#ch OMS

[doble-d-2]

Comic viejo que no voy a terminar

Para el tiempo en que hice el comic ya habia más de un año de cuarentena, y acababan de desvivir al presidente de Haití...

El comic constaba de un monton de problemas e incomodidades que ocurren en la comunidad countryhumans, mientras que de fondo aparecian chistes crueles con diversos paises, por lo que el comic mostraba las razones de porque el fandom sigue gustando y a la vez genera odio.

Decidi cancelarlo debido a que el desarrollo generaria mucha polemica.

[starlit-bun]

therapy is redrawing obey me cards in your style, actually

(og card under cut)

[daytaker]

Trapped together with Belphie for the writing troupe!!

Well, friend, I went and accidentally ended up writing angst with no romantic ship at all. But once I had the idea of rewriting the attic scene from Lesson 16, I couldn't do anything else. Basically, it seems strange to me that Lilith more or less possesses you, the Main Character, both before and after the encounter with Belphie, but does absolutely nothing to try and stop the murder from actually happening. Like, come on, great x 27 grandma, give us a little grace here. (Plus, having him not actually literally kill you would have made the next few chapters way less awkward. I mean, really. Almost killed you? Well so have Levi and Lucifer and Beel...)

(Also I spent 15 story keys to finish the Hide & Seek card of Belphie's since I knew it would come in handy for this. It did.)

What Happened in the Attic

Belphegor & MC/Lilith Genre: Angst, some comfort Word Count: 1.3k CW: Attempted murder?

[Part of my 250 Followers Mini Event!]

It was all...strange. Not just in the sense that it was a time paradox. For a moment, you weren’t yourself, and you pressed your hand to the spot in the wall where you’d heard Belphegor’s voice. A door appeared; the door you’d seen each time you sneaked up to the attic to talk to the seventh brother. The door you knew by instinct but not by sight. The door… The door… Yes, that’s the door. That’s the door that needed to be opened. You understood. Or…some part of you understood. Or…something inside of you understood.

Lilith understood.

You opened the door with a touch. You stepped inside. And the door behind you vanished. 

Without paying that any mind, you looked ahead into the attic room. Sleeping on the bed was your big brother—no… It was Belphegor. He was curled up, hugging a pillow, and mumbling in his sleep. A strange explosion of affection flooded you, nearly bowling you over. You felt tears pressing at the backs of your eyes. Belphie. It was Belphie. You’d missed him so much.

(You barely knew him.)

You’d hoped he’d found happiness. You’d hoped he hadn’t blamed you.

(Blamed you for what?)

“Belphegor,” you said in a foreign voice as you approached the bed.

“Lilith,” mumbled the sleeping demon, stirring. “...Miss you…”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was strange again; somehow outside you, though your lips moved.

Belphie stirred again, opening his eyes and turning his head to face you. And for a moment, he stared at you with a dazed expression that toed the line between astonishment and joy.

“Lilith?” His voice cracked and he reached out to you…

Then it was over. His expression dulled, he withdrew his hand, and he gave you a look of disgust.

“...How did you get in here?”

“I’m not sure,” you answered honestly.

Rolling out of bed, Belphegor walked to the spot in the wall where the door sometimes appeared. There was nothing. He ran his fingers over it, he pushed, he kicked it; he rammed into it with his shoulder. Still, nothing.

“How did you get in here?” he demanded again, his voice cracking this time with a sort of desperate rage.

“Lilith.”

The voice was yours, though the inspiration wasn’t. It was true though; you knew it was true.

Belphie, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure. Already in tears, his horns and tail seemed to flow from his body like smoke as he stalked towards you. “Don’t… Don’t you dare say that name!” His hands formed tight fists and he clenched his teeth, shaking with rage. “How DARE you say that name!”

You should have been scared. The demon before you was quaking with rage and grief and confusion. A dark energy whirled around him as if he stood at the eye of a hurricane. But you felt nothing but calm.

“Belphie,” you said again. “Lilith let me in.”

