#or i can simply wear something that has never appeared in canon but is close enough

[saltnsugarbear]

you're the only one who makes me- every time we- (18+)

summary: just some foundational building for this au (headcanons)

title from: "Wildflower" by 5 Seconds of Summer

word count: 1.4k

content warnings: MDNI!!! talks of cam work, allusions to a break-in, casual affection between friends, allusions to sexual fantasies

side note: everyone go kiss aw-live for giving me more filthy ideas on this au <3

- I think we've decided Lip hosts his cam streams in the top floor of the Alibi Room (we being me and Olive)

- it's simply the place where he would have the most privacy and Veronica would probably be chill about it and be like get your bag (she ran cam shows??? so she's like fuck yeah okay king)

- I've just remembered she did cam shows, hell yeah actually she's like get your bag king here are some tips and shit.

- V probably helps set him up with a nice camera, gives him a set of keys to get into the bar and upstairs, helps him spruce the place up, make it look nice for the streams

- this takes place during when he works at Patsy's, and is 100% diverging from canon

- I don't think he's entirely obnoxious about how attractive he is but he has some sort of inkling? like he's the smallest bit cocky about his appearance around his partners just because they're kind of like,,,, they short circuit sometimes

- so he has the idea that he's attractive enough so he's like fuck it why not try?

- and I mean he's got a mouth on him so he can definitely say some shit that'll get people hot and bothered

- so he figures doing cam shows is worth a shot and will help bring in some money on the side

- you work at Patsy's Pies as a waiter, dressed in the white tank top and shorts that have become your uniforms

- you're one of Fiona's most trusted and therefore are very close with her

- one day Fi asks you to go out but day of she asks if you can swing by her place, asking you to bring an item of clothing with you because she has the perfect outfit planned

- so you take the L to the nearest station to her and make it to her house in no time

- you're a little surprised the Gallaghers have an unlocked door policy given they live in Southside Chicago but oh well, Fiona assures you they're prepped for anything (she even shows you The Bat)

"It's unlocked!!" You hear from behind the door. The voice sounds much farther than just a door between the both of you. True to the statement, the door gives way when you turn the doorknob.

The mudroom your greeted with is cramped, boots and shoes littering the floor and coats crammed onto different hooks.

"Kitchen!" You can hear Fiona's voice clearer now. You duck out of the mudroom, taking in the cluttered living room that leads to the dining room.

Fiona pops her head out from the doorframe and gives you a bright smile. "You made it!"

"I said I would, didn't I?" You adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder. Fiona shrugs as you walk into the kitchen. Her hair is up, and she's got a steaming mug in her hands.

"You brought it, right?" Her eyes are bright as she looks at you. You nod, opening the bag to pull out the corseted top she asked you to bring. It was something you had been gifted and never planned on wearing yourself, so you offered it to Fiona happily.

Her eyes light up when she sees it. Fiona sets her mug down before she walks over to you, taking the top out of your hands. You watch as she fingers the material, taking it in.

"Thank you," Fiona is quick to wrap her arms around your shoulders, bringing you into a fierce hug.

"'S no problem." You tell her, squeezing her tight before she let's go.

"Gonna go change, and then we can get ready together!" Fiona gives you a soft kiss to your cheek as she departs. You've become used to Fiona's casual affections, watching how she gave the same affection to her siblings in the restaurant. "Help yourself to some coffee."

You watch as Fiona goes up the stairs, disappearing behind the wall. You listen to her walking upstairs before you set your bag on the counter and search for a mug.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs comes sooner than you anticipated Fiona would be.

"Hey Fi," You call over your shoulder. "Where uh- where do you keep the clean mugs?"

The footsteps stop short, and you turn around to look at Fiona. "Left cabinet."

It is not Fiona who speaks, and you think you might break your neck with how quickly you finish your turn. Lip stands on the third step.

Shirtless.

The sight makes your brain pause. Your eyes widen slightly, taking in every detail you can process. What jumps out at you the most is the outline of a triangle on his left pec.

"I- Um-" You're struggling to find any words.

"Sorry, didn't think anyone else would be here other than Fiona." Lip takes the last few steps down and walks to the laundry basket on top of the washing machine. Your eyes follow him as he crosses the room and grabs the first shirt he can get his hands on.

You watch silently as his muscles move when he lifts the shirt over his head. You quickly avert your gaze when he tugs it over his chest.

"Which, uh- which cabinet did you say?" The image of the ink triangle has thoroughly derailed any thoughts you might have had.

"Far left." Lip's voice is curt.

You make your way to the counter, leaning against it to open the far left cabinet door. True to his word, there sit mix-matched coffee mugs.

"Pass me one?" Lip's voice is closer and you can feel his shoulder against yours as you grab the first mug. You softly place the first mug on the counter, exchanging it to your other hand to pass it to Lip. His fingers are warm where they graze over yours when he takes the cup. You're quick to grab your own, turning to push yourself against the counter behind you.

After he's filled the first mug, he passes it to you on the counter and holds his hand out for the empty when you've got grasped between both your hands. You're almost too quick to pass him the mug, nearly pushing it into his hands.

You take the first one, bringing it close to your chest. Being this close to Lip makes your brain go blank like an etch-a-sketch.

"Cream, sugar?" Lip asks as he places the pot back against the machine.

"Uh, both." You say, setting your cup on the counter.

Lip nods as he opens the fridge, grabbing the gallon of milk from the fridge.

"Sugar's behind you.." Lip mutters coming up beside you and reaching around you. You can't help but freeze, holding your breath until Lip is out of your space.

He grabs two spoons from the drying rack on one side of the sink, offering you one of them.

You take it from his hand, your fingertips brushing against his knuckles

You can feel his eyes on you as you start taking spoonfuls out of the container. The huff he lets out through his nose makes you glance at him, watching as he rubs softly at the knick on his cheek.

"Make your coffee.." You mutter, bumping your shoulder into his.

Lip huffs, turning back to his cup. He takes the sugar from your hand, trading you the milk for it.

As you mix the milk and sugar into your coffee, you can't help but zone out.

The inked triangle you saw on Lip's chest makes an appearance in you fantasies that night. And the few nights after that, when you try to get yourself off.

Of course, such a simple thing was to haunt your mind.

It was Lip Gallagher, after all.

- Lip is not the soft and sweet camboy no no

- he is the mean, condescending camboy

- the camboy who talks you through it, degrades you while fucking himself into his own fleshlight in his hand

- the camboy who teases you and coaxes you and says if you cum before he tells you to he won't let you cum again for a week

- safe to say he builds quite the desperate fan base. men, women, and people alike clock in to watch his streams, showering him in tips easily, giving him enough money in one stream to pay rent

- sometimes he's an extra tease on stream, using his third one for the week to just talk you through it, not even thinking about his own pleasure as he coaxes you through your own release

- that's all for now

- gotta wait for the big show for more thoughts!!!

[butchlifeguard]

small issue w nami is that i havent worn a skirt in 2 years and blue jeans in 3

[halflifebutawesome]

BEHOLD! FOR THE SECOND TIME, THE GBVRAI LINEUP! now with another weird old dude!

waves my hands around vaguely I wanted to make a nicer looking lineup and more coherent post actually explaining the au. I've now made 2 gbvrai lineups but never a plain old hlvrai lineup. Whatever.

There's a complete AU explanation and individual character profiles (?) under the cut! check it out! ASK ME ABOUT IT !!! SMILES!!!!!

The basic gist of this au is that the science team, are a group of ghost hunting paranormal researchers. The Ghostbusters. You mightve heard of them. This isn't a 1 for 1 au where certain characters take the role of others, it's more just. What if the science team existed in the Ghostbusters universe. They're just the Ghostbusters now.

On a particularly odd case, they bust a ghost that seems... off. It's sentient, it's talking back, and it's psychokinetic energy is off the charts.

Thinking nothing of it, they return to the firehouse and prep the trap for containment disposal. Gordon's the new guy, so he's the unlucky dude who's been assigned the job of disposing of the traps. All the while the ghost will NOT shut up. It's weirdly powerful and seems mostly unbothered. It's name is Benry, and he's a little freak.

the ghost containment unit has been unstable for a while, overfilled with ghosts, but they have to dispose of Benry somehow, so they go ahead with it.

In this AU I'm kind of combining the Resonance Cascade with the Manhattan Crossrip (the Manhattan crossrip is the big scary ghost event that happens at the end of GB1). Basically what happens is that Benrys weirdly powerful ghostly energy, combined with an unstable ghost containment unit, tears a big rip in the fabric between the ghost realm and ours, letting all sorts of ghouls and specters free.

Imagine the Resonance Cascade, with all the aliens getting out and ravaging Black Mesa, but it's a bunch of ghosts getting out and ravaging New York. Gordon and the rest of the team have to fight their way through the ghost filled streets of NYC, and close the crossrip.

Heres some closeups and more individual info/thoughts for the gang!!

