#is this realistic? no. is it tearing me apart inside? yes.

[frankiebirds]

usually my headcanon for spencer has been either bigender or unlabelled but Not Cis. but sometimes I think about genderfluid spencer where diana might not always know that she has a child, but when she does, she always knows if she has a son or daughter.

[starkeyslibrary]

Exile

Inspired by the song Exile by Taylor Swift

pairing: you x drew starkey

The café was quiet, save for the hum of soft jazz filtering through the speakers and the clinking of cups against saucers. You sat in a booth by the window, fingers wrapped around a mug of now-lukewarm coffee. The cloudy skies outside mirrored the storm brewing inside you. Drew was late—again.

You sighed, glancing at the empty chair across from you. The weight in your chest grew heavier with every tick of the clock. This wasn’t the first time he’d kept you waiting, but it felt different today. He’d been distant for weeks, his texts growing shorter, his excuses more frequent. It was as though he was drifting away, and you were powerless to stop it.

The door chimed, and there he was. Drew Starkey, with his messy hair, sharp jawline, and the same leather jacket he wore on your first date. He looked like a dream. He always did. But the tired look in his eyes and the hesitation in his step turned your stomach. He spotted you, offering a small, tentative smile as he walked over.

“Hey,” he said, sliding into the seat across from you.

“Hey,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. You watched as he fidgeted with the hem of his jacket, avoiding your gaze. The silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Drew, what’s going on?”

His head snapped up, and for a second, he looked startled. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Your voice was steady, but your hands trembled slightly as you set your mug down. “You’ve been... distant. Different. And I feel like I don’t know where I stand with you anymore.”

He sighed, leaning back in his seat. His hands rubbed his face, and you could see the exhaustion etched into every line of his expression. “I’ve been busy,” he said finally, his voice devoid of its usual warmth. “Work’s been insane, and... I don’t know. It’s not you.”

“It’s not me,” you repeated, bitterness creeping into your tone. “That’s all you’ve got?”

“What do you want me to say?” he snapped, his voice rising slightly. “That I’ve been overwhelmed? That I don’t know how to balance everything right now? Because I don’t.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me that?” you asked, your voice cracking. “Why did you just... shut me out instead?”

Drew looked away, his jaw clenching. “Because it’s easier that way.”

“Easier for who?” you demanded. “Because it sure as hell hasn’t been easy for me, Drew. I’ve been sitting here, trying to figure out what I did wrong. What I could’ve done differently. And you didn’t even give me the chance to fix it.”

“There’s nothing to fix!” he said, his frustration spilling over. “Don’t you get it? Sometimes, things just... fall apart.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stared at him, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. “So that’s it?” you whispered. “You’re just giving up?”

“I’m not giving up,” he said, but his voice lacked conviction. “I’m being realistic.”

“Realistic,” you repeated, your voice trembling. “No, Drew. What you’re being is a coward.”

His eyes snapped to yours, anger flashing across his face. “A coward? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously,” you said, leaning forward. “You’re running away because it’s easier than staying and fighting for what we have. And you know what? Maybe that’s on me for believing in us more than you did.”

“That’s not fair,” he said, his voice low. “You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t care?”

“I don’t know, Drew,” you said, throwing your hands up. “Because you won’t tell me anything! You won’t let me in!”

He fell silent, his fists clenching on the table. The air between you was charged, the weight of all the unsaid words pressing down on both of you. Finally, he looked at you, his blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name—regret, maybe. Or guilt.

“I tried,” he said quietly. “I really did. But we’re just... we’re not on the same page anymore.”

You felt the tears spill over now, hot and unrelenting. “So, what?” you said, your voice breaking. “You’re just going to walk away? After everything?”

“I don’t know what else to do,” he admitted, his voice thick. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

“You don’t even want to try,” you said, shaking your head. “You’ve already made up your mind.”

He didn’t deny it. And that hurt more than anything he could’ve said.

The drive home was a blur, the world outside your window smeared with rain and tears. By the time you reached your apartment, the ache in your chest had settled into something deeper, heavier. You kicked off your shoes and sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table. For a moment, you considered ignoring it. But when you saw Drew’s name on the screen, your heart clenched. You hesitated before opening the message.

“I’m sorry for tonight. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You stared at the words, the hollow apology doing little to ease the pain. You wanted to reply, to tell him how much he’d broken you, but what was the point? He’d already decided it was over.

Instead, you turned off your phone and curled up on the couch, letting the darkness swallow you whole.

The next week was a blur of numbness and routine. You went to work, smiled when you had to, and avoided any place where you might run into Drew. The ghost of him lingered everywhere—in the smell of coffee, in the playlists you couldn’t bring yourself to delete, in the way your chest tightened every time you passed his favorite bar.

One night, you found yourself sitting on your bed, staring at an old photo of the two of you. It was from last summer, at a carnival. Drew had his arm slung around your shoulders, his smile wide and carefree. You looked so happy, so full of hope.

That girl felt like a stranger now.

With a trembling hand, you placed the photo facedown on the nightstand. You couldn’t bring yourself to throw it away—not yet. Maybe not ever.

A month later, you saw him.

You were at a mutual friend’s party, a moment of weakness convincing you to show up despite your better judgment. And there he was, standing across the room with a beer in hand, laughing at something someone had said.

For a moment, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours. The room seemed to freeze. Neither of you moved, but the weight of that gaze was enough to shatter you all over again.

You turned and left before he could say a word.

—

The story of you and Drew didn’t end with fireworks or closure. It ended in silence, in the spaces between what was said and what was left unsaid. And as much as it hurt, you knew deep down that some stories aren’t meant to have happy endings. Some are just meant to teach you how to let go.

And so you did.

Eventually.

[kiarrahatesboys]

Realistically, today had been a good day. Most of Lena's technology worked perfectly, and any tweaks she needed to make went smoothly. Nia had bought her coffee. At a private moment around noon, Kara had kissed her cheek before flying off to do rounds on the city.

Lena, however, stands in the hallway of Kara’s apartment building wishing she could punch a hole or twelve into the drywall. Her keys - including the spare key to the loft that she had been given - fall out of her hand to the floor, and she feels the tension in her chest build.

It takes an eternal four seconds to pick them up, unlock the door, and step inside.

Kara stands by her kitchen sink, sipping from her purple water bottle. “Hi, baby.”

There is no will to look over and smile in response. Lena drops her purse on the floor and trudges straight to the bed. She falls face-first into it, feet dangling in the air.

All the blankets and abandoned clothes from this morning smell familiar. Lemon and woodsmoke – Kara. Lena likes to joke that the woodsmoke smell is because she flies so fast she burns up.

She can feel the furrow in her eyebrows, and what's worse is that she has no idea why it's there. It was a good day. She didn't even have to make a pit stop at Luthor Corp to put out any fires. There's nothing wrong.

The lack of explanation for her frustration makes her even more frustrated.

“Hey.” The mattress dips as Kara sits down. “Rough day?”

“No,” Lena says into blankets, suddenly near tears. She rolls over onto her back. “That's the thing, it was good. So why am I in meltdown territory?”

Kara’s hand is in her hair – soothing, home, safety. “I’m sorry. Let me help you?”

Lena nods, toeing off her shoes. They clatter to the floor. Kara offers her hands and pulls her into a sitting position. She helps Lena out of her day clothes and expertly offers the right pajamas. Good texture, good match, good breathability.

It takes a moment for her to start pulling them on as she prepares to go from stationary to in motion. The clean air surrounding her body after she changes helps to lessen the dread in her shoulders. Kara knows the little details to make her comfortable - hood up over her head, a fresh pair of socks. Once dressed, Lena flops over onto her side and curls up tight.

Kara leans over to kiss her head. She draws the curtains. The room becomes dark, and Lena feels her eyebrows relax. It’s a warm summer day outside, and the sun has made its presence clear. The darkness now dampening her vision offers peace.

“Do you want me around?” Kara asks, voice soft.

“Yes, please.” Lena sounds childlike. Her voice is fragile, muffled under her hands.

“Okay, scooch. Make room.”

Lena falls limp as a smile ghosts her face.

“Wow. Okay.” Kara heaves a dramatic sigh.

She feels Kara’s arms snake under her body. For a moment, she’s weightless, and then she’s gently set a foot or two over from where she was before. The mattress bounces again as Kara settles.

Lena reaches behind her to pull Kara's arm over her stomach and takes a deep breath.

“Good girl,” Kara says innocently.

“Hmm?”

“The deep breath. Proud of you.”

Lena’s body feels warm with love. “Thanks.”

The conversation lulls. Lena keeps breathing. Cool air keeps her temperature regulated under a hoodie and Kara’s body. Tension still weighs in her chest, but the accommodations matter. Kara doesn't even ask what she needs, she just knows. Lena barely has to move. She's surrounded by so much love.

“I wish I knew what was wrong.” she says into silence.

Kara hums, sounding sleepy and content.

“Like, nothing bad happened. I had a good day. Why do I feel like I want to implode?”

“You’re autistic, love.” Kara slips her hand beneath Lena’s hoodie to hold her tummy. “That happens. Sometimes there's no answer. I know you don't like that, I’m sorry.”

Lena hates how whiny she sounds. “But I want an answer! I want something to fix.”

“I know, baby.”

She sighs, then rolls over into Kara’s embrace. Having nothing to blame makes the situation feel unresolved. Agitation swirls in her gut, but she knows there's nothing to be done. Sometimes there are just days where the world is too much.

“Too much world.” Lena mumbles.

Kara puts a hand in her hair. “I know. I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

As much as the lack of answer makes things unfinished, the hoodie helps. Having the hood up helps. She has clean socks and a dark room. Her girlfriend loves her, and is warm and solid against her.

Despite it all, she's loved. And that’s important too.

"Thank you." she whispers into darkness.

Kara scratches gently at her scalp. "Always, baby."

Always.

[starlightsuffered]

Toxic

Warnings - stalking, toxic Tim, lack of boundaries, oral (female receiving), smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink

“What are you doing here?” I snarled at Timothée. I’d moved my stuff out of his place weeks ago. It’d been radio silence, and now he was outside of my new apartment.

“Let’s talk,” he said, his tone dark.

“There’s nothing to talk about. Also how did you know I live here?”

“I’ve been following you,” he said as though it were a completely normal thing to say.

“Excuse me?” I demanded. “You know Timothée, shit like this is EXACTLY why we broke up.”

“Shit like what?” He snapped. I began to unlock my door. I tried to shut him out, but he was too strong, and powered in.

“You have no boundaries!” I screeched. “I could never go out. You were insanely jealous of everything and everyone. You had a tracker on my phone.”

