#obey me relationship dynamics

[devildomwriter]

can you talk more about Mephistopheles and Thirteen I love their dynamic

Sure here’s a few things I know about them/interactions they’ve had off the top of my head

• She once made him go to a cafe with her to discover why he thinks the way he does

• Mephistopheles mistakingly assumed Thirteen was interested in dating him when she asked why he didn’t have a partner. She called him a fossil.

• Mephistopheles thinks she is reckless, an example is when she wouldn’t follow directions to a potion and it blew up in their faces

• Mephistopheles thinks Thirteen has a horrible sense of names

• Thirteen was surprised to find out Mephistopheles is traditionally gentlemanly. When it was raining he held her umbrella and bags and didn’t complain once.

• They seem to be relatively close and call each other out on things. When Mephistopheles told MC them looking good in their outfit was proof anyone could look good in the right clothing, Thirteen immediately called him out and said what he meant was he thinks is MC looks gorgeous. He stammers in response.

• Thirteen insisted on giving Mephistopheles a dame makeover and he caved in, so she’s done his make up before.

• Thirteen accidentally shot a bazooka at him. This is how they met.

[sanegoddess1]

[sketch-guardian]

Is it alright if I ask for all the RAD classmates with a child reader who’s kind of creepy

Like child mc wears maybe morute or Shiro Lolita and just doesn’t respond much, like everyone barely hears their voice because all they do is just stare and watch you with this creepy bear in their hands. It’s kinda like those creepy kids in horror movies

Of course it's alright✨there's no problem with such ask☺As usual, although I don't think there is any need to specify since it should be obvious, the headcanons with child MC are platonic and contain family dynamics, so the OCs in question are like child MC's legal guardians. Now let's start:

"RAD CLASSMATES+NEW EXCHANGE STUDENTS WITH A CREEPY CHILD MC"

DEMYA

I'm not sure how to explain this without trigger warnings, but Demya in the past, and even currently depending on the case, has devoured both humans and other demons, she was also raised in a tribe of bloodthirsty and flesh-eating demons, therefore she can be defined as...occasionally cannibal and it's very unlikely that a mere creepy child like MC would actually manage to disturb her, indeed Demya would even find child MC cute like a doll or they would remind her a bit of herself when she was welcomed by Azul and Domnra a long time ago, barely able to speak, with disheveled hair, deadpan eyes and mouth dripping with blood. Furthermore, Demya would instinctively understand what child MC would try to mean even if they don't communicate much, having personally experienced a non-verbal phase for a period of her life. Demya would also believe that child MC's staring is equivalent to studying a prey before attacking, a little like an animal, behavior that makes sense to her, even if Demya is more impulsive. If child MC would like to, Demya could teach them how to run on all fours or train them to be flexible, which for her would be pretty fun, in fact it would be hilarious to see people like Mammon or Levi terrified running away from child MC who chases them like a spider-

DOMNRA/MOBIM

Domnra has a fairly gothic/emo look so to speak, so although in terms of style it might seem at odds with child MC, he would appreciate the horror air that surrounds them, even if it would take him a while to get used to child MC's intense staring, which would sometimes make him uncomfortable. Domnra would have no problem understanding child MC's quiet way of communicating, used to Mobim expressing itself solely with gestures and squeaks, sometimes the three of them could even not speak at all and simply enjoy time together listening to some music or perhaps with some workouts, but very light things, like Domnra doing push-ups with Child MC and Mobim on his back. Furthermore, Domnra is still friends with Azul and Demya, which makes him automatically a dumbass, so in a rare playful mood, Domnra might find funny letting MC walk around with Mobim in their arms like a teddy bear, only to scare other people as soon as they realize the little curse moves and is alive. Speaking of which, Mobim would love to cuddle with child MC, not finding them creepy and it would play with their toys

AZUL

Azul floats around, walks through walls and some of his acquaintances are literally ghosts, plus he raised Demya when she was in her most uncivilized and feral state, so the silence wouldn't be a problem (he talks enough for both-) and child MC could never result disturbing for Azul, in fact since their clothing styles are similar, it could seem that they're trying to match or they could be really mistaken for a father with his child, which Azul wouldn't mind at all, he would find the opportunity to show off their family photos that he has in his wallet. Azul and child MC would go on little trips to haunted houses, he would also make their toys dance or float, and paint Victorian-style portraits of the two of them together. Would Azul make the pictures move to scare those who come to visit for shits and giggles? Obviously-

ZURI

Zuri would immediately notice child MC's peculiar behavior and that most would find it creepy, especially due to the intense staring and silence, however as long as child MC is healthy and happy, Zuri would pay no mind to it, she would also provide a plausible explanation to impertinent questions regarding MC's behavior. Zuri would be able to appreciate child MC's style and would contribute to the buying or weaving of clothes of their taste, then walking together through the streets of Devildom like two fashion icons. Zuri is the type to spoil child MC with gifts and trinkets, without exaggerating of course, but she would also make sure to decorate child MC's room to their liking. Moreover, Zuri would buy a notebook for child MC with which to communicate through writing or drawing

ODON

Odon involuntarily terrifies almost everyone they meet and their wide smile has often creeped out those around them. Odon has also been compared to the boogeyman several times and their past precedes them, instilling fear in beings who remember them, even though they have changed for the better, therefore a disturbing child MC would not even appear as such to Odon, on the contrary they would simply be surprised by the fact that child MC wants to spend time with them and that they aren't afraid, in a certain sense Odon could understand being judged for their own ways of acting. Odon likes to observe people as well, so them and child MC would share such hobby, spending time together. Odon's eye-like creatures would act as little bodyguards, understanding what child MC needs even before they attempt to communicate. Also Odon's style seems similar to dark cottagore, but they don't have a clear opinion on styles, whatever child MC likes is fine

REMIEL

Remiel, as an angel of death with little experience with the world of the living, has no idea what according to human custom is normal or not for a child and is hardly impressed by what people would deem scary, in general she's still slowly learning feelings and how to experience or show them, so she would treat child MC as she would any other child. Child MC's habit of staring at people would be fine for Remiel, because she also likes to learn how the world works and to do so sometimes you have to limit yourself to observing. Not gonna lie, a creepy child MC with Remiel, who looks as a corpse-like angel of death, would be disturbing to almost anyone, a real shame since both Remiel and child MC are innocent precious treasures. Despite her somber and gloomy nature, Remiel is very empathetic, although blunt, therefore she would understand when child MC tries to communicate. Remiel and child MC could occasionally be seen together wandering around libraries or graveyards to check if there are lost souls to help