GORDON FREEMAN! The new guy. Again, this is less a direct 1 for 1 swap au kind of deal, and more just putting these guys in situations. Gordon's HEV suit, tho, I wanna talk about.

In Ghostbusters canon, they DO have a weird fucked up hazard suit. It first appears in the TRGB episode "Xmas Marks The Spot", where Egon uses it to travel into the ghost realm. I know it makes another appearance in the comics, in a way that's more HEV-esque, but I never finished the comics so idk. It's real tho.

I imagine here that the ghost containment unit is more like the reactor in half life, where it's hazardous to be around for too long, probably bcos of like. I don't know. Concentrated psychokinetic energy. Sure. In any case he needs to wear the HEV to use the containment unit.

My design here is taking the chest piece, helmet, gloves and belts and modifying them to look a little more HEV-esque.

Bennyyyy. Benrey benry beny. He's a ghost, as far as they can tell. It would be more appropriate to call him an entity of sorts.

He's not a ghost simply for the fact that he wasn't ever human. He wasn't ever a living person that died. He's some pure, really powerful, concentrate entity/being that leaked through from the ghost realm. He looks like. A guy, for the most part, but he's a mimic. Something pretending to be human. He's been around for a while, and has settled into this form. He's mostly corporeal, but can phase in and out as he pleases (noclipping) Switching from corporeal/incorporeal when it's funny.

He met Tommy when they were both a lot younger, Benry being fresh out of the ghost realm, and have been bestfriends ever since. ☝️ my au my weirdly specific tommybenny dynamic. Dw about it

TOMMY & SUNKIST!!!! Tommy has grown up around ghosts his whole life, and is pretty in-tune with them. This is proven with his bond to Sunkist, who's decidedly not a real dog, and his longtime friendship with Benry.

I gave him the goggles cos. Tommy's my fave and Ray's my fave and I think they're fun. Also cos if it WAS a 1 to 1 swap I would def have Tommy as Ray. Anyway. He's been a part of the Ghostbusters since he was little, like I said he grew up with them and around them. He's really knowledgeable about ghost types and physics. He knows all the ghost rules.

Sunkist isn't like. His dead childhood dog cos that seems. Kind of sad. Instead she's kind of a church Grimm or hell hound. An entity taking the form of a big huge dog that Tommy befriended when he was a kid, and has now kind of bonded to him. She's pretty corporeal as far as ghosts go, and can interact w the physical environment pretty well.

DARNOLD ^^ my friend darnold. Darnolds not usually super involved in the actual ghostbusting, and prefers to stay behind. He's more of the research and tech kind of guy, he studies the readings and takes measurements.

He's interested in psychokinetic energy and ghost residue and all sorts of like. Ghost sciences. Why some people stay behind, why some people just seem to die and disappear, the properties of the ghost realm and the ghosts themselves. Corporeality and degradation of personhood the longer someone's been a ghost.

When the Resonance Crossrip happens, he opts to stay behind and observe the effects of the insane amounts of ghost energy on the corporeal world.

Hes also a transfer over from the ghost engineers! That's a fun thing for me. I love the ghost engineers idc frozen empire gave me everything I wanted

FORZEN. Forzen is... the same thing as Benry. A mimic, something taking the form of a normal ghost to blend in or hide in plain sight.

He came through with the Resonance Crossrip, but obviously like. He knew Benry before (we WERE bestfriends..). He's not as powerful, which is why he wasn't able to sneak through when Benry did. He's also not super corporeal. He can only interact with the physical world if he's exerting a LOT of energy. Prone to flickering in and out of vision.

Upon coming thru the Crossrip, he kind of just. Decided to hang around the firehouse. Didn't wanna go much further, for fear of being ghostbusted and sent back into the containment unit. The source is the last place they'd look for him!

Darnold, who's holed up in the firehouse, is more than delighted to meet a ghost who's sentient and willing to cooperate to do some tests and experimentation to get never before documented results. They bond and they're cutesit. ☝️ DARZEN WIN. hi splash 👋

Dr Coomer and Dr Bubby are two of the three original founders of the Ghostbusters! They've been around for a looooong time. They're also married obviously but that's like a given.

They helped found the Ghostbusters, having met in college while both were studying parapsychology. I imagine their like. Parapsychology -> Ghostbusters pipeline was very in line with how GB1 starts, where they used to work in an academic environment before getting kicked out and founding the GB.

They're also both. Psychic. Because frozen empire has once again given me everything. Coomers got some like. Idk something that lines up with his self awareness in HLVRAI, maybe prophecy? Vauge visions of the future? Bubby has pyrokinesis. Duh.

and... Mr. Coolatta..... Tommy's dad...he was one of the founders along w Coomer and Bubby and at some point he. Died. And is now a reeeally really powerful ghost. maybe from the exposure to ghost energy or smth?

Now hes got gman powers and just kinda hangs around. Pretty corporeal and solid and. Present. For lack of a better word. But he IS a dead guy. Used to be human.

This is why Tommy kind of grew up around ghosts and knows alot about them :) Mr Coolatta is pretty benevolent, and mostly just kind of spooky and fucked up.

And that's. About it? I believe?? PLEAAASE ASK ME QUESTIONS ABOUT THIS I have so many thoughts. I've been working on this for like 2 months now. Lol.

[hauntedhokage]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

Satoru Gojo/F!Reader

you should know better than to make a deal with Mei Mei, because everything comes at a price.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: drugging (aphrodisiac use), manipulation, non-consensual photos and recording, non-sexual slapping, uneven power dynamics, canon typical Mei Mei behavior, unprotected sex, breeding, yan!gojo

notes: some parts of this are intentionally a bit exaggerated because Gojo is a showman, if nothing else. This was also requested in uh....march so dear anon if you're still here I love you and I'm sorry.

There is always a price. Even in the jujutsu world, nothing just happened because of merit. It was all about who you knew and what you could give them in return for helping you out. Never simply receiving because you worked hard and earned it. 

Which is why you knew paying off Mei Mei to support your promotion to grade one was going to end badly. But she was your only in to get the promotion you knew you deserved quickly. Gojo had been an option, but his price was “be a good girl for twenty-four hours” and that would cost you way more than Mei Mei’s negotiated price of five hundred thousand yen just to consider putting you up for promotion. The higher ups hated Gojo anyway, your paperwork would just get “lost” and then you’d have to resubmit multiple times, and Gojo resubmitting paperwork would come at a cost that grew steeper with every re-submission. The cost of doing business with him.

But that came at the price of Mei Mei not being able to supervise your missions that would fall under consideration, the ultimate price being that your final mission for consideration would be performed with Satoru Gojo at your side - and he looked way too happy to be sitting next to you in the car. 

“Ijichi, there was nobody else?” 

“You ask that as if I make the assignments,” the supervisor retorts, and you sit back in your seat as he sighs. “You’ll live. We always persevere.”

“I am right here, y’know,” Gojo interjects, and you sigh as you lean into the door when he scoots closer. “It’ll be like I’m not even there.”

“Impossible,” you mumble, grateful that the car has slowed to a stop meaning you can get out before Gojo is pressed into your side. Personal space didn’t exist for you when he was around, that’s why you did your best to avoid him. 

Like he’s not even there, he says. 

But he certainly enjoyed standing right next to you as you walked through the closed down hotel in search of the curse. His presence was unsettling for a multitude of reasons, the biggest one being that you didn’t like how he looked at you. Always with a stupid little smirk on his face, like he knew something you didn’t, and then there was the fact that he always had something to say about your appearance. New haircut, wearing your jacket a certain way, he even clocked the one time you smelled like someone else’s cologne. You weren’t bold enough to assume that he wanted anything more than to say he’d fucked you, but the way he just kept trying after the first rejection was creepy. But he was Satoru Gojo - the strongest sorcerer - despite any complaints about his conduct, the higher ups wouldn’t be able to actually do anything. The perk of being Satoru Gojo, and the true downside to hating him. 

“Maybe the windows were mistaken?” you consider, poking your head into another open door and seeing nothing of interest. “I can’t sense any cursed energy besides ours. If this truly was a grade one or higher, we’d have felt it by now.”

“I’m not here, so you should feel it.”

“Are you telling me that you sense something I don’t?” His six eyes technique was annoying, he was annoying, so you keep walking even when he stops to go into a different open room. Maybe without him hovering your senses would be cleared enough to tell what he wasn’t telling you about. You just hoped you found it soon, because searching a hotel top to bottom with Gojo over your shoulder was not how you wanted to spend a Friday night. Maybe you’d call Nanami, see if he was going to leave that office building and at least get a drink? Or go to Yaga and see if there was any way you could get sent overseas to keep an ocean between you and Gojo at all times?

You hear movement behind you but pay it no mind, knowing that it was just Gojo pretending to not be near you. The cursed energy was the same, no residuals to be found, so you were going to let your guard stay dropped until you had a true reason to be on guard. Creaks in the floorboards of an old hotel wasn’t reason enough to stress yourself out. 

