you're baffled, looking up at him through your eyelashes with your lips parted. You feel your heart melting, sliding off from your parted lips and into his palms, snugly finding a new home in his hold.

[cozy-cinnamon-roll]

A Princess' Guide to Interrogating a Radio Demon

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Ler!Charlie, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)

Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, interrogation (in the most playful sense). If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige.

This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.

This is my first fic for Hazbin Hotel, so any feedback would be welcomed and deeply appreciated! (also, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future work - I'm quite sure this'll be FAR from my last fic for this fandom hehe)

Hope you enjoy!

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Ever since he'd discovered glam metal, Angel has been blasting it nonstop from his room.

Unfortunately, his room happens to be directly beneath Alastor's... and the insulation in the hotel's walls leaves an awful lot to be desired. The Radio Demon's eye had been in a constant twitch for three days by the time he'd finally had enough.

"Alastor? Have you seen Angel's speakers?"

--------------------------------------------------------------

When Charlie appears in his doorway, the demon in question is sitting comfortably on his couch, sipping a mug of black coffee and reading a newspaper (though Charlie isn't sure how he acquired it - the local paper has been out of print for weeks).

"No. But I've certainly had the displeasure of hearing them."

"They've gone missing. Do you have any idea where they might be?"

"Far away, I hope."

Charlie rolls her eyes and leaves to go consult the other guests. The deer takes a long draw from his mug.

--------------------------------------------------------------

To Alastor's slight irritation, he only enjoys a few minutes of peace before the princess' voice echoes from the hall again.

"Oooh, Al...." Charlie sings.

"What is it, my dear?" the Radio Demon sings back absently.

"Nifty says she saw you with Angel's speakers yesterday."

"Did she?" He flips a page of his newspaper.

"Look, all I need to know is where you put them."

Long pause. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

"Alastor."

"Whaaat?" Though his eyes haven't left the page, his grin has widened slightly. "You think I'm lying?"

"You're always lying. That's your thing."

"...Touché."

Charlie perches on the sofa beside him.

"Are you gonna tell me where it is or not?"

"Fine. I'll be completely honest with you."

She perks up.

"I would honestly die a second death before subjecting myself to one more note of that infernal garbage."

Alastor's eyes flick up from his paper for the briefest of seconds, just to watch the bubbly princess' face fall into a delightfully exasperated scowl.

"You can't steal someone's stuff just because it annoys you!"

"On the contrary. That's exactly what I did."

Charlie narrows her eyes. "Alastor. You tell me where Angel's speakers are or else."

Alastor chuckles in spite of himself - Charlie's attempts to be intimidating never fail to amuse him.

"What's so funny about that?"

"My dear, I say this with the utmost respect and admiration for your many talents: there's a reason I tend to be the one called upon to scare off demonic threats."

Charlie huffs and crosses her arms. "Just because you're creepier and... more sadistic than me, doesn't mean I don't have ways of making you talk."

"Oh?" Alastor arches a skeptical eyebrow at his paper.

"So you better watch your step, Mister."

"Hmm. You make a compelling case." He flips another page. "Maybe I should tell you where Angel's poor excuse for music is."

Charlie brightens. "Really?"

"No."

The princess deflates.

He's right, of course: even if Charlie figures out a way to make herself legitimately threatening to the Radio Demon... he's the fucking Radio Demon. She may be the Princess of Hell, but she doesn't want to have to rebuild the hotel from rubble all over again.

The two sit in impassive silence for a few minutes - Charlie glaring at Alastor, Alastor staring stubbornly at his paper - until she finally stifles a sigh and slouches against the cushions. He's enjoying this, she just knows it. Sitting there with that stupid grin. He's probably been laughing to himself all night, imagining poor Angel waking up and finding his most prized possession missing.

She finds herself wishing she could make the old deer laugh himself sick sometime, just to teach him a lesson.

...Which is a horrible thought! Charlie's eyes widen, her brow furrowing in self-disgust. She could never bring herself to hurt Alastor, even via laughter.

In fact, she quite likes his laugh - it's a little maniacal, sure, and certainly hard to truly enjoy amid the gory contexts that typically trigger it. But if she knew a way to make him laugh at something other than another person's expense, she'd probably do it all the time... it's just that the things that make him laugh also tend to make Charlie nauseous.

Once again, the princess finds herself completely baffled by her own subjects. How one could be so tickled by anything that goes on down here - the pain, the violence, the gore...

Charlie tilts her head. She may have just gotten an idea.

--------------------------------------------------------------

If Alastor had happened to cast a quick glance down the couch, the smile creeping across Charlie's face would've been enough to give him real pause.

But since he is instead stubbornly focused on his paper, he is completely unprepared for the fingers that suddenly begin crawling oh-so-gently up his side.

To her initial disappointment, Charlie finds at least three layers of fabric dampening her touch, and aside from a subtle flinch at first contact, Alastor himself remains perfectly still.

But then a low buzz of radio static swells around them. As she probes up his ribs, she can hear a soft crinkle of paper as his grip tightens.

"Charlie..." His voice is oddly clipped.

"Mm?" Charlie takes one glance at his face, and her smile deepens - even Alastor's signature grin can't mask the effect. He's still technically staring at the paper, but his eyes have gone wide and blank. He opens his mouth to continue just as her fingers reach his armpit - and his jaw quickly clamps shut. It's clearly taking everything in him not to squirm.

"Got something to say, Al?" She starts pinching back down his ribcage.