NATHANIEL

Nathaniel in some ways wouldn't be too different from this version of child MC, both being taciturn and seemingly stoic enough to give off creepy vibes. Nathaniel would have boundless patience with child MC when they try to express themselves in words and if someone dared to interrupt them in the process, Nathaniel would politely but firmly remind that child MC was talking and would let them continue with some soft encouragement and reassurance. Nathaniel would probably teach child MC his way of communicating through gestures and nods, going so far as to understand each other even with just a glance, making others wonder if they are actually having a conversation telepathically. Nathaniel would also find child MC's style curious, almost reminding him of how some young angels dress

URIEL

The warrior angel would have no idea whether child MC's behavior is normal by human standards or what is typically creepy, however the question she would ask herself most frequently would be why child MC bothered to become attached to her, someone who doesn't have a very understanding attitude, but Uriel would be able to live with the idea with time. Uriel wouldn't care if child MC stares at her or other people, she doesn't know that it's usually rude and she honestly thinks it's just child MC's way of admiring those they deem worthy of esteem and their way of dressing would remind Uriel of the concept of purity, which she would approve of. Uriel might seem harsh sometimes as she would try to push child MC to speak more often, since she wouldn't know how to interpret all their actions, however if she notices that child MC risks withdrawing even more, then Uriel would swallow her pride and make an effort, taking advantage of her years of experience with Nathaniel to communicate better. It would also be quite funny to see Uriel believe that child MC's teddy bear is a strange unpractical soft shield at first and give them a wooden toy sword after, because it's unsafe to go unarmed

[rebel-dritch]

The Odyssey AU 🫶 Scroll down for additional notes and information!!!

Reasoning + information below :D

Long story short, Penelope's impressive and outstanding faithfulness and loyalty to Odysseus reminded me of how Barbatos is loyal to Diavolo.

Long story below incase anyone wants to read my ramble on the two :) 💞

He's always there to support him and find solutions to his problems (with some.. suspicions admittedly). He never falters on serving him, and he always follows Diavolo's orders no matter what. He's always there to defend him and his side, and Diavolo has him if he wanted something accomplished that goes beyond the limitations of time and space.

Penelope in Greek mythology is often idolized to be a cunning weaver that symbolizes faithfulness and loyalty. She tricks the suitors, buying more time for Odysseus to come home. I think Barbatos would do the same for Diavolo as his loyal steward and as someone who believes in him wholeheartedly. He can manipulate time after all. That's what attracted me to their dynamic—Barbatos would do everything for Diavolo.

I do like to believe that Diavolo does care for him too, in a way. He is the one who kept Barbatos inside the kingdom in the first place. They dynamic tickles at me truly <3 I love to see more of them

[666writingcafe]

The Angel's Halo

Once MC and I give my brothers the medicine and supplies they need to get through the day, we decide to spend some time out of the house. After all, there's not much more we can do there at the moment that would be beneficial to my brothers.

"Do you want to grab a bite to eat?" MC asks as we begin walking.

"Good idea," I tell them. "Azzy was going on and on about this new cafe that's supposed to be opening today. He mentioned it's not too far from here."

"What's it called?" Normally, names don't really stick in my brain, but this particular one stood out to me so much that it's practically engraved on there.

"The Angel's Halo." MC snorts in amusement. "Yeah, that was kind of my reaction, too."

Here's the thing: I figured that someone from the Celestial Realm was gonna be following us close behind once we got settled here in the human world. I mean, from my understanding, MC was more or less blessed by Michael to wear Lucifer's old ring; he probably wants to make sure he made the right decision, which means keeping an eye on both them and us to make sure that they remain "pure" enough.

If he's smart, he would have sent Simeon. He's the one that would raise the least amount of suspicion. And I suppose the little chihuahua would have to tag along. It would be cruel for his owner to leave him behind.

Sure enough, as we approach the entrance to the new cafe, Luke's outside, twirling a sign around.

"I'm surprised he's able to do that," MC quietly observes. "He's never been the most coordinated."

"He probably needs a break," I reply. "Who knows how long he's been doing that trick." MC playfully glares at me before walking up to the young angel, who accidentally hits them in the face with the sign. I silently watch to make sure MC's alright, but once the two of them begin catching up with each other, I duck inside.

"Well, hello there, Mammon." Simeon looks up from wiping the counter. Despite the smile he gives me, I can tell something's off with him.

"It's Mason around here," I reply, sitting down on one of the stools in front of the counter. "And you're lucky I'm here. If Azzy came like he wanted to, he'd be freaking out about the bags under your eyes." Simeon gently throws the towel he was using over his shoulder.

"I haven't been able to get much sleep. Getting this place set up has been a lot more work than I had anticipated."

"Clearly." He's hiding something. I've never seen him look this exhausted, not even when we were living together in the Celestial Realm and he was still one of the Seraphim.

"I'm sure you're wondering why we're here." I shrug.

"I mean, Michael probably sent ya down here, right?" Simeon hums affirmatively.

"Officially, we've been appointed to help coordinate relations between the human world and the Celestial Realm." He's given me an opening. If he didn't want me to dig further, he wouldn't have said "officially".

"And unofficially?" He glances outside, presumably to make sure that MC and Luke are still preoccupied.

"He's testing me," he whispers.

"Testing you? For what? A promotion?" Simeon sighs, shaking his head.

"I've gotten into a bit of trouble. One of my notebooks was discovered." Okay...

"But you're a writer, right? Like, you've gotten permission to do that."

"Yes, and if that was what was found, nothing would have come of it, but this particular one was more of a personal journal. The contents inside are, shall we say, things that no angel ought to even be thinking about, let alone express into words."

"They shouldn't have been snooping in the first place."

"You forget, the Celestial Realm believes that nothing should be kept secret. Everything must eventually come to light." Simeon pauses. "Plus, I accidentally left it in a public space. The person who found it was merely trying to discover whose it was so that they could return it to its rightful owner."

"Dude, what exactly were you writing about in there?" He sighs again.

"In a word, corruption." Oh shit. Well, no wonder he's in trouble.

"Of yourself, or someone else?"

"Technically both, but I'm the active party."

"Please tell me it isn't Luke." Simeon widens his eyes.

"Absolutely not. He's merely a child. I wouldn't do that to him."

"Then who..." Right as I begin asking the question, I answer it for myself. "Oh, Simeon." He gives me a tired smile.