“God forbid I’m selfish with the woman I want to marry,” he retorted

“You wanted to marry me?” I asked, feeling my fondness for him return, for a moment. I shook my head, I had to be strong.

“Of course I did,” he said. “I want everything with you. I want you every second, of every minute, of every day.”

“That’s not realistic,” I said, but he could hear the weakness in my tone.

He leaned down and kissed me.

“Timothée,” I warned. He began to kiss down my neck.

“Tim,” I said helplessly.

“Tell me to go then,” he said, taking me in his arms. His hands caressed my body. “Mmm, I love you.”

“I want you to g-“ I couldn’t finish the sentence.

“What do you want baby? Tell me, you know I’d do anything for you,” he said.

“Kiss me,” I breathed. With this consent, his lips were on mine. It was not slow, the kiss was bruising and harsh. He was biting my bottom lip.

He was pushing me back, until we were at the couch. He was ripping off my skirt. I was heaving. He wasted no time diving into me.

His mouth was relentless. I could hardly stand the pleasure he was giving me. He was lapping at me, eating me so well, I almost had to scream

“Timmy, you’re going to make me come. Please, don’t stop,” I panted. His mouth continued moving, nails digging into my thighs.

“Fuck!” I shouted as my orgasm crashed into me. I convulsed as he licked me through it.

“See how fast I made you come?” He growled. “You wanna give this up?”

“No, Timmy, I was wrong,” I whimpered. “Will you fuck me, will you please, please, fuck me.”

“Of course,” he said gently.

We were tearing off each other’s clothes, the movements urgent and needy. Soon he was inside me and he was pumping in and out at an ungodly speed.

“Fuck, Timmy, so good,” I whined, as he stretched me out. My arousal was dripping down my thighs.

“That’s right baby, I’m so good for you aren’t I,” he teased.

“Yes,” I gasped.

“I’m going to fill you baby. I’m going to breed you,” he snarled.

“What?” I moaned.

“That’s right, I’m going to fuck you so much that you’re full of me. You’re going to be so swollen. You’re going to be full and round,” he growled as he continued to thrust into me.

“I want it,” I groaned. “I wanna be full.”

“You’ll look so sexy pregnant. Your breasts will be full of milk, and sensitive. I’m gonna suck on them all day,” he threatened. The erotic picture he painted made me even wetter.

“Timothée, oh fuck, breed me!

“Don’t you want it? Don’t you want to be so full that you’re always leaking? My, white, sticky, cum filling you to bursting.”

“Oh I want it!” I moaned, his hips still jackhammering in and out of me. His hands went to my breasts, massaging my nipples.

“Then you’ll never be able to leave me. You’ll be stuck in my apartment, taking me seed, and growing. I’ll keep you fucked up so well, you won’t have a chance to leave,” he told me. It was a toxic idea, one I should have hated, but it made me fall over the edge. My walls were spasming.

“Oh fuck, I’m going to cum,” Timothée moaned, and he was spilling into me. He was fucking his cum deeper inside me.

“You’re never leaving,” he growled, as he continued to thrust.

“Never,” I promised.

[tellodona]

i saw anon ask this in my inbox, but i accidentally deleted it 😭 i hope anon would see this !

the brothers seeing mc use sfx makeup

heads up: gn!mc, swearing in lucifer's

lucifer

he hasn't seen you all day, so he assumes you haven't left your room

hm. he has spare time. what's wrong with checking in on you?

he knocks on your door, and patiently waits for you to open it

when you do, what greets him is the sight of you with blood everywhere on your face

your makeup had your left eye blackened out (you just closed it) with fake blood dripping right out of it. and you even took the liberty of making yourself paler than usual

mc. what. the. fuck.

right of the bat, he could smell toxins on your face, and deduced it was makeup

but that still doesn't stop him from freezing over

"lucifer... are you okay?"

"*clears his throat* yes, i am, mc. are you perhaps trying... very detailed makeup?"

he has mixed feelings about it

one, wow, you're talented, good job, you almost scared him, mc

second, the blood reminded him too much of something and someone

"mc... please give me a heads up when you try this... sfx makeup, if you would"

that would depend

mammon

he had a big win in one of the casinos he frequents, so of course you had to know too!

he stomps towards your door and barges into your roon without much of a warning

you flinched and accidentally got lipstick on your teeth, so look turned and glared at him

he SCREAMS

"MC WHAT THE HELL??????????"

you had makeup to look like your face was burnt, and it looked too realistic for his liking. with your glare, it made you look more terrifying

he was shaking in his place because he got so scared-

ehem! the GREAT mammon doesn't get scared, okay?!

still though, you sigh and you should gently apologize to him

"mc, you scared the bejeebers outta me! i- i mean... i was surprised! just surprised! this're the things you gotta tell me, alright?!"

from then on he learnt how to knock. but it's more like slamming on your door impatiently

leviathan

because of the extent of his knowledge in cosplaying, you wanted his opinion on something about your makeup. like the color of your eye contacts maybe

you knock on his door, and when he doesn't answer, you hear faint sounds of a game going off inside, so you took the liberty of going inside

there he was, busy in front of his computer on a game that probably just came out an hour ago

you waited for him to finish, so when he did, you called out his name

he flinched, sighing, "mc, you have to stop scaring-"

he turns around and pales

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

he threw his controller at you, which hit you square in the face

we are NOT forgetting about the fact that he's a literal grand admiral

of course you're falling down on your bum

"m- m- m- mc, i'm so sorry!!!!!!"

literally on his knees begging for forgiveness

after a while, the both of you calm down

he finally takes into detail with your sfx makeup, which looks like you were drowned in the sea and you had tears coming out of your eyes

"maybe gray would look great... or blue?"

he'd help with whatever you need, just don't scare him like that again, normie!

satan

he'd recently borrow a book from the human world from you, finished it in one sitting, and wanted to return it to you

he knocks on your door, and when you told him to come in, he did

you were in front of your mirror, but he wasn't in the angle to see your reflection

"mc, i wanted to return your book- oh."

you returned around, looking at him curiously

your makeup made an illusion where your face seemingly split apart in the middle, one side was crying, and one side was angry

it hit home for him, despite the absolute gore of a thing you have on your face right now

he just wore a frown on his face, making you have a feeling of worry, "satan... are you okay?"

he gets out of his head and nods

"i just wanted to return your book. sorry if i'm intruding on something."

you assure him it's fine, and he debates whether to stay or not

he does, he sits on your bed behind you

"what's your inspiration for that, mc?"

asmodeus

you were asking for some makeup suggestions these past few days which was he excited to share with you

"are you going somewhere, mc? oh, oh! can i come? i can, right?!"

you laugh and tell him it depends

it's been two days since you last asked for makeup suggestions, so he assumed you already have them

he skips towards your room with a happy hum, knocking on your door, "mc~ i'm coming in!"

he walks in, smiling brightly

you were just finishing up, and you turned around

he almost hurls

"o- oh... that's what you've been up to, huh?"

you had some sort of crown on top of your head, but it was broken in half. your face had distorted make up on it, scratch marks all over, broken jewels decorated around your face, and some sort of gunshot wound on your forehead

he walks closer to you, his smile coming back, "can i make some suggestions?"

he immediately got hooked

be ready for an impromptu photoshoot

beelzebub

he'd recently receive a coupon for one of the restaurants he always go to that everything will be 25% if you bring someone with you

he immediately thought about you

he happily walks to your room, a smile on his face thinking about how much food he'll be eating and that you would be there with him

he knocks like once, before he just opens your door

"mc, i got a coupon after winning- what are you doing?"

he tilts his head when you look like you were poking at something on your face with a brush

you turn around to find him standing there with said coupon in hand, "what is it, beel?" you ask

but he just freezes

you had yourself look like you were crying, burn marks all over your face, and you wore an eye contact on your right eye to make it look like it went blind

"beel?" you try calling out again

he shakes his head when he stops thinking and the smell of the makeup's toxins flaring in his nose

"oh... uhm. you look great, mc. i didn't know you could do that."

you thank him, and he went on with the tangent about the coupon

he's desperate in subtly ignoring the makeup

belphegor

it's rare, but somehow he got a nightmare

he forgot about it as soon as he woke up, but he was still feeling a little restless

he walks out of his and beel's room and walked downstairs

he finds your light still open, so he immediately decided to make it your problem

he just opens your door without any prior warning and sees you standing by your bed

he raises an eyebrow and calls your name

you turn around and he was dumbfounded

you black and white feathers scattered around your hair, your eyes were depicted to be swollen from crying, your nose is bleeding, a slice on your cheek, and half of your face was burnt

and it felt like his nightmare all over again

"mc...?"

he was frozen over and you had to frantically assure him it was makeup

it took him a while to respond to you, and just nodded

he slept in your bed with you that night

i had some inspirations from the internet, but most of them are little close to home heh

see what i did there?

[snowb3rryy]

Leviathan x F!MC

The Diary

Well, I name it F!MC because this one is dedicated to my best friend, but I don't think I mention gender anywhere, so yeah.

Summary:

You decide to start keeping a diary, yet it falls on the wrong hands.

Warnings: Mentions of: Suicide, Depression, Anxiety.

This is also my first kinda angst story here and not NSFW, how about that😂😃

"Dear diary,

It's as normal as a day in the devildom is, I needed to do something to get outside this boring routine. It was eating me apart, I felt myself getting eaten by depression again. I didn't want to let it happen.

I didn't want a shopping spree with Asmo, I didn't want to team up with Belphie and Satan to prank Lucifer...

I didn't even want to stay with Levi in his room and rot all day in a chair playing games and watching shows. I'm sick of it. I used to have so much fun that way since they are my hobbies to, yet I feel a bit burned out. Maybe I should take a trip back to the human world.

No, that would be catastrophic. I don't want to return to the hell I was born in. Devildom is much better than back home. It's almost equal to commiting suicide.

What should I do? I feel helpless. I want to do so many things yet I feel like doing nothing. Wait, since there are things I want to achieve, why am I not actually trying to cross things off my list? Oh right, I don't have money, and I also really don't have the energy right now.

All I want to do is lay all day... It's nice and warm in my bed. I can listen to songs... I can daydream, I can cry... I wish I could share my comfort with someone... A spesific "someone".

Levi. Yes, Levi. The moment I first arrived here I didn't really think much of him yet, suddenly that change. Almost overnight. I want to spend time with him, I want to hug him and kiss him, I want to make love to him yet... Yet his shyness is always an obstacle I can't beat. Maybe because we both share it, maybe I'm more scared than him. Scared to hurt myself in the process, scared to trust someone, anyone. Scared to hurt him, scared of the world, scared of my feelings.