"Mmph!" The giggles start in his chest, bubbling up and fighting to escape through clenched teeth. Soon his shoulders are shaking with the effort of holding them in.

"...Maybe about the location of a certain object?"

No response. The radio demon just curls forward a little, hiding his face in his paper.

Taking advantage of this new posture, Charlie slips her other arm around behind him, and gives a good pinch to both sides of his slender waist.

The demon straightens right back up with an audible gasp and tiny squeak of surprise (that he quickly tries to cover with a cough).

"Charlie! Are you s-seriously trying to-"

"Are you seriously ticklish?"

"No!"

In response she delivers another series of pinches to the same spot. His posture crumples again, until finally he loses his grip on his paper and twists to face her.

"No?" she giggles. And squeezes him again.

"Stop that!" He fumbles at her fingers, trying to pry them off his sides.

Instead Charlie swaps her hands, wrapping her fingers around his waist with both thumbs resting lightly on his stomach... and begins digging them right under his lower ribs.

That finally does it. He flinches back with a little snort, followed by soft but utterly helpless giggles pressed shyly into his hands.

"Awww!" Charlie coos.

"Keheh- f-fuckin'- heheh! - quiet!" His voice cracks amusingly on the last word.

There are about fifteen different things Charlie is dying to say as Alastor goes to pieces with laughter, but she can't think of anything that wouldn't risk embarrassing the poor guy - and humiliating him is the last thing she wants to do. The fact that Alastor hasn't instantly dissolved into shadows (or cursed her across the room) hasn't been lost on the princess; she is NOT about to jeopardize this moment by making him uncomfortable enough to do so.

That said, she is conducting an interrogation here.

"What was that about not being ticklish?"

His clutching at her wrists becomes more frantic. "Don't-!"

Alastor hyperventilates a couple times, trying to get ahold of himself - but then she continues squeezing down the sides of his belly, and he can only collapse into even worse laughter.

"I think I know just how to get you to talk..."

"Nohoho- ahagh, Charlie! Shihihit!"

Charlie shifts onto her knees for better leverage, gives him a gentle push backward, and pins him (surprisingly easily) against the couch. Her snaggle-toothed grin looms over him...

For a split-second, Alastor gets a flash of what his victims must've seen moments before they debuted on his show.

But he's pretty sure this isn't quite how they felt about it. He's already shaking with anticipatory giggles, grinning back at her wider than ever. And the giddy panic behind his eyes quickly forms an unlikely union with defiance.

"Do your worst, my dear."

--------------------------------------------------------------

To be continued... pt. II is already in the works, so stay tuned!!

Until next time - hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💕

💜 - Cozy

[sav-not-tav]

Okay but what about Rolan having a crush on Tav but he wants to figure out if they would ever be interested in him so he cast a spell to make him look like someone else to dig up information (I think he would embarrassedly as the companion and they would be on board)

But, turns out Tav clocked it was Rolan by things that he does and decides to mess with him. (Tav likes him but he should be messed with for being sneaky)

Thoughts?

Oh, anon. This popped up on my phone while I was in the mountains and did not have enough signal to respond—so I have been stewing on it nonstop since then.

asdhbfzgld I love this. Rolan is definitely the type to try to be sneaky about his feelings and use magic to get his way. I also think he'd be so tunnel-visioned with his goal that he'd forget to ask the right questions or learn even the tiniest bits of context, such as if the companion he transforms into is already in a relationship ;)

I was so excited to answer this one! Ugh, what a cute prompt. This one got long.

Rolan’s nerves are on edge. After the fall of the Netherbrain, the city had been wrought with chaos, and he has not seen Tav since before the final battle. Now, a tenday later, the "Heroes of the Gate" have decided to celebrate their victory at the Elfsong Tavern. Rolan only knows due to Lakrissa sharing the details of the impending event with Lia. Though he feels a pang of disappointment at not receiving an invite, it seems the perfect opportunity for him to finally learn if Tav harbors any feelings for him. His crush has lingered since the events at Last Light Inn, only growing after they dealt with Lorroakan. He simply can’t bear the uncertainty any longer.

After an awkward conversation with Gale, who was surprisingly supportive, Rolan began working on tweaks to the Disguise Self spell. After many days of nonstop effort, Rolan finally successfully adjusts the spell to allow him control over how the transformation looks. The familiar form of Gale takes over his own in the mirror, and he practices Gale’s mannerisms, determined to pull off the deception.

Entering the bustling tavern, Rolan spots Tav by the bar. Taking a deep breath, he approaches with what he hopes is Gale’s calm, thoughtful demeanor. “Tav, may I have a word?”

Tav looks up with a friendly smile. “Of course, Gale. What’s on your mind?”

Sat in a private booth in the corner of the Elfsong, he manages polite conversation, dodging questions about the other companions he has had no way of answering. Tav asks about Tara’s whereabouts and Shadowheart’s health, and Rolan deflects with vague comments and nods, trying to maintain Gale’s composed exterior. After a believable amount of small talk, Rolan starts with subtle probing.

“That Rolan was a great help at the final battle. Have you spoken with him at all since then? I do wonder if we'll see him this evening.”

Tav’s responses are thoughtful, but their lips hold a playful twitch at the corners. “Rolan? Oh, yes. Very helpful." They lean in slightly, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Hmm. Maybe he’ll turn up eventually... he’s been quite busy, I'm sure.”

Rolan feels a growing unease, sensing they know something is off but not letting on. The way Tav’s gaze lingers on him makes his pulse quicken. Just as he is about to steer the conversation back to safer ground, suddenly too nervous to go through with his plans, Tav’s demeanor shifts.