A rag covering your mouth while an arm snakes around your torso to pull you against a chest and back through a doorway was, however, cause for great distress. This wasn’t a curse attacking you, even high grade curses weren’t smart enough to stage an attack like this - this was Gojo. And he’s too strong for you to truly be able to fight back, the best you can do is kick and flail and hope that his infinity wouldn’t block it given your close proximity to him. Screaming was pointless, since sound wouldn’t escape the veil, but you do manage to wiggle free just as he kicks the door shut. 

The room is a bit blurry, your body feels warm and fuzzy when it certainly should not be, and every time you inhale you’re getting hints of pomegranate - not normal considering everywhere else in the hotel smelled like dust covered up with lemon cleaning solution. You have to get away from him, but there’s only one exit and he’s blocking it. 

“Well damn. It’s supposed to make you more receptive, guess I didn’t use enough,” he mumbles, tossing the rag to the side as you back away from him. “Or maybe there’s a delay? I really should have read the instructions closer.”

“W-what the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“To start, this hard on. I get like this whenever you’re around, y'know.” And he’s dropping his pants easily, exposing his lower half while he steps closer to you. “You’re just so cute. Even cuter when you make those angry faces at me, like I don’t know how badly you want me, too.” “You’re delusional.”

“And you’re dripping wet, aren’t you? Maybe it is working? Or do you just want me that badly?”

He’s wrong. You know he’s wrong because you did not have any desire for him in the slightest. Satoru Gojo was an annoyance who gave you the creeps, not someone you were attracted to at all. The bastard drugged you, after all, that’s why you had this reaction. 

“Why are you doing this?”

“You want that promotion, right?” His hand is stroking the bulge in his briefs, and your eyes struggle to stay focused on his as he smirks at you. “This is how you’ll get it. I was a little hurt that you didn’t ask me to put your name forward, though, I had our day all planned out.”

“That’s why I didn't ask you. Mei only wanted money, the lesser evil.”

“And isn’t it funny that paying Mei is how we ended up here?” And he’s got you boxed against the wall, long fingers carefully unbuttoning your jacket as he watches you process the implication of that statement. “Five million is a pretty steep price to take on such a bother that’s supervising an exorcism, but alone time with a sweet little thing like you is pretty priceless.”

And your jacket falls to the floor, your blouse coming undone shortly after while you stand frozen in place. Mei Mei sold you to the highest bidder, knowing damn well you paid her to get out of possibly needing to fuck Gojo to get promoted. Five million. What’s more concerning is that you’re sure Gojo would’ve paid more for this opportunity to get you alone on a mission with a veil separating you from society and Ijichi as the Supervisory Assistant - someone who wouldn’t dare intervene in a mission Gojo was on unless the man himself instructed it. The perfect plan.

“Don’t think you can get all frigid on me, don’t you want to be a grade one sorcerer?”

“You know I do.”

“Then you’d better show me how much.” A firm hand on your shoulder has you sliding down the wall to rest on your knees, nodding at his instruction to be cute about it and pressing your cheek to his covered cock. His phone is pointed down at you, pictures taken before you could even consider slapping it away, but you can only grin and bear it as you nuzzle against his crotch. “You want to suck my cock, don’t you? Wanna show me how badly you want to get promoted?”

“Please,” you whisper, kissing along the bulge until you get to the waistband. Your fingers hook into the elastic, but you wait for Gojo’s nod before starting to pull the fabric down. “But can you not record this?”

“Honey, I need this so we can both remember that even when you’re being mean, you want me. That deep down, for all your posturing, you’re just as eager to take my cock as any random woman off the streets in Tokyo.” 

He’s such a bastard. You’d make this the worst blowjob of his life if he wasn’t your only hope of getting promoted, but you can only sigh in resignation. You weren’t getting what you wanted until he was satisfied, but you didn’t know what would truly satisfy him. He paid five million for this opportunity, what more would he spend to get more from you? Or what “tragic accident” could occur should you choose to be noncompliant? A promotion meant nothing if you weren’t alive to use it. 

“Now be good and look cute while you suck me off, don’t want to have to tell the higher ups you can’t take instruction.

Just don’t bite him, you have to tell yourself as he gently taps your cheek with his cock. He’d probably like it, anyway, which wouldn’t be any kind of fun for you. 

Before he can make any kind of request, you gently take the base of his cock in your hand while sucking the tip into your mouth. The taste of his pre on your tongue makes you want to throw up, but you maintain your composure as you take more of him into your mouth. His hand around your wrist pulls your hand from his length, holding it tightly as his other hand settles atop your head, his phone tossed to the side hopefully for the rest of the Awanight. He says something about testing your endurance just before he pushes his length further into your mouth. A sharp thrust makes you choke, but he gives no reprieve - instead warning you that you’d need to sharpen up that performance if you ever wanted to become a grade one sorcerer and reminding you that this was all so you could get a promotion. 

“Oh, you recovered quickly,” he observes aloud, gently tugging on a couple strands of hair while continuing to keep you still. “Has this pretty mouth been used by someone else? Not like it matters, I’ll ruin you for anyone else.”

Fuck him and his confidence, honestly. He’s just rich and untouchable, nothing special. Fucking guy. 

Breathing is your only priority since he’d taken his pleasure into his own hands - that and not biting him or throwing up. Shit, was it hot in here now? Why was it so warm?

It’s supposed to make you more receptive, he’d said, the words bouncing in your head as you feel yourself clench around nothing. The drugs were truly kicking in; your greatest fear of the night being realized in knowing that he’d get your skirt off and realize that you were, in fact, dripping wet. Technically because of him, the artificial assistance simply a footnote in the grander scheme of his memories of the event. 

The way he fucks into your mouth should not make you as wet as you are. But it does, your thighs rubbing together in search of friction you wouldn’t get until he was satisfied with intruding your throat, and you know he’s going to be thrilled when he gets you on that bed to finally get to the main event. 

“Oh, are you ready for me?” he asks, and you curse his damn six eyes technique because he truly missed nothing, but you know better than to lie to him if he had all the control in this situation. It takes all of your strength to nod against around his cock, pulling back to confirm his statement and ask him to fuck you. Playing into his game would make this go faster, and you could go home and scrub your skin while waiting for the results of your promotion mission. 

He’s lifting you effortlessly, carefully dropping you onto the bed and pouncing almost instantly. His fingers play with your soaked cunt for only a few seconds before he’s lining himself up, stretching you out with his thick cock with little regard for your comfort as the recipient. 

“Oh, you feel like heaven, just like I thought you would.” His praise comes out half a whine, and you feel nauseous at just how much pleasure he’s getting from simply pushing into you. Even more nauseous at how eagerly your body allowed the intrusion. “Maybe you’ve got potential to help me breed more little Gojos. Being the only one is a bit lonely, y’know.”

“That’s not part of the deal, Go-fuck!” A slap to your cheek has you stopping, just as he forces the rest of his length in to bottom out, leaving you winded and in different types of pain. 

“You should really use my first name. I think we’re well past formalities and all that cold indifference you tried to maintain.” And he’s setting a brutal pace, leaving you no time to adjust to how he was stretching you out. “C’mon, say it for me. Nice and sweet, now.”

You don’t want to give him the satisfaction, but you also don’t want him to hit you again. This was all about control, a game you had no hope of winning because Gojo was stronger with or without the aphrodisiac, but saying his name was conceding your defeat. 

As if you hadn’t lost the second you’d set foot in this hotel.  

And it slips out when his fingers pinch your clit, a truly pathetic whine of “S-Satrou,” pushing past your lips only to be swallowed by his delighted groan and his mouth covering yours. He would be getting everything he wanted, and your nausea only intensifies before it’s pushed down by the pleasure you begin to feel as he pushes your legs back while praising how good and tight you felt and how he hoped to break your pussy so only he could have it for the rest of your life. This fucking aphrodisiac would make sure of it, and you know he’d keep dosing you to keep you compliant with what he wanted. Satoru Gojo didn’t take no for an answer. 

His pace becomes unbearably slow, you’re not sure if it’s frustrating because of the need bubbling in your core from the aphrodisiac or the fact that you just wanted this to end. Your attempt at meeting his thrusts is met with a shake of his head and a whispered request that you let him take care of you, his words heavy with an intimacy that you didn’t want to have directed at you and hate that you had any reaction to it. To keep you from moving, his large hands grip your thighs to hold them back - also providing him an angle to allow for his thrusts to reach deeper inside your already tormented cunt. The groan that leaves him is almost primal, eyes darkening as he leans in again and forces your legs to your chest. 

“I’m gonna fill you,” he whispers, sending a chill down your spine. “Are you ready?”

You shake your head, knowing you weren’t getting any semblance of a choice but hoping he’d maybe pull out. You also had to hope that Shoko wasn’t in on this, too. Because she would be able to swap anything you might request out for a placebo if Gojo told her to. Bastard had it all mapped out, you were sure. 

