#capture my muse

[gunslinginnhogtyin]

«SPELL-BOUND»   for the sender to use a spell to entrap the receiver.

"Oh, what a sweet, noble little thing you are." It's easy enough to make Butch move with the cuffs on his arms, a magical binding shackling him to the ones on his own wrists. The rest of Butch is bound in emerald thread, so he's restrained for the moment with glittering patterns across his form. The person dragging him along looks like Artair if he was rolled in dirt, had shoulder-length hair, and it lacked the usual gradient for just his yellow, with a few streaks of brown. That, and this body was healthy, filled out like he ate regular meals. But already, scales in a myriad of greens were beginning to grow in patches ion his skin, becoming more and more visible as his magical alterations began to fade and weaken. If anything he seemed stronger now, as he dragged Butch through a cavern opening.

"Your friend calls, and you come running. How...endearing." The saccharine voice pairs well with the too-wide smile, as they drag him further into the first chamber of the cavern. There's a bifurcation, and they turn right. "It's too bad. Really, you ought to have been more cautious, you are truly much too pretty to be dying this young."

The tunnel opens up from their downwards trek to a large open area, studded with countless stalagmites. Stalactites hang far above too, near the roof of the cavern. A circle of runes on the floor light an acidic green, ringing the perimeter of this large amphitheater. With a tingling thrum, the threads binding Butch are gone. Resonance yanks him a few feet further by the manacles before he can find his feet, letting out a laugh that's almost familiar as he forces him that last stumble. "But don't worry, I'm sure if you try so very hard you can make your escape. Go on, little cowboy, feel free to try."

CAPTURE MY MUSE! // @townofcadence

«SPELL-BOUND»   for the sender to use a spell to entrap the receiver.

Butch felt stupid, to say the least, for falling for such an obvious trap. The moment he thought he heard his friend in danger, he had sprung into action—only to find that it wasn’t his friend at all. In fact, he’s not sure what this thing was… but it sure resembled Artair in a few ways, albeit with a few notable differences that weren’t quite obvious from afar in the dimness of the night.

This wasn’t the first time he had been bound by magic and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, so he’s far from fearful—more so AGITATED by this unfortunate turn of events and even more so when the thing begins to taunt him as he’s dragged along off to god knows where. “Shut up.” Butch growls, struggling in his confines yet again despite knowing his attempts are futile.

Whatever this thing was, it had some sort of dark aura surrounding it—god, if only his senses were a bit sharper. Perhaps he could recognize what sort of magic this was, or what this being was in general and then he could ponder his escape with what advantages he might have had. Sadly, that had always been his old partners area of expertise. Fuck.

The cowboy makes sure to keep an eye on their surroundings, hoping that remembering the location in which they had traversed so far will assist him in some way when making his escape. If he even gets the chance, that is. He’s determined to free himself, he had been in rougher patches before—he’s sure of it! So there was really no need to panic, and he doesn’t… not until dying is mentioned, anyway.

His eyes go a little wide and a nervous laugh escapes him, and suddenly he’s much friendlier than he had been on the entire trek here. “Heyyyy now—let’s not talk like that! Heh—“ Butch swallows his disgust before continuing, “U-Uh… this… pretty lil’ thing can do other stuff too, y’know… y’don’t have t’kill me.” He tries, looking from his captor and then around himself as they enter a peculiar tunnel. What the…?

Then, he stops and Butch feels the threads binding him dissipate just before being thrown forcefully forward which indeed causes him to stumble, his tail whipping around as he tries to maintain some balance. He nearly trips but manages to catch his footing just in time, shooting a glare at the thing that had nearly knocked him over. That laugh is what really pisses him off… the fact that it sounded like Artair, it disgusted him. Among other feelings, he’s confused as to how and why exactly this is happening. Surely this guy knew Artair, right? It was no coincidence they shared scarily similar physical attributes, right? There was no telling at this point.

A growl rumbles in the back of his throat but he has to stop himself from saying anything he’ll regret; he’s in an awfully compromising situation after all. Maybe playing nice was the best course of action. It had gotten him out of many scrapes before. Gritting his teeth, he has to force a smile, scoffing loudly in response to the others mocking,

“Tch! Escape? Th’ fun’s jus’ gettin’ started, ain’t it? Y���brought me alllll th’ way out here,” He gestures around himself with his bound wrists, looking around as well before his eyes land back on Resonance, “…an’ y’want me t’ escape? Let’s have a lil’ fun first! Or ‘least make a game out’f it? C’mon, what d’ya say~?” His tone is playful now, free of any worry. He could put on a little show if it meant waiting for an open opportunity to escape.

[last-blue-hours]

This part in rebirth sounds even more uplifting with a live band.

[justgleekout]

Struck by his beauty. Had to draw.

[runwiththerain]

hello, welcome to the chaos.

percy/ivy/ask. they/he/she/ask. 15. aus/aest. poc. audhd. did system. other neurodivergences. genderfluid. queer. aroace.