"I know." He glances outside once more. "Believe me, I've tried to keep these thoughts at bay, but I can't help it. I mean, how can someone's soul grow brighter after spending a significant amount of time with all seven Avatars of Sin? It makes no sense, Mam--Mason."

"And it upsets you, doesn't it?"

"It's more frustrating than upsetting. I know it's wrong, but there's a part of me that feels like..." He trails off, trying to regain his composure. "If I were to fall, I'd want to take them down with me." Oh my...I had no idea that MC made him feel that way.

"You're lucky that you're merely getting tested."

"Yes and no. This little test of his will determine the severity of my punishment. If I behave myself, then I simply have to be supervised when I'm writing. And do a few extra tasks, but that's not a big deal."

"And if you don't?"

"You mean, if I succumb to temptation?" I nod my head. I hear the door open. Simeon leans in close, trying to make sure that neither Luke or MC can hear him.

"Then I might as well not be an angel anymore."

[jessamine-rose]

So I finally found the time to read Chapter 5 + the Hades event of What in Hell is Bad? and AAHHH LEVIATHAN?!! God, his character is so interesting and I can’t wait to see more of him.

Idk I just find his personality and cold attitude towards MC quite refreshing. Not to mention that he has such a lovely voice and beautiful appearance…….aaahhh he’s so intriguing <3

AND LEVIATHAN’S H SCENE?? Let’s just say that my inner sadist was very happy with how it turned out. Honestly, we need more characters who are masochist + power bottom ψ(｀∇´)ψ

[deniedbetahusband4]

[thesubswhisper]

Real talk and that bite of self-respect you need to hear

Them: Na I’m good thx

You: ok 😕

Me : “yeah, this stings, but damn, you’re too good to wait around for someone who can’t see it.”

In any dynamic or scene, finding the right partner means going through the process of vetting, and trust me, that’s a damn good thing. Vetting helps us filter out the people who aren’t meant for us, leading us closer to those who actually get us. But here’s the catch, babe: not everyone we feel that spark with is going to feel it back. And yeah, sometimes it’s the people we’re drawn to the most who just don’t share that same vision.

So what happens when that dreamy, dazzling connection you felt with someone doesn’t go the way you thought it would? It’s even tougher when everything seemed to be moving in a positive direction… only to find out it’s a dead-end. This is where we need that solid belief in ourselves, that quiet reminder that we’re still damn amazing, that we’re gonna be just fine.

Rejection? It’s just redirection, pushing you closer to someone who actually aligns with you.

Think about it like this: if a person tells you, “We’re not compatible,” believe them. Why? Because you deserve to be happy and fully appreciated. There’s no use wasting your energy waiting around for someone to change, like sitting at a pizza place hoping they’ll magically start serving Piña colada margarita ham pizza 🍕 when all they offer is Pepperoni. Walk out, baby, and find what truly satisfies you.

Self-awareness is your weapon here. Take a hard look at what you need, what you want, and what you can genuinely give in a relationship. Do the inner work, figure out your non-negotiables, and you’ll find yourself aligned with someone who respects and matches that energy. You’re going to come to find that the people that rejected you that yeah they were right you have nothing in common. Nothing that they have or that you have would ever be compatible.

So keep moving forward remind yourself how amazing you are even if other people don’t see it because there are gonna be people who don’t see a damn thing but as long as you know, nothing else matters.

*A message from KreeKree ❤️

You’re a catch, and anyone who doesn’t see it? Their loss. Sometimes the best reminders are the ones we end up giving ourselves, Rejection’s a nasty beast, but it’s also a blessing in disguise—it clears out the people who don’t deserve a second of your damn time. 😘

[otome-on-the-side]

I wonder how all those angst fic writers feel about a younger chained up satan being canon 

[gifti3]

How does mc spread their attention among 7+ people??

[mejomonster]

Chapter 141. Its just so funny to me Fei Du let's Luo Wenzhou play daddy. Fei Du is like sure I'll stop partying if the wife wants me to, stop drinking and street racing, wear warmer attire etc. And by wife at home he means a man almost a decade older scolding him like a baby but he likes his lovers exactly like that so <3 he's like "it's fine. I can follow his rules, I didn't care that much about the alcohol, as long as he's in my arms" and you know ignoring the whole "I might lock him in a basement and keep as a prize comment I made this winter"

Zhou Huaijin looked in the same direction as him, his eyes dimming. “Will you have tea? Or some sake?”

“Tea is fine. They don’t let me drink alcohol at home.”

[sketch-guardian]

I feel like I need to start adding a -___ anon because of how much I send requests now, I would love to send them without anon but it’s honestly so scary to post or comment anything 😞

I don’t know if you’re very comfortable with writing certain types of mental illnesses, like I saw on your boundaries post that you were fine writing mental and physical conditions but I just wanna know if you’re comfortable with a request where child mc has like ptsd or depression and always seems to be sad and gloomy (turns out it’s from bullying back in the home realm.) I really like seeing posts where child mc isn’t very energetic since I didn’t really get that very happy experience and can’t relate (〃▽〃)

Also I wish there was a snow leopard emoji, that’d be so cool. I love snow leopards

SORRY IF THIS IS A LOT OF WORDS, IM STILL REALLY NEW TO SENDING STUFF THAT ISNT TO PEOPLE I KNOW 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Well, there's no obligation to add a -___ anon, only if you feel like it🤷🏻and don't worry, I know how scary it can be to write openly to people you don't know or are close to🙈so it doesn't matter the number of asks you send, if you prefer to stay anonymous, so be it, it's not a problem☺As a (hopefully) future psychologist (I'm still studying at university-), it doesn't make me uncomfortable to talk about such topics, I just hope to write them well and not make too many mistakes😖so your ask is perfectly fine and I thank you for asking anyway just to be safe💜Furthermore, as a child I was very quiet and lazy, I was sometimes compared to a doll even though I was content, so more or less I can relate and I hope you are doing better now✨Also I agree, more animal emojis should be added💕(perhaps you could be snow leopard anon?🤔). Now let's get started with the platonic headcanons, I assumed you wanted all OCs btw🙈:

"RAD CLASSMATES+NEW EXCHANGE STUDENTS WITH A CHILD MC WHO HAS DEPRESSION/PTSD"