“Satoru, please, you can’t-”

You’re cut off by his groan, your cunt being flooded by the sheer amount of his cum that makes your body feel impossibly hotter while he tilts your body back more, tears rolling down your cheeks that have him grinning before resting his head on the pillow against yours. And you lie there with your thighs pushed back and his hands holding you in place, his breathing heavy and hot against your ear. His hips pressed flush against yours, every other moment pulling back a bit only to push himself back in, a pleasured sigh leaving him every so often and fanning your cheek with his hot breath.  

“You did so well. So good for me, darling,” he purrs into your ear, carefully nipping at your lobe before trailing a line of kisses down your neck. “Ijichi is bound to start getting suspicious, so I can’t keep you here all night. But let's get dinner and drinks after we file your report, then you can come to my place and we’ll continue this assessment of your skills so I can comfortably approve your promotion.”

He knows what he’s doing. With your limbs easily pinned down, his cock still snugly plugged in your cunt, you couldn’t go anywhere unless he allowed it - and he wouldn’t allow it until he got the answer he wanted. The answer you desperately didn’t want to give because you wanted to be anywhere but by his side. But you nod anyway, teary eyes meeting his hopeful gaze as you whisper, “I’d really like that, Satoru.”

“I knew you would. Gotta thank Mei for giving me a pretty little girlfriend.”

[quidfree]

hear me out…. todobaku as villains???

im going to disappoint you anon bc i am not a like... dark & twisted fantasy villain au person. as per quidfree canon what keeps me going is good characterisation and so you will find no undercut tattoo-laden bad boys here.

if you want my two cents on what todobaku villain au would most likely look like though it's under the cut

todoroki:

this one is easy right? touya exists. shouto already has his villain backstory: his dad is a bigshot hero uplifted by society and also an abusive bastard in private. his motivations in hero-oriented society are obvious.

i think shouto probably distinguishes himself from touya in a number of ways, one of which being style of villainy. touya was a lot more unstable emotionally (?tied to his quirk self-harm stuff) and undiscerning in his resentment (see: woman hater) even before he ran away. i think shouto would be a more classic anti-hero type villain, less quick to cause chaos and death to unrelated civilians or high schoolers. they would have an uneasy relationship if and when shouto figured out who dabi was- i think he would retain his empathy for his siblings and mother, but he would disagree with touya’s choices.

i see him as a loner villain, not likely to join the league. early UA shouto appeared to have literally never spoken to another person in ten years, so if he around that age veered off the expected path and went MIA, i think the whole ice prince thing would solidify pretty definitely. and that’s the kind of personality he’d have too- icy, controlled superiority over a core of red-hot rage. no quips here. though some dramatics. he hides it but shouto always has flair.

shouto is a practical guy first and foremost. i think he’d just wear something similar to his plumber fit. maybe something akin to a balaklava to mask his identity, but maybe not, if he wants to make his father aware of his actions. i do think touya-style he might go for a hairdye, but in his case it’d probably be bleach, as a sort of obvious reclaiming of rei’s heritage and rejection of enji’s.

overall as villains go if we are keeping to a world close to canon shouto is probably one of the more morally upright people you will encounter. very scary motherfucker but pretty targeted enemies, so unless you’re involved in maintaining the hero justice system at some pivotal level you’re probably safe. if you are though? rip i guess. prepare to have your home frozen, your limbs stuck to the ground, and an icepick summarily driven through your skull by a teenager.

bakugou

katsuki is tough because for him it very much depends on setting, and at a basic level when you’re looking at. katsuki fundamentally is not a fuck the system guy- he’s a guy the system loves, and he’s interested in winning it, not destroying it, at least until character development kicks his ass. so really if you want to go early canon for both of them, villain bakugou is just hero bakugou. a katsuki from the start of bnha left to continue on his presumed arc uninterrupted, no deku or kidnapping or war to force him to question himself. arrogant and cruel and uncaring of what heroism is meant to be about. saving big numbers, sure, or at least defeating big ones, but when your defeats involve death or as good as, hard to draw the line.

similarly, in a universe where for some reason heroes have lost their relevance and villains reign, teen katsuki would have very easily risen in that direction, with similar traits.

who would his targets be? whoever’s in his way, pretty much. even in a more anti-hero slant, villain’s goons would not be safe. and anyone who tried to recruit / hire / ally him would inevitably face some kind of betrayal bc katsuki simply got sick of orders and believes he can handle the fall-out.

in terms of looks, katsuki is more style conscious than shouto is, but as lord explosion murder doesn’t necessarily look very heroic i think he wouldn’t look that different. maybe more of the black and winter-suit vibes.

for as insufferable as he would be, he would also be horrifying, yes. i mean, the guy is a starter kit terrorist. even if he was in tantrum ego mode he could level a street. collateral would be nasty if katsuki didn’t care to contain himself.

todobaku villain interaction ???

if we’re going with the above sort of setting? would not stand each other. for bakugou it’s obvious stuff (think sports fest and general canon), but todoroki genuinely would not tolerate villain bakugou at all, given the obvious alarm bells of similarity to endeavor. it’s not his focus but if bakugou died he would not be displeased.

as in any universe they could be begrudgingly forced into cooperation and then be privately disgusted by how well they worked together after the initial predictable faux pas. all of their other villain colleagues are like “can’t we just call that guy in for an assist again” and theyre like *breathing exercises* no.

they are both despite appearances and villainy-amplified dramatics fairly pragmatic so theyd probably not actively seek to cross each other unless they seemed to be getting in the way of their respective goals. they can recognise that this would be getting into it w an unnecessarily big distraction/threat. but i can imagine the “keep out of this” warnings would be fairly inventive. todoroki negligently thwarts one of bakugou’s plots and bakugou turns his entire hideout to rubble. a bunch of todoroki’s contacts are collateral during one of bakugou’s attacks and bakugou wakes up to find all of his security died of hypothermia overnight. lest we forget they both have petty streaks.

hero x villain interaction would be. very funny and very bad. hero todoroki would be So Tired of villain bakugou bc of how frustrating it is that hes actually hard to stop and villain bakugou in turn would resent him immensely. hero bakugou dealing w villain todoroki? that would be (psychologically bizarre) fun. i think for some reason that would be the closest we get to a bakugou w ‘doodling hearts against their own volition’ crush energy. but theyd get along a lot better than the reverse, mainly bc hero bakugou is like a decent person and villain todoroki respects moral integrity. in both duos in a lighter setting the villain of the two might start getting a mild kick out of messing w the hero despite their focus on other things just bc 1) it gives villain todoroki the mildest of entertainment to look forward to every blue moon given he doesn’t necessarily wish bakugou any active harm 2) villain bakugou feels he’s owed some todoroki suffering considering how annoying he personally finds him.

that’s my two cents on it anyways. idk what everyone else has in mind!

[lixenn]

Character profile

I've managed to translate my rambles into something comprehensible, so have Ottavio's character profile! Since he's a canon character, I kept the basic information to what I found on wiki and just fleshed out his character with the few scraps the entry has begrudgingly gifted me.

Ottavio

Name: Ottavio

Job: Cloud Officer of the Varia

Age: 39

Flame type: Cloud (active)

Nationality: Italian

Appearance

Ottavio has lightly tousled, fair hair and wears glasses. He has a thin face and wears the customary Varia coat.

Personality

I’m basing my Ottavio on the three facts wiki has given me which are he is smart, deceptive and a smooth talker. Also, this personality breakdown is based on Chief’s opinion of Ottavio, so keep that in mind.

Looking in from the outside Ottavio seems like a decent guy; he’s competent, thinks quick on his feet, smiles a lot, doesn’t look nearly as crazy as the other Executives.

Which was one of the first things that tipped Chief off. He’s too perfect, too normal. There’s no way in hell a Varia veteran just walks around smelling like daisies, pretending to not have any skeletons in his closet. This is Varia we’re talking about. The skeleton in your closet is your best friend, you have known it for years, called it Steve and are weirdly attached to it.

Ottavio’s nice guy routine raises all of Chief’s hackles, because this man acts like one of the old farts at the Iron Fort, who politic their way through life and shoot their enemies in the back room so they don’t get any blood on their heirloom carpet.

He’s a liar, constantly wearing a façade, never showing his true intentions. And Chief hates it. He can’t stand liars; he’d prefers outright madness instead of always being left second guessing someone's motives. His instincts never stop screaming at him when Ottavio’s in his vicinity and it’s driving him up the wall. It doesn't help that his inner Cloud can’t stand the perceived competition since Ottavio has the strongest Cloud Flames in Varia territory.

Conclusion: Chief hates Ottavio’s guts. The level of contempt he feels for the other Cloud is bordering on irrational but the more he’s forced to interact with him, the more he realizes that this guy? Has a whole graveyard in his closet.