“Gale, you seem different tonight. Nervous, almost. More... attentive.” Tav’s voice takes on a teasing lilt, their eyes narrowing playfully. “You wouldn’t happen to be hiding something, would you?”

Rolan’s heart pounds and he finds himself unable to summon a response. He simply laughs off the accusation, folding his arms across his chest defensively. Then Tav starts flirting outright. They lean closer, their smile turning mischievous. “You know, Gale, if you keep showing me this extra attention... I might begin to think you have a crush on me.”

Rolan’s mind races as his heart pounds. “A crush? Of course not,” he stammers nervously, feeling his cheeks burn.

Tav’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “Oh, no? A shame, then...” They pout teasingly, their playful demeanor making Rolan’s stomach ache. As they reach under the booth and place a hand atop his knee, he feels suddenly both giddy and sick.

The teasing and flirtatious comments directed at "Gale" make Rolan's heart sink. Is Tav interested in Gale? How has he not realized that after all this time? He tries to keep his composure, but his discomfort grows with each passing second. Tav’s laughter, though light and pleasant, feels like a dagger twisting in his chest.

Feeling misunderstood and heartbroken, Rolan makes an excuse and leaves the Elfsong Tavern early. “I just remembered I have something to attend to. Please, excuse me.” He hurries out, his heart heavy with disappointment and confusion, convinced he has misread everything and that Tav’s affections lay elsewhere. He quickly finds himself back at Ramazith's Tower, head hung low as he dispels the transformation and makes his way to the wine cellar.

~~~

Tav arrives at the Elfsong Tavern, ready to celebrate their hard-fought victory alongside their companions. The atmosphere is lively, filled with laughter and music. As they make their way through the bustling crowd, Tav notices Shadowheart arriving with someone unfamiliar. Tav finds it odd, considering Shadowheart and Gale had become close at the end of their journey. Even though they aren’t publicly "together" yet, it seems strange for the cleric to show up with someone else.

As Tav approaches to greet them, Shadowheart’s behavior is even stranger. She avoids eye contact and offers short, evasive answers when asked for an introduction to the new man. This piques Tav’s curiosity even more.

Just as Tav gives up and leaves to get a drink, Gale appears, greeting them with a casual, “Tav, may I have a word?”

Tav turns, surprised to see him looking so content, given the unfamiliar man Shadowheart has arrived with. “Of course, Gale. What’s on your mind?”

They move to a private booth in the corner, and Tav can’t shake the feeling that something is off. Gale is evading their questions about Tara, and when they subtly probe about Shadowheart, he avoids the topic. Gale then begins asking odd questions, particularly about Rolan, of all people.

Tav’s responses are thoughtful, but they can’t hide their amusement. They know Gale well enough to sense that something is different. They watch closely as he picks at the hem of his tunic, bounces a leg nervously under the table, and chews on his lip. He displays clear signs of distress, nervous ticks Gale had never once shown on the road.

“Gale, you seem different tonight. Nervous, almost. More... attentive.” Tav’s voice takes on a teasing lilt, their eyes narrowing playfully. “You wouldn’t happen to be hiding something, would you?”

Tav watches as he laughs nervously, folding his arms across his chest. The discomfort is palpable. Deciding to push further, Tav leans closer, their smile turning mischievous. “You know, Gale, if you keep showing me this extra attention... I might begin to think you have a crush on me.”

Seeing “Gale” stammer and blush confirms Tav’s suspicions. “A crush? Of course not,” he manages nervously. Tav glances across the tavern, catching a glimpse of Shadowheart and her "new" beau laughing happily at the bar. Their body language is quite familiar as they lean into each other, and Tav realizes the same could be said of the man opposite them, just in a different way.

Tav and Gale had already been down this road, once. They'd agreed very early on that they were better only as friends, and as the rest of Tav's companions seemed to pair up and find love elsewhere, Tav had been left as the odd one out. Others, such as one particular Master of Ramazith's Tower, would not know this, however. The nervous movements and slight lisp that Tav has failed to notice until now give him away. They decide to play into this knowledge, seeing just how flustered "Gale" could get.

Tav’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “Oh, no? A shame, then...” They pout teasingly, enjoying his flushed reaction. As they reach under the booth and place a hand atop his knee, feeling him squirm, they feel a mix of giddiness and amusement at how easy it is to unravel the façade.

The act seems to have worked too well. He looks genuinely pained, and his discomfort visibly grows with each passing second. Tav’s playful teasing and laughter, meant to be light-hearted, seem to cut deeper than intended.

When “Gale” abruptly makes an excuse and leaves the Elfsong Tavern early, Tav feels a pang of guilt. They watch him hurry out, his posture defeated and his heart clearly heavy. Tav realizes they might have pushed too far. Determined to set things right, they decide to follow him.

Soon, they arrive at Ramazith’s Tower through the portal in Sorcerous Sundries. They are met by Rolan in the foyer, a bottle of Arabellan Dry in hand. The spell has dropped, and Rolan is back in his normal form, but he is still wearing the same clothes from the tavern. The sight of him, looking so dejected, tugs at Tav’s heart.

"Rolan," Tav says gently, approaching him. “I knew it was you.”

Rolan looks up, stunned. “The whole time?”

“Well, not the whole time.” Tav smiles softly. “But I figured it out pretty quickly. Gale and Shadowheart are... a bit of a thing.”