My dear diary, I write to you so long and yet I came to no conclusion once again. I still don't know what to do, when to do it... Maybe I will do it... Maybe I'm too scared for that too."

A person holding the diary no they're knees, sitting down on the floor. A million thoughts in their mind, one reaction. Tears. Tears is all they could produce, not a word not an action, just tears.

That person is Levi, he's sitting in my room, reading the last page of my diary I left open in my bed. I don't know it yet since I'm in the kitchen making sweets with Luke and Simeon.

Time passes, night is here and the dinner is served. Levi is nowhere to be seen. Lucifer asks me to get him. I roll my eyes at him, like I couldn't think of it myself?? "I'm sick of you and your arrognace Lucifer!" I want to say yet I swallow my words and go to Levi's room.

I knock once.

I knock twice.

- Levi, Come down for dinner

My voice soft, yet maybe it shouldn't since his probably playing and he has his headset on.

- Levi!

I say indeed louder this time. No response. I get worried so I open the door. No one is inside.

I am puzzled yet the worry inside me rises. I take a deep breath and try to think realistically, I try not to let worry and anxiety get the better of me. Yet I lose this battle once again.

I go to the dinning room and inform everyone. They don't seem to care. They all name a different reason. Only Beel said something actually useful. "He may be in your room" he said.

I immediately nod positively and walk to my room. There he is, sleeping on the floor with swollen eyes and a notebook in his arms. No, not a notebook. My diary.

Why did I need a diary? What for? Did he read everything? Am I exposed? I don't like it when others know things about me that I haven't allowed them to!

Panic and my ego disappear when I see his eyes once again. Was he crying? Did I read something bad that I forgot about? Or... is he feeling bad for me? No way, that's not it. He could never. Not because he's unable, no. Because I'm not worthy of it.

I sit by him after I cover him with a blanket. I smile and move his hair out of his face. His so cute, so adorable. I want him, I'm in love with him. Why did he have to read my diary?

A few hours pass but I haven't manage to sleep, and I slowly see him wake up. His eyes slowly open and his face turns red when he notices me. Typical.

He tries to speak yet none of it makes sense for the first seconds. I let him taje his time. He takes a few breaths while looking away from me and he turns at me when his ready. Face red, covering his mouth as he speaks.

Levi: MC... I, I'm sorry I never meant to read your personal things! Never! Please don't hate me for it. I know it's bad I know I messed up I know you're mad but I didn't meant to hurt you.

Then it hit me. He's in the same boat as me. Scared, shaking, I see myself in him yet in the same time I see a whole different person. I smile as I realise what I have to do, how to get out of my routine.

- It's okay. I shouldn't have let it open, don't feel bad alright? No need for that. Just.. well pretend you never have read it alright?

Levi: I want to but... I-i'ts hard. All these things you wrote... all these things you feel... Why did you never speak to me?.. To, to anyone I mean! Not me specifically, like anyone you know?

He hides away again and I smile, he always has that effect, that innocence that won over me.

- My thoughts are mine, and I don't won't to share them. But since you did read them, just know that... Everything will be fine... I think, or at least I'll try. Levi, I can't lie and I don't want to. I've been in a dark place and I don't think I'll escape it soon but, you can heal me or help me but you can make the process hurt less. And i want to do the same for you, to help you beat your problems away.

Levi: H-how?

- I wanted to do this for so long.

I hold his face and I close my eyes as i lean closer to him, touching my lips on his. Softly, with care and a bit of love that's missing from the both of us.

Levi's eyes get wide open and i feel his body tremble. He really didn't expect it.

- Too much? Maybe I should have hugged you first and then.. do this

Levi: No no, it's... it's fine really. Does this mean that... you too... see me as more than a friend?

I simply nod, not wanting to appear more embarrassed or anxious than I already am.

- I want us to do this, to try beating our dark side together, hm? What do you say?

Levi tries to find his words but when he fails, he shakes his head and kisses me. Now that was unexpected.

Levi: This is the energy I had for a week, be greatful.

We both laugh, and i get him in my arms. This day ended better than I though.

Take a look at this story on my Ao3 too<3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52806115

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Mallory remembered how terrifying his first panic attack had been, back when he didn't know much about them, and wondered if going feral felt similar.

I CAN ANSWER THIS ONE ACTUALLY. as a vampire who both has anxiety and has gone feral several times (in my defense my dumb ass didn't have an anisa to teach me shit)

short answer is: yes and no. it starts off feeling like a panic attack (adrenaline, racing heartbeat, hard to breath, mind cloudy) then it starts to HURT. because your heart is trying to pump blood that Isn't There and you can FEEL how empty your veins are. and that's the point where your brain goes okay we're turning everything off except for Find Some Fucking Blood Now. at this point it also stops feeling quite like a panic attack and more like a Beast is tearing you apart from the inside.

all you can hear is heartbeats all you can smell is blood you are in pain you are desperate like you've never felt before. if you're lucky you can still form coherent thoughts but good luck making your body listen to them, right now every vampiric instinct is screaming at you to feed, stop the pain, who cares what unfortunate living thing steps in your path.

then when you finally DO feed it burns. your body is so cold from starvation that the blood is hot but it feels good and ah shit i killed them. cue normal panic attack.

yeah would Not recommend, do not attempt diets as a vampire it will not go well 👍

-🌹

This is SUCH a detailed description!! And I LOVE it! Totally not taking notes to add to future vampire stories I plan to write to make them more realistic and detailed! (<-liar, I am definitely taking notes)

This is actually pretty helpful, to be honest. I never thought of it like this before, but it makes sense. I really like how in-depth you described the sensation of going feral -- it really helps be visualize it. Still, I'm sorry you have to live through that! (I'm not a vampire, but I have anxiety too and get panic attacks which are no fun, so I can still relate to what you're feeling to a degree?)

[enhais]

hiya could i request yandere enhypen how they would punish their s/o? tysm!

how yandere!enhypen would punish their s/o

┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄

pairing: yandere!enhypen x gn!reader

genre: yandere

a/n: again, this is just fiction - the boys would never do this irl :)

┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄ ┄

jungwon

jungwon would punish his s/o according to the rule they broke. for example, if you broke a small rule like not kissing him goodbye, you’d get a few spanks, but if you tried to escape, he’d make you go without food for a couple of days. he needed you to learn.

“baby, kiss me.” his darkened voice demanded. you were tired from yesterday, still lying in bed with no strength to get up. he pulled you up over his lap and spanked you, “you’ll always give me a goodbye kiss.” his hand coming down harder with each word, “understood?” on the verge of tears, you nodded as he pulled you up to face him. he stroked away a piece of hair from your face and cupped your cheek, “i love you.”

heeseung

as you were spoiled with attention from heeseung, his choice of punishment was to treat you like you didn’t exist. he knew you couldn’t live without him, but you’d broken the rules, so he had to make you understand the consequences.

“heeseung?” your voice croaked out, broken from all the crying, “please? im sorry…” nothing helped. he was walking around the apartment, continuing with the chores, as you sat on the couch completely destroyed. “i want you.” you whispered and rested your forehead on your knees, receiving a look from heeseung. his heart was breaking, but he had to go through with it.

jay

freedom was not in the picture for you. not anymore, at least. you didn’t usually break rules, but when you did, he’d tie you up and leave you.

his usually soft hands were now rough as he tied the rope on your wrists. “you knew what would happen, yet you did it anyway, hm?” he made momentarily eye contact with you before continuing to your ankles. “maybe i should carve my name into your skin. make you know who you belong to?” you were scared to say the least. how could you be so stupid? “you’ll learn your lesson, won’t you?” he asked rhetorically before patting you on the head, “i’ll be back later, baby.” leaving you alone with your thoughts.

jake

jake is a bit more difficult i’d say. i think he’d prefer to get inside your mind, making you think everyone were against you and that you only had him. if you tried to escape, he’d get you back and guilt trip you, making you feel worse than ever. if you sent your friends a message without telling him first, he’d make it seem like they didn’t like you.

“you see? they aren’t your friends?” he showed a screenshot of a conversation between him and a couple of your supposed friends. what you didn’t know, however, was that they were fake. he’d made them in a program, making them as realistic as possible. tears formed in your eyes and your lips started to wobble. “you only have me… let’s treat me nicely, yes?” you agreed, not wanting to see your “friends” ever again.

sunghoon

he has a list full of punishments and he’s happy every time he gets to pick one. sunghoon usually goes for mind games and physical pain. blood and bruises aren’t uncommon, but it’s only for you to learn to never disappoint him.

“baby, baby…” he sighed. he’d seen you on the security cameras trying to find the key to the door. you were unsuccessful, of course, but you still thought it would be a good idea. you were wrong. “what should we do today? knives?” there was nothing that could take you out of this situation. “yeah, let’s do that. go upstairs for me, will you?” you nodded unwillingly and went to your room, hoping it wouldn’t be too bad.

sunoo

sunoo doesn’t like hurting you. not at all. he’d go with something easy, something that he could control the pain of. like spankings.

he was ready to sob at the moment you began crying. you were begging for forgiveness for accidentally breaking one of his favourite vases. “it’s alright, sweetie… come here.” he bit his lip to focus and motioned you to sit on his lap. “five will do, right? i won’t hit you hard.” he promised. you nodded against his shoulder before he bent you over. you appreciated him for not being hard on you.

niki

he won’t be as harsh as sunghoon, but he’s definitely in the top three. he would lock you up in the basement and leave you with no human contact nor food for a day or two. you had water and a bed, that would suffice, he thought.

“you were very bad, y/n… im disappointed.” he shook his head and tutted at your curled up form. you were sitting against the basement wall, curled up with your blanket and crying. “i want what’s best for you, i hope you know that, baby.” he caressed your cheek before slapping it. “i’ll see you in a bit.”

[lesbobiwan]

Brat (Wolffe x f! reader)

Explicit — minors DNI

Wolffe x f!reader

warnings: cockwarming, dirty talk KING wolffe, brat tamer!wolffe, spanking

You did this to yourself. You know that, realistically.

Since you woke up this morning, there was a bone-deep feeling inside you that just begged for trouble and, well, you seem to have found it.

Wolffe's jaw clenches, and his shoulders roll back, giving his already broad body an even broader appearance.

Oh yeah, you found trouble alright.

Still, despite the commander burning holes into the back of your head, you turn to your newfound dance partner.

He's sweet enough — a shiny from the 212th if the brand new yellow paint is any hint. He had approached you with a shy smile and an outstretched hand and had raised his voice to be heard over the blasting music of 79s. "D'you wanna dance?"