“No she didn’t!” he screamed, stepping forward clumsily as tears flowed from his eyes. “Lilith is dead! She’s dead, and it’s all thanks to you! You killed her! You killed…!”

He was on top of you in an instant, his hands on your throat, and big salty tears caught on your tongue. You didn’t struggle. You just…stared at him, with a feeling of deep, aching sorrow.

“Belphie. Big brother.”

The hands were off your throat. Belphegor took a few staggering steps back, his violet eyes wide and disbelieving. “N-No… No! No, no! Witch! Or… Magician! Con artist!”

You coughed, keeled forwards with your hands on your throat as he shouted accusations at you.

“Liar! You’re a liar! H-How dare… How dare you use her voice!”

You take a few more deep breaths before your grip on your throat loosened and you spoke again, looking at Belphegor. “...Do you remember when we played hide and seek? The time when you couldn’t find me? Levi found me before you did, and he told me you were searching everywhere. You were frantic, like you might start crying. You did start crying, before I found you.”

Belphie looked at you distrustfully. His lips were tightly pursed, and his entire posture was guarded and suspicious.

“You were so angry when I found you, I thought you’d never forgive me. But you did. I shouldn’t have been worried about something like that, really. You always forgave me for whatever I did.”

The words kept flowing from your mouth, and Belphegor kept staring at you with this strange look, like he wanted to kill you, or embrace you, or hide from you, but he couldn’t do any of them.

“You told me later you were afraid that I wouldn’t forgive you for leaving me alone so long. You thought I was hiding on purpose to punish you. You should have known better than that too, dummy.”

Belphie’s lips moved. There was a short, sharp intake of air. His gaze darted to the floor.

“...I have nightmares about that game sometimes,” he murmured. “Well… something that feels like that game, at first. But I’m searching for you in the House of Lamentation, and I can’t remember where your room is. I come looking for you in the attic, and Lucifer stops me from reaching the top of the stairs, and he tells me that you’re dead. He tells me I’ll never see you again.”

Belphegor’s lips moved again, as silently as earlier, and his face slowly contorted. It was ugly to see; heartbreaking to see. 

“Why can’t you come back and find me?” he finally whispered. “Why can’t you forgive me like last time?”

His horns and tail faded away as he curled up on the floor, his head in his hands, and he looked less like a demon and more like a frightened child. You knelt down before him. …Lilith knelt down before him, you supposed. You were just along for the ride.

“I’m sorry, Belphie,” you said softly. “I’m sorry I can’t come back and find you. It’s too late for that. But I forgive you.”

Belphegor looked up at you with red-rimmed eyes, his expression tired and heart-breakingly lonely. “...Forgive me…?”

“For showing me the human world. For surviving the war. You don’t need my forgiveness for any of that, but if you want it, I’ll give it to you.” You reached a hand out, and Belphie took it, a few silent tears spilling down his cheeks as he stared vacantly past me. “Belphie… This isn’t what I wanted for you. You loved the human world. We shared that together. So why…?”

“If it wasn’t for those…humans, you’d be with me now! How can you say that?”

“I am with you now. I never left you.”

“...Sentimental and stupid. I never thought I’d hear something like that from you.”

You laughed. Belphie smiled slightly.

“Don’t hate what I love, just because I loved it.” You touched his cheek tenderly. “I made my own choices. The Celestial Realm punished me. The human world must have made for an easy scapegoat, but nothing more than that. You know that, Belphie.”

“I still hate them.”

“Fine. But don’t kill them. They’re my family, Belphie. Just like you. I love you, Belphegor.”

“I love you, Lilith.”

Within a few seconds, the magic was gone. You felt yourself emptied of something, and Belphie’s look of serenity faded from his face. Withdrawing your hand from his cheek, you stood and looked at the attic wall.

The door stood open.

Belphie’s eyes were fixed on the same thing.

You extended a hand to him, and for a moment, he hid his face. You heard a quiet sniffle. Then, he took your hand and let you pull him to his feet.

Neither of you ever really discussed what happened in the attic that day. Neither of you understood it. But Belphie spent long hours there afterwards, despite it having been his prison for so long.

You thought you might know why.