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taylor swift. gracie abrams. conan gray. olivia rodrigo. lizzy mcalpine. hozier. noah kahan. alec benjamin. boywithuke. waterparks. & more.

rain. storms. fog. swimming. the ocean. space. the moon, sun and stars. planets. choir. listening to music. choir. pinterest. spotify. tumblr. cats. sharks. sunflowers. sunsets. chocolate. fairy lights.

lover of alterous attraction. obsessed with wonderland by taylor swift. i cant live without music. owner of a djungelskog and blahaj. learning german. special interest is learning as a whole. i overshare on the internet. free palestine, sudan and congo. my pinterest. my spotify.

@thepaladinstrait. @cuyberpunk. @sleepy-vix. @daydream-of-a-wallflower. @bassguitarinablackt-shirt.

@svnflowermoon. @a-beautiful-fool. @flowers-for-em. @lost-in-reveriie. @loveyou-imsorry. are all the best ever.

my discord is the same as my url. super close people can ask for my insta. please send me asks and i'm totally happy to be friends with you. i can be really awkward sorry. professional yapper. we only talk about our system with super close people and not on here. common tags are below in the actual tags. mutual tag list. header cred to @solargeist. pfp cred to @lovely-lee. divider cred to @cafekitsune

[solomonssock]

To Capture A Demon's Heart

Mammon lovers I bestow upon you my apology fic. Please, rise up and come get your boy.

I fell for him a bit more writing this frfr

Pairing: gn!reader x Mammon (romantic feelings heavily implied, no established relationship, but don't you worry - you're working on that)

TW: Mention of Lucifer's punishments, Uhuhuh awkward discussion of infernal courting behaviors, mentions of violence, lmk if there''s anything else to add, ty!

Word Count: ~5,000

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

On the rug before you lay two options: “The Wicked Woes of Demonessa” or “To Capture a Beating Heart”. 

You flip over both DVD cases to skim their synopses, fingers trailing over the printed leads in all their infernal glory. You snort to yourself at the crossroads Asmodeus has supplied you with and wonder which would be better: an all-demon romance or a demon-human romance?

Ah-actually, the question should be: which would be easier to convince Mammon to watch with you?

The answer, as always, is neither. But that won't stop you from trying.

You shake your head, a smile pulling at your lips at the thought of how he'll react to your movie selection tonight. He's late, but with good reason, so you'll forgive him. Punishment by Lucifer is punishment enough. 

You kneel up from your position on the floor, rubbing out the pins and needles that had started to form. When all feeling returns to you, you reach under your bed to drag out the thick faux fur blanket Mammon had gifted you for your birthday this year. Custom-made, a pattern of your favorite hideously-cute zombie iguana plushies are plastered across the golden spread. You push your face into the fabric, its velvety softness tickling your skin, and inhale. It smells of the same smoky cedarwood that sticks to his skin. 

You toss it onto your bed and climb up after. One-by-one you adjust your pillows so that they rest upright against the mossy wall and face the TV. You take care to put more support on your side, anticipating he'll eventually stop resisting and cuddle up to you as he often does. When you're finally satisfied with the distribution, you hop off the bed to snatch your wallet from the table nearby. You dig inside until your finger bumps into what you're looking for; a golden grimm coin. 

Both titles are appealing enough that you're impartial to either, so you'll just do a coin toss. You're more interested in the cute expressions Mammon will show you tonight anyway. 

You flip the coin off your thumb, catch it in your palm, and lay it flat on the back of your hand. You lift your palm and grin - it's head. “The Wicked Woes of Demonessa” it is. 

A knock sounds at your door.

"Hey, Human, It's me. Open the door!" You hum to yourself, bending down to pick up just one of the DVDs. You stash both your wallet and “To Capture a Beating Heart” into your backpack and plop it into the chair farthest from the bed. You look over your room one more time and nod before walking over to open the door.

There waits your pouty demon, hair all mussed up with arms crossed over his broad chest. 

"Some nerve you got, making me wait!" He huffs. You flash him a toothy smile, tugging him inside by his elbow and shutting the door behind him.

"Happy to see you too, Mam." A light flush rises to his cheeks.

"Y-yeah..happytoseeyatooidiot," he grumbles. "Did'ya pick out a movie yet?" His eyes skitter away from you to appraise your set-up. 

Dimmed fairy lights, honey-scented candle sticks lit on golden candelabras, and the golden pendant he'd gifted you during your first year in the Devildom rests proudly over the collar of your pajama shirt. Everything is intentional. Everything is for him. 

"Sure did!" You saunter over towards your bed and bend over to pick up the DVD case from off the rug. You go to open the case, but a lack of following footfalls distracts you. You look over your shoulder to find him fidgeting in the middle of your room. 

You frown. "What's wrong Mam?" 