Like you said: sweet.

But, you're not looking for sweet. you're looking for something rough and dirty. Something you'll undoubtedly feel tomorrow morning.

You think you'll get what you're looking for tonight. Not from this shiny, but you'll get it nonetheless.

If your dance partner notices how you're putting on a show for someone else, he doesn't say anything. His hands twitch like he wants to reach out to touch, but he pulls back before he gets too close.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. In any other situation — if this shiny had been someone else — you would have found his consideration for your personal space sweet.

But once again, you aren't looking for sweet.

You turn your back to the shiny, face to face again with Wolffe, whose grip on his glass has gotten tighter and tighter, and press your ass against his groin.

The shiny gasps and his hips jerk against you. Finally, his hands close around your hips.

Wolffe raises his chin and arches a single eyebrow. Are you sure this is the game you want to play? his expression seems to ask you.

You hold eye contact as you roll your hips against the trooper behind you.

His breathy moan echos through your ear, not at all like the hearty groans that Wolffe would let out.

This trooper is all wrong — too sweet, too tentative, too quiet, too nice — but you know you won't have to put up with him much longer.

Not much longer at all.

Wolffe sets his drink down, still half empty.

A bolt of anticipation shoots through your gut.

Fuck, you can feel how soaked your panties are.

"Let's go," Wolffe's hand, strong and confident, closes around your bicep as soon as he gets within arm's reach.

You plant your feet as best you can, doing your best to keep your ass pressed flush to the trooper's slowly hardening dick. "I'm having a good time, Commander," you look up at him through your eyelashes, poking your tongue out to wet your lips. "But thanks anyways."

Oh, you're really playing with fire now.

The trooper's hands have left your body like he's been burned. "C-Commander," he stutters, stuck between standing at attention and hunching to hide his erection. "I didn't know she was w-with you, I'm sorry, Sir."

Wolffe sucks on his teeth before he jerks his head to the side, "Get the fuck out of here, trooper."

The man leaves, but you don't feel too bad about it.

You pull your arm from Wolffe's grip, but you have a feeling he lets you do it.

It's a trap, you know. Wolffe is baiting you into digging yourself a deeper hole but you can't help it.

Now that he's giving you attention, you're sucking it all in and demanding more, even if it's negative attention.

"What the fuck, Wolffe?" you demand, crossing your arms under your breasts to push them out more.

His gaze trails down, so obviously staring at your breasts that it makes your thighs clench in excitement. He drags his eyes back up to your face.

"You don't talk to me like that, girl," he says lowly, and it would almost be too quiet to be heard over the music had it been anyone else that said them.

But it's Wolffe, and you think you would be able to hear anything Wolffe said to you, especially when he said it like that.

Your clit throbs beneath your panties. You wonder if he'll like the nice gray set you picked out just for him.

"Don't talk to you like what, Commander," you spit out, digging your grave even deeper than before. It'll take forever to climb out of it, but you know it will be so worth it.

Wolffe leans in close, placing his hand to the small of your back and pressing you flush against his chest, "Like a brat."

He lets the words hang in the air between you.

Your breath catches in your throat, and all the previous bravado you had vanishes without a trace.

A brat. The label makes your mouth go dry and your cunt get wet with want.

"What are you gonna do about it?" you manage to say.

Wolffe smirks, digging his fingers in harder against your skin, "You'll find out," he replies, voice dark with intent.

And, maker help you, you can't wait to find out.

~

"Please! Please, Commander," you beg, your hips trying their best to jerk against his grip, "Please, let me come!"

You think you've been here, anchored on his cock by the strong hands that hold your hips still, for hours now. In that time, you've fallen apart at a rapid pace.

You know that your makeup, once applied to your face with care and a delicacy usually reserved for breakable objects, has smeared across your face from your tears. Your very soul feels like it's been exposed to a live-wire, and with every roll of Wolffe's hips you get closer and closer to burning alive.

You'd welcome the flame happily.

Wolffe grunts against your neck, not stopping the barely-there thrusts of his hips, "What did I tell you, girl?"

Smack.

Your shriek and buck against his grip. Your clit stings in pleasure, and when you look down, Wolffe's hand is hovering just over your swollen cunt.

Did he just —

Smack!

This time you get to watch as the flat of his palm smacks against your clit.

Pleasurepain shoots through your core. You cunt clenches around his cock.

"Fuck!" you sob, dropping your head back onto his shoulder as you writhe in his grip. "Please, Commander! I wanna come, please let me come!"

Wolffe hums uninterestedly. He seems so cool, so unaffected by your begging and by the way your cunt tries to squeeze the life out of his cock. "Answer me," he demands, placing his hand — wet now with your slick — back on your hip. "What did I tell you?" He rolls his hips beneath you, pressing against that spot inside you that no one before him has ever hit with deadly accuracy.

Pleasure shoots through your gut. "Please!" you sob, thighs trembling atop him.

Oh, fuck, you think you're gonna come. You can feel it building, can feel your core tightening like a rubber band about to snap.

Unintelligible words fall from your lips — a never ending babble — as your release builds. You try to rock your hips, looking for more pressure against the spot that only Wolffe's cock can hit.

He's ruined you, you think. Ruined you for any other man. How could you possibly try to fuck anyone else knowing that no one could compare to him?

You're so close to coming, you can feel it and you know it'll be devastating. One that will rob you of your senses and leave you a blubbering mess until you recover. Fuck, you want it so bad and —

Wolffe rips you off of his cock.

"No!" you cry out, thrashing in his grip as he manhandles you so that your face and chest are pressed into the bed.

Your pussy clenches around nothing, and you can feel the slick that drips from you. The way he tossed you around only makes you wetter.

"You bastard!" you curse, turning your head to bury your face into the covers, "Please, just let me come!"

Your body twitches with your ruined orgasm. Fuck, you just want him to touch you. One touch and you think you could come.

Wolffe laughs, that son of a bitch, behind you, one hand pressed between your shoulder blades to force you down into the sheets. "Now, that's not very nice, baby," he scolds. His other hand trails up the back of your thigh with a featherlight touch.

You try to push back into his hand that traces up the curve of your ass and yelp at the ensuing spank.

"Now, I'll try to be nice, because I know you've gone cockdumb," Wolffe finally presses his cock back against your pussy, sliding his length through your folds. The head of his cock bumps your clit with every slow thrust of his. "But, I need you to start behaving, smart girl. You've started acting like a brat," he emphasizes his words with sharp spanks, alternating cheeks each time.

The moan that is ripped out of you gets muffled by the pillow. "I'll be good!" You assure, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder, "I'll be good, I promise, Commander!"

Fuck, Wolffe looks so good behind you. His normally well-kept hair is slightly askew, a few strands falling in front of his face, and his mouth is twisted into a feral grin that makes your cunt gush on his cock.

"Yeah? You'll be good?" Wolffe slides his cock back, lining the head up with your weeping entrance, "You'll be my good girl?"

"Yes!" You sob, hands grasping at air as your try to grab at him. "Yes, I'll be your good girl. Only yours! Yours, yours —"

Wolffe sinks inside you with one hard thrust. "No," he groans, "No, I don't think you're my good girl. Not yet." He pulls out all the way, but you don't have to wait long before he slams back inside you and starts a devastating pace.

You wail into the pillow, caught between trying to get away from the brutal fucking and trying to push back into it. He's ruining you, you think again, You'll never be the same again.

"Don't worry, baby," Wolffe spanks your ass hard enough to make you yelp, "I'll fuck the brat out of you."

Unfortunately for you, you have a lot of brat to get rid of, and Wolffe is only getting started.

[tomhiddlestonfanfic]

Just Be Yourself

TITLE: Just Be Yourself

SEQUEL TO: If I Made You Like Me

CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: One shot

WHICH TOM CHARACTER: Actor Tom

GENRE: Drama

TAGLIST: @waddlenut​ @sleutherclaw​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​

Just Be Yourself

The day after your evening out with your friends, you got a text from Tom.

‘I’m not sure what happened last night, but I want to apologise if I did something wrong. How are you doing? Take care. Love, Tom.’

You smiled as you read his message and thought it was sweet of him to check in on you like that. But you tried not to get your hopes up, after all, Tom was a very nice person to everyone. The message didn’t mean that you were somehow special to him. But it did mean that he cared about you enough to check in with you. You could live with that. If he wasn’t interested in being in a love relationship with you, at least you could be his friend.

‘You didn’t do anything wrong. I was just being melodramatic. I’m good. How are you?’

You sent your reply and put your phone down on the bed before turning around to go back to sleep, even though the time was nearly eleven. Your phone buzzed and you picked it up again, reading another message from Tom.

‘Okay, I’m glad to hear that. I’ve been thinking about what you said, and I want you to know that I want you to just be yourself around me. You don’t have to become someone you’re not for me to like you. I want to know the real you.’

You smiled at Tom’s words and tears filled your eyes. It was really nice of him to encourage you to be yourself around him. Perhaps it wouldn’t be that bad to just be friends with him. After all, he was very caring towards his friends.

‘Thank you Tom. I’m glad to hear that. Sorry if I ruined your night.’

‘You didn’t ruin anything. So don’t worry about it. I’m glad we talked last night.’ Tom replied and you felt relieved. ‘Would you like to come over for lunch?’ he then asked and your eyes widened with surprise as you stared at the words. Lunch? What exactly did that mean? Was he inviting you as a friend? Or was it intended as a date? Friends had lunch together all the time, you thought, trying to think realistically about it.

‘Okay’ you texted back and got out of bed to take a shower.

‘Could you be here by 13.00?’ he wondered and you replied yes. You smiled at his following message with his address and the door code for his apartment building.

You felt nervous as you stood outside Tom’s apartment door, ringing the doorbell. You smiled at the sound of a dog barking behind the door and remembered that Tom had a dog named Bobby. You had never met him before and you had a soft spot for animals, so you felt genuinely excited to finally meet him.

The door opened and you instantly bent down to pet the dog who was excitedly wagging his tail and began licking your hands to greet you.

“Hi Bobby,” you said in a soft voice. “It’s so good to finally meet you. I forgot to bring you something, but next I see you, I’ll make sure not to forget,” you told the beautiful dog.

“Oh, there’s no need to bring him anything,” Tom assured you and you smiled up at him as you continued to pet his dog. “All the attention he’s getting from you is the best gift you can give him.”

“Awwh, that’s so sweet,” you replied and kissed Bobby on the head. “He’s a really lovely dog. You must be proud of him.”

“I am,” Tom agreed with a big smile. “Please, come inside.”