"Ah. He... did not share that with me." Rolan sighs, his face holding a mix of relief and embarrassment. He sucks in a deep breath before steadying himself, seeming resolute. “I just... Tav, I have not been able to stop thinking of you. Since Last Light, and then Lorroakan, you have plagued my thoughts. After... everything. I needed to know if you felt anything for me.”

Tav steps closer, their expression tender. “I’ve liked you for a while. You could have just asked.”

Rolan blinks, processing their words. “You mean... all this time, you...?”

Tav nods, a gentle smile playing on their lips. “Yes, Rolan. All this time. You didn’t need to go through all this trouble.”

Rolan’s posture relaxes, the tension visibly leaving his body. He takes a tentative step closer, his eyes searching Tav’s, seeming to look for any sign of hesitation. Tav offers none, and he lets out a breath so shuddery it wracks his shoulders.

“I’m sorry for being so foolish,” he murmurs, his voice trembling slightly. “I just didn’t know how to approach you.”

Tav’s smile widens. “Well, now you know.” They close the remaining distance between them, their hand gently cupping Rolan’s cheek. “And next time, just be yourself.”

[fieldofdaisiies]

In canon. Azriel finds himself utterly bored as he is lounging on the couch in Eris' office, waiting for his mate to finally be done with High Lord's business and so he comes up with an idea... for @azrisweek | azrisweek masterlist | read on ao3 | no warnings

“Eriiiiiiiiis,” Azriel whines. The High Lord ignores him.

With a loud and dramatic sigh, Azriel then throws his head back. “Eris….” he moans a little louder, hoping to somehow catch his mate‘s attention, but the High Lord has the audacity to only grumble a few incomprehensible words, not even deigning the shadowsinger with a look.

Is he truly ignoring me? Azriel thinks and furrows his brow The shadowsinger exhales another loud sigh, letting his head fall back, now hanging over the side of the couch he is lounging on.

He intensely stares at his mate’s back, hoping that Eris can somehow feel it. But still no reaction from the High Lord. Not even when Azriel tugs at the bond. Not even when he tugs many times, and hard. Not even when he lets Eris feel how deeply the absolute agony of the other's betrayal affects him he is going through (namely getting ignored and desperately wanting his mate) through the bond.

The High Lord of Autumn continues to scribble something down on a piece of paper, one hand holding the pen, the other braced atop at least ten books and pieces of parchment.

“Eris, I am bored and I want you!” 

“You‘ll have me later,” Eris answers matter-of-factly, not turning to look over his shoulder. He keeps staring at the paper in front of him. 

Azriel’s eyes widen in disbelief, and he throws his arms up in exasperation, shadows shifting with the movement.

“I want you now!” Azriel grumbles and once again receives no answer. He isn’t really mad about Eris and his indifference — he is the new High Lord, has a lot to do and Azriel didn’t announce his visit. He is just there and needs his mate, but Eris is busy. He had spent a little time with his mate in the morning, they ate together, went for a walk and made love in the forest, when they returned Azriel fell asleep in Eris arms but woke up to find an empty bed. And since this morning —it’s now late afternoon— Eris has been working nonstop and has had no time for his mate.

Azriel rather starts to worry about Eris. He is working so much – too much probably, and Azriel is afraid that it might become overwhelming for his mate.

“And you are working too much.” Azriel shifts his gaze to one shadow curling and swirling around his stretched out arm, quickly glancing sideways to his mate and then back at his hand.

“I have a lot of work, my love.”

A silly grin appears on Azriel’s face at the nickname. He wants to wipe it off his face, trying so hard right now to be angry at his mate. But he can’t. He just can’t be mad at him. Not when Eris says things like my love.

Azriel folds a hand over his mouth, hoping for the grin to disappear so he can glower at his mate again. “When will you be done?”

“If you stopped distracting me, I would be done much faster.” Eris’ tone edges on annoyance and it hurts Azriel a little. It also disappoints him. He doesn’t like it when Eris threatens to fall back into old patterns and talks to him like this. But instead of confronting Eris, the shadowsinger decides to really shut his mouth and keep calm.

He flips onto his side, careful of his wings of course, and his eyes land on Ares, Eris‘ youngest greyhound, casually stretched out on the luxurious carpet in front of the couch. The animal‘s gaze is fully focused on him and Azriel smiles, but then realises—

The hound is not looking at him, or at least not directly. Ares is ogling the shadow that is curled around his arm, and that with a predatory gaze.

The corner of Azriel’s mouth quirks up, and an idea sparks in his mind. His lips form a happy, and slightly mischievous grin, and he pushes up on his elbow, resting his chin in his palm.

“You want to play?” This draws Ares‘ attention to his face, and the hound meets his gaze, ears twitching. His tongue pokes out and he begins to pant, looking like he is about to jump up and dart into Azriel’s direction.

A big grin spreads over the shadowsinger’s face, and a devilish idea forms in his mind. He allows the shadow to slide down his arm, down his hand until it is only connected to the tips of his fingers, and then he says, or rather commands, “Go!”

The shadow darts ahead, swirling over the ground and Ares after it. The shadow is fast and so is Ares, but whenever his paw reaches for it, it is nothing more than black mist he touches, not able to catch it. 

Azriel loves this, laughing from the bottom of his heart while he directs his shadow and allows his precious hound to run after it. Ares is relentless, and fast, blazing through the entire office, and somehow Eris still manages to ignore them. 

Azriel’s annoyance grows, and his brows bunch. He allows Ares to chase the shadow for a few more rounds and then he gets another idea. An idea that sounds absolutely brilliant in his mind and one that he knows will make his mate finally focus on something else than work. 