[littlestardescendants]

Yalls Ch. 5 left a sour taste in my mouth. I'm feeling like delving deeper into Mirjami my MC because the generic WHB MC is such a waste of thought.

So...

[seekforwarmth]

thanks for your support! ♡ buy me a coffee? fics ordered from newest to oldest.

໑ coming home harry/louis | E | 2k

It’s coming home, one way or another.

໑ spring in your eyes harry/louis | NR | 3k

“Just Go with It” inspired AU where plastic surgeon Harry pretends to be married to his assistant Louis to avoid unwanted attention.

໑ don’t let the fire die harry/louis | E | 8k

Harry makes a long trip to take back what is his.

໑ must be love louis/andrew garfield | NR | 6k

AU where Louis doesn’t know how to approach his neighbour, and Andrew keeps receiving homegrown vegetables at his door.

໑ could start a cult harry/louis | E | 8k

He lowers down the top that Louis is wearing, successfully unclasping his nursing bra as well, letting Louis’ tits bounce at the sudden movement. Harry massages both breasts to stimulate the milk flow, and he can feel his cock hardening inside his pants.

or...Harry can’t get enough of Louis’ breast milk.

໑ two languages, one love louis/cillian murphy | NR | 3k

The three times Louis speaks to Cillian in Spanish, and the one time he finally gets a response.

໑ Cold Spring louis/pedro pascal | E | 8k

Life went on as normal at Cold Spring Café. Sam’s scribbles remained indiscernible, Jake persisted on his idea of getting more pots for the shop, and Pedro…Pedro continued coming to drink his moderately-caffeinated americano, to write furiously in that notebook of his, and to captivate Louis to no end.

or…Louis is a coffee shop owner and Pedro is his newest customer.

໑ Harmony harry/louis | E | 6k

Alpha Harry and Omega Louis don’t have the most amicable relationship at work. When they get stuck together in an elevator, Harry scents Louis after nothing else works to bring him out of his panicked state.

Their time trapped in the elevator together brings to light some misunderstandings, and maybe some feelings for each other, too.

໑ bet on it louis/omc | E | 3k

“We should make a bet,” Louis says out loud, waiting for Dante to look up from his tablet and see Louis’ pouty lips.

“Not a fucking chance.”

or…a fic inspired by Louis at the barricade during AFHF.

໑ the embers are new harry/louis | NR | 3k

Louis is a dragon vet whose life is changed after a long trip.

໑ seven, seven harry/louis | NR | 1k

“Hello, baby girl,” Harry says as soon as the nurse places the bundle of joy into his arms. “We’ve been dying to meet you.”

໑ fuck around, find out harry/louis | E | 6k

Harry is a renowned chef convinced he’ll be the one to make Louis like avocado. It doesn’t end well.

໑ Devoted louis/alisson becker | E | 5k

A collection of drabbles about Louis’ life as the housewife of a professional football player.

໑ ready for a war harry/louis | E | 1k

Harry was so close to getting caught, and it was all on that stupidly pretty cocktail waiter.

໑ find our place  louis/zayn | NR | 3k

“Fuck!” Louis says as he hangs up the phone and turns it off. He hopes the call didn’t connect, otherwise he would have to change his number. Again.

໑ over my shoulder louis/sebastian stan | E | 11k

The media thinks omega singer Louis Tomlinson is dating alpha actor Sebastian Stan because they bump into each other all the time.

Everything changes when they accidentally bond.

໑ Needle harry/louis | NR | 666

“You didn’t deserve this,” he muttered between hiccups. “She didn’t have the right.”

໑ reckless behaviour harry/louis | E | 13k

Harry is a retired football player looking for a new opportunity. Louis is the image consultant hired to help him find it.

໑ Monday harry/louis | NR | 2k

A flower shop AU featuring a one-sided feud, puns, and a missing cat.

໑ more than that harry/louis | NR | 3k

Harry looks for the best bread in France. He finds Louis.

໑ beg me silently harry/louis | E | 2k

“So, your boyfriend…is he planning a magic night for you at home?”