Now, there are several reasons why Ottavio is still sticking around and hasn’t been incinerated by Xanxus for being a lying piece of shit.

Arrogance: Ottavio doesn’t perceive Chief as much of a threat. While Chief’s position as Head of Housekeeping technically makes them equals in the Varia hierarchy, he’s still a non-combatant. Therefore Ottavio tends to let his guard down when he’s interacting with him. This is based on his belief that he can always get rid of Chief later if the worst-case scenario occurs (aka Chief finds out he’s a traitor). But Ottavio doesn’t have that assurance with Xanxus and the other Officers, which means he’s way more cautious with his behaviour around them.

Acting ability: Ottavio is an excellent liar and knows how to play the game. He’s good at finding the right words, adding just enough flattery to be charming but not enough to be suck-up. He plays his cards close to his chest and he has a way to sway other people’s opinion in his favour.

Unfortunately, Chief alone doesn’t have enough sway to get rid of the Cloud Officer, even though he knows something is fishy is going on. Here’s why:

Connections: Ottavio’s from the old crowd. As former second in Command of the Varia, he still has a lot of support not only from older Varia members - Assassin and Housekeeping alike - but also from the main Family itself. Hence, he’s got a lot of influence and big names (such as Nono himself) to back him up, which makes simply disappearing him quite a difficult affair.

Competence: Ottavio is Varia Quality and has been for years. He knows his division like the back of his hand, his mission record is spotless, and his paperwork game is only outdone by Squalo and Chief himself. So, sacking him based on a ‘bad feeling’ is sadly not going to work (Chief is very salty about that).

This all adds up to Chief being stuck with a traitorous colleague, which is nearly as bad for his blood pressure as Dave's constant pranks. The only thing he can really do is warn his subordinates about the rat in their midst. It doesn’t help that Ottavio constantly undermines him, messes with his employees and just generally doesn’t value Housekeeping at all.

Well, that was my try to give this random filler character an actual personality. Like always, if you have questions or comments about this, my OCs or worldbuilding, just give me scream at me via asks.

[velvets-stuff]

Eeeey, someone sent me an ask asking me about fun facts about the brothers in fish in a birdcage AU, but things happened and the ask was deleted, that's why I'm answering it here!

little facts are always fun to do. (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

F.B!Martin

The first thing that comes to mind about this Martin is the way he chooses his nicknames for others, since Martin uses names of birds or fish, I will borrow the brothers from the epilogue AU to use them as an example (small apology Kazzy , it is for a greater good 🙏)... F.B!Martin possibly calls Epilogue!M “owl” because of the relationship with witchcraft that these animals have, although mainly because of the wise appearance that they have and that would remind him of that M, on the other hand, he would call Epilogue!C something like “Koi” for the Koi fish since the white and orange-reddish colors of the fish would be somewhat similar to the mark/tattoo on this C's face... with those examples I think you already understand how it works, F.B!Martin will take some element/characteristic of someone (almost always superficial) and compare it to a bird or fish 👀.

F.B!Martin is awful at babysitting, If he is put to take care of a child, it is almost guaranteed that the child will end up crying, and who will be the guilty? Definitely not the weird guy who enjoys making cruel jokes and is terrifying by nature 😀

Speaking of cruel jokes, Martin has a somewhat dark sense of humor, not in the sense that it is funny black humor, but rather that it is already unpleasant and cruel, in addition to the fact that he is generally bad at jokes, so it is practically It is impossible for anyone to laugh at his jokes 💀

In general Martin, although charismatic, does come across as rude, especially this is shown since Martin KNOWS that his jokes are not funny and tells them anyway, a little in the hope that someone will laugh, but mostly because he doesn't care. “Didn't you think it was funny? I don't care!!”

I forgot to put this in the official reference image of F.B!Martin (I'll change it when I can), but Martin canonically has a missing tooth, there is no super epic or tragic story that accompanies that, it is simply a characteristic of his design.

Sometimes, on rare occasions, Martin makes normal/non-cruel jokes, and on much rarer occasions these jokes are actually funny.

He doesn't have a bad memory, but over time he has come to forget some things, mainly the universes where he has been but also some things about his original universe, like the voices of his friends and loved ones...

F.B!Chris

This poor man has never seen the stars in his life 💀, in his original universe there was a lot of light pollution and therefore when it was night the starry sky did not exist, perhaps he could partially see the moon but nothing really impressive, therefore one of the Things he would like to do (after getting revenge on F.B! Martin obviously xd) is to see the starry sky for the first time, and if he's lucky even see a shooting star 👀

Chris bites, no, that's not a way of saying, it's not an exaggeration, he LITERALLY BITES, although he normally defends himself like any other person (with fists and weapons(?), if you're close enough, the first thing he probably does is make it bite you.

Martin calls him “Magpie”, he still doesn't know why.

Chris likes to collect precious stones, although it is enough for him that they look pretty (and if they shine better), therefore he has a small jar with stones in his bag.

The scarf he wears used to belong to his older brother (the Martin of his original universe), it was the only thing left of him, therefore he has a lot of appreciation for that scarf, to the point that he can become somewhat possessive or aggressive.

He doesn't like to read, not for the reasons you may think, but because, for some reason, Chris can't imagine the scenes that the books tell, he only sees the letters, so he ends up getting bored.

On the contrary, Chris likes drawing more, watching movies or even audiobooks, anything where he doesn't have to read something will be more interesting to him.

[cross-armageddon]

One more PJO x PRSK post before hiatus

Like I mentioned before - I'm going away for a few days and I won't have access to my tablet, so no doodling anything. I will be able to reply to asks, although it might take some time. I will also schedule a post about Prima Vista, so you know I'm still alive

I will be back doing silly stuff afterwards!!

Niigo (1/2)

(a friend of mine started praising that I put mi🅱️uki and kanada together, but in reality i just simply had an idea for both of them, good my friend's happy tho)

I did already mention some Kanade shenanigans, like the fact she regularly goes out of the camp to visit her human dad. She makes a huge sacrifice going out, with her sensitivity making her light-headed all the time, but hey, that's why she always has someone to accompany her.

She can fight a little, but yeah, it's pretty difficult for her. Instead she works with people higher rank than her during nighttime. It's either simple watch patrol or she practices tending to wounds. A LOT of campers dislike being admitted to her, because... Well, being tended to by a child of a god of death isn't a good sign, despite Kanade being the cutest awkward creature ever created on this planet and actually being pretty decent in patching up wounds. Her gemstone searching powers aren't really much of importance to her - if she ever uses that, it's mostly for negotiations (she's not affected by a curse like Hazel) or for distraction (the classic "throw a coin" situation, but it's eith literally any shiny rock ever).

If you want to ask how she wasn't exploited for that power - the gems don't appear next to her for no reason, she summons them willingly. Simply saying, nobody knew about it, not even her, that is until she found out.

Now, Mizuki.

What did I mean by transformation powers?

Mizuki is naturally talented with making costumes and applying makeup, to the point that they can easily appear as someone else.

Makeup they apply can easily make the optical illusion of having a different face, nose or even eye shape. They can either create a whole fake identity on the spot or imitate someone else, which is a pretty scary ability, but quite fitting. They can get perceived as a whole different person based of their appearance at the moment.

They can pretend to be anyone, but they definitely prefer to imitate girls more often (self explanatory). Appearing as Ena is a pretty successful prank on the real Ena (also Akito, but he quickly figures it out, since Mizuki can't speak when imitating someone - their voice doesn't change).

Also I already mentioned it, but imagine the Aphrodite claim going like this

Aphrodite trans beam (/hj, the closet may be glass, but Mizuki hasnt actually came out YET. On another hand, I like the idea of Aphrodite affirming her children's gender identities while claiming them as hers.)

Also, Mizuki was probably one of the first ones from the cast to get admitted to their respective camp. So yeah, no way of anyone else really knowing, besides the ones who canonically know, like Rui.

Now, a very interesting thing I designed for them - their needle cushion they have on their wrist.

Mizuki can fight with a normal weapon, but those "sewing" needles (not actually for sewing) are their secondary secret weapon.

From the cushion's backside, there's an opening where they can put any liquid inside. After closing it, they can wear the cushion on their wrist and push the needles into it to let them soak in whatever liquid is inside. It could be centaur blood, it could be something to paralyze someone overtime, whatever non-lethal thing - or actual deadly poison. Although the last one is only for real battles and never for practice, wouldn't wanna accidentally kill a campmate.

The needles work against monsters AND demigods, so that's fun! Don't fuck with Mizuki!

Anyways that was all for the post, I'm gonna be back in a few days, but I will post the next Prima Vista event story in the middle of my vacations okay bye

[violentlyexplosive]

Get to know your Tav!