DEMYA

Demya didn't spend an exactly normal childhood, firstly due to the type of environment in which she was born as a demon, part of a bloodthirsty tribe, and secondly due to the events that characterized her turbulent past, that is, having seen her family die in front of the her eyes and then being imprisoned in a human circus as a freak, chained and malnourished, only later when she was freed was she able to begin her journey of recovery. Demya might seem brash and prone to violence, in some respects she is, however she softens towards children and with child MC in particular she would be very protective, especially considering what they had to go through. Demya would not tolerate abuse towards child MC and would ask them to give her all the names of those who bullied them on Earth, not to kill them, not wanting to get child MC into trouble and considering that most likely the bullies are children as well, but simply to scar them for life and thus prevent them from finding other victims, the sight of her bloodied on the ceiling should be enough. Demya would also feel sorry for child MC being miserable most of the time and would try in her own way to make them happier, to make them overcome their trauma, because together they are stronger, Demya would always welcome child MC into her arms in case of need of comfort and they could stay in her nest (of blankets and pillows) for as long as they need to

DOMNRA/MOBIM

Domnra had a fairly normal childhood, according to celestial standards at least, given that as a soldier, he was trained to fight from a young age. The most difficult period of Domnra's life began after his fall from the Celestial Realm and after Mobim's birth, it took him time to metabolize and get used to the new situation. Child MC would remind Domnra of Mobim during its first days of existence: small, weak, helpless and afraid. Having matured over time and having learned to take care of Mobim, Domnra would try to help child MC learn how to defend themselves, both physically and emotionally, from bullies or fears, because they would have the full right to assert their own person. Domnra would become like child MC's shadow, always at their side in case of danger, as a figure to hide behind or as a shoulder to cry on, anyone who mistreats child MC should pass through Domnra first if they have the courage. Mobim would also help make child MC feel less sad, becoming their friend, playmate and comforting them, without the need for words and showing child MC that crying is good for letting off steam

AZUL

Azul was a happy and energetic child, who enjoyed running among flowers along with colorful butterflies, without a care in the world, his mood management problems began in adulthood, after his fall from the Celestial Realm. Azul is a very empathetic demon when it comes to feelings, especially those of people he cares about, so when he would sense child MC's sadness, his colors would change from light blue to dark blue in a sense of recognition and Azul would carry child MC in his arms, to comfort and console them. Azul would be worryingly quiet at the news of child MC being a victim of bullying and it's likely that one day, in the form of a spirit, he will enter the bullies' bedroom and scare them so much that they will never repeat such actions again. Azul would try to help and support child MC to find a way to express themselves, such as drawing or photography and as he is better trained in managing emotions, he would try to help child MC overcome their depression, one step at a time, always by their side, showing pride at every small milestone achieved

ZURI

Since she was a child, Zuri has always followed a rather rigid discipline and had to meet very high expectations from other angels towards her, therefore she didn't spend much time playing or having fun as perhaps it would have been more appropriate for a young angel, too busy excel and show herself as a symbol of purity. Old habits die hard, so even after she became a demon, Zuri remained a perfectionist, however she would never want something like that for child MC, after the way they have already suffered. With Zuri, there would be no expectations of happiness and joy to respect, but rather a probable professional therapeutic path, for child MC's sake, to provide them with the tools to process their trauma and work on their depression. Zuri would probably explain to child MC that the bullies who bothered them have likely been through difficult situations, however that doesn't excuse their actions and child MC would not be required to forgive them, but rather to move on with their life and heal. Anyone who has any comments to make about child MC's behavior should respond personally to Zuri and while not often very loving, Zuri would cradle child MC in her arms during depression or ptsd episodes

ODON

Odon had a bizarre childhood due to their ancient eldritch nature, they don't know what it means to have a family and as a child they did anything to feel a single emotion, even if it meant committing genocide. Over time Odon got "bored", because suffering became repetitive and they realized that showing kindness received much more interesting and varied reactions, that was the reason for the beginning of Odon's change for the better, however difficulties weren't lacking, since everyone was too afraid of them. Odon knows what it means to be marginalized and isolated, they also know sadness although they don't show it, therefore Odon would be very understanding and patient with child MC's issues, accompanying them step by step during their growth. No sane person would be stupid enough to bully child MC given Odon's reputation, so they would stop being teased, while as for the rest, Odon would read stories with child MC on their lap while they drink a hot beverage, to make them feel protected and safe for once, with even the eye-like creatures in tow as silent guardians. Odon would go back to being the monster they were in order to ward off the evil that afflicts child MC, after all, how could pain approach child MC, in Odon's even scarier presence?

REMIEL

Remiel had a lonely childhood and not exactly by choice. As a half angel-half nephilim, many angels, the most conservative ones, have always seen Remiel as a sin, an impure angel not worthy of being called such and having always been very literal-minded, despite the reassurances from her mother Azrael and her father Death, Remiel could never help but see such statements as the truth, because after all they weren't entirely wrong, she wasn't a pure celestial being, she have learned to live with it, however Remiel would see child MC's situation as unfair, being different. Since both child MC and Remiel are often gloomy and somber, they could actually be mistaken for related. As an angel of death, Remiel would frequently face issues such as depression and negative feelings, therefore she would be quite capable of making child MC feel better, having comforted several human souls in the past. One thing that child MC would appreciate before going to sleep would be, for example, having Remiel embrace them with her wings while softly humming them a lullaby that her mother Azrael used to sing to her when she was a child

NATHANIEL

Nathaniel, although he has always been a quiet angel even as a child, who let himself be carried away by the course of events, has always felt as if he was not in control of his actions, as if his destiny was in the hands of someone superior who controlled his every move and emotional response. As an extremely patient angel, caring for and managing a child MC with depression or ptsd would not necessarily be a problem, if anything a challenge, which Nathaniel would not intend to give up or abandon for any reason. Nathaniel would try to teach child MC how to let non-constructive criticism and insults slide over them, using failures as material to grow and improve, killing with kindness when possible those who show resentment towards them for no reason. Nathaniel is chill, but when annoyed he would be quite scary, so people would hardly bother child MC in his presence, also Nathaniel would show child MC the wonders of the world, trying to rekindle the spark of life in them. Nathaniel would always be child MC's guide

URIEL

Uriel's childhood was characterized by continuous attempts on her part to show her worth of becoming a warrior angel and by seeking compliments to feel valid, no matter how many times she fell and felt inadequate, she always got up in order to reach her goals and Uriel would like to help child MC achieve their dream whatever it may be, however she's aware that first they should be motivated enough and that currently it would be too soon. Uriel would see child MC being a victim of bullying as a real violation of justice and as an angel who represents it, she would go straight to the bullies, making them regret and reconsider every choice in their life and she would force them to apologize to child MC personally, with the threat of them going to hell if they act bad again or even worse, even if they ended up in heaven, then they would have to deal with Uriel. Uriel would act as child MC's shield and sword, promising that when they're unable to fight, she will protect them, for as long as they need, that she'll be the rock on which they can lean when they don't feel well

(also here's a small bonus of some OCs reaction to child MC fighting back against a bully):

[nivisdreaming]

Kinktober Day 1: Size - Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

WC: 1.1k

CW: Size play, predator/prey dynamics, established relationship, piv penetration, no protection, creampie, teasing, praise, sub!reader, dom!miguel, subspace implied, reader gets fucked so good she passes out, aftercare is included

Notes: first time writing for miguel? pog? also welcome to kinktober everyone its gonna get freaky >:)

Miguel is constantly pinning you to things. He’s not even doing it on purpose necessarily, he’s just so big.

