#i am churning these out

[zephyrchama]

"Welcome back, it's been a while."

After a long time has passed, how might the Obey Me! demons welcome you home with a hug?

---

Lucifer tries to approach you in a calm and collected manner, but that facade easily crumbles as he gets closer. His pace quickens and his expression melts into an inscrutable blend of emotion. The man is fighting to stay composed.

He pulls you towards him, unwilling to wait a moment longer to have you in his arms. His gloved hands wrap around your back and waist with a secure grip. Your toes brush the ground as his hug lifts you to eye level, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Welcome back, I've missed you."

---

Mammon sprints up with the goofiest grin imaginable plastered on his face. He catches himself at the last moment though, grinding to a halt as a blush creeps over his ears. He wants to be cool. "You sure are a piece a work to keep The Great Mammon waiting."

His arrogant act is betrayed by the many glances in your direction. By the way he's clenching his fist so hard his knuckles are white, and by the way he immediately crumbles into your open arms the second you reach out. He throws his arms around your shoulders and digs his face into your neck. He grips the back of your top a little too hard, as if you might leave again any moment.

---

Leviathan sheds his insecurities and doubts, all negative emotions, just to be able to bask in your presence again. It's a moment he's looked forward to for weeks. He puts trust into the belief that you've also been looking forward to seeing him.

He wraps his arms and legs around you, unconsciously aiming to get as much skin contact as possible. "I've really missed you, you know!?" he half-shouts before burying his face in your shoulder. You fight to stay standing upright. Every little movement, every minor adjustment in posture you make causes Leviathan to snuggle closer until you can't tell where your limbs end and his begin.

---

Satan can't control all of the overwhelming emotions that hit him at once. He grabs hold of your hand, and with a palm on your back he pulls you close until your entire weight leans against him. At your touch, all he can do is smile.

"Glad to see you again." The two of you sway back and forth, turning your hug into a psuedo-Waltz. When you look into his eyes, Satan gives your hand a kiss and presses your intertwined fingers against his face.

---

Asmodeus laughs as he barrels into you. "Did you miss me? Of course you did!"

You stumble back several steps yet he catches you before you fall, latching onto your side like a matching puzzle piece. He rubs his cheek over your head, pausing every few seconds to give you a kiss as his free hand enthusiastically traces its way up your back.

Asmodeus is the most reluctant to let go. Making a mess of your hair and clothes only gives him a calculated opportunity to touch you more as he tidies up your appearance. His caress lingers over your collarbone and around your ear. His fingers brush against your mouth, which he then brings to his own lips.

---

Beelzebub falls to his knees, relieved to see you return safe and sound and glad to be by your side once more. His arms curl around your hips. He noses his face into your chest and looks up with a content smile as he greets you, "welcome back."

You lean over to return the hug, running your hands through his hair. You don't expect Beelzebub to stand, picking you up in the process. You steady yourself on his shoulders as he rises, his violet eyes not wavering from you for a second, tempting him to steal a kiss.

---

Belphegor wraps his arms around your shoulders and practically falls on you. He doesn't seem concerned that you're sinking to the ground. In fact, he's so preoccupied with cuddling up to you that there's no way to avoid sitting on the ground with this demon on top of you.

He curls his body around your legs. You feel his warm breath on your neck as he slowly exhales, "welcome back." He's awake, but nothing will stop him from pretending to be asleep as his grip strength loosens and his face trails down your body.

---

Diavolo laughs amicably as you approach. He wants you to come to him, and is so thrilled to have you back. He bends down to latch his arms under yours and swings you around, sweeping you off your feet as you twirl two, three times, then slow to a stop.

"How have you been?" In due time he wants to know everything, and hear all the stories of your time away in detail. For now, he's got you locked in a bear hug. You feel his lips brush over your hair as he lightly swings you back and forth.

---

Barbatos' hug is the most restrained. It's simple and polite. At first he was content to just greet you with a gentle handshake and loving gaze. Though, when you request a hug, there is no way he can say no.