You stood back up and went inside of the apartment, closing the door behind you. After taking your jacket and shoe off, you went into the kitchen where Tom and Bobby were waiting for you.

“You have a really nice apartment,” you told Tom.

“Thank you,” he replied with a smile. “Lunch is served,” he added and motioned to the kitchen table.

“Wow, it looks really good,” you said and sat down in one of the chairs. “Did you make this yourself?” you asked and took a spoonful of broccoli soup in your mouth. You loved soups, because it reminded you of your grandmother. Had you told Tom about it, or was it just a lucky coincidence?

“I made the soup myself, but I cheated and bought the bread,” Tom replied.

“I really like soup,” you said and he smiled knowingly at you.

“I know. Your grandmother used to make you soup when you were a child,” Tom said and looked at him in wonder.

“You remembered that? I can’t even remember telling you about it,” you told him.

“I remember,” Tom confirmed and smiled at you. “You were pretty drunk that time, so I’m not surprised if you don’t remember it. We were on our ways home from the bar, and we walked past a soup kitchen. You got emotional because you thought about how important it was that those kinds of places existed and then you told me that they should have your grandmother’s soup, because it always made you happy as a child. Maybe it would make the people going there happy too.”

“Oh, God. How embarrassing,” you said and Tom smiled at you.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I thought it was really sweet,” he assured you.

“That’s really nice of you,” you smiled. “I’m sorry about last night, by the way. I tend to get emotional when I drink.”

“That’s nothing to apologise about,” Tom assured you. “I’m glad you told me about how you thought you couldn’t be yourself around me, because it got me thinking. That’s not how I want you to feel when you’re with me. I just want you to be yourself.”

“Are you sure about that?” you questioned with a mischievous grin.

“I sense trouble,” Tom replied.

“Can’t we sit on the floor and eat?” you suggested and smiled at the chocolate brown dog. “Bobby looks so lonely down there.”

“Alright then, but no food fights or feeding him bread,” Tom warned. “It can upset his stomach.”

“Awwh, poor thing,” you said and petted Bobby after placing your bowl of soup on the floor and sat down next to him. He placed his head in your lap and you smiled. “Bobby’s adorable. If you ever need any help with him at all, I’ll be more than happy to spend some time with him.”

“Thank you,” Tom said appreciatively and sat down on the floor too. “I really appreciate that. It’s obvious that Bobby feels comfortable around you. It makes me really happy.”

“Me too,” you replied and continued to pet the dog.

You had a great time with Tom and Bobby, and they were sweet enough to walk you home to your place. You never started dating each other, but that didn’t really bother you anymore as you got to know Tom better. Sure, you still had a crush on him, but you didn’t let that get in the way of developing a close friendship with him.

One day, when Tom had asked you to dog sit Bobby for the night, he looked nervous as he left Bobby at your place.

“Tom, are you okay?” you asked him concernedly.

“Actually, I’m a bit nervous. I have a date tonight,” he explained. You smiled warmly at him, placed your hands on his shoulders and asked him to relax. You could feel him relax a little underneath your touch and you moved your hands.

“Would you like some advice?” you asked him.

“Yes, please,” Tom said.

“Just be yourself,” you told him encouragingly and he smiled back at you. “You’re great the way you are and the whole purpose of a date is to get to know each other better. Isn’t it?”

“You’re right,” Tom agreed and began to look emotional as he looked at you. “Thank you, [your name]. I really mean it. You’re a great friend and you’re always there for me.”

“Thank you, Tom,” you told him sincerely and spontaneously put a hand on your chest to express how moved you were by his words. “You’re a great friend too. Make sure to enjoy yourself on your date now, and don’t worry about hurrying back to fetch Bobby. I have prepared so he can spend the night,” you assured Tom.

“Thank you so much,” Tom told you as he gave you a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Have fun,” you told him and felt genuinely happy to have him in your life. After he left, you turned to Bobby with a smile. “Who wants a treat?” you asked excitedly and ran towards your kitchen with Bobby in tow.

[diavolosthots]

A lot of hcs have the brothers reacting with violence against any demon that hurts mc- how do you think they’d respond if mc was like.. REALLY uncomfortable with that? Either bc mc thinks that the demon should have a chance to learn from their mistake, or bc they’re scared when the bros lash out like that, or whatever reason.

God i love the violent protective headcanons so much because it truly captures their demonic natures and, in my opinion, how demons are with their chosen mates buuuttttttttt..... Yeah i can see how some people are uncomfortable with that

Warning: mentions of violent thoughts/some like... Tight gripping, but no actual, full on violence

THE BROTHERS reacting to MC being hurt by a demon and wanting them to have a second chance/being scared (??? Idk that’s the title I came up with, fight me later if it doesn’t make sense now.)

Lucifer:

His first instinct is always, and will always be, to protect you. In his eyes, you’re still this small, fragile, innocent human being, even if you’re not. Even if you’re his height and bench as much as Beelzebub physically, you’re still not a match for a demon and he hates to think that one could get too close, and then it happens. Obviously, he’s full on demon form and ready to teach someone a lesson, but then you stop him, and he’s confused. “Don’t worry Darling, I will handle them.” What’s that? You don’t want him to handle them? Are you out of your mind? “MC they hurt you and they shall pay the price.” A second chance? Do you know what demons are? Look, now the demon is laughing! But… for your sake, Lucifer is backing down. For now. 

“If they do it again, I won’t hesitate MC; this is for your safety. Demons don’t usually change for the better. No, you can not use me as an example.” 

Mammon:

Here’s the thing: chances are, Mammon would talk way more than he would actually fight, anyway. He’d go on a whole speech about how you’re his and he’s there to protect you and how you will never have to worry about anything with him around. Then that demon would get the same lecture and honestly, he’s probably going to bore the demon to death more than anything so you, realistically, don’t have to worry about him being violent, anyway, UNLESS the demon swings at him first because then it’s okay and sorry MC, but this got a little too personal. Just one punch, okay? And then he’ll literally grab you and run for it because even Mammon knows he won’t last long. 

“Listen this ain’t cuz yer scared or I’m scared. This is cuz I can’t let ya get hurt!.... Again!” (Spoiler: it’s because he won’t last long due to his constant worry about you)

Leviathan:

Hold up. Wait a minute. You’re telling him that, after everything he’s been through, everything he’s done, every rough path he had to take to get you, you’re telling him now that he can’t protect you because this lowlife scum deserves a SECOND CHANCE?! Give him a moment, he needs to calm down. Not only is he jealous because someone else managed to get their hands on you but also, “MC are you stupid?! They hurt you!” Like, he genuinely thinks you’re insane. But then he also immediately feels bad for calling you stupid and he’s having a mental debate on what’s more important: avenging you and being a lowkey hero, or giving into your wish and making you happy…. “Ugh….Fine! Fine… but you’re not going anywhere alone ever again!” And also…. He might’ve, totally, tripped that demon with his tail as he takes you back home. Just enough for them to faceplant. No actual violence. 

“They deserved that much…. What? I didn’t do it…..!” Yes he did.

Satan:

Oof. Anger. Rage. Wrath. Fire. It’s all inside of him and he is, quite literally, fuming. His demon form suddenly feels too tight and he wishes he could emerge into his full form without actually causing you to have a heart attack. You’re practically begging him to calm down, “calm down?!” And he’s having none of it. Someone touched what was his and they hurt you doing that, “S-Satan…” but your voice is scared and laced with fear and although he thinks it’s because of the demon at first, “Don’t worry, this worthless excuse of a life won’t be here much longer,” he soon realizes it’s actually he that is scaring you and it catches him off guard. Why are you scared? He’s protecting you! It hurts his heart, though, to see you be so afraid of them and he’s mentally battling himself. He can’t let them get away with this; it would go against his own personal morals and beliefs, but also…

“Let’s… let’s go home… I’ll make some hot chocolate for you and we can… calm down.” 

Asmodeus:

He tries to avoid conflict as much as possible, half because he doesn’t want to get his hands dirty, and half because he doesn’t like it. If anyone deserves to be a drama queen, it’s him, not anyone else. So you telling him, as he’s about to fight for the first time in a couple millennia, to please not… kind of sets him at ease. “Are you sure?” but he also needs to make sure that this is exactly what you want. He doesn’t like it, of course, because he does firmly believe people deserve to be held accountable for their actions, but he would hate to see you upset with him when he could just… 

“don’t forget to put facial cleanser on tonight and drink water. Your ugliness needs to be washed off and your soul could use some hydration. Hatred out, flowers in!”

Beelzebub:

Oh he’s ready to not only throw hands, he’s ready to tear someone apart. Angry Beel is a scary Beel and he takes a sense of… pride when people fear him, but only if they SHOULD fear him, you know? Laying hands on you is a BIG no no and he won’t treat it lightly. Whatever your relationship with him may be, he protects the people he cares about and his fist is pulling back way too quickly for you to say stop “Beel!” but you’re scared and he halts because he can hear it in your voice and immediately pauses, turning to look at you. He still has a tight grip on them and he’s still ready to tear them to pieces, but you’re also trembling now and his wings slowly lower, thinking he had done something wrong. “I’m… sorry….” stop? You want him to stop? He doesn’t like that… “What if they hurt you again? I can’t let that happen….” he can’t, in good conscience he can’t….. 

“You’re off the hook for now, but let me catch you near MC again and there’s nothing you will be able to do but tell your little life goodbye.”

Belphegor:

Look, MAYBE he’s being a little hypocritical right now, okay? Yeah he totally kind of did the same thing to you but that’s exactly why he’s doing better now! He realizes how wrong he was and how he should’ve never done that, you know, all that good 180 degree turn around stuff, but also??? How dare someone else do that??? “I’m not letting them go MC. Not until they have paid. And you just have to stand there and watch as Belphegor jokes them with his tail and for a while that may work BUT…. he hates the look you gave him when he turns back toward you. It breaks his heart, although he would only reluctantly admit that, so he drops them to the ground and looks at you a bit ashamed. “Fine… I won’t… not today…” and you’re lucky he’s lazy and that tail-lift already took a lot out of him. “But it can’t happen again. I won’t be this nice next time MC.” ain’t no one allowed to mess with you! 

“Just because I made a mistake doesn’t mean you can. Run before I decide to squash you anyway.” 

[leiakenobi]

Title: Tear You Apart Fandom: Bloodsucking Bastards (2015) Pairing: Max Phillips/F!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1.6k Summary: An argument with Max about chores leads to something that – realistically – you should’ve seen coming. (Roommates AU) Warnings: SMUT (18+), oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie A/N: I’m not going to tag them because I really don’t know if Max would be at all their cup of tea, but shout-out to Tegan for asking which characters I’d consider writing roommate AUs for, which gave me the idea for this fic out of nowhere.