It’s not his fault that he’ll reach for something over your head, or try to scooch behind you in the kitchen or hallway, and all of a sudden you’re pushed against the nearest surface being towered over by a 6’9 spider hybrid.

What is his fault is how he abuses it once he realizes how flustered it makes it. He’s always been very perceptive when it came to you. He knows how your cheeks flush red with embarrassment, how your breath hitches, and your thighs squeeze together in need, right as you look upward to view him caging you in. It always gives a sickening ego boost. You’re just so small compared to him. Breakable. Fragile. Delicate. Delicious.

He starts subtlety. Sneaking behind you when you’re making morning coffee, hovering behind when you work at your desk, and of course, getting you down on your knees for him whenever possible. It doesn’t take long to escalate however, coming to a head one night before he is set to attend a Spider Society gala with you as his plus one.

You slide the dress up your body carefully, allowing the snug material to cling tight around your breasts in its strapless style. You straighten it out and peered over your shoulder to call, “Miggy? Can you come zip me up please?”

You adjust your hair and makeup in the mirror as you listen to his lumbering footsteps, smiling when he appears behind you, his eyes tracing over your curves in the reflection. He takes a step closer, and the way his shoulders dwarf yours causes your breath to hitch. He slides a hand up your side and another comes to rest on the back of your neck. You open your mouth to make the request again, but the air is knocked out of you as he pushes forwards, pinning you firmly to the floor-length mirror without looking away from his scanning of your body.

“Sweet, tiny little thing. You’re so easy to push around, aren’t you, mi princesa?” He pushes his hips forward to rut against your ass, and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head from the combo of his growling tone and his hot erection against you. He leans down to nip at your earlobe before muttering, “I know you love how much bigger than you I am. Does it make you feel all funny? To know how I could wreck you, how I could turn you into my cowering prey, stuck underneath me? It makes your brain all fuzzy. And it makes your cunt dripping wet.” He uses the hand on your side to tug up the dress, exposing your bare ass. He scoffs at the lewdity and gives one of the round globes a spank, forcing a whimper from you.

You watch him in the mirror as he blocks you in on all sides while running a finger down to your folds, teasingly sliding it against your entrance before bringing it to his month to suck off the slick. He hums in approval and moves his arms to sit on either side of your head, leaving you boxed in but free to move against him.

“Spin around. I wanna look you in the eyes while I stretch your tight pussy to it’s breaking point, and if I see you look away I will make sure neither of us sees this event tonight.”

You gulp and slowly twirl around, having to crane your neck to meet his eyes even as he leers down at you. He places a hand over yours and coaxes it to the front of his crotch, using you to squeeze at his bulge before instructing you to undo the zipper and pull him out. You obey without hesitation, allowing him to tug down the top of your dress and reveal your tits as you do. His cock springs eagerly from its confines, precum already leaking from the tip that has flushed a deep purple.

Instinctively you try to drop down to your knees, your clouded headspace demanding that you needed to gag around him as soon as possible, but he manhandles you back up and off the ground with your wrists above your head and legs wrapped around his slutty waist. The rough force has you moaning softly, eyes already glazed over despite the lack of direct stimulation. It makes him chuckle darkly.

He lines his tip up with your entrance and gives no warning before sliding in with a single thrust. The slick dripping down your thighs is plenty of lube as he begins an earth-shattering pace, hips slamming into yours and tip kissing your cervix with every thrust. He leans down and vigorously sucks and bites around your breasts, littering them with hickeys while you cry on his cock, sobbing hysterically from pleasure.

He pulls away from his marking to take in your appearance, at the fat globs of tears gathering on your cheeks make his hips stutter and his abs tense. “God, princesa, feels so good to corrupt you like this,” he switches his grip from your hip to your tummy so he can thumb at your clit, “So ruined for me. Molded this tiny cunt to my dick, so it’s perfect just for me.” You whimper at the praise, jaw dropping open and tongue lolling out as he slides against the spongey spot inside you and rubs fast circles around your bundle of nerves.

“That’s it, my good little girl. So delicate, just gotta take care of you by breaking that poor little brain every once and awhile. Go ahead sweet thing, cum on me, show me how good little prey thank the predators.” His words send you spinning into the abyss, everything in your body pulling taunt and then snapping back as your vision goes from white to black and suddenly you’re so light and floaty that you can’t feel the way you soak Miguel’s cock, nor the way he cums deep inside you as your walls milk him dry. You don’t feel him carry you to the bed, or feel him drag the damp cloth between your legs. You don’t feel how he kisses both your cheeks in hopes of getting your eyes to flutter open, to no avail.

What you do feel is when he pulls your trembling body against his broad chest, rubbing up and down on your arms softly and whispering to you. “Mi amor, you gotta come back to me now. Open up those eyes for me. You did so good for me baby, surprised you made it as long as you did without passing out on my dick. C’mon, wakey wakey corazón.” His words are encouragement enough to float back downwards, settling into his touch until you have enough strength to pull your eyelids open and peer up at him with large doe-eyes. “Aw, welcome back little girl. Te amo.”

[bunnis-monsters]

Ahh your bee hybrids are making me think of the dynamics of the bulls and cows ♡♡ So doting and loving~ Soft and fuzzy!

I keep thinking about a nearby wasp or hornet colony getting a little jealous hearing about such a pretty queen - they're so big and scary..

Just rambly thoughts hehe, enjoy your day/night~

Let’s just say that you had a good relationship with the wasp hybrids before becoming the queen of the bee hybrids. You may have even had a fling with one or two, and they told the others.

For a while they watched on in jealousy, wanting you for themselves, until some got brave.