He extends his arms around your back, gives you two soft pats, and hesitates for just a moment before letting you go.

At night that evening as you prepare for bed, you find a note in your pocket that Barbatos must have cunningly slipped in without anyone noticing. It's a detailed letter with everything he didn't get to tell you in person.

[mothwingwritings]

Zayne goes back to work the day after his birthday and everyone takes note of the pep he has in his step. The usually stern, down-to-business doctor has been grinning ear to ear since he stepped through the door, and all the patients, doctors, and nurses can't help but notice how vibrant he is. Zayne is positively beaming- his grim aura nonexistent through the brilliance he is currently exhibiting

Most people are confused by this sudden and aggressive shift in his demeanor, but chock it up to Zayne just being in a particularly nice mood after his trip. Whatever happened on his leave must have been truly wonderful for the doctor, and that happiness was contagious. The residents of the hospital can't help but be pleased that Asko's pride and joy finally seemed to get a moment of blissful respite.

Only Greyson and Yvonne exchange knowing looks, understanding the truth of the situation immediately. Hit with the realization of just how good his mini-vacation was (and how most of that was thanks to you), they can't help but tease their friend a bit, taking turns asking prodding questions, snickering when the only response he provides is clearing his throat and demanding they get back to work.

However it's up to Yvonne to break the news to Zayne, as it became apparent that while Greyson noticed it as well, he was too flustered by seeing it to say anything. Zayne probably thought he was being safe wearing that turtleneck under his lab coat, despite the fact that it was still far too hot aside for such attire. Unluckily for him the signs of your affection would not be so easily contained, and the large red and purple splotch the crept past the hem of his collar was not something that could be played off as a simple wound-the teeth marks made sure of that.

She had never seen Zayne turn quite so red as the moment she pulled him aside and told him, and for a moment she felt almost bad for telling him, wondering if maybe she should have let him figure it out on his own to save him from the awkwardness. However when she looked back on the man as she was departing, watching as he gingerly touched your mark, a roguish smile dancing on his lips as it no doubt made him reminisce about the moment he received it from you, that she realized his blush was not from embarrassment alone.

[artoutforblood]

I really like @bamsara fic The Rehabilitation of Death,That fucking SCENE this last chapter. The implications of that flashback. Absolutely marvelous. The angst. I love it

[ryonello]

oomfie take my hand

[mokadevs]

to the fruits of your labor

[clouvu]

Acorn x Wobin thoughts on the brain rn

[starflungwaddledee]

artfight attacks of @aseuki's lady helia and @das-a-kirby-blog's cherubim knight!

[teejaystumbles]

@dreamlingbingo square/prompt: E3 - Tattoos + Lingerie (adoptable)

Rating: T

Ship: Dream/Hob

Additional tags: partial nudity

Summary: Dream has a sursprise for his boyfriend :3

[lyfrassiredda]

I, too, have had a vision of a vast and fiery orb floating in an endless void—

[gardenerian]

Remember when they told you it gets better when you're older/ Well for now I still feel like a kid

[johnbleepingzoidberg]

OK I LIED ABOUT PROBABLY NEVER FINISHING THIS LOL I CHURNED IT OUT IN LIKE 2 HOURS

enjoy this team flare!sycamore and lysandre bs i drew instead of working like i should be doing 😭😭

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Now that I know more about writing, I'm upset at all the writing advice that urged new writers to find the one best way to write stories, when they should be telling us to play with writing techniques like toys.

Don't tell us to avoid certain points of view! Don't box us into the one currently popular prose style! Let us play and see what effects different techniques achieve, so we can learn the best ways to make use of them! Give us a whole ton of possibility instead of one cookie-cutter template!

[a-luyarus]

dreaming of the outside

[anamelessfool]

Papa's Metamorphosis (pt 2)

An Interactive Adventure (hashtag #papas metamorphosis) Part 1

One morning, as Papa Emeritus IV wakes from anxious dreams, he discovers that in bed he had been changed into a tiny, evil little doll.