"W-what's that smell?" His eyes flicker to and fro, scanning your space for the source.  

"Uh, well I lit some scented candles. If they're too sweet for you I can turn them off, no problem." You toss the case onto your bed before heading for the coffin-shaped bookshelf in the back. You pick through a small black lace basket filled with spell tools you're borrowing from Solomon. 

You forget sometimes how heightened their senses are compared to yours. 

"You don't gotta go making a big deal out of it. A little sweetness ain't nothin' to the Great Mammon."  He chuckles loud and proud, but you catch the way he clenches his fists at his side.

"It "ain't nothin'" if it bothers you, Mam." You admonish. You finally find the candle snuffer and lift it out of the basket. "Your comfort is my priority, alright?"

He sputters, eyes wide, and you shoot him a soft smile as you move over to the first candelabra. "Really, it's no trouble."

Before you can snuff out the first candle stick, a firm hand wraps around your wrist. "Nah, s'fine. I..I like it." Your heart does a little flip at the admission, but as you glance down at the back of his hand you frown. 

"Aw, what happened here?" Your free hand traces the indentations pressed into his skin. They aren't too deep, but they seem a little aggravated. 

"Tsch," he releases you to shove both his hands into his jacket pockets. A slight crinkle catches your attention as they settle into the tight space, but you'll worry about that later. 

"Hey, none of that. No hiding." You place the snuffer onto the table and turn to him. You hold out your hands, palms up, and wait. Mammon can only shuffle his feet and avoid your eyes for so long.

"He's getting all creative now! Damn sadist."

You purse your lips and sigh out of your nose. Lucifer only had his brother's best interests in mind, but his methods could be awfully draconian at the worst of times. You'd seen in the group chat this morning that Mammon had tried to sell photos he sneaked out of Diavolo's private chambers. You haven't a clue of how he got past Barbatos of all beings, but you don't put it past him, he certainly is one of the most driven individuals you'd ever met. Undoubtedly, Mammon tested his luck and crossed several boundaries, but your heart aches for him. He's always hated sharing the weakest parts of himself.

"We don't have to talk about it. Will you just let me help you out a bit?" You bat your eyelashes when he finally meets your gaze. He scoffs and shrugs his shoulders.

"Can't keep your hands off me, can ya?" You quirk a brow at him, a knowing look on your face. You start to lower your hands slowly, purposefully.

"That's alright, Mam. I wouldn't want to force you." Before your hands can drop to your side, he clutches them in his own.

"Who said anything about force?! See," his hands squeeze your own, "all good to go." You drag your thumbs over the knuckles encasing your own.

"Go ahead and sit down, I'll join you in a sec." You gesture to the bed and your heart does happy little flips when he gravitates straight to the zombie-iguana blanket.

"Ya still got tha damn thing?" The question comes out soft, too soft, that you wonder if it was for you to begin with.

"Course I do. My first man gave it to me!" You can't stop yourself from laughing at the way his shoulders shoot up to his ears.

"Y-yeah," he attempts to catch himself as you walk back over to the bookshelf and dig into another basket, "It was a hassle to get it made, so don't go lettin' anybody else mess with it."

"Don't worry," you tease from the other side of the room. You can't resist the opportunity to rile up his greed, "I only take it out for our movie nights."

Sparing his dignity, you don't look up from the basket as you hear him choke a bit. When he calms down you grab the lotion-salve you'd made about a week ago, good for healing any minor wounds. Smelling of bergamot with hints of lavender, it's your proudest achievement thus far.

"Actually, speaking of our movie nights...," you stand and make your way over to the bed. Already, he's shoved off his jacket and shoes, making himself at home among the pillows. As your eyes scan his toned arms you're reminded that you quite literally have a model in your bed.

"This is the first one we've had in a while, huh?" He spreads his legs as you come closer, signaling for you to sit in between them. As you join him, his eyes soften and he holds out his hands for you to take. You're humbled by the trust he places in you.

You squirt some lotion into your hand and rub your palms together to warm it up before you reach for him. He sniffs the air and sits up a bit.

"The hells that?" 

You cock your head. Does he really not like the smell this time?

"You mean the lotion?"

"Yeah! Did Asmo give you that? I don't want that flowery shit." Ah, the real issue isn't the lotion itself . Rather, that another demon may have given it to you. Despite the laugh begging to spill forth from your lips, you manage to cool your expression.

You slowly massage the cream into your skin, biting your lip at the low warning growl that leaves him. You just had to be sure. "No, Mam. Asmodeus didn't give this one to me. I made it myself." His posture relaxes considerably.

That is, until you open your mouth again.

"But, if you don't like the smell I can go give it to him. He'd probably like it, right? I can go real qu-" You don't get to finish your sentence as his hand grasps the front of your shirt, tugging you forward until you're trapped in his arms.