OK SO I DIDN'T NOTICE @piipaw HAD TAGGED ME IN THIS UNTIL *JUST NOW* WHOOPS

(A silly little picrew courtesy of @crowesn to show their more "canonical" appearance)

(How they look in-game)

(O)Leander | Half-Elf (Drow) | Oath of Vengeance Paladin (former Cleric of Lolth, eventual Cleric of Eilistraee) | He/They/It | Age: 45-55 (he lost track of time, whoops)

What is your Tav’s…

Favorite Weapon: Knife of the Undermountain King for lore reasons (advantage on attacks against obscured targets, like duh,) and a shield, but in-game I tend to gravitate more towards greatswords :p

Style of Combat: Sneak up, boss the party members around until the enemies are surrounded, and go in for a surprise attack.

Most Prized Possession: The bones of their undead cat named Shrimp, basically an enchanted summon. She helps him navigate :3c

Deepest Desire: To get revenge, both for themself and everyone else they deem deserving.

Guilty Pleasure: Swimming. Sweet treats. Getting to disembowl evil Lolth-Sworn Drow.

Best-Kept Secret: LONELY. HE ACHES WITH IT.

Greatest Strength: Unwavering sense of justice and duty, strong moral compass.

Fatal Flaw: STRONG MORAL COMPASS. Something of a burgeoning god complex, and is willing to decide between a person's life and death in the name of his Oath. Yikes.

Favorite Smell: Probably fire. Burning wood, Sacred Flame, burning flesh, you name it.

Favorite Spell or Cantrip: Can never go wrong with a good Searing Smite. And Guiding Bolt (when it fucking hits, anyway.)

Pet Peeve: People assuming they're stupid or helpless because they're blind.

Bad Habit: Gets a little single-minded at times, and loses sight of everything else (i.e. consequences, people's feelings, etc.)

Hidden Talent: Plays the viola (not the violin, make this misconception and he will be Grumpy.)

Leisure Activity: Reading (with the help of magic, of course,) and exercising.

Favorite Drink: Hot drinks: Tea. Cold drinks: Beer.

Comfort Food: SOUP. LIQUIFY LITERALLY ANYTHING AND HE'LL EAT IT LIKE HE'S AT A 5 STAR RESTAURANT.

Favorite Person: Astarion, simply because they (ironically enough) found him to be the most agreeable person when their journey began. And of course as time went on they became actual friends/partners. Second place tho has gotta go to Jaheira. M'boy has mommy issues.

Favored Display of Affection (platonic and/or romantic): (platonic) You know when guys, like, grab each others' hands before going in for a hug? Like, specifically the hand grab. But only if he's wearing gloves.

(romantic) Likes to put their hand on Astarion's hip, maybe wrap their arm around his waist. Gentlemanly gestures, if you will (do not be fooled, he is not a gentleman, whatsoever.)

Fondest Childhood Memory: When he and his mother were still close, and she'd play with his hair while singing him to sleep.

Tags (mostly just people who's content I greatly enjoy, rather than mutuals, since I'm pretty late to the trend here lol):

@miraculan-draws @promtease @velnna @mooreaux @nat20composure

[miss-writes-a-lot]

The Base History of Suzume Takami

So I got back into MHA again with Season 6 making its appearance on cable t.v., and that led to me falling into a dabihawks obsession. And like many people who have squeezed these two together, I chose to ignore canon for the most part, pretend what happened in the latest chapter didn't happen, and instead gave them a child and a sort of not realistic idealistic-ish fluff life.

And so here we are.

Quick disclaimer: this is simply for fun. Opinions/headcanons on certain characters are completely my own, so if you have one different to mine than that's fine. So

I have been planning on doing a 'Base history' for a different oc, but after the said becoming obsessed with MHA and dabihawks, she kind of took over my mind and a bit of my time. With that being the case, here's the base history/character profile of my dabihawks daughter, Suzume Takami

So I came up with Suzume after hanging out with my friend at a vintage clothing fair that was happening at a mall I used to frequent. I was already deep into my dabihawks and MHA fixation and there was just something about this one outfit I saw and an animatic I was playing on repeat spurred me into creating an alternative style/fairy grunge-ish character for them with a bit of a tech wear vigilante costume with the only name coming to mind being "Punk Hazard" (which I'm keeping because I like it).

After some searching for a proper name for like, 30 minutes, I settled on Suzume and then started working on a bio and art soon after. This that bio and art is at the end.

Here we go:

Name: Suzume Takami-Todoroki Aiuchi

Name Meaning: Suzume → Sparrow

Aiuchi → Love Inside

Vigilante Name: Punk Hazard

Age: 16

Quirk: Heated Glass —> Suzume can superheat and manipulate glass to her will (a la Cinder Fall Style).

Height: 5'9

Eye color: blue/gold gradient heterochromia (?)

Hair color: Ombre → Dark brown (dyed) blonde (traditionally)

Sexuality: Pansexual (with an AFAB lean)

Personality Snapshot: Mostly cool and fun-loving, almost to the point where you would never know she was a super anxious kid back there. Does her best to be a nice person. Adventurous and reckless. Fiercely protective over those she cares about and even sometimes strangers. Excitable. Hates sitting still. Very affectionate. Strong willed. Determined. Goofy. Kinda bad at lying.

Favorite foods: yogurt covered pretzels, chicken katsu sandwiches, microwave pizza

Favorite kind of music: rock and alternative

Hobbies: plays bass guitar/acoustic guitar, sings sometimes, cooking, glass blowing, writes sheet music, partying, exploring, climbing on shit.

(Short) Bio: Suzume Takami-Todoroki, born to the former villain Dabi and Number 2 Hero Hawks, has spent a majority of her life trying to be as normal and unbothered as possible. Her fathers, concerned for what could happen to her if anyone ever found out that they ever had her in the first place, hid her under the name Suzume Aiuchi up until she was 12-years-old when she was unceremoniously forced to come out by the public, leaving her in this point in her life where she felt like she had to make a decision on which path to follow – hero or villain?

She chose neither.

Instead, Suzume attends a normal high school with little to no interest in participating in any hero courses as to fall into either of the two boxes society wants to force her into. That is until a certain incident at a club (that she snuck out to go to) that she considers forging a new path for herself in order to protect the ones she loves and maybe – just maybe – finally bring the reform that's been desperately needed in this superhuman society.

Notable Relationships:

→Hawks/Keigo Takami & Dabi/Touya Todoroki

Suzume is quite close with her fathers. As a child, she spent most of her time with Touya given Keigo's hectic hero life and the fact that it was difficult for Touya to be out without someone recognizing him as the villain Dabi, but that doesn't mean either of them were ever super absent from her life. In fact, anytime Keigo came home, he'd make it his mission to spend as much time with her as possible. She loves them both dearly and would do anything for them, but she has some complex feelings surrounding her slightly turbulent childhood in that she feels bad for feeling upset about certain situations that happened as well as the general situation of being the daughter of a very notorious A-rank villain and a hero with blood on his hands. They never made her feel this way, but she doesn't voice her issues because she doesn't want to discredit their efforts in giving her a better life than they had.

→The Todoroki Family

Suzume has a pretty good relationship with most of the Todoroki Family, being very close with her cousins (wink wink) and her uncle Shouto who babysat her on short notice whenever he could, but does not have much of a relationship with Endeavor/Enji Todoroki. Touya made it very clear that he did not want Suzume anywhere near him and swore up and down that he would never see her to the point where he didn't even know she existed until a random encounter at the supermarket brought them together, but even then she did not have much contact with him. In short, her current opinion of him is negative. She sees him as the reason her dad (Dabi) fell down the path he did and she just hates how he was to his family. Anytime they cross paths, she avoids them as much as possible.

→ Aimi Aikuchi/Cupid

Aimi Aikuchi has been Suzume's best friend since childhood. She stuck up for her after her true identity was revealed, coming to her defense anytime someone tried to start shit. She's the lead singer/bassist of their yet to be named band and a lovecore themed hero in training by the name of Cupid. They are nearly inseparable, being basically glue at the hip. They support each other despite their different career choices and oftentimes help each other out whenever they happen to be in battle together. They are each other's day ones and will always be.

→ Reina Nanami

Reina is Suzume's quirkless other best friend whom she ends school with. She is a bit louder and rebellious than Suzume, often being the one to drag the trio into trouble. She loves partying, often putting in front of school and any other important activity that demands her attention. She feels insecure being quirkless and sometimes expresses a bit of jealousy that her two best friends are super powered but she is very loyal to the both of them. She plays keyboard and sometimes the drums in her band and was actually the one who suggested Suzume pick up an instrument since she loves music so much.

→ Ghost

(Currently under development) Ghost is a mysterious young hero that Suzume meets one night as Punk Hazard and she falls head over heels for. Ghost is very flirtatious with Suzume whenever they meet. Currently, neither of them know much about each other (mostly because their story – specifically Ghost's– is underdeveloped).

That's all I have for now! If you're interested in learning more about Suzume, feel free to comment, maybe send an ask? If not, that's cool. I'll just leave you with some concept art and final designs for our girl down below. Thanks for stopping by!