He commands the shadow to change course, now slithering over the ground, right into the direction of the chair Eris is sitting atop. Ares follows, his paws padding loudly on the floor. His snout is pressed against the cool stones, his tail wiggling excitedly. 

The shadow reaches Eris' chair, climbing upwards until curls around his arm and slides onto the parchments he is currently reading through. 

“What–Ares!?”

The large hound lands on top of Eris‘ desk and work and half on top of Eris who yelps in shock. Ares' weight almost makes Eris fall backwards and he now has to hold onto the hound and the desk, hoping to not tumble and really fall to the ground. “AZRIEL!”

The shadowsinger has to laugh so hard, he is bending over, eventually tumbling onto the floor, after seeing how the large greyhound jumped onto its owner and hearing his mate shriek in horror.

“Azriel!” Eris shouts, his voice sounding furious. He knows exactly whose doing it was. Who the culprit was! It must have been his mate. Ares wouldn’t do something just like that, Eris knows this, so it had to be his mate’s brilliant idea.

He somehow manages to help Ares back to the ground, staring at him for a moment before his gaze returns to the crumbled papers in front of him. Rolling his eyes, he smooths his hand over the paper, and then has to crack a smile.

He wishes he could be mad at his mate for what he has done, but damn, does he fail miserably. Azriel is just…he is a menace, but he loves him just too much and maybe he has truly been a little inattentive. 

“Ares,” Eris lifts a hand. “Be a good boy and play outside.” Waving his hand, Eris magically opens the door, allowing the greyhound to blaze outside, following his owner’s command. With another flick of his wrist, the door closes after him.

Slowly, Eris shoves the pieces of paper, now crumbled and messy, back on the table, placing a pile of books atop them.

“Now to you!” Slowly, the High Lord rises and then turns to his mate, a frown on his face. “You are impossible.” He approaches Azriel with long and slow steps, staring down at him from above.

“And yet you love me.” Azriel beams, his cheeks rosy, his grin reaching from one ear to the other.

“I guess I‘ll have to reconsider…I had important business to do.”

Azriel shrugs a casual shoulder, allowing one of his shadows to curl around Eris‘ leg, slowly climbing upwards until it reaches his head, softly brushing his ear and the side of his face.

“Well, I think you‘ll have important business to do with me as well.”

This elicits a low and breathy chuckle from Eris, and slowly he steps into his mate, crouching down so they are on eye-level. “Is that so, Shadowsinger?”

Azriel straightens his posture which allows him to almost touch Eris mouth with his lips. “I need you.”

Eris leans in as well, gaze dropping to his mate’s lips. He can feel Azriel’s desire through the bond, the raw carnal need, and has been feeling it for the past hours. 

“Yes, you do,” Eris breathes. “I guess the letters can wait a little.”

general Azris tag list (please let me know if you want to be added/removed): @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams @acourtofladydeath @secret-third-thing @born-to-riot @chunkypossum

thank you so much for beta reading @queercontrarian and @born-to-riot 💛

[sakuralovespossums]

🌹 Osamu Dazai x Wife Reader 🌹

I kinda based you and Dazai’s relationship off of Jack and Rosemary from The Walten Files, so expect lots of wholesomeness

You and Dazai met around the time he just left the Port Mafia and was trying to make a new life for himself. You had also recently fled from another shady organization and was keeping a low profile

One day while walking home from the store, you spotted a man attempting to jump off a bridge and quickly rushed over to stop him, causing you both to fall in the water

Luckily you survived but were left wet and freezing. You angrily dragged him back to your apartment and cleaned him up, yelling and scolding him the entire time while your gentle actions revealed your true kindness

Dazai was soon intrigued by your strange willingness to help a stranger like him and decided to stick around a bit to see how long he could mess with you till you grew tired of him

As time passed, he slowly realized what an angel you were and ended up falling HARD for you (and you vice versa)

I’m one of the people who believe Dazai’s ideal woman would be someone with an optimistic mindset and pure/strong morality. She would also have a unique way of looking at things that kinda sets her apart from others

Realistically, I feel like Dazai wouldn’t open up about his past/vulnerable side to his lover nor marry them until a few years later since he’s VERY serious about keeping his personal info hidden until he 1000% fully trusts him them. But for the sake of this fic, let’s say he does tell you about his past and marries you shortly after his entrance exam in the ADA

You also work at the ADA as a clerk (suggested by Dazai)

You and Dazai are known as the cute couple within the ADA (a lot like Junichiro and Naomi but not creepy)

Dazai already follows and clings to you like a desperate puppy wherever you go, so you can imagine just how chaotic and distracting it gets at work

He’s always ditching his paperwork to flirt with you and then try to get you to ditch with him

Kunikida seriously wonders why the president ever thought it was a good idea to let Dazai’s wife work in the same building as him

He gushes about you nonstop omg it’s so annoying

*Kicks open door* “Guess what lunch my gorgeous wife made me today?!~~”

*Angry Kunikida eye twitch*

I cannot state enough times just how much this man WORSHIPS you like your his goddess, his shining light, his angel

A lot of his acts of love are pretty dramatic and silly, but it comes from a genuine place as he he feels he can trust you enough to share his more vulnerable side and dark past

He hasn’t shared everything with you though since I feel there are some things he can never trust anyone to share with, no matter what, not even Oda. But you understand that and accept him for who he is and his flaws

It’s your unwavering acceptance of him and his ugliness that really made him wanna spend his life with you

He never takes off his wedding ring

You do a lot of stuff together (eating, bathing, napping, errands, etc)