——

You were arguing about… the dishes this time. Yes, you’re almost certain that it was the dishes. That would explain why you’re in the kitchen.

What it does not explain is why Max has you spread out across the table, your shirt discarded somewhere across the room and your pants and underwear pooled on the floor beneath your feet.

Everything building up to it hangs over you in a blur of yelling, of Max just a little too close and a low growl of so sexy when you get like this. A blur of his tongue tasting you all over—your mouth, neck, breasts, stomach, all on his way to--

“Fuck,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut while you grind against his mouth. That perfect fucking mouth, sucking and licking over your folds and your clit, as though this right here is the only thing he’s ever wanted from you. (And hell, maybe it is.) He thrusts his tongue inside of you, making your back arch off the table, and his own pleased groan says he likes it, too. Likes tasting you and likes the way he’s making you writhe.

Max groans once again when he presses his fingers into your heat. Maybe it’s over the feeling of you – because you have no fucking doubt that you’re dripping for him, with the way the digits slide in so easy – or maybe it’s because his touch makes you dig your heels into his back hard while you moan.

But whatever the reason, he groans, and it sends its own sort of shockwaves through you. Shockwaves burdened with a million small fights with your god damn asshole of a roommate and who gave him permission to eat you out this well.

You fuck yourself on his fingers as much as he fucks them into you, and distantly, you’re aware of yourself moaning and whimpering and even babbling, a little bit—

“So good, Max.”

“Just like that.”

“Faster, please.”

Faster, please. Max obliges and laughs against your folds this time. You don’t even have the dignity to feel embarrassed over how you’re begging, not when the vibrations of his chuckle feel just right and send another wave of pleasure through you.

You’ve got the fingers of one hand curled in his hair, probably tugging too hard as his fingers graze your walls just right but he deserves it, the jerk.

And you think maybe he likes it, too, which only makes you throb around him.

He pushes you tumbling over the edge of your climax before you quite realize what’s happening, the rush of it all wrenching a cry from deep in your throat that just makes Max finger you with greater abandon, licking up your juices as your walls pulse and ripple.

You’re still whimpering and gasping through some scattered aftershocks when you hear his belt buckle clattering and his eager, “Bet you’ve got more in you, don’t you baby?”

If you had any sense, you’d say no. Because already, this is absolutely a mistake, so the least you could do is save yourself from going any further.

But then you look down at his hand, at his length as he pulls his cock from his pants, and fuck. The sight of him makes you clench around nothing. “Mhm.”

“Can you say please?”

The fucking nerve of him, to think that he has the upper hand right now—when he’s literally just made you come, all while he’s standing over you with his cock throbbing in his hand.

(His beautiful cock, which would stretch and fill you so exquisitely that the thought of it makes you tremble.)

He should need you more than you need him.

But no. Even with anger still simmering in your gut – or maybe because there’s anger still simmering in your gut – Max fucking Phillips has you so needy for his cock that you breathe, “Please,” before you can stop yourself. And you can’t bring yourself to hate him for his filthy grin when he takes hold of your hips and thrusts into you in one firm, fluid motion, eliciting a moan from you both.

You wrap your legs around his waist at once, shifting your hips on the table to give him a better angle when he pulls back and thrusts in again.

So that you can take him fuller, deeper.

Max reacts at once, his nails digging into your flesh as he groans, “Fuck, darling, if I knew this would shut you up, we’d have done this months ago.”

Dick.

Your hand trails over his fingers as you move to massage your clit along with his strokes, and the feeling of your own arousal only intensifies your desire for him because shit, are you wet, the pads of your fingers grazing your already-sensitive clit easily. “I liked you more with your face between my legs.”

The end of your sentence is cut short when Max’s hips snap forward and he fills you hard and fast and hits your walls some type of way, making you whimper loudly. And his smile is fucking insufferable.

No, scratch that, his smile is insufferable when it widens, and he relinquishes his grip on your hip to take hold of your wrist instead so that he can reach your clit. “I liked you more when you were letting me do my fucking job, baby.”

He, too, can’t quite get the whole sentence out. This time because you clench around him tight, making his cock twitch inside of you. But Max makes little outward show of the fact that you’ve gotten to him for even an instant.

You can change that, you think. And keep him from opening his disgusting mouth at the same time.

You push yourself up into a sitting position with the heels of your hands, Max’s eyes shining and rendering you breathless an instant before you grab his neck and pull him into a hungry kiss. The two of you didn’t do much kissing before he started working his way down your body, so there’s something that feels particularly desperate about it—you, desperate to taste yourself on his lips, and Max desperate to be inside you any way and every way.

It does get to him. You, chasing the lingering hints of your arousal around his mouth, kissing him sloppily while you moan with each thrust—it gets to him.

He does let out a hint of a groan, but the thing that really fucking gets you is how he removes his hand from your clit so that he can grab your ass roughly with both hands and pull you closer to the edge of the table. You’re balanced there precariously, but you can’t even tell, not really. Not with your legs wrapped around him, and not with the way that Max can fuck you so deep while he supports your back with one hand and massages your clit with the other.

At some point he stops kissing you so that he can move his mouth to your neck, and it’s obscene, the breathless moan you let out into his ear at the first hint of his teeth and tongue on your skin. You tangle your fingers through his hair again, yanking so damn hard that it makes Max groan again.

You’re undoubtedly going to be smattered with bruises, from the way he’s been leaving hickeys all over you, and it’s that thought – while he sucks at a new spot where your neck meets your shoulder, fucking exquisite – that makes you confess, “Wanted this so bad.”

Not that you’d say it without the haze of his perfect mouth, and your walls clenching around his cock with each firm stroke, butyeah. Maybe you’ve wanted this.

You feel the way his lips shift against your skin—his pleased grin.

Perhaps it’s that grin, or perhaps it’s his teeth digging into your neck too hard. Perhaps it’s the way he thrusts into you and his cock twitches at almost the same instant that he massages your clit just right.

Whatever it is—you shatter again.

Max takes your moans, your walls clenching around him, as his cue, increasing his pace to chase his own release. His hand leaves your clit again so that he can grab you tight and give himself more leverage, and the burn of his nails just sends another rush through you.

The feeling of it when you’ve come once, when you’re already coming again, wrecks you. It’s too much and not enough as his cock fills you over and over, and you’re such a trembling mess in his arms that you don’t realize, for a beat, that his own climax has hit him with a ragged moan. He spills himself inside of you and clutches you so tight that you can’t move an inch and it is perfect.

You let out a whimper instinctively at the loss of him when he pulls out, your core still aching for more. Max chuckles in response, breathy across your skin while he shifts to kiss you again. Shifts his hands to balance you gently on the table once more.

(What a shock that he can do anything gently.)

Pressing his forehead against yours, he exhales—“I’ll move everything into the dishwasher in the morning.”

You’re on the verge of smiling against his mouth and saying okaywhen you abruptly remember how this all started: with you saying that you wanted to run the dishwasher tonight so that you could put everything away before bed.

“Like hell you will!” you exclaim.

In an instant, there’s a gleam in his eye again.

——

interested in my other fics or my taglist form? you can find them on my masterlist here

taglist: @aellynera @hyperfixatingmenever @jitterbugs927 @knivesareout @louderrthanthunderr @marvelousmermaid @patternedlantern @soyelfuegoquearde​

[aimless-imagines-for-fun]

Damian Wayne Dating HCs

Pairing :: older/adult!Damian Wayne x fem!Reader

Headcanon :: How Damian gets into and acts in a relationship

Word Count :: 1,676

Warnings :: N/A

A/N :: The image I’m using I created with Artbreeder. 

I didn’t call Damian “Robin” and referred to him as a vigilante because Dick stopped being Robin at 25, Jason 22, and Tim 18. The Damian I’m writing is 22. We don’t see much of Older!Damian, and when we do he’s either taken up the mantle of Batman or The Demon’s Head for The League Of Assassins

Getting into a relationship (all of this is in roughly a year) :

Neither you nor Damian know when you started dating, it just sort of happened

He met you at a bookstore you worked at, and you noticed he always came in buying older books about history, warfare, and strategies.

You found the warfare and strategies odd at first but chose not to question it

You asked him out first.

“Why do you always buy these books?” “I like history.” “Oh cool, I do too... Wanna hang out and talk about the First Battle of Tarain?”

You were joking, he said yes to get out of doing a thing with Tim

You each thought it was going to be a small amount of time spent together at some local cafe. You two ended up staying until closing talking about history.

This becomes a bi-weekly thing, you meet up at the cafe, talk until it closes, or go out and talk in a nearby park until sunset.

Damian’s family notices, but choose not to question what he’s doing because it’s seemingly making him less annoyed with people

Dick starts getting curious when he sees Damian smile just a tad bit looking at a text from you

You text him random facts all the time, but they’re weird. “Did you know squirrels are behind most power outages in the US?”

Eventually, you two stop talking about just history and start talking about other things that interest each of you and your personal lives. 

You open up more than Damian

Damian pays close attention when he notices you’re talking about something you’re genuinely passionate about He pays attention to detail in general.

For your birthday he got you a leather swiss army medic bag from WWII. You cried tears of joy and jumped onto him for a big long hug.

That was the first time Damian’s heart skipped a beat. After seeing you overjoyed, he realized he likes seeing you happy. It gave him a warm feeling, but he doesn’t know yet he has feelings for you.

Yours and Damian’s first “official date” was to a fancy Wayne Ent. event. This time Damian asked you. He’s super stiff.

“Would you like to accompany me to the upcoming-” “Are you asking me out on a date??” “No, I’m asking you to accompany me-” “I’ll go.”

No one in his family knows your coming, except for Alfred because he was asked to pick you up and bring you to the manor the day of. Alfred is confused the entire car ride because you act super chill

When you show up, the other boys surround you. Dick realizes who you are instantly, Jason thinks you’re not human, Tim is afraid you’re like Damian.

Bruce is silent, and a bit thankful his son found a normal human

Damian picked out your outfit: A fancy dark Sacramento green dress with black heels, a pearl necklace, and pearl bracelets to match.

You panicked when you saw the jewelry and Damian instantly goes into “comfort mode” to reassure you it’s fine. The family is shook.

At the actual event, you feel SUPER AWKWARD. Your family had enough to get by in life, so you feel very out of place around all the rich people

Damian can tell you’re uncomfortable and so he tries to hold onto you at all times to help you feel comfortable

Ex: He holds your hand, puts a hand on your shoulder, stands directly next to you so your arms are touching.