[msommers]

😱 ✨ 👗 for maeve and elena!

WE FINALLY ANSWERED IT BOIS thank u v much for the prompts mwah xoxo // prompts i’d like to receive  

[  😱     ] does your muse have any specific fears? where did those fears come from?

MAEVE — 

scared of griffins after one or two rough encounters, especially that one where she thought dietrich fucking Died getting shoved off a rooftop and then she had to scramble away before her ass got tossed off as well. 

gets a bit nervous if all windows in a space are shuttered/have their curtains closed because it reminds her of the vibe to the sommers estate when carden was around.

feels uneasy when getting too close to fires, can sometimes have her fight-flight-or-freeze triggered if a witcher pops off an igni while next to her and she’s not prepared. initially came from the time carden started throwing all of her writings into a fireplace and she foolishly tried to reach for them out of distress and desperation while he kept on, a move that left her with a burn scar along the underside of one arm (which one i cannot remember atm whoops). add on the no doubt countless encounters she’s had while traveling with witchers. and then in some verses can top it off with that vampire attack on beauclair where everything was either on fire, in ruin, occupied by a feral vampire, or all of the above and she was stuck there. ... :)

hates hates hates hates isolation so much. triggers way too many negative emotions and dreadful memories of the carden era that she usually keeps from bubbling back up by making sure she’s constantly with people. odds are she probably has at least one incident of ending up isolated while on a quest with a witcher that left a lasting mark as well because that’s just her luck.

ELENA —

i don’t think she has nearly as many fears as the bard up there, any of elena’s revolve around social anxiety. she was So Little when people started coming to her for her divine magic or asking for blessings of pelor before she knew what they really meant, it really left a mark on her. left her with a “just use your magic to solve their problem and that’s enough, that’s all they want" mindset to justify her feelings of being shy or nervous to engage in more than small talk or discussion about the issue(s) at hand. she got slightly better at it as she grew up, but the fear of speaking to large crowds or potentially needing to deliver some kind of inspiring speech never really left. smth smth she’s just babey, her charisma is all from her appearance, kindness and the vibes of Pure Good that she gives off from being a divine soul daughter of pelor, she’s not here for deep speeches go ask azlana if you need one of those.

[   ✨     ] what aesthetics or symbols do you reference when writing your muse? are these backed up by canon, if your muse comes from a canon? is there any specific relevance to these choices?

MAEVE — all types of flowers, pretty corsets, fancy dresses, books books books, moments of intimacy between lovers, some more but those are the usual suspects. it’s all simply her vibes, y’know. the flowers tho, those are usually nods to white orchard or how she has them all around her homes. tulips specifically are for after the sommers estate has been entirely reworked under her guidance and she decides to make it the new sigil.

ELENA — sunlight sunlight sunlight, golden and healing hands, burning candles, fields of wheat and flowers, golden and white clothing, blonde girlies in nature. entirely all for the vibes and visuals, no deep meaning to any of it.

[   👗   ] what is your muse’s fashion sense like? are they able to dress the way they want to? what would they wear in an ideal world?

MAEVE — she's fortunate enough to have that ideal wardrobe of hers, has far too many clothes but it's something that brings her joy so who cares. i fully can see her having a room in her estate(s) dedicated just to her wardrobe—the dresses, skirts and tops, coats, cloaks, shoes, accessories, etc etc etc, it's all got its place. she's a super fan of detailing on her things and it's incredibly rare to see her in an outfit that's without any designs crafted into it, her nightgowns and underthings also have them even if it's just a simple pattern. i don’t know how to describe the fashion sense outside of you look at her and think “oh wow that outfit probably cost more than my yearly living and she looks fucking stunning”, because whatever combo of clothes she puts on that day is gonna fit the bill lmao

ELENA — i decided during character creation that it'd be funny if the granger family was stuck in the past with their fashion, so they're still rocking the more Classic fantasy style wardrobes while most of whitestone has evolved with the times. has maybe like one (1) dark red dress and the rest of her wardrobe is all light colors, shades of blue, gold and white. she sees nothing wrong with her clothes and enjoys wearing them, though it can get tedious to assemble some of the more complicated and layered looks that come from the winter season or attending social events where she’s expected to look every part The Sunblessed.

[dapper-shipping-forever]

2, 4, 5, 6, and 7 for the self insert lore asks?

I'm gonna answer about my M.agi s/i for this !

2) Normally, I fit my s/i's in as early as I can into canon. For this s/i, she is introduced a little later, but also fairly early in the series. Phrasing this with as little spoilers as possible, she is introduced when Morg and Aladdin are traveling together to Balbadd. The scene she first comes in is pretty inconspicuous; they simply run into each other in a small town in the desert, and they have a short conversation; it's mainly meant, in a meta sense, to briefly introduce her and set the scene for her proper introduction a couple scenes later in the same episode. This scene gives a taste of her personality and as she's walking away, Aladdin notices she is wearing a djinn metal vessel on her hand.

4) She's a main character; she travels with the main cast sometimes and is fairly important overall.

5) Because of her djinn metal vessel, she can control plants. She can basically make any plants grow, but it has to be theoretically capable of growing in that environment either way, like not necessarily native but has to be able to be cultivated there; she can manipulate those plants freely, and can shape them creatively somewhat. She is capable of creating oasises, this takes substantial magoi. Something else her djinn metal vessel allows her to do is convert sunlight in magoi, appearing sometimes as if she simply has nearly infinite magoi, though to balance this I'm thinking she can maybe only do it while she's djinn equipped (something all djinn metal vessel users can do where they like invite their djinn into their body and transform). Also something I invented and I think would be neat in canon, I like thinking maybe she can do an extra ability I call full djinn equip, which is essentially fusing with her djinn, but this is pretty dangerous since it requires a lot of magoi and she is only able to do this because of her ability to turn sunlight into more magoi, and she can only do this with constant sunlight, if she was away from sunlight for a second the transformation would stop; also she has to be super careful to not fuse with her djinn too much, as if she fully fused then the djinn's magoi is far more powerful than her's and she would basically never be able to seperate from her like she would just become a part of her djinn, but this form is stronger than normal djinn equips. Again as far as I know thats not anything in canon and it's an op move I just invented.

6) No, but I do want her to have some lmao

7) I do have other M.agi crushes, and I think they have little crushes on her. Namely Ren, who is honestly close to just being an f/o; when she's in the kou empire they get pretty close and he does get some feelings for her (which makes Sinbad jealous the second he sees that lmao)

[luxeavenger]

Tie My Feet To Rocks And Drown

Paring: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Words: 4841

Warnings: NSFW (18+ only), light angst, pining, falling in love, love confessions, blood and injury, canon typical violence, frottage, oral sex (f receiving), sex (piv), Bucky Barnes''s metal arm (it's a warning, okay?)

NOT FOR CONSUMPTION BY MINORS.

Main Masterlist | Ko-fi

You’d take him any way you could get him.

Sometimes that means opening your door at 3am to find the soldat leaning against your doorframe. Long hair matted with blood, sweat soaked into his leathers, and a grimace on what you can see of his face. You quickly become an expert at removing his leathers, with their many buckles and hidden snaps. When he shows up like this you don’t let him peel his clothes off by himself, because he’s usually been shot or stabbed. Blood is the currency he’d have to pay to undress himself. He says he can afford it, but you refuse to let him try.

So you have a new hobby. Collecting surgical instruments, little packets of suture, lap sponges, a cautery pen. You hoard thick gauze pads, cloth tape, wound wash, bandages. Your first aid kit is massive now, because you worry if you use the needle and thread out of your sewing kit he’ll end up with an infection, even though he quietly insists that isn’t even possible.

He peeks through your curtains into the pitch black night and tells you he’s hiding from his handlers. He’s gotten good at hiding, but they’ll find him eventually, because they aren’t the kind of people who leave weapons lying around. You don’t know who these people are, or what will happen if they find him, but whoever the bastards are, they keep him muzzled. He calls it a mask, but you know a muzzle when you see one. When you take it off of him his pupils blow wide, he breathes heavier. It’s as if simply exposing the bottom of his face is an act more intimate than sex.

He begs in a soft voice for you to fuck him. He’s always so careful with you, but he insists that you bitemarkscratchbruise, because it’s the only way he knows how to be touched. His unique brand of tenderness. He needs permission to be someone other than the soldat. To be treated as someone other than the asset. To forget who the Winter Soldier is. To feel something other than the violent and uncaring touch of strangers. You give him that permission with your lips, your tongue, and your teeth. Still, you sneak in little drips of devotion. You feed him microdoses of affection. You sew him up, then you ride his cock while he holds you with hands stained in blood that isn’t his. He whispers promises that he’ll never forget you, even if his handlers force him to. When dawn comes he disappears quick as a whisper in the wind.

Every single time you wake to find him gone, you’re left wondering if you’ll ever see him alive again.

You’d take him any way you could get him.