Only thing you don’t do together is cooking and cleaning since he always almost destroys the apartment

“Osamu, you are staying on that couch until I’m done cooking this soup!” 😤

“But belladonna, how can I ever help you prepare your delicious meal?” 🥺

“By not burning the place down!!!”

Your a lot shorter than Dazai and have a plump/curvy body type (I just really like the image of lanky Dazai having a short plump wife to pick up and cuddle 💕)

Your known for you sweet and patient personality, as well as artistic worldview that intrigues your husband

Your favorite hobby is painting. It’s something that helped you get through your dark days and your so good at it that you’ve sold a few paintings to your neighbors

Of course Dazai is your no. 1 model

Sometimes he’ll also paint something for you (he doesn’t paint as much since he’s more busy) and you decide to create a small art room to hang up both of your works

Fun fact: The real life Osamu Dazai was also a painter

Your no pushover though and can get pretty scary when angry (maybe not as scary as Dazai, but still intimidating)

If anything were to happen to Dazai, you won’t hesitate to do whatever or go wherever to save him. You don’t care who you have to face or how dangerous it might be, your fetching your husband back no matter what

Because of this, he’ll concoct plans ahead of time to best keep you out of harms way

Yeah, Dazai is still his manipulative self, but does it all out of love and what he thinks is best for you, wether you agree or not

God help anyone who even tries to lay a hand on you because Dazai will NOT hold back in letting them know what happens to those who try to harm HIS wife

I don’t really see you guys having kids. Your already happy enough just having each other (and also your dangerous professions)

Dazai doesn’t like you meeting any of his former Port Mafia peers and tries to keep them away from you

Though I imagine you and Chuuya probably have met at some point. He doesn’t give you much thought until he finds out you’re that idiot’s wife and he freaks out!!

If Akutagawa found out about you, I think he would also be shocked but then grow jealous of how close you are. How the hell was a weakling like you able to easily gain Dazai-san’s trust and admiration when he couldn’t?!

[motherofplatypus]

So I saw this post by @iandoubt and i just have to write a fic out of this.

It's slightly NSFW, because I also use this fic for practice, so please excuse the cheap writing I made ٩(ᐛ)و

***

For Joel, the worst thing about being a red life isn't that he's on his last life and must go on a killing spree to get everyone to join the Legion of the Losers.

Nope. It's that he had to dye his hair, again.

The process of dyeing it is quite fast, but the effort to collect the ingredients are a pain. And yes, it's not necessary to change the color of your hair every time you lost a life, but it's a must if he wanted to instill fear upon those who sees him.

Also for style.

Mainly for style.

Anyway, after spending like a quarter of the session collecting poppies and turning them into red dye and carefully painted over the green streak on his hair, Joel finally finished. It took him like ten minutes max and an extra few minutes to let it dry. Being on the upper deck of the Relation Ship really helped the drying process.

He looked at himself and felt weird not seeing that green streak there.

While cleaning up, he looked at the hatch towards the lower deck, listening to the faint grunts from where the bedroom was. Etho is down there, dyeing his hair himself, and Joel quoted Etho: "I think I can do it myself, it's just like painting, right?"

It's not actually necessary for Etho to dye his hair, but they're partner, and if they wanted to be a functional partner in their last life, that Canadian man better get on with his style.

While waiting for him to finish, Joel decided to add extra details on the upper deck and the sails. He avoided going to the bedroom or lower deck to check on Etho, he wanted to be surprised by Etho's work (derogatory).

After some texturing and choosing better color gradient, something that took more time than collecting those poppies, Joel decided Etho might be needing his help.

He went to their bedroom, and the first thing that came to mind was "Did Etho just killed someone here?".

The bedroom was red. All red. The white sheet of their beds looked like someone just got murdered there, and Etho was sitting on it, entire body tainted with red dye except his white hair, looking defeated.

"I know you said it'll be just like painting, but I didn't expect you to paint everything except your hair!" Joel's mouth was gaping, trying to find a word to express his bewilderment. "How did you even do this? There's more dye on the ceiling than there are on your hair!"

Even with half of his face covered with mask, Joel could see just how embarrassingly red Etho's face was.

Joel took the dye away from Etho and pulled a chair from the corner. He gave Etho a sign to sit there. Without complaint, Etho obeyed, trying to hide his face away. Joel left the room for a moment and came back with a towel in hand.

He tossed the towel to Etho and moved next to him, preparing to dye his hair. "Clean yourself up, or do I need to do it myself as well?"

"You know, if you wanted to do it that badly, you just have to say it." From the way the side of his cheek raised slightly, Joel could tell Etho is making that snarky smirk.

His eye twitched and he grabbed Etho's hair like he's snatching wig. Etho screamed.

Joel decided he will just dye Etho's bangs. Maybe a bit more, as long as the white still the dominant feature of his hair. He had tried to imagine Etho with red hair and he hates it (not like he thinks about his partner that much, he's not that obsessed).

Five minutes later, Joel almost finished with dyeing one side of the bangs. It was relatively quick. However, it's a different story for Etho, who had to listen to his partner nagging nonstop in that five minutes.

"God, you're so pathetic. I mean, look at this!" Joel turned Etho's face and lifted some strands of hair to wipe a red stain. "If I left you alone any longer you'd be Hellboy by now."