"Ya ain't goin nowhere."  Goosebumps prick at your skin in response to this growl. It's not a warning. It's daring you to try your luck. You move quickly to return his embrace, smoothing your hands over his backside to reassure him. "You're stayin' here with me, understand?" Warmth flows through you from head to toe. 

"So, you don't find the scent completely and utterly repulsive?" Your hands trail upwards to massage his shoulders, pushing and prodding the tense muscles. He flinches, but doesn't stop you. 

"Ah, hold on!" Something clicks as he snaps back from you, holding you back by your shoulders. "Nobody said anythin' about being repulsed! Who said they're repulsed? Not me!" 

"Oh, good!" You pull his hands off your shoulders, dropping them onto your lap as you reach over for the lotion. Again, you warm it up between your hands. "Then just sit still, alright?"

He goes down quietly, too quietly, that you make sure to watch his face for any discomfort as you reach for the first hand. A touch to his skin surprises you. His hand is rougher than you expect, but you mask your curiosity and don't hesitate to place your hands atop his. The last thing you want is for him to recede into himself when you've finally gotten this far into whatever is happening between the two of you. You can ask about the rough calluses on his palm another day.

You start with the lines indented over his fingers, carefully kneading the skin as he hisses under his breath. His eyes, a blend of ocean and golden sun, remain transfixed on where your skin meets. But, his face is marred by a deep frown that makes your blood run cold. Did you overstep somewhere? 

"What's running through your mind?" You work your way onto his palm, tenderly rubbing the faded scars littered across the expanse of skin. The lotion can't heal something that has already come to pass. Nor can you, but you'll hold him here for as long as he'll let you. 

A sigh leaves him. "Don't go treatin' me like I'm fragile. I'm supposed to protect you, got it?"

 He's right, he's not fragile. Beneath the glamor he's taut, tough skin, with sharp fangs and leathery wings that could tear you to shreds. But, he's also the same demon who seeks you out for comfort after punishments or a big loss at the casino. The same demon who sits through horror movies if it means he'll have an excuse to spend the night with you. The demon who would truly do anything you asked of him - and that's not a power you wield lightly. 

You pat his hand with a smile to let him know you're finished and hold out your hands for him once more. You'll let him decide if he wants to continue.

"Hey, don't you dare ignore me!" Plopping his hand into yours immediately defeats the tough tone he's put on. You start from the top and repeat the motion, fingers to palm. A rush of boldness overcomes you as you press into the callouses. You adore this demon. You wish he could see himself the way you see him. 

"I know you're not fragile, Mam." You finish up the massage, but don't let go. You watch as the indentations gradually fade into even skin. "But, you're precious to me. I treasure what's precious to me. You get that, don't you?" 

Your stomach drops as silence greets you. At the very least, you think, it's a good sign that he hasn't pulled his hand away from you. You drop both of your hands into your lap and fidget with his fingers.

"You mean that?" You never knew Mammon's voice could sound so meek. 

You lift your eyes to his, grasping his hand tightly between your own. Wide eyes, mouth parted, and brows furrowed. Even like this, he's a vision.

"I mean it, Mam." 

At once, his cheeks are aflame. "I-you!" He stammers. A laugh rips from your chest, relieved that he didn't a) run out of the room or b) hide away from you. You want to tease him more, but you hold back. Instead, you reach over to pick up the DVD from off your comforter and savor this milestone between the two of you.

"Ready for the movie?" You ask, getting up from the bed.

"Huh? Oh that, yeah, yeah." He seems a bit dazed. 

"You feeling ok?" You lean over, lifting your hand to feel his forehead, but his hand catches yours before you reach him. 

"I'm fine! The hell we watching anyway?" You use your free hand to show him the DVD cover. The two demonic leads stand before each other, hand in hand, leaning in for a kiss under the title. 

"The Wicked Woes of Demonessa?!" He sounds exasperated. "W-where'd you get that junk?! We ain't watching that!"

"What, why not?" You pout, giving him puppy dog eyes.

"That's some mind poison! All it's good for is rottin' ya brain." He snarls, but you know you've got him. A little nudging is all he needs.

"Oh." You sigh, purposefully. "Well, if you don't want to watch it with me, I'm sure Beel or Mo wouldn't mind." "Like he-" "Or-" You counter before he can start running his mouth. "We can watch another movie I borrowed as a back-up."

Mammon eyes you suspiciously. "What other movie are ya hidin', human?"

You have to be a little evil in this back-and-forth or you'll never get anywhere. So, you shuffle over to the TV stand and grab the unopened DVD case resting next to the DVD player. You show him the cover and watch as he immediately recoils.

"ARE YA CRAZY?!" He shrieks. A myriad of ghosts with tormented expressions erupt from the house that rests above the title that reads: The Horrible Haunting of Hollow Hill Manner. 

"What?" You ask like it's not the most peculiar and pointed selection to ensure you two watch your movie of choice this evening.

"What?" He mocks your casual tone. "Who're ya borrowin' that from?"