You eventually feel comfortable, but, you’re both bored there, so you suggest hiding in the outside garden

Finally alone, you two start talking about the other batboys

“Does Dick always try to show off odd party tricks?” “Only when he sees a pretty lady.”

“Why was Jason just standing in the corner looking at everyone?” “He doesn’t like dressing up.”

“Come on, there’s no way Tim’s actually happy here.” “Did you see him on the dance floor?” He has awesome dance moves, he’s just very energetic.

You eventually start talking about something else.

You can hear the music from inside, so you two start slow dancing together.

He’s holding one of your hands and has a hand placed on the small of your back. You rest your head on his shoulder and have your free hand flat on his chest.

It’s in this instant you each realize you have feelings for one another.

You two swayed around slowly until the song eventually ended.

When you two pull away, you stare into his green eyes briefly before you place a hand on his cheek and pull him down for a kiss.

Once In A Relationship :

You and Damian are a good pair because he’s serious and you’re go-with-the-flow. If he starts over-analyzing something, you start relaxing him. 

You two spend at least one day a week together, and you constantly text each other basic messages like “How was your day?”, “Are you okay?”, “Good morning/night”, “Have a nice day”

If you take over an hour to reply to Damian he gets anxious something bad happened to you.

He legitimately gets ready to start searching EVERY PART of Gotham until he gets a text “Sorry, I was taking a nap. Long day at work.”

When you two are together, you’re usually out or at your apartment. He only takes you to the manor if none of the other guys are there.

He took you once with everyone there. Never again.

Dick: “Oh my god! Look! He has a little girlfriend! How cute, Damian’s growing up.” “I’m 22.”

Tim: “You… You look so nice. Why? How is she so nice and you’re so… you.” “I’ll murder you and make it look like an accident.”

Jason: “How? Did you threaten her? Is he threatening you?” “Dames is super sweet.”

When you call Damian “Dames”, your nickname for him, they all lose their shit.

“DAMES?” “YOU HAVE A NICKNAME FOR HIM?” “DA-ME-SSS?” “DO YOU HAVE MORE?” “D-A-M-E-S?”

Your nicknames for Damian: Dame, Love, and Mr. Serious

Damian’s nicknames for you: Beloved, Love, and Sunflower

He briskly drags you away before you can say anything else, and you just go with it. 

“??I thought we were going to talk more to your brothers??” “They’re not my brothers.” “Okay. I appreciate you.” “.....I appreciate you too.”

You two don’t say “I love you” very often. Instead, you say “I appreciate you”. You do say “I love you” in private/intimate moments, but in public/at random you say “I appreciate you”

Damian isn’t possessive, just protective. There’s a difference. 

He’s never been in a serious relationship before and he’s never loved someone romantically like with you before, so he wants to make sure you’re safe and comfortable 24/7

The first time a random guy catcalled you while you were with Damian, he instantly defended your honor.

“What did you say?” He grabs the guy and easily raises him a foot off the ground. He forces the guy to apologize and lets him fall on the ground after.

Quickly, you reassured Damian he doesn’t need to go to such lengths to “defend your honor”. You tell him to ignore people like that guy because they’re nobodies.

After a few months, you start to pick up on the fact you two rarely spend time together after sunset.

You questioned him once about it and he quickly told you it’s because he helps his father with Wayne Ent. You never questioned him again.

You didn’t 100% believe his answer, but trust he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you

One time you called him crying at night. He was about to go on patrol, then dropped everything to go to your apartment and make sure you were okay.

Damian got a key to your apart about a year into the relationship.

There are times you go to sleep alone and wake up with him asleep, arms wrapped around you. He doesn’t do this often, only after a rough night on a patrol or a particularly dark mission.

Damian’s usually a realist, but when he sees you smile and laugh, he becomes an optimist for a split second

He isn’t big on PDA, so depending on his mood sometimes you hold hands when walking, other times you just lock your pinkies together.

When one of you notices the other is upset though, then you get touchy to calm the other down

Sometimes, when you two are alone at your apartment or the mansion, you don’t speak. You just rest and enjoy the silence while laying on top of one another.

If you lay on Damian, you’re literally on top of him snuggling into his chest. He holds one of your hands and rubs your back.

If Damian lays on you, you’re usually sitting and he places his head on your lap. You love playing and messing around with his hair.

When you found out Damian’s a vigilante, it was a massive accident

You called him while he was on patrol, whispering in a shaking voice that two men had broken into your apartment.

He booked it to your apartment and busted through the window, in costume.

After taking care of the guys and handing them over to the authority, he starts questioning you to make sure you’re okay. When you don’t answer he realizes he’s still in costume talking to you now.

You’re in shock because now a lot of things make sense.

You’re upset for about an hour(because Damian knows how to make you happy when you’re angry) and then you’re utterly fascinated by Damian’s other life

Damian tells you he doesn’t want you to know a lot because it could put you in danger and you’re the one part of his life that’s normal

You accept his wishes and continue with your relationship as normal.

There are only two things that changed:

One: Damian moves you to a more secure apartment and makes sure you have plenty of bats or batons you could use to protect yourself “just in case”

Two: Damian spends almost every night at your apartment after patrol now

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Upgraded

W-what is this? Content? No way! 

CW: The Machine (forced intubation, restraints, force feeding, torture) conditioned whumpee, medical whump (kinda? idk) nb whumpee, noncon drugging. 

[Tool’s Masterlist]

“You know you’re my favorite tool, don’t you?” 

Tool froze, one hand holding a dusting rag. He nodded. 

“Do you know why?” The Mechanic was leaning in the doorway grinning coldly. Tool swallowed and straightened their back. 

“Because I work. Every time, whatever you need.” 

“Exactly,” the Mechanic mused as he stalked closer. They wanted to take a step back, wanted to get away from him but they wouldn’t. Couldn’t. 

“Other prototypes didn’t work. They broke, couldn't take the pressure. But you’re perfect for me. Not just some dumb slave, are you? There’s still an analytical mind up there.” He tapped on Tool’s forehead, making them flinch back in surprise. 

“Uh, Y-Yes, Sir.” 

The Mechanic grinned further. “Good. I’ll give you a chance to prove it.” With that, he turned and promptly left the room. Tool followed, as he knew he was supposed to. 

The two wound down the hall, past the den and the large rooms, past the mechanic’s office; past his work room. Tool’s blood went cold. The only thing that was this far down the hallway was, was-

The Machine Room. 

The Mechanic had been working the last few days, out of the house. Tool had thought he was simply out of the house, never venturing into the Machine Room if they could help it. The Mechanic strode in as if it was *nothing*. Well, to him it was. Simply another room, filled with equipment that had never hurt *him.* 

Tool shook, but they entered. 

There was something else in there, something new. It was metal and medical looking, long as the bench and hinged as if it closed. There were straps and tubes, a molded section fit for a human body. Tool froze where they stood. 

“I’ve been making an upgraded system,” the Mechanic mused as he surveyed his work proudly. “The other version was *fine,* but it was never what I had envisioned. It was what I settled for, what I thought would be more…. *realistic*. But this? This is what I’ve always had in mind.” 

He smiled down at it, as if he were a proud parent. A parent of a monster. With the same cold eyes, he turned his head up to Tool. 

“I want you to try it out.” 

They took a step back in self-preservation. No, no they had been good, they had behaved. They were shaking, arms wrapped around their waist. 

“P-Please, Master,” 

“You said you still had your analytical mind, Tool. I want you to use it. I want to know the differences, the strengths and weaknesses of both machines. I trust that you can do that, can you not?” 

Tool was starting to panic. *Please, please please no*. 

The Mechanic took their non answer as a yes, and pulled him closer. “You have been good lately, so I’ll administer a sedative for the intubation. See what you can earn through good behaviour? No more nasty bruises in your throat.” 

The needle slid into their neck so naturally that Tool barely even felt it. They were shaking, tears pouring down their cheeks. “No” repeated endlessly in their head, fully unbelieving of what was going to happen. 

Their legs grew weaker, and they had no choice but to sit on the contraption for support. Clinically, the Mechanic stripped them of their shirt and tight undershirt, as well as their black slacks. They shivered, eyes lidded but mind very much intact. 

“A colleague of mine acquired this sedative; well it’s mostly paralytic. Keeps the body still but the mind is still aware. Isn’t that nice? It truly is the best option for things like this.” 

Tool choked out another sound as their head slowly lulled back, body starting to feel numb and limp. The Mechanic helped them, easing them down to laying. He leaned over them, brushing back their hair with a self-indulgent smile. 

Then he picked up the feeding tube. 

Tool closed his eyes, starting to feel distant from everything. He felt the hands that corrected the position of his head, felt rubbed enter a nostril and start its trek down his throat. It hurt, it still always hurt. It pushed at the back of their tongue and inside of their head. It tugged on skin and shook as they breathed. 

Without any other option, Tool swallowed to help it along. 

They didn’t open their eyes again, not while the Mechanic fussed and mused with the machine, not when he inserted the ventilator into their chest. Only when their hands were pinned down, only when the electrodes were stuck to their arms and biceps did they look up again. 

He was smiling. 

“There’s some new features on this one, isn’t that nice? Like I said, I want you to pay attention, Tool. I want you to be able to describe the differences and similarities. I want a full analysis, understood?” 

Tool didn’t try to nod, didn’t acknowledge him. Their eyes slipped closed. 

A hum, a sound of footsteps, and typing. Then another noise, one that hadn’t been in the haunting nightmares that plagued them. Hydraulic pistons. Tool’s eyes shot open, glancing around to try and find the source. 

*The hatch was closing.* 

As if it was once again the first time, Tool struggled. He attempted to fight, to pull his wrists and ankles from the restraints and his back off the table. He bit at the mouthguard, pushed against the tubes in his chest. The hatch was closing, it was closing him in. 

And like the first time, he failed. 

It was dark. Small. Cramped. There was no space to move, a weight pressing in from all sides. There was something new to the horror of it, the terror of being so wholly trapped. It was like being buried alive by metal and machinery. Even if something were to loosen, even if the straps were to give, Tool would have no chance of pressing the lid open. 

Not only that, but there was something else. Sound. A low buzz next to Tool’s left ear. It was monotonous and even, never pausing or breaking. They wanted to panic, wanted to feel something, but all they could focus on was the buzzing. There was nothing, nothing else in his hell but pain and the buzz. 

Then it moved. It snapped to their right, flickering intermittently. 

Tool couldn’t focus, couldn’t relax. The pattern was fully random, never repeating. It would stay for hours in one ear, switch to the other for only a brief moment before it returned. It would come in short blips, it would change pitch. 

There would be silence for hours at a time. 