"Joel, my ears are about to fall off if you keep nagging."

"Nagging is for losers. I'm not nagging, I'm scolding!" Joel moved to the other side and paint the white hair red. "You with your bloody dye and hair. If you can't scare the other with this, I'm ending our series."

Now, it's Etho's eye that twitched with annoyance, and he wanted to retaliate.

Etho grabbed the hair that's just dyed, feeling the dye still fresh and wet on his skin, and aimed it at Joel's face. Instinctively, Joel tried to dodge, but it was too late. The finger with the wet dye, originally aimed at his cheek, brushed upon his lips instead, giving Joel a rosy red lips.

Etho exploded into laughter. "Nice to see you there, pretty lady." Etho spoke between his laughter.

Heat crept up on his face that Joel thought he'd combust. Etho was laughing harder when Joel's face went red as a tomato, he nearly fell off the chair.

Joel clenched the dye in his hand and was more than tempted to just pour the whole thing onto Etho's head. But he thought, where's the fun in a quick revenge?

And so, Joel decided to make his revenge as slow and as painful as he could.

Joel moved in front of Etho, and without a single word, he sat on his laps.

The sudden weight on his laps instantly made Etho stopped laughing. His eyes were set and locked on the man in front of him. The man on his laps. But the weight wasn't the thing that got his attention.

Their waists were practically touching. Separated by the fabric of their pants, their tools are pressing one another.

The silent didn't go unnoticed by Joel. Seeing that he had won the first step of his petty revenge, he decided to step it up. "Nice to see you too, handsome man. This pretty lady needs to sit down for a while, you don't mind, right?" He smirked, both to tease him and to declare victory.

If Etho's brain was audible, Joel would hear a lot of sirens and stuff crash and burn. And when Joel moved himself to get a better position, there would be an explosion sound.

Joel returned to dyeing the hair red, as slowly as he could. Each stroke of the brush took at least a minute, and each stroke of it sent Etho's mind further into the blank mindscape.

Once in a while after turning the white strands red, Joel would purposefully moved himself. Feeling the soft brush of their pants that got Etho to moan silently while trying to not looking too flustered, it was a sight to be seen.

He would like to do this all day. Teasing his partner into oblivion, filling that head with nothing but the friction of their pants and the soft sound of his breath mixing with the pleasure moan that Etho himself made.

He would love to do this all day, but the circumstances won't allow them. Sooner or later, they will have to return to the game, be it willingly or have someone hunt them down.

With one last stroke and one last movement that pulled the longest moan Etho made, Joel got himself up from his partner.

"Alright, we're done. Let's get going." Joel turned himself away faster than he should've. Despite being the one deciding to move away and getting his revenge, he found himself already missing the pressure between his legs.

"Joel." There was a long silence before Etho called his name. Joel turned around to see Etho already standing behind him. Even though Etho was only slightly taller than him, Joel couldn't help but feel a bigger pressure being this close with him.

"What?" Joel finally spoke, his voice was squeaky beyond his control.

It was clear as day of the desire within Etho's eyes, as well as the lies he's gonna say. It was disappointing to know he would not be able to hear it, but something tells him he would not hear it now.

Etho pulled out a flint and steel, and those eyes smiled softly at him. "The ship burns, everything burns?"

Joel took the flint and steel with a smile that matched his partner. 'The ship burns, everything burns."

[thewandererh]

⚠️🩸TW // NOOSE-INSPIRED LONG ROPE NECK (little nightmares 2 teacher type beat), BLOOD, NECK-IN-GUT IDEA, big teeth?? misaligned eyes??, trident thROUgh his head and bEtWeen his brains💥

before i do more jashling fanart, have a Dyadracide (one of my first real Soul designs after knowing cj for a year) dump :]! picking my favorites from a whiteboardfox canvas that i’ve been drawing nonstop for a few hours in every day. might share the other unchosen doodles later but have these for now.

ordered chronologically :]!!! drew a lot more than this but have the silly trident head guy for now

been learning how to render liquid cartoonilly-realistically, and it’s been fun! figuring out layering and stuff. learning on my own :]! i’m not weird about liquid i just love rendering it <3,, speaking of rendering; i’ve definitely gotten better at rendering him, but am tryna squeeze in a simpler sketchy style to draw faster. the layers are fun but they take a while <\3

ok this might be a little weird but to keep the blood out of his throat his voice is a little breathy sometimes (hence the excessive ‘h’s. its fun to write them lmao). breathy autotune 😭

alsO the stitches on his hoodie elbows are from his ability to detach his forearms, and they stay connected to him with the same rope his neck is made of. his anatomy is questionable but long neck = less gut (its stored inside him). lots of huggable ability ❤️. HES SUCH A DAD. it’s like beer gut but not,,AND because those arms are connected to his gut, if you like…lean into him too hard or whatever his hands twitch. playfully pumch him and his hands shudder. silly guy. i know its definitely an interesting way to interpret soul but i like him like this :]

ok bye 💥💥

[theleechyskrunkly]

The Discussion.

Paige is angry, and Idia's a goner.

Finn Clearcove belongs to @thehollowwriter

Regular text for present time, italics for flashback.

Everybody seemed to be doing the right thing right now, and what was the right thing to do? Stay out of Paige's way. His dorm mates looked utterly baffled (and terrified) as he stormed past them, anger oozing off of him. The students who saw him prayed to the seven for whoever had angered Paige to such a degree, and wondered who'd been the fool to do so.