"Satan." Your smile comes easy. "He recommended this one, it's a murder mystery that takes place in a haunted house. Apparently, it's based on a true story."

"A TRUE WHAT?!" He throws the fur blanket over himself, leaving only his head submerged. 

"Mammon," you snort, "you're literally one of the most powerful beings in existence. Fourth most powerful in all the Devildom."

You can't see his chest puff up, but you know him well enough to know it does. 

"E-exactly!" He exclaims. "I can take on anything. Some cheap old trick movie like that won't scare me, nuh-uh, it'll  just be a snoozefest."

"I see," you smirk, "then some cliche romance flick shouldn't be too bad, right? Wouldn't want you falling asleep on me." Hook, line, and sinker.

You pay Mammon's complaints no mind as you open the DVD case and pull out the disk. You pop it into the DVD player, thrilled you get to watch a classic demonic romance unfold. You've been curious for some time now about how romance in the Devildom differs from the Human Realm. The plot seemed entertaining enough, but really you were curious about the customs. You wanted to woo him on his terms, in a way he couldn't blow off as some human schtick. 

You press play and pad back over to your bed. He's pouty, so you decide to sit next to him and hold out on getting under the blanket with him.You'll wait until the mood passes and give him his space.You can feel his stare digging into you as the opening soundtrack plays, but you manage to keep your focus on the screen. For a couple of minutes you two sit like this.

"Why're ya bein' like that?" He accuses.

"Like what?" You snap your head to him, eyes widening as you see him sit up, blanket falling off his shoulders and into his lap.

"Distant." He huffs, looking away from you. "Y-you said you treasure what's precious to ya, right?" 

Your heart is about to fucking explode. You don't waste a minute, wrapping your arm around his and tugging at him to face you. 

"You looked upset, so I wanted to give you your space." You utter, softly. "Would you be ok if I joined you under the blanket?" 

He scoffs, lifting the blanket up and over you. "Like ya even hav'ta ask." Earlier in the night than you've anticipated, he cuddles into your side with his head resting on your chest. You can't read his face from this angle, but a subdued purr rumbling through him assures you he's comfortable. 

You two sit like this throughout the first half of the movie. It's an interesting premise concentrated on the love between a demon of nobility and a commoner of great strength who has been hired to train the noble in the art of war.  Later on, it's revealed that the commoner's unprecedented strength is due to them being an illegitimate child of a Great General of the East. The noble's father, a Recordkeeper, has hidden away documents proving the commoner's lineage at their father's request. Thus, they come to the castle under the guise of an instructor and soon find their plans disrupted when they begin to fall for the Recordkeeper's heir. 

Your curiosity is piqued as displays of what you presume is affection come onto the screen. "Hey Mam, I thought they liked each other, so why are they wrestling like that right now?"  

It's a more violent display than you expect, but you're entranced as their jaws snap, teeth are bared, and claws dig into skin. The leads throw each other against any surface within the weapon storehouse, stopping the other before they can plan an escape.  You look down at Mammon to find him hiding his face into your shirt, the tips of his ears tinged red.

"It's a show of strength." He mumbles into your shirt.

"A show of strength...," you repeat thoughtfully, "is that common in courtship here?"

Mammon groans, hiding further into your shirt. "I don'wanna talk about this. Don't they teach ya shit like that in your Demon Studies course or somethin'?"

"Unfortunately, no. The topic has never come up." Demon Studies has solely focused on social, political, and institutional relationships within the Devildom. Nothing interpersonal as far as you can remember.

"What?! Well they should, some silly 'ol human isn't gonna just pick up on that." 

"Well," you drag your fingers through his hair, "think you could enlighten me?" 

He peeks up at you with a glare. "Whad'ya wanna know?" The topic seems sensitive, so you tread lightly.

"Could you tell me what a common courtship is like here? You don't have to be detailed or anything. Like, are there steps?" Most of the romance movies you've seen during your time here have been pirated by Leviathan from the human realm. 

Again, Mammon hides his face from you. You are about to suggest you two move past the topic when he finally speaks up.

"Yeah. Yeah there are steps." You stay silent, but keep running your hand through his hair.

"Y'noticed how the noble started sendin' letters? Or how once they got a response from the sword swinger they started includin' trinkets or whatever with 'em?" A moment of silence passes and he peeks up at you. It hits you that he's waiting on you to respond.

You smile bashfully. "Oh, yes! Yes, I noticed."

He huffs. "It started then. Goin' all out with gifts, tryin' to impress each other like lunatics."

"Are trinkets usually given?" You ask.

"Mm," he hums, "yeah, but gifts are as varied as demons. Some prefer other things: food, poems, flowers, the heart of your greatest enemy, buncha stuff."

"Huh-" Did you hear that correctly? 

"The heart of your greatest enemy?" You parrot.

"What, ya sayin' humans don't do that anymore?" You shake your head. 