Hahaha, please I am just razzing you. It's the Dungeon Master in me. (And these options will come up again) OK, enjoy part 2. And Vote on what happens next. CW: Drug References

Onward to the Ghoul Den

Papa takes a small comfort in the fact that despite his predicament, his rats still recognize him. Two of his favorites waddle up to the side of their cage, rubbing their nose against his outstretched felt nub hand. It’s oddly heartwarming to see them at the size of small ponies. Worst case scenario if he never figures this all out he can at least literally cuddle pile with his rats at this scale. “Stay strong for me, my little potatoes,” Papa soothes, more to himself than anything. “I’m sorry your breakfast will have to wait.”

Papa steels himself with a fortifying breath, preparing for the journey ahead. His ghouls would know what to do. And would probably not laugh at him for whatever he looked like right now. He slips out of his rooms and into the hallway, flattening himself against the walls to avoid detection as he scurries towards the ghoul den. Luckily the ghouls lived downstairs and therefore he could simply throw himself down the steps, bouncing stupidly the whole way and remain relatively unharmed. Upstairs would be a tough climb stair by stair but Papa does what always has and looks on the bright side. The ghouls will immediately solve all his problems painlessly and he would emerge from this situation completely unscathed and able to climb stairs with ease.

Naturally.

Papa knew ghouls are nocturnal but as far as he was concerned this was an emergency situation that warranted an urgent wake up call. He’s now in front of their rooms in the basement of the ministry, preparing himself for one of the most impossible challenges he’s yet faced in his life: opening their heavy front door.

He gets a running start from across the hall, slamming his body against the door. He bounces back and skitters across the floor, the door still shut. Cazzo. He rubs his head and tries again, putting his weight into it and again he flies back, gasping.

As he dusts himself off and swears, his rats come to mind. He knows rats can squeeze under a place as long as their skulls can fit. They're very collapsible and resilient. He eyes the crack under the ancient door. It's quite large now that he looks at it. He presses his head in his hands, then holds them out to measure. Yes, he could do it.

And so Papa maneuvers his head under the door, and his plush body compresses as he slides through, groaning through gritted teeth as he forces himself through the vice made by the door and the floor. But he’s through. It worked. He makes a mental note to never do any major upgrades to the Ministry as long as he’s Frater Imperator. They really don’t make shitty, drafty doors like they used to.

All at once Papa is hit with the strong, pissy herbal scent of cannabis in the air, and he hopes it doesn’t leech into his stuffing. Merde, these ghouls need to get a grip, he thinks. Their common area is relatively clean except for several empty pizza boxes stacked beside the sagging couch. There’s a few towering water pipes and empty soda bottles on the coffee table. Papa sees three of his ghouls distorted through all the glassware, dozing across each other on the couch: Swiss Ghoul, Mountain Ghoul, and Aurora Ghoul.

“Ghouls! Ghouls!” yells Papa as loud as he can. “My Ghouls!”

Swiss blinks his puffy red eyes several times, assessing and reassessing his vision. Copia bounces in place by the couch, muttering the whole time. Swiss regards the mess on the coffee table, coughs, then taps the other ghouls awake. They all slowly come back to life, rubbing their heads.

“Am I seeing this?” Aurora asks, swiping at the air. Papa jumps back, narrowly missing her claws. “Like…is this guy real?”

“This is the wrong shit to be seeing tiny people with, Rory,” mutters Swiss. “Yeah. This thing is real.”

“Erm, this eh, thing, is your Papa,” sputters Papa. “Copia. Your summoner. You, uh…have to help me?”

“Holy shit he’s small.” Aurora Ghoul is shaking, drawing her knees up to her chest. “Or am I big? Am I like, super big now? Hoooly shit, guys—”

“Rory, stop being dramatic,” Mountain says, still leaned back on the couch. “You had like, half a puff of this. Honestly.”