A few wasps get in and mate with the queen, filling you with their own eggs. It’s different than mating with the bees, they fuck and stuff you, leaving you with bite marks and hickeys… it feels so good…

The bee hybrids are devastated when they find out and aren’t sure what to do… while they hate the idea of sharing you, they’d also prefer to not go to war with the wasp hybrids. Hive vs Hive won’t end well, and your safety is their top priority.

So they find the wasps responsible and execute them… but you don’t really like that. Now the bees have made their beloved queen sad, and their next suggestion only angers you further.

They want to just kill the eggs, but that upsets you! They’re your eggs, and you get to decide if you carry them or not! The bees are at a loss. While killing them isn’t allowed by you, they can’t stay in the bee hive, that’s dangerous. Wasps are aggressive and they’re afraid they’ll hurt your bee hybrid babies.

The wasps send an ambassador, who says the other hive will go to war with them for the queen… but they offer a compromise.

Since both hives love you and neither of them wants to suffer through a war, they suggest sharing you.

So they hesitantly accept the offer to share their queen, the only stipulation being that they have more access to her and their eggs are the priority. The wasps don’t really plan on obeying that rule, but they agree because god they want you so bad.

Now imagine being surrounded by the aggressive and rough wasp hybrids that are deliciously rough on your fat cunt while you’re also being worshipped and adored by the bee hybrids who mate with you however you please…

You’d spend your days going from one hive to another, being given more and more love and affection as both hives try to stay in your favor and possibly convince you to stay with them forever.

They’re both very possessive species, and aggressive when it comes to their hive and queen. Who knows how long this treaty will last.

This scenario could be explored more if anyone’s interested.

I think the bees would usually not do this, but with the added lore that the queen was once friendly with the wasps and they are more desperate to have her means the bees would rather share than potentially lose to war. In their minds they can’t comprehend that the wasps would never hurt you, they think that they will take out the entire hive along with you.

[beetlejuicyy]

criston cole is such a female-experience coded character and it is exactly why he is hated so much hear me out

his whole character is built around the idea that rhaenyra seduced him, had taken his dignity and made him feel like her whore. his vow and his duty are close enough to the idea of women's purity and value. you were sullied, you have to marry the man that devalued you, otherwise you are spoiled and unworthy.

on top of that, his identity as a knight, as kingsguard means he is submissive. he is not seen having a lot of opinions or plans to how things are done, the big guys in the council decide and he has to obey to their orders.

on top of that, when he does act at last, it's portrayed in the form of scheming, behind the backs of people, and it's mostly attributed to his sentimental nature, to his inability to think straight, be logical because of his personal feelings. that's how women have been portrayed for centuries.

another thing that makes his character harder to grasp is the choice to have the same actor play the pre-timeskip and past-timeskip criston. 20 years have passed and yet people see him as the same person who refused to be rhaenyra's whore but now he is hypocritical because he is alicent's whore. 20 years have passed and, even if you can't see it on his face, he's bound to have changed too.

in his relationship with alicent he doesn't talk as much. he is obedient, she's the one in charge. she gets to say when and how things happen, he is just at her service.

his entire character is build up to revolve around rhenyra, like women's lives are supposed to revolve around men. if he refuses to acknowledge his status in his youth he is no longer allowed to later (after 20 years mind you) find some sort of comfort in another master. it's like saying "if you say you hate the system why take part in it"?

his pent up rage and hatred is evil, because what happened to him was behind closed doors where no one saw or heard of it. because if they knew of it he would lose everything, exactly the way women have often refrained from talking about their condition in fear of being villainized themselves. in the meantime, the one in power will keep their dignity and spotless reputation like rhaenyra is not even held accountable for having bastards pushed forward as heirs, not to mention the fling she had with criston.

this rant is in no way trying to portray criston cole as a saint or a good guy or trying to justify his behaviour. this is actually the problem with hotd, the effort to draw a line between the good guys and bad guys. have it be either balck or white. it's not, it can't be. you either have complex, morally grey characters with flaws and mistakes or you go watch marvel or something. even there villains are more humanized than in this petty effort of righteousness.

LE: thank you everyone who mentioned the aspect of criston being a man of colour from dorne and the power dynamic between a royal and a lower born who fought his way into the world! this rant was written in a rush and while i couldn't express the latter as eloquently as most of you in the tags/comments, i completely overlooked the former. i love looking through everyone's tags and comments and seeing your takes. as @jazzyclarinet pointed out in the comments, seeing criston's character in this light does not erase or diminish the injustice other women in the story experience.

on another note, i feel like part of the blame is on the way hbo marketed the season with the pressure to pick a side. however, i think what we've been lacking as a society in the post covid years is actual unbiased analysis of art. swallowing up content without any question and making said content a personality trait is harmful. as i said, i don't like criston as a character, but i can make these points about him simply because i watch the show critically and i don't blindly defend a character while trashing another.

[inkykeiji]

⋆₊˚⊹♡ 𝐡𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐧 + 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

characters: vox, val, alastor, lucifer warnings: implied smut in some; 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink (+ papi for val), toxic relationships, pet/master dynamic (for alastor), reader is a bit of a brat with vox, implied drugging the night before (val), praise + pet names, fem!reader, reader is carried in val’s words: 2.7k

₊˚⊹ 𝐯𝐨𝐱 ⊹˚₊

You love mornings with your Daddy—truly, you do; love waking up next to him, slow and soft as his fingertips outline your features; love eating breakfast with him, feet kicking back and forth on one of the barstools as he prepares something simple for the two of you, know that he had to pull teeth to get the mornings off of work so he could spend them with you, getting you ready for the day and seeing you off—but there is one part, right at the very end, that you absolutely despise. 

Like everything with Vox, dental hygiene is a meticulous procedure, a rigorous routine with a set of immutable steps to be followed in the exact order Vox has laid them out in—carved into concrete, set in stone.

And, like everything else with Vox, no one knows how to perform them correctly except for him.

Still, it isn’t like you ever make it easy for him.

What else could he expect from his little troublemaker, really?

“Open up.” 

A thumb and a forefinger clamp down on the hinges of your jaw, palm wreathed around your chin, and squeeze, popping your mouth open with practiced efficiency.

“Daddy,” the word comes out as a stringy whine, slightly garbled, face crumpling in petulance. “Dun wanna.” 

Jerking a little in his grasp, you try to pull away from the advancing toothbrush slathered with translucent teal gel, and Vox clicks his tongue. 

“And I don’t care,” he says simply, fingers flexing in warning. “Good little girls need to brush their teeth—especially if they’ve eaten two bowls of sugary cereal for breakfast.” 