"None that I've met at least." You don't doubt that humans have done it at some point in time, but it sounds more like some distant wartime practice from the Middle Ages or earlier. 

"Still happens here. It's a show of strength and dedication, proof ya can kick any ass that comes threatinin' your potential mate." He seems to be relaxing more and more as you delve deeper into the topic. 

"So, the wrestling...?" 

"Show of strength. They're pretty equally matched, even though the lovebirds run in different circles. Makes 'em decent partners at least." You feel your mind expanding with the revelation that this scene is way deeper than you've realized. Despite the commoner's standing, they've been in control for most of the wrestling match. 

"Ooooh!" You take a minute to ponder. 

"So, demons won't usually go for someone weaker than them?"

"Bingo."

You wonder what this means for you two. You certainly aren't as strong enough as a demon, and especially not as strong as the Avatar of Greed. 

You lose your train of thought as Mammon sits up more to face you, poking you in the forehead.

"Doesn't mean they never will." You relax your face at his touch, you hadn't realized it was scrunched up so much. 

"It's not all about how tough ya are. It's 'bout how they make ya feel too. A courtship is pretty serious stuff, you don't pursue somethin' that intense with just any old schmuck."

Mammon's eyes follow your hand as it reaches to fiddle with the golden pendant he gifted you. In the middle lies some gemstone you can't find in the human world. It's clear with specks of gold and blue. He blushes and coughs into his fist.

"If it continues after that, it gets pretty serious pretty fast. Ya start scentin' each others stuff, which is a pretty ballsy move."

Your eyebrows jump up at this unexpected development. "Scenting...?"

"Yeah, puttin' your scent out so they know who ya belong to. No human nose is gonna pick up on somethin' subtle like that, but it's there." Wait, so does that mean-

"Is the house scented? Can it just be anything?" Mammon looks at you as if you've just grown another head.

"Huh?! No!" Embarrassment warms your cheeks.

"Why would we go wastin' energy like that? That's crazy. If anything is scented, it's intentional and nothin' time consumin'." You shrug your shoulders.

"Ah, ok. I didn't know." You fiddle some more with the pendant, looking away from him.

"Ack, no don't feel bad!" His face is just as flushed as yours, but he continues. "You didn't ask anything stupid. There's no way ya could've known!" You can't stop the giddy grin that pulls at your lips as he attempts to comfort you. You face him again.

"So, what happens next? If you're already doing something like that, aren't you practically together?" 

"Practically, but not officially." He grumbles. "Buncha kids go around scentin' each other thinkin' they're in love. The scent fades as fast as the feelin's." He runs a hand through his hair with a sigh.

"It's official when ya make it official. A spoken agreement between partners. No bullshittin'."

"That's it?" You try to sidestep the microscopic lens of human tunnel vision, but a spoken agreement feels less official than marriage in the human world. Joint assets, joint families, and rings as proof of being claimed.

"Whad'ya mean "that's it?"?! All and everything you really feel. Ya gotta say it and ya gotta mean it. It's a bindin' contract that's a bitch to ever try and break." It clicks for you then. A demon's word is binding.

"Like a pact, but for romantic partners?"

Mammon ponders for a moment before he nods. "That's not too far off. Little more goes into it, but it's complicated." The lull that comes after feels like the end of the conversation, so you take your chance.

"Mammon, has anyone tried courting you before?"

"Hah, of course!" His grin is as smug as it always is. "Who wouldn't want to take a chance to be with The Great Mammon?" He laughs to himself, but you wonder-

"Have you ever accepted an attempt?" You're curious.

"Uh-" The question catches him off guard. "Y-yeah. A handful of times, but it never went anywhere." You're a little disappointed, but you swallow down your pride. It would be more concerning if he'd never tried to find love throughout the milleniums he's lived. 

You shift your line of questioning. You'd rather focus on the present and this momentous opportunity lined up before you.

"So, say I were to get you something. What would you like?" You've never seen his head whip around so fast, truly inhuman speed as he jumps back from you and slams into the headboard.

"The hell, MC?!" His face, ears, and what you can see of his neck, everywhere is flushed at your implication. This is just as embarrassing for you, but you feel emboldened by the security of your room, the sweet scent of honey in the air, and the declarations of love coming from the movie that still runs in the background.

"What about a pendant to match mine? Would you wear something like that if I got it for you?" You've come so close. You won't give up now. 

"W-why would I want somethin' like that?" You know it's a deflection. He wouldn't have stayed with you, here and now, if it wasn't. But, you're tired of it. You only want it if he wants it too. No bullshitting, right?

"Nevermind then, Mam. Don't worry, I won't get you anything. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." You reach for the remote that fell to the floor during all the commotion. "We don't have to finish the mo-"

You squeal in shock as Mammon throws himself into you. It's enough force to knock you back onto the pillows sprawled all over. You're speechless as he hides his face into your neck. He's never gotten this close to you. 