Tool was exhausted, brain desperately trying to find stability in something, in one singular thing, but it was denied even that comfort again and again. 

Just as it seemed the buzzing could be ignored, could be accepted, white light pierced through their eyelids. Tool whimpered - or tired to - and strained to roll his head to the side, but it was in vain. 

It was hell. 

This was hell. 

~~

@unicornscotty @as-a-matter-of-whump @starnight-whump @whump-me-all-night-long @whump-it @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @valkyrie-whump @cupcakes-and-pain @whole-and-apart-and-between @misspelledwitch @fanmanga1357-blog @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @just-a-raccoon-in-a-party-hat @blackrosesandwhump @panic-and-chaos

[sevlgi]

oh, for you

requested: yes

group: dreamcatcher

pairing: handong x fem!reader

genre: ANGST HA

contents: established relationship, handong has a terminal disease, reader has mind manipulation powers, i’m crying in the club

warnings: terminal disease, also just like... angst

synopsis: You and Handong don’t have much time left. Even if it kills you, you’ll make what you have the best time of your lives.

a/n: THIS IS SO SAD HUH

word count: 1.2k

The air smelled deeply of roses.

The sky was an impossibly bright blue, the pure color of sapphires, only broken by the pale clouds that floated peacefully about the warm golden sun.

The ground was absolutely covered in roses of every color, every size, every type-- and yet, none of it could compare to the girl standing in the center of it all.

“Do you like it?”

Beaming, Han Dong spun to you. She was dressed in the finest, softest silk possible, and jewels glittered all over her like fat beads of rain. “I love it, Y/N.”

You smiled, and reached down to pluck a rose off of the ground. The pink bud looked beautiful tucked just above the girl’s ear, and her blush matched it in a way that could only make you smile. “I’m glad.”

“I think this is the most real one yet,” your girlfriend continued. She bent down and stuck her hands into the pool of flowers, laughing in amazement when not a single one glitched or disappeared. “Really. You’re getting so much better at this,” she gasped.

“Do you want anything else? Some animals, something to eat?”

Han Dong shrugged. “I don’t know. This is... it’s beautiful already. I don’t think I need anything else, but... here. Come sit with me.”

You obeyed. Flower petals crunched under your weight, releasing even heavier of the sweet smell into the air; as soon as you turned your face to Han Dong, she smiled mischievously and cast a handful of petals into your face.

Sputtering, you reached for her, and pushed her down into the flowers by her shoulders. Han Dong giggled when she found your nose brushing up against hers; your hands sunk into the soft bed beneath you gradually, until your lips met and your eyes fluttered closer.

It was blissful. Just the two of you, the feeling of her hands scrunching into the back of your shirt and the taste of her smile against yours; you couldn’t imagine any moment that had felt better.

But when you pulled apart, Han Dong let out a sigh, disappointment creasing her brow as she reached up for your face. “It’s happening again.”

Reaching your hand up, you sighed out in exasperation as you felt the sticky warmth to your nose. You scrunched your face up in concentration, putting all of your energy into sustaining the blissful world that you wanted nothing more than to remain in-- but to no avail.

You opened your eyes again to find your girlfriend in the hospital bed, her hand on your arm just like in your dream world. Only here, she was hooked up to a machine that beeped steadily, and her silken gown was replaced with the cotton one from the hospital.

“It’s okay,” she said immediately, sensing your apologies. Han Dong handed you a tissue to hold to your nose, offering you as sweet of a smile as she could. “It was beautiful.”

“It wasn’t enough,” you muttered, springing up from your chair. It had been morning when you started to conjure up the world, to imagine every little detail of it as Han Dong watched-- it was already nearly night, stars twinkling between the window’s blinds.

“It is, Y/N. You only started using your gift these two months, you can’t expect yourself to hold it for weeks,” Han Dong assured you, reaching out for your hands. You allowed yourself to be pulled closer to the bed, to the love of your life.

“We don’t have that much time left, Dongie.” You bit down on your lip, hard, and said again, “We don’t have much time. I need to make it perfect before you before you...”

“Before I go?”

You shook your head immediately, reaching up to wipe yet another droplet of blood from your face. “Before I can’t anymore,” you clarified.

As if simply talking about it had brought it on, you scrunched up your face at the pain that jolted through your head, like a lightning bolt contained inside your skull. The pains were getting worse, and according to your doctor, if you kept using your powers for hours on end each day, they would create something catastrophic.

Han Dong brushed a kiss across your knuckles and squeezed your hand. She promised, “You’ve made me so happy already. I don’t want you to do this to yourself, I might still have a few months left.”

“Don’t say that,” you interrupted, sinking into your chair. The pain that wracked your heart was honestly worse than the aches in your head; you couldn’t bear the thought of only having a few months left with the only person you’d ever loved. “Please.”

“You said it yourself, Y/N. We don’t have much time.” Han Dong smiled weakly; she was wan in the weak light of her hospital room, despite all the rich blankets you had piled onto her bed. The disease was sucking the very life out of her, even though the brightness in her eyes had never dulled.

“I didn’t... I didn’t mean it.” You shook your head rapidly, squeezing tightly onto her hands. “I swear. Look, you should... you should go to sleep. The doctor said that rest might make it better, right?”

“I’m not in pain. You are. Because of me.”

You only came to a stop when she grabbed onto your face, one hand on either side of your neck, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be okay,” she whispered. “You’ll be okay too, as long as you stop.”

Exhaling, you kissed her again, as hard as you could without making it painful. “One more time,” you promised fiercely. “But you’ll make it. I know you will.”

It wasn’t the answer Han Dong wanted, but she must have sensed that you wouldn’t let it go. She nodded, and gathered her knees up to her chest as you closed your eyes again. “Okay. This time... how about a mountain top? High enough that we’re above the clouds.”

The clouds formed first, bubbly round forms of white that started to dapple pink and gold when you commanded them to. 

“And... it’s sunset.”

The sky brightened to a deep orange.

“There are comets everywhere.”

“That’s not realistic,” you muttered even as you saw the blue and pink lights streak across your dream world.

Han Dong laughed, but continued with her descriptions. “We can see the city below us, getting ready for the night time. Busy, but we’re peaceful.”

And that was enough. When you felt a squeeze on your hand, you woke to find the exact scene your girlfriend had pictured, and the girl herself with a sad smile beside you.

“It’s perfect,” she whispered before you even asked, bending over to brush the softest of kisses to your lips.

You accepted it, even as you could feel the tears starting to sting at your eyes. The comets blurred in your vision, but you could see that Han Dong was crying too, crystal-like tears slipping down her face onto your shirt.

“It won’t be the last time,” you promised her, sucking in a shaky breath. “I promise.”

“I love you so much, Y/N,” she answered, her body wracked with her sobs. “I always will.”

[bookwyrminspiration]

Oh lord that was beautiful and I love how you write Fintan and now I need every drop of him that I can get because he seemed so delightfully nearly insane and addled as if he was flickering thoughts and finding amusement in his insanity and all the cracks along his body and the fire beneath his skin and the way he was loving burning up inside, that was great. He was still so chaotic, too!! I loved him, it was great. It seems like a pretty good leap for his character, going from sexy arson cartoon villain to this a shell of his former self; Still keeping his mirth and his brains but with so many thoughts flickering around like the tips of a flame, burning so bright inside that his candle is almost up. I can't wait for him to snap, see where that lands him, what happens to him when he can't hold any more, when he's burned too bright, when he collapses to the ground in fits of laughter and sobs as his whole life crashes around him and he's stuck with the clashing memories from before his rebellion and from now, how everything he did was for nothing as he witnesses his work crash and burn and only do more harm from good, as he has burnt himself so badly that he can't even recognise his reflection and thinks, for the first time ever, "what's the point?"

He's out of ideas, out of fire, out of fuel, put of life. There's nothing left to burn to keep him running. He's been trampled on and even his most trusted friends have abandoned him to a horrid fate. Some Fintante can even be slipped in as he's brought before the council and can't bare to look up and see the hatred in the inflictor's stormy grey eyes. He's been reduced to a puddle of snot and tears and laughter, worse than a broken mind, and yet. Bronte feels no guilt, no remorse. Only sadness that his once lively and kind beloved sought this route and became so pitiful, so small, nothing

Bronte does not feel grief or remorse because the Fintan he lived has been long dead

Do you have a list of chapters that Fintan's in so far?

!! This is all so sweet, thanks for waiting a little as I answered this as I was going to bed right as you sent it and couldn't answer immediately but!! You're incredibly kind, thank you <33

I was trying to achieve a balance of "something is very wrong with him" and also "he's very cunning and dangerous and someone to be wary of." I keep rereading the way you described him, finding amusement in the insanity and loving burning up because like!! yes!! that's what I wanted!! Despite all that's happened to him he's so enthralled with it all, he still loves fire and he loves to give himself over to it and it's almost unhinged, just how much he doesn't care. He knows when to be careful though, which is what makes the chaos more frightening because you know he's choosing to lose control of himself, at least in part.

The shell of his former self descriptor is apt!! He's still Fintan but he's also...not. He's a Fintan whose been through something we don't know (well, you don't know. I know what it was/is) and it's killing him inside. He wants to survive and to be in control and to let out all the flames pooling beneath his skin.

Also you saying that it's a realistic leap for his character is the best compliment ever, like I am going to be riding this high all day oaiergn. I always worry that I make the characters ooc, or at least unrealistically ooc. I know I change a few things--like deciding there was no romance between anyone--and have had to adjust them to fit into the situation I created, so it's nice to hear that they still read enough like themselves. And I love writing breakdowns so so much, they're like one of my favorite scenes/arcs to write so your detailing of him falling apart and burning down to the quick and wondering what the point of it all was is so appealing, like I love it so much.

Your ask is making me think about the council more because they haven't really been present in the au because they've lost a lot of power due to being moved underground and indebted to other species for their lives. I'm not going to slip any romantic or overtly fintante bits into the au simply because this is a no romance story and I don't want to, but!! a thing I've been doing that I do like is having moments between characters to give them time together out of the romantic context, so I 100% could slip in some tension between Bronte and Fintan that could be read a certain way if you want it to be! Depends on where Fintan's story ends if he'll have the chance to see Bronte again, who knows!

As for where Fintan has been so far: he's first mentioned at the very very end of chapter 19 (as a cliffhanger), then he's present at the beginning of chapter 20, then comes back towards the beginning of chapter 26, stays through 27 and the beginning of 28. He's part of an event-thing that's drawn out through those chapters.

He'll very likely make more appearances in the future, but for now that's where he is!

Thank you for reading and for your kind words, they seriously made my day <33