Copia attempts to climb the coffee table, but the smooth wood legs slip under his little felt hands. “Don’t you ghouls em, know magic? You know…spells?”

The three ghouls exchange glances. They silently decide Mountain is the one articulate enough to break the bad news to their Dark Master. “Well…did you specify we’d be able to do magic? When you summoned us?”

“I don’t…” Papa frowns, stamping a little foot on the rug. “Listen, it’s not that important right now! Do you know spells or not?”

”I mean…thing about magic is, you gotta be real specific,” Swiss adds, with a shrug and a phlegmy green cough. “That’s kinda its whole bag. You wanted musicians and uh…well, you got ones.”

”With all the musical talents of Satan himself,” Aurora Ghoul adds with pride. “And I’m pretty good at making cocktails.”

“She really is good,” says Mountain.

“But that was that bartending course I did during off season, nothing magical about that.”

Papa feels the vibration of heavy, sleepy footfalls arriving from the bedrooms and Cumulus appears, bleary eyed and wearing a massive purple silk sleep bonnet. She already begins her tirade against the noisy ghouls as she enters the main room, crossing it to get to the fridge. “What the fuck are you going on about? I swear if you bought more of that gas station weed again—”

Swiss tosses his arm at her. “No, no, that was a single stupid mistake!”

“Yeah we test it all on Phantom first now,” says Aurora.

Cumulus rips open the fridge and removes the carton of orange juice, snatching a clean glass from the counter. “Yeah well, about that…” She is mid-pour when her eyes land on Copia standing by the coffee table and waving his little felt arms. Her face falls into a mask of confusion, and for a few seconds she forgets her glass is full and juice splatters across the floor. “Do we have…pests?”

“It’s me!” cries Papa. He hops up and down, attempting a friendly smile. “I’ve been cursed!”

“He’s been cursed, ‘Lus,” Mountain says helpfully.

Cumulus Ghoul places her glass on the counter, her brow furrowed, her head slowly tilting in bewilderment. There’s a tense silence as she studies the paraphenalia scattered across the coffee table, then her packmates, and then the impossibly tiny version of her boss fretting on the shag rug. She blinks, once.

“I’m going back to bed.”

And she does.

“You all are just….just!” Papa crosses his arms. “A real em—drag!”

“Sorry, Papa,” says Swiss. “That's fucked up. That's a total bummer, man.”

“You want to retrace your steps or something?” Mountain suggests.

“No, certainly not!” Papa is incensed and in his mind he’s done with these ghouls. He marches through the common room, his thin felt legs flailing in a determined and irritated goose step. “I'm looking for ghouls with er— brains! Some common sense!”

He reaches the hallway with its bathroom and three adjacent dorm rooms for the rest of his dark army. Certainly not all of them are lazy degenerates, Papa thinks as he adjusts the tiny hat on his head. One of them at least would have a good head on their shoulders…

Your vote contributes to how this story goes. As for the "Other" option I have a right to pick and chose what works for me personally. This story is PG-13.

The polls are 24 hours but I may not post every day.

Please reblog for maximum impact! Let's have fun here.

[lacecap]

i saw you once in a dream

[lunafeatherart]

Varric lifted his hand to her face and cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb along the sharp jut of her jaw. “Be safe out there, alright?” His words were as soft as his caress, and full of meaning.

Cassandra’s mouth fell slightly open, and the blush that now spread from nose to cheeks to ears to neck was irrefutable. They hung there for a moment, still and breathless, the unlikely pair locked in their dance.

Varric began to pull his hand away when Cassandra suddenly lurched forward, twisting her fingers into the front of his half open tunic and hauling him up onto his toes. The crush of her lips against his swallowed the sound of his surprise. He remained frozen for a split second before he kissed her back, the hand on her jaw sliding up into her hair, his other wrapping firmly around her hip.

(Read the rest of this micro fic here)