"S'fine." His grip on you tightens. "A matching necklace, s'good."

You can't contain yourself. "Mam, look at me."

He hums but doesn't move.

"Mammon, look at me." You're gentle with him as you cup his cheeks. 

"Seriously, you would accept it?" 

"Now you're just bein' cruel. I said it's good, didn't I?!" You can feel the sting of tears building. You don't think you've ever been this happy. 

You rub your thumbs over his cheeks. "Hey, Mam?"

"Whatd’ya want now?" 

"Can I kiss you?"  

In an instant, you're pressed back into the pillows, Mammon's lips on yours. It's not fireworks like humans talk about, nor the clashing of fangs as demons might do. It's tender and filled with a longing buried deep within the soul. It's messy. It's unexpected. It's perfect. 

You pull back to catch your breath and are touched by the unshed tears in Mammon's glassy eyes. It seems the sensation was mutual.

"I love you, Mam." 

You can figure out what this means for you two going forward tomorrow. You can ask about the callouses on his hands or for the stories of hardship behind the scars. You can discuss where courtships went wrong for you both, talk through your communication struggles, and love each other openly without fear. You're just so happy, really, that he'll let you love him. 

"I love ya too, MC."  He settles back into your arms, and you two lay there for some time, movie all but forgotten.

It's when the credits roll that Mammon shoots up, rushing to grab his jacket.

"Ah, shit!" He digs into his jacket pockets, pulling out a couple bags of hellfire twists. Your shared favorite movie treat.

"I meant to give this to ya earlier. So, ya know, we could have a snack during the movie." You chuckle at him as he rubs the back of his neck.

"We still can. Ever heard of ``To Capture a Beating Heart”?"

[pink-concorde]

☾𖤓 Happy Zutara Month! 𖤓☽

Day Seven: Touch Starved

“Of course he just had to sleep shirtless.”

So I originally had nothing planned for this day of Zutara Month, but then I read @jasmine-tea-latte’s chapter for the day and I had to draw something.

[parallelity]

Cannot explain the impact of Skam... A tv show with the most interesting formats: instagram, shortclips etc etc. Tackling the apathy, mundanity and vibrance of adolescence in a social media/ rapid world. Each new POV with the opportunity to give light to different stories. Then... the global remakes! Seeing how different countries weave their culture, their own twists, onto familiar stories. Parallel narratives where things can be different in small ways or take a complete 180.

Whether you see it as Isak and Even's parallel universes or the same stories happening all over the globe... It's beautiful how we got to see it happen.

[sunnysssol]

post meetup melancholy hitting hard 💔

[inky-toons]

The comically sappy urge to randomly reach out to him and ask to fall asleep on call again cos even tho that stuff scares me it's soothing when it's with him

Idk I used to have a very specific way of seeing things until he pranced along omfg..HE MADE ME LIKE CHRISTMAS he already knows I kinda like Christmas but I liked it even more after last Christmas. I was making a gingerbread house and he INSISTED on seeing it but I wanted it to be just right and at that time I wos with my mum and she bought SOME SHITTY BRAND AND IT ALL FELL APART SO I THREW IT OUT AND HE STILL WONT LET IT GO?? He also used to make daily hot chocolates and he'd show me like. That's now a holiday I look forward to. Wtf. It's also foreign for me to like certain things about myself but he makes me genuinely like myself and love myself onfg. I sent him a picture of the day I got my bass and I was holding it AND ACCORDING TO HIM HE FOUND IT CUTE HOW I "Stood there like I wasn't trying to look proud but I definetly was" HOW DO YOU TELL THAT FROM A PICTURE I NEED HIM DEAD. I was proud though that bass is my life

Idk we've had our ups and downs and I can tell it's all true love cos we always come back with a strong I love you.

Shakes my head..only thing is im not actually dating him, not rn anyway cos my mental health is wavered with where I'm living so now I have to wait for college and really jump in and woo him. I'm gonna adjust to college, figure out some life stuff then try and ask him out TWHEHEH 😝‼️ He'll say yes cos we're both in love so I'm just...heh...that good..

[starscelly]

roope cam

dal@wpg 11.28.23

[crabonfire]

the sheer lack of demo fics are killing me. but whenever I make stand-alone fics of characters I like it ends up BADDD

[kyouka-supremacy]

do u have any sskk fic recs?? if u r comfortable w sharing ofc!!!