“But—”

Vox pulls back, face flattened into something serious. “Do you want cavities eating holes in your teeth?” 

“No—”

“Didn’t think so. Now hold still and let Daddy do this for you, yeah?” 

A groan vibrates on the back of your tongue, but your body goes pliant in his grasp, chin leaning into his pillowy palm.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs to himself, a small smug smile on his face.

Warmth blossoms in your chest, swells your lungs and stretches your ribs as you droop a little more beneath his praise and he chuckles, a fond little melody playing on his tongue, grip tightening infinitesimally. 

And he’s so precise with it all, maneuvers painstakingly perfect as he tilts your head one way, then the other, sure to scrub each tooth thoroughly, bristles scouring in little circular motions as he cleanses.

“Aaaah,” he hums, mimicking the action as he pries his mouth open wider, another praise falling from his lips as you instantly obey, allowing him to reach the molars at the very back of your mouth—brushing on top, on either side, behind, then on top again. 

“Tongue out.” 

Another whine sticks in your throat, brows pushing together and crinkling your forehead, open mouth downturned in a frown with a slight shake of your head, struggling against his hold.

“Come, now,” Vox chastises, but his voice is hard, fortified with a subtle threat. “You were doing so well for me—don’t start acting up, Daddy’s almost done.” 

His gaze holds yours steadily, a single eyebrow raising in question—are you really going to test me?—and you cave, again.

Reluctantly, your tongue unfurls from your mouth, face still scrunched in irritation as he scrapes the bristles across the muscle, working up a healthy lather, refusing to cease until that telltale disgruntled whine claws at your throat, evoking another one of those patronizing little chuckles.

“Alright, alright,” he’s pacifying as he tips a glass to your lips, a palm cupped protectively beneath your chin. “Rinse.” 

And, Christ, he loves how fucking obedient you are, even as the urge to misbehave bubbles behind your ribs, lips set in a deep pout as you follow his instructions, swishing a mouthful of water between your cheeks, waiting perfect and patient for his next order. 

“Spit.”

Oh, so compliant, so disciplined you are as you instantly spew blue liquid down the drain, a fierce sense of pride, of ownership, igniting deep within his soul, blazing bright and hot and strong, reflected in the amplified glowing of his eyes.

Your features are still scrunched up in a cute little pout, glaring at him through your lashes, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” A thumb runs along your forehead, attempting to iron out the crease between your brows in a gentle caress.

“It was awful.” 

“Fucking brat.” 

And he just can’t help but laugh out the word, the sting the insult should bring instantly negated by the tender affection it’s smothered in, turned soft and melty on his tongue.

No, you never make such endeavours painless for him, but you do always make them interesting, and for that, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

₊˚⊹ 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐨 ⊹˚₊

It’s late in the afternoon when Val decides it’s time to get up, deep crimson light spilling through the narrow gaps in his thick curtains and painting thin, long strokes across the shag carpet.

He doesn’t bother formally waking you as two of his hands scoop you from the nest of silk and cradle you to his body, chuckling out a coo as you automatically snuggle into his chest, legs latching around his waist. 

The haze of sleep still hangs heavy in your skull, a soft protest grumbled into his skin as he carries you somewhere, lids staying firmly glued shut, body beginning to melt into his again as the bliss of unconsciousness entices you with promises of whimsical dreams and relief from your aching muscles. 

Cold marble stings your bare thighs suddenly, forcing a small jolt through your form, a soft hiss exhaled from between your teeth.

“I know, I know, it’s cold,” Val pacifies, his voice a pleasant fog curling around your cheeks as he leans around you, tinkering with something.  

“Papi,” you whimper, reaching blindly for him, lethargic head falling forward, forehead pressed tightly to his sternum.

“Mmm, I’m here,” he murmurs distractedly, two of his hands still wrapped firmly around your hips as the other set busy themselves with uncapping a tube of toothpaste.

“Wanna go back to bed,” you slur out in a whine, nose nuzzling into his chest, fruitlessly looking for a place to rest your head, dense drowsiness curling the edges of your mind.

“But it’s time to get up, princesa,” he chides gently, a finger tracing the curve of your cheek. “You’ve been asleep for fourteen hours.” 

“M’still tired.” 

A hum of contemplation vibrates at the back of his tongue as a hand twines around your jaw, examining your face this way, then that, before tilting your chin up.

“Maybe I gave you a little too much last night,” he muses to himself through a dark snicker. “It’s kinda cute that you’re still this fucked up, though. Can’t even open your eyes for me, can you?” 

And you try, really, you do, attempting to heft your leaden lids, features screwing up cutely with the immense effort, and Val coos again, as if your intoxication is so pathetically precious—poor little girl can barely handle her Daddy’s drugs! How sweet.

“Well, that’s okay,” he purrs, first pair of hands slipping further beneath his dress shirt—a makeshift nightgown, his favourite nightgown on you—and tugging you closer to the counter’s edge. “You don’t have to worry your pretty little head about anything; Papi will do it for you.” 

A sound of indignation sticks in your throat as you finally pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh light of the bathroom, bleary gaze fixed on the sparkly pink toothbrush in one of his hands, face rumpling into a pout. 

Your lips press into a tight, firm line, sealing your mouth against the rapidly advancing utensil as your eyes slip shut again, weighted with narcotic-laced exhaustion, head shaking in messy little motions.

“C’mon, be co-operative,” the points of his nails dig into your skin, hard enough to leave superficial indents—a warning. “Don’t upset Daddy this early in the day, baby.” 

Wrenching your eyes open again, your nose twitches with a sniffle, chin beginning to quiver.

“But—But—Do I have to?”

“Yes, you have to,” he says, but his voice trembles with the effort to stay calm, to stay pleasant. “Your mouth is very dirty from last night, and it needs to be cleaned.”

A thick torrent of tears rush to cloud your vision, sudden and stinging, a hiccup stuttering your chest. The hand curved around your jaw tightens, yanking your face toward his own, foreheads knocking together.

“Now, open, before I make you open.”

Your jaw falls slack, a slave to his orders, unable to disobey a direct demand from its owner, and Val purrs, something wicked unravelling on his face, smile stretched sharp and sleazy from edge to edge, the glow in his eyes flaring with your instant compliance.

“Good girl.”

₊˚⊹ 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 ⊹˚₊

Alastor, you’ve come to learn, has a plethora of odd regimes; stringently scheduled customs that are non-negotiable, that extend to you, including brushing your teeth. 

It’s become routine, now—habitual, as most things with Alastor are—and your days no longer feel right without it; weird, off, incomplete. 