Paige was livid, his face contorted into a frown that no one had ever seen on his usually passive features. It had everyone wondering what could’ve possibly happened for him to be in such a sour mood.

Well, to begin with, the main culprit was Idia. Why was he angry at Idia? Well, you're bound to find out. Boy, was he about to give Idia an earful...

”So, I take it you're... friends with Idia?” Finn’s voice cut through the music playing in Paige’s earbuds. The two were in Finn’s private area of the school’s botanical garden, Finn painting what seemed to be a carnivorous plant eating a rabbit(with extremely gory detail, as was characteristic for Finn's paintings), while Paige laid on his back with his head resting on a tree branch, scrolling through Twstube. His hair, which was out of its usual braid for once and running loose everywhere, served as his only pillow.

Finn's question was rather random, not only because they had not even been talking about Idia, but also because the two rarely spoke much when they were together at the botanical garden. They just sat in silence, each doing their own thing while enjoying the others company. It was like a little routine they'd set together.

“Yeah? Why?” Paige responded, taking out one of his earbuds and rolling onto his stomach to look up at Finn. Paige preferred to pretend he wasn’t aware of the obvious mutual dislike between Finn and Idia, but he knew avoiding it was no use.

"No, nothing. He's just rather... peculiar, to say the least." There was an obvious distaste in Finn's voice as he attempted to find a not-so-obvious way to hide his dislike for Idia, yet he failed rather miserably at doing so. Paige catches on very quickly to the emotions of humans, mer plus beast people, and animals alike. It's a trait that comes with the horse instincts.

"Peculiar would be an understatement," Paige of all people knew Idia was extremely bizarre, but with the amount of traveling he's done? Boy, has he seen worse. "What exactly is it that you have against him? You two are not really doing a fantastic job of being friendly with one another." Paige was blunt. Everything he said was always upfront, he never held back. The guy had no filter whatsoever and it showed.

Finn narrowed his eyes and his eyebrow twitched slightly, as if the simple thought of Idia got under his fins. "He's obnoxious, rude, talks nonstop — ugh, his gamerlingo is unbearable —, he's selfish, and outright disrespectful! If I had to list the times he's made comments regarding my weight, the list would go on for an eternity." Finn looked like he wanted to say more, but held his tongue to prevent his words from getting out of hand.

However, he had already said the words that set Paige ablaze. He instantly sat up, his usually blank expression knotting into something that showcased incredulity. He knew full well Idia was a certified yapper, and he could seem highly obnoxious to most, but since when did he bodyshame others? "What do you mean by making comments on your body? What type of comments? Is he making fun of you?" By this point, Paige had taken off both his earbuds, which alerted Finn in some sort of way. Paige hardly removed both his earbuds, if even one, not even when he showered (he has waterproof earbuds), and when he did, things were serious.

Finn hesitated before confirming Paige's suspicions, after all, Paige looked like he would go off stomping the second he said the truth. "Yes, he did. Such unoriginal insults, you'd think he was proud of hims- Paige, where are you going?!"

Paige didn't need to hear another word. He did indeed stomp off (quite literally). And he was stomping off to Ignihyde.

Paige did not even knock before letting himself into Idia's room, already knowing the password by heart since Idia had given up on changing it (Paige figured out every time). Idia was in the middle of game, nearly flying off the bed when Paige came in and turned on the lights in his room.

"You and I have something to discuss."

ITS DONE RAAAAAAHHHHHH

Guys I swear I didn't procrastinate this for a whole month trust 🙏

Btw this is the first fic I've ever ever written so my apologies for it being trash 😍🫶

Tagging: @thehollowwriter @cyanide-latte @xen-blank (let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist)

[mooncello]

“So.” Kai’s eyes glitter in the dark. “You’ve wanted this for awhile.”

My brain flashes back to the moment three years ago when I realized I was in love with Kai. When he was ill and burning and I thought I was going to lose him forever.

“Is there a question in there or—”

“Shh.” Kai places a finger against my lips. “And I have been distracted all week with thoughts of you, of us, doing, well—this. And a bunch of other things. Like, nonstop. All week long. And all this time you also wanted, uh, this.”

A smile twitches at my mouth. Kai adorably rambles when attempting to share something that exposes his heart. Something vulnerable and raw and real.

“This whole time I thought you hated me for kissing you,” Kai says. “Or, you know, were super annoyed and had zero interest.”

“Dude, I kissed you back. How did you not catch that?”

“Um.” Kai squints an eye, and blushes. “I was really caught up in my own head? I was so freaked and, I dunno, anxiety took over. The details blanked out.”

“Mm. And here I was, all week, thinking you regretted the whole thing.”

“I mean, I did? But that lasted less than a day. And only because…”

“Anxiety brain.”

“Yeah,” Kai sighs. “So many stupid assumptions.”

That makes two of us.

I say, “Seems like us talking might have helped” at the same time Kai says, “I should have talked to you,” and we laugh. And then we’re kissing again, slow and deep, and something is unspooling in my gut, and I’m in absolute wonder—again—at how good this is.

I love him so fucking much.

When we break apart, I cup Kai’s face with my hand. “So, I’m sure you probably, uh, usually, you know, leave after but—” I clear my throat and ask what I want to ask: “Stay?”

Kai reaches up to press a kiss in the curve where my jaw meets my throat, and then tucks his body into mine, his arm once again curled around my chest. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere.”

~ ~

not one but TWO new chapters are up! lava fluff! softness! a 'lil spice, mostly sweet!