Please check out this post!! Those are all extremely good fics in my opinion :)

New additions to that I can think of (but am definitely missing some. I've been reading fics very sporadically the last months) are:

↳ requited and fermata and flamingoes by ayanuz (zigur)

I read a couple of fics from author (that became a couple of couples) and was absolutely blown away. I remember thinking, it's miraculous how in character they can write sskk before chapters 84-88 even came out- I definitely wouldn't have been able to in their place. Found them while looking for chuuaku fics and I'm so glad I did, amazing writing 1000/10 would die for it

↳ my body is a cage by getintrouble

Aaaahh the Akutagawa characterization. The Akutagawa that would do anything for Atsushi- he died for him, he died for him, he died for him. So beautiful, I love this fic

↳ I love you by averagecerealenjoyer

I'm sorry for keeping recommending microfics but this fic actually means everything to me, I've reread it a thousand times. It's so soft and spontaneous and everything sskk are tbh. Fics that make me feel like the world is okay actually

↳ my mouth desires to spill by lizandre

Read this a few weeks ago and it really stuck with me! It's very very cute until it takes an abrupt morbid twist which is... something. Like there's a few darker sskk fics, and my feelings for them are quite mixed. Thing is, what one usually expects from fics is romance, and there is romance, but when it comes to sskk there's also the ugly part to it you know? The part where they want to gash and eat each other- in the worst way possible. Which is fascinating to explore because that **is** sskk!! One could argue the entirety of Beast is dedicated to explore that gruesome side of their psyche; but it is still disturbing to read about it, it's meant to be disturbing. That's the appeal of the whole ship, its double, twisted nature! It's just an aspect not that many fics tackle, and when one does it often comes as unexpected. It leaves a different taste in your mouth ahah. I'm rambling, but I found this fic very insightful nonetheless!!!

Please refer to my bsd fics tag for more recommendations!

[fstbmp-a]

When you haven't seen your wife in ages (a day) and she walks into the room.

A positively wonderful fantastic spectacular little animatic done by Mint (@rgtag) of Olympia over a p/enny p/arker clip, since she's Olympia's voiceclaim.

PLEASE ONLY REBLOG IF YOU'RE A MUTUAL OR I WILL EXPLODE YOU WITH MY PSIONIC POWERS.

[blood-starved-beast]

the way I got way too good way too fast at the Hades 2 tech test

I was hoping you know, that I'd suck more and get more interactions and such, but nah. At least I managed to gift Moros and Nemesis some nectar.

[thefanciestborrower]

I think it’s so interesting how we as a community really like exploring this soft, beautifully poetic quality of vore, but only ever seem to do so in writing. I’ve seen so many lovely poems and short stories waxing on in beautiful prose about the beautiful inner workings of the human body and the intimacy and trust that comes with having another person literally inside you, but when it comes to art you almost never see that. Sure art often focuses on those same qualities as well but...they’re never emphasized as beautiful in quite the same way I think. And maybe that’s why my art is so soft and almost like...classical feeling? Because every time I draw I want to capture that poetic beauty in a visual format. Something that, while painting a visual picture, also evokes a very special sense of awe. Even in the silly little scenarios I draw or the spookier pieces I post every once in a while I find myself trying to integrate older styles of poetry and artistry I don’t see much now. And maybe...maybe that’s why my art feels so nostalgic...

Who knows

Perhaps I’m just a hopeless romantic

[cursedfell]

" sooo... " satoru leans against the door, grin on his face. " how's the reunion with megumi going? "

yume’s  smile  falters,  and  a  deep  sadness  settles  in  her  eyes  as  she  glances  at  satoru.  “it  feels  like  i’m  holding  onto  a  dream,”  she  says  softly,  her  voice  carrying  the  weight  of  years  lost.  “seeing  him  again…  i  can’t  help  but  feel  the  ache  of  all  the  moments  i  wasn’t  there  for,  the  years  i  couldn’t  watch  him  grow.  it’s  like  trying  to  catch  the  rain—so  many  precious  moments  that  slipped  through  my  fingers.”

her  gaze  drifts  toward  where  megumi  had  gone,  her  heart  swelling  with  both  gratitude  and  longing.  “but  he’s  here,”  she  whispers,  a  tremor  in  her  voice.  “he’s  alive.  and  somehow,  so  am  i.  it  feels  like  a  gift  i  don’t  deserve,  to  be  given  this  second  chance…  to  hear  his  voice  again,  to  see  his  face,  to  breathe  in  the  scent  that  tells  me  he’s  really  real.”  she  closes  her  eyes  for  a  moment,  as  if  trying  to  etch  every  detail  into  her  memory.  “i  want  to  hold  onto  every  little  piece  of  him…  the  way  he  looks  at  me,  the  sound  of  his  laughter,  even  the  quiet  moments.  i  never  want  to  forget  what  my  son  feels  like  to  love.”

when  she  looks  back  at  satoru,  there’s  a  deep  gratitude  in  her  gaze,  but  also  an  unmistakable  ache.  “thank  you,”  she  murmurs,  her  voice  thick  with  emotion.  “for  giving  me  back  a  piece  of  my  heart  that  i  thought  was  lost  forever.  i  love  him  more  than  i  have  words  for…  and  i’m  going  to  cherish  every  single  moment  i  have  with  him,  even  if  it’s  not  enough  to  make  up  for  all  the  time  i  missed.”