Because it’s become something of a comfort; something so simple, yet so intimate, something calming and rewarding, something to look forward to—a moment shared between the two of you, twice a day, once at the beginning, and once at the end. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you try tell him, the first time he insists on doing it, trying desperately to look over your shoulder as he ushers you into his ensuite.

“Nonsense!” he waves a hand in dismissal. “It isn’t a problem at all. Now, sit.” 

“Alastor—”

“Sit.” 

With a tiny frown, you perch gingerly on the edge of the bathtub, fingers curling around the rim.

“I’m serious,” you murmur, teeth nibbling superficially at the skin of your lip, wary eyes watching as he flits with practiced ease around the bathroom, a twinge of confusion settling in your chest, something akin to shame sitting thick and bitter on the back of your tongue. “I can do it myself…” 

“I know you can,” he replies simply, focused on depositing a strip of white toothpaste on your toothbrush. 

“Then…” you blink up at him, watching him advance with wide eyes, shoulders shrinking as he blankets you in his shadow. “Why are you doing it for me?” 

Irritation twitches at the edges of his grin, Alastor exhaling a controlled sigh.

“Because,” he begins, keeping his voice light, taking your chin between his index finger and thumb. “A good Master takes proper care of his pet.” 

His grip strengthens, tilting your face up further, his form looming over your own as you sit, vulnerable and exposed, beneath his touch. Crimson eyes glow as they scour your face, his back bent at an uncomfortable angle as he practically curls around you, the scent of earth and cedar tinged with copper wafting across your face with his calm, even breaths. 

“Besides,” he continues, voice dropped an octave lower, his nose nearly nudging yours. “I couldn’t possibly trust you to do it adequately.” 

A cruel little chuckle plays on his tongue, as if the mere thought itself is preposterous, the sound stinging as it seeps into your cheeks, hot and full of spikes. 

“Now, open.” 

Instantly, your mouth falls agape, and Alastor’s smile stretches infinitesimally wider, a sharp glint flaring in his eyes.

“A good owner maintains their pet’s hygiene,” he explains as he works, gaze fixed intently on his actions, cleansing with a meticulous sort of vigilance. “Bathes them, grooms them, dresses them—performs all of the basic necessities a pet needs to appear presentable.”

His hand shifts slightly, angling your head to the side, and you follow easily, malleable in his grasp, his smile shimmering. 

“And I pride myself on taking very good care the things that belong to me.”

And, really, he does. Because Alastor doesn’t just brush your teeth with rigorous care, conscientiously certain to cleanse every dip and gap; he flosses them, too, with gentle hands and painstaking precision, then ensures you’ve rinsed with germ-killing, enamel-strengthening mouthwash for exactly forty-five seconds, counting uniformly and observing with large, unblinking eyes as you adhere to his every instruction, cheeks bulging with burning liquid, eyes squinting from the intensity, but never daring to blink, to glance away, to stop at all. 

“Look at you,” he purrs after you’ve spit down the drain, gazing back up at him with a sort of desperate devotion—demented, devious, damned to his hell—syrupy condescension dripping from his teeth. “So well behaved for me, aren’t you?”  

A palm cups your jaw, his thumb running across your cheek in rhythmic strokes, the tip of his claw caressing your skin with just enough pressure to leave behind shallow scratches. 

“What, hoping Master will give you a treat for being so obedient?” 

“No, Sir,” you whimper out, voice gone dreamy as you nuzzle into his hand. “You taking such good care of me is more than enough.” 

Something sinister oozes into his face, something that contorts his smile and corrodes his eyes, leaving behind nothing but raw hunger, like he’s about to devour you whole, pops of static fizzing thickly in his voice. 

“That’s my good girl.” 

₊˚⊹ 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 ⊹˚₊

Everything hurts, muscles stiff and aching and full of sand, your motions clumsy and cumbersome as you attempt to brush your teeth, joints creaking with every slight shift.

Fatigue blurs the edges of your eyes, your vision fading out of focus again, mind gone fuzzy as you try your best to concentrate on your movements—up, down, all around, repeat—features screwing up in a wince as you catch the harsh bristles on your gums, again. 

“You’re making a bit of a mess, sleepyhead,” Lucifer’s tender chuckle pulls you from your foggy stupor, a quiet hum vibrating in your throat as you look over at him in question, the gesture lethargic and delayed. 

“You’ve got some—Here,” he says softly, hands curling around your shoulders and turning you to face him, then tilting your chin up. “May I?”

Another affirmative sounds on the back of your tongue and Lucifer uses his thumb to carefully clean the foaming paste collecting at the corners of your mouth, then catching a slow dribble streaming down your chin with a deft knuckle. 

A frown mars his face, his forehead creasing beneath the strain, his other hand stroking your shoulder as worried eyes search your face, slow and careful.

“Is everything okay, sweetheart?” he asks. “You’re really struggling to brush your teeth.”

“Jus—really tired,” you mumble through the bubbles in your mouth, Lucifer skillfully catching another trickle of watery paste, concern tugging at the corners of his lips, frown deepening.

“Do you want me to do it for you?” 

Sleepy eyes blink up at him, slow and sluggish, your hazy mind taking a moment to process the question.

“Mhmm,” you finally nod, hand loosening the instant his fingers skim yours, allowing him to gently uncurl your grip from around the base of your toothbrush, his own effortlessly taking its place. 

“Alright, alright, Daddy will help you,” he’s pacifying in a murmur, but his gaze has turned melty, glow dimmed and pupils gaping, lids heavy with love. “Poor thing…Last night was a long night for you, huh?” 

“S’a lot,” you confirm in a messy mumble, lids drooping heavily with the weight of exhaustion.

“Yeah?” his thumb rubs loving little circles into your jaw as he works, gaze trained on his task. “Was Daddy a little too rough with you?” 

The question is uttered out tenderly, full of sympathy and care, his brow furrowing as his eyes flit back to yours, searching for veracity in your pupils.

“Maybe I should be a bit gentler next—”

“No!” you cough around the refusal, puffy lids snapping open suddenly, the unexpected vehemency causing Lucifer to flinch.

“No?” he laughs, and it’s warm with affection, his features, hard with worry, mollifying beneath fondness, amorous amusement twinkling daintily in his eyes. 

“No,” you whine out with a tiny pout, head shaking a little in his grasp. “Please.”

“Okay,” the pad of his thumb runs along your cheek, his stare trailing after it. “If nothing else, at least Daddy will always be there to take care of you the morning after.”