Louis snorts. “He’s not, actually. He’s pretty hardworking, you see, so he comes home late.”

“Such a shame.” Harry walks towards Louis, so close that they’re sharing the same space. “You’re so beautiful, Louis. If you were mine, I wouldn’t make you wait for me.”

໑ Thank you, five. harry/louis | E | 5k

“Harry?” He says as soon as he recognises the other man.

“Louis? Wh-what are you doing here?” Harry asks with a frown.

“Well, I’m here for rehearsal,” Louis announces with a proud smile.

There’s a flash of confusion on Harry’s face. “What do you mean rehearsal? I got the part, you didn’t.”

~

Prompt 195: Hamilton AU

໑ until you’re home harry/louis | E | 1k

Louis lives in London, Harry lives in Tokyo. They make it work.

໑ lying close to you harry/louis | NR | 2k

Harry’s been living for twenty-five years but he’s only felt alive for the past two.

[princessozera]

I'm going to punt him to the moon

I know what you are Barbatos

A bi-

[rosebleue]

If this world hates girlbosses winning, I'll simply create a new one

[weirdopponent]

The reflection tilts one way, and then another, so that its person can study the shape of its jaw. It was her fathers' face first, she'd been told. Vertebrae twist, another angle, another way Dimitri looks at the nose in this face. She never grew into his features. Joints roll in their sockets, creaking their protests, the shadows of her eyelashes falling against her cheek, projected by the dim light from the other room. She never figured out how to feel right with these bones, with how the cartilage had grown.

He wonders if his father would recognize him. His brave little princess.

[sinfvlwishs]

( sorry i'm just gonna say it out loud cuz the thought has been on my brain for literally months: DEMONS HAVE A NATURAL INSTINCT TO PROTECT. IT'S LITERALLY IN THEIR NATURE. ESP WHEN IT COMES TO HUMANS AND PARTICULARLY THOSE THEY HAVE PACTS WITH. >0> )

[offbeat-manga-ships]

HOSHIKAWA GINZA YONCHOUME (星川銀座四丁目)

Hoshikawa Ginza District 4 / Kurogane Kenn

Complete, with 25 chapters / 3 volumes

F/F; Yuri, Romance, Slice of Life, Comedy + lgbt, queer & ambqueer, queer character, ag, ag: yf x of, younger f, older f, teacher student

SUMMARY: This is the story between Matsuda Otome (a young girl who experienced parental neglect) and Nakagawa Minato (a school teacher).

Otome has gone through a difficult past and is now under the care of Minato-sensei. With Minato's determination, Otome's finally accepted and warmed up to her new guardian. As time goes by, their relationship gradually grew into something much more.

MAL score: 7.33 AL mean score: 69% MU average: 8

PERSONAL SCORE: 7 out of 10

[doble-d-2]

[lucy-shining-star]

...Was like ok I'm chagning browsers cause of that grey but then I remember here is another problem...

[dolly-macabre]

Rewriting some of these chapters got me fucked up 😂

[convxction]

I think Rebecca may be Chrom’s type. Unsure however, more testing might be needed

A true match made in heaven. No, he is not staring at her like she is the only thing he can see? She's everything he could hope for. He thought his world was colorful but with her, he is seeing new colors he didn't see before--sights, experiences, heck smells.

Life with her is PERFECT.

"Well, well, queen of Ylisse, what are you trying to achieve with this? Haven't you already stole and locked this heart to be yours, and yours only?" hand placed on his chest, over his heart. "Aren't you a bit greedy, my love?"

Hands gently cups her face, thumbs caressing her cheeks before he kisses her softly. "You don't have to write papers or fill in anything; I love you, and I know you love me. No need for all these roundabouts, perhaps this is the only shortcut I believe in--" and he kisses her again. "Direct and sweet... your style, no?" he chuckles at her leaning to kiss him again. "See? Screw papers... Rebecca, you have my heart and my love. I could've never asked for a better friend, partner and a wife than you. Thank you for giving me all these great memories--thank you for giving me a family, a warm home to return to every day."

are you mister fayre embrumu's type? | accepting | @pieman1112

[luveline]

aaahhh okay wait imagine Emily is away on a case longer than usual and comes home without telling r to surprise her and sees that reader has been like idk wearing her shirt or sleeping with her pillow or idk just like something to feel close to her

thank you for your request ♡ fem!reader

Emily knows you're in her bed before she's so much as opened her front door. She lives in a nice building across from Washington, DC, in an apartment that glows with the lights of the city. It takes time to get home after a case, but the view isn't one you'd find anywhere else. 

She'd fly a hundred hour flight if it meant getting to ch ome home to you. It sounds silly and corny, like a fairytale she didn't believe in, but there's something about you that inspires cliches. Like, your beat up converse arranged neatly so as not to disrupt her tower of high heels and boots. Your coat on the rack with the arms and hood smoothed down, and the way you arrange Sergei's food and water bowls intricately every time you visit because you're aware of Emily's penchant for orderliness. 

She knows you're here because of all of these things, but really, she has a freaky sixth sense when it comes to you, and seeing you curled up on her side of the bed cements it perfectly. 

She locks her gun away in its safe and puts her shoes and jacket away. Quiet, she slinks to where you're sleeping with the sheets up to your nose and bends down to check you over. She knows nothing has happened since she saw you last, but it doesn't matter. She needs to look at you properly. 

You're on your side, face angled down, arm a lump under the sheets. Emily smiles and, despite the singing urge to wipe away the day's faded makeup and brush out curls crunchy with hairspray, lingers, holding her hand up to your face, stroking a short line.

You won't wake from it. Maybe you're a heavy sleeper or maybe you know it's her, but she never wakes you up when she comes home. 

Sergei snores little nosed snores from his fluffy bed. Emily laughs as you do the same, though she frets (and she'd deny it if anyone asked, but frets all the same) that you can't breathe with the blankets smushed to your nose as they are. 

Gently, she pulls down the sheets. 

Her lips fall from their fond smile. Tucked in your arms like a life jacket is a soft white camisole, the last shirt Emily slept in before she left. 

She isn't excessively loud about loving you —she isn't quiet about wanting you, but that isn't the same— and you aren't overly forthcoming. 

Which isn't to say she doesn't feel loved, Emily knows she's loved in the same way you must know it, with the burning, aching sort of desire that has you pinching her hips when she walks by, or begging her to share a shower with you even if it'll make her late for work. But Emily hadn't realised how much you loved her in this sense. The difference between missing her company and missing the intrinsic smell of her skin is unsaid and yet yawning; you love her enough to curl around a dirty t-shirt. This is the kind of love that grows old together. 

Emily's particular about things, but not tonight. Fuck it, she hopes she gets mascara on the silk pillow case as she climbs into bed behind you. Let it be a monument to how she feels, any hint of fatigue replaced with silky soft wanting. 

"'Mily?" you murmur, covering her arm where it curves over your waist. 

"No," she whispers, "axe murderer. Sorry, babe, welcome to your nightmare." 

"I had a good run." You push her back a touch as you roll onto your back, squinting at her through thick-knitted lashes. 

"You can sleep. I'll still be here in the morning, I promise." 

"Y'here now. Missed you, Emily," you murmur, turning more, vying to hold her waist as she holds yours. You sound a little upset, but that could be the sudden wake up call. 

"I'm sorry," she says, smiling at you in hopes of getting one back. "But I'm home early. That's a good thing, right?" 

"Can I put my face in your neck?" you ask. 

Emily tries to say yes. All she can summon is a mute nod and a tight smile —she's happy, yeah, but she feels strangely like crying. It's a scary thing, finding out how loved you are. Suddenly she has to worry about it being taken away. 

You wrap your arms around her, your skin hot with a furnace like heat. Mumbling, your face fits into the curve of her neck, your lips skipping against it as you say, "Love you… you okay?" 

Her smile shocks back to life. She presses it to your forehead without hesitation. "I'm fine now. Love you. You can go back to sleep." 

"I really really missed you." 

Emily feels each word fan against her neck. It's a sensation she's sure she'll remember for years to come. "I missed you, too."