Sometimes that means you’re at the market about to start your car and the passenger door opens and closes and he’s there beside you. He wears civilian clothes now: jeans, a faded hoodie, a trucker hat pulled low on his forehead, and broken in shitkickers, leather soft and soles worn from all the time he spends running. They’re the armor that hides how hard he’s become in exile. His sad, stained-glass eyes never stop darting back and forth, even when he has you doing 80 down the interstate, running away from someone only he can see.

This man has no name. You greet him as soldat the first time he appears next to you in the car and he flinches as if you’d struck him. He softly replies I don’t do that anymore, and motions for you to drive. You ask him what to call him and he won’t say anything besides I can’t and it’s not safe. This man is obsessed with keeping you safe. Just by virtue of knowing him, he insists you aren’t, though he never says from whom.

This man never comes to you hurt. Not on the outside anyway. This man comes to you hunted. He comes to you haunted. He comes to you when he needs to hide but he’s too afraid to hide alone. He has spent too long in exile, and sometimes the quiet makes him wish for death. It’s impossible to forget the things he’s done when the only voice he hears is his own.

This man is harder than the soldat. He’s corded thick with muscle. Swollen and heavy and solid as stone, like a feral animal that knows nothing but the constant fight to stay alive. You wonder how he came by his new thickness. Certainly not a gym, he can hardly stand to be indoors, so being in a gym surrounded by strangers would make him crawl right out of his skin. This man uses his muscle in a way the soldat never would. He’s rough. He devours your pussy, supporting your entire body, perching you on his biceps, he holds you to his face with nothing but his preternatural strength. Fucking you with his tongue until the front of his henley is soaked with your juices, and your voice is hoarse from crying out your pleasure. He manhandles you onto his cock, giving you what you’re desperate for, and taking what he needs. Squeezing your hips until they bruise, curling a shiny silver hand around your throat, sucking and biting marks into your neck and chest.

He can’t bear to leave you unless he also leaves something to remember him by.

You’d take him any way you could get him.

Sometimes he doesn’t come to you at all. Half the world vanishes and you are left alone. You wait for him. You hope for as long as it makes sense to hope. But he never comes. You break a thousand times a day because that’s how often you think about him since he stitched himself into your heart. You refuse to consider that he may be dead, because without him the whole world is full of pins and needles that pierce and bleed you with every movement you make. You refuse to entertain the thought that he’s still alive, because that would mean his absence is self-imposed, intentional, like the empty hole in a noose just waiting for you to slip your neck inside.

On the days where you feel like you’ll drown in your tears, you idly wonder if anyone else is out there missing the man with the chestnut hair and ocean eyes.

You’d take him any way you could get him.

Joy bubbles in your heart when, out of the blue, there’s a knock on your door at 3am. Your pulse gallops because your heart and soul knows it’s him—he’s finally come back to you. He hasn’t forgotten you after all. Seeing him here, far away from where you were the last time you looked upon his fine face, comes as no surprise. No matter where you go, he can find you, it’s one of the many gifts he possesses. You fling open the door with tears in your eyes. Your face is cradled against a familiar shoulder, your lungs fill with a familiar scent, you’re crushed against a broad chest, and spun around in strong arms. Your eyes aren’t the only ones that sting with tears. God, doll. How I’ve missed you, his laugh is full of joy like straw spun into gold. You haven’t heard his voice in years, but it slips back around you like a second skin, comforting, warm, familiar.

His dark hair is short now, and his prosthetic arm is shiny and new. He doesn’t mumble or mutter anymore. Now, he looks at you when he speaks, smiles with his eyes, and laughs with his whole heart. Without reservation, he finally gives you his real name: James Buchanan Barnes—Bucky. At last you have a word for him that isn’t some transient alias, temporary terms for a man who never sits still. When you call him by his name his delight is etched into every line of his face.

Bucky tells you everything. He tells you all of his names—all of the men he’s ever been—all of whom add up to be James Buchanan Barnes. It takes the better part of the morning for him to go through it all. While he talks in his deep, gentle voice, you get glimpses of all the men you remember: the soldat, the nameless man; along with ones you’ve never met before, the impulsive old soul, the good man who belongs to a long ago war, the one who turned to ash at the feet of a great man. He speaks through the dark, well into the day. He shows you a notebook, reverently pinched between the fingers of his new vibranium arm. He tells you about his therapy, and his new friend Sam, and the whole new family he has because of Sam. Unburdening himself takes years of worry off his handsome face, and decades of guilt off his shoulders.

You hold him and whisper soothing words when PTSD flashbacks lock up his muscles and strand him in the past, where the sky is full of fire, and the air is pregnant with bullets. You trace questing fingertips over areas where you’d lovingly stitched up perforations in his pale skin, searching for scars but finding none. He speaks in languages you don’t understand, words that mean longing and rusted and furnace and daybreak, words that make him tremble as hot tears shine in his eyes and scorch trails down his cheeks. He paints pictures with his words of a place he calls Wakanda, but he makes it sound a lot like heaven. Where he was called White Wolf by people who had no reason to respect him but did anyway, and had the source of his greatest shame—the gravest violation foisted upon him in all of his long years—plucked carefully from his head by one woman and was confidently declared a cured and free man by another.

He tells you about the one he loved more than anyone else. A life stretched unnaturally long like his own, but walked on a vastly different path. Steve held Bucky’s heart in his hands, and was oh so gentle with it, until he wasn’t. Bucky talks of the stinging pain of a betrayal he’d never dare name as such in the light of day, and of love and the bitter pain of love’s loss. He sobs until his knees buckle and bile claws its way out of his throat until he’s retching in your kitchen sink. He doesn’t understand how it’s possible to love someone with such fervor, and survive not being loved like that in return. A thin layer of resentment festers below the surface; an infection he’s slowly tweezing out from under his skin with the help of his therapist. He stares at his hands, and talks in fits and starts about the man who tore his heart out of his chest, and left him with nothing but a ragged hole, full of raw meat and splintered bone, that tore and bled with every agonizing breath.

He tells you he’s slowly putting all those fractured pieces back together, but these things take time.

When you reach out to hold his hand, he smiles at you, kissing your knuckles and holding tight to you. He calls you petal, doll, and peach. He calls you by your name, and his face lights up from within when he does. His stained-glass eyes change color with his moods, a shifting prism filled with so many blues you couldn’t name them all if you tried. His body language is different, because Bucky isn’t hiding any of himself from you anymore.

When he finally sighs, and looks at you with eyes that hide no secrets, you stretch. It’s almost lunchtime, and you offer him coffee and sandwiches.

‘Sure doll, I’d love that.”

Your back is to him, so you can’t see the soft look of love that falls over his face as he watches you putter around your kitchen. Just one side of you he’s never met before, because he was always running. You hum quietly to yourself while the coffee maker spits and sputters in the background. His heart aches for this domesticity. Mornings sleeping in, late nights watching movies, dinners, parties. Peace. He wants all of it. And he wants it with you, but he’s never learned the words to ask this of anyone.

You slide a plate onto the table with a stack of sandwiches on it. He smiles at you, creases crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Thank you,” he says softly, shyly.

“Of course,” you smile back at him, radiant as a sunbeam, he’s blinded in the face of such light.

The ghost of something mars his features, just an instant, gone as quickly as it appeared. Anxiety? Worry? Pain?

“Is everything okay?” you ask, smoothing a calming hand over his shoulder.

Bucky licks his bottom lip between his teeth, and chews on it before nodding. His eyes dart away from yours, but he immediately brings them back, like he’s been working on making eye contact along with everything else.

His eyes are soft, vulnerable, “I just really want to kiss you.” His eyes flit away again. He’s worried you won’t want this Bucky as much as you’ve wanted the others.

His eyes go wide when you plop down into his lap and wrap your arms around him. He kisses you with abandon, and you yield to him. Pulling you against him, and framing your face with his hands, he licks his way into your mouth, and tangles his tongue with yours. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world for you. His full, soft lips turn up at the corners, smiling into the kiss.

You have no idea how long you and Bucky kiss. You’re making up for all the years of rushed embraces, sparse kisses, and quickies. He doesn’t want to rush with you anymore, and you’re delighted to indulge him.

Eventually you break the kiss to tug at his shirt. You try to pull it over his head, but he grabs the hem to stop you.

“Are you sure, peach? You don’t have to,” his eyes clearly communicate that he doesn’t think he deserves what you’re offering him.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you start, using his full name, not to scold, but because you love the way it sounds and you love knowing it at last, “I have wanted you since the first time I scooped you up from the side of the road, when you were soaked in blood, but refused to let me take you to a hospital. I’ve driven two thousand miles away from my home just to help you run from the men who hurt you. I’ve cried over you, sewn you up, worried about you every moment of every day you weren’t in my life. Of course I want this. I’ll always want it—want you—no matter who you are. It’s always you, and it’s only you. Please believe me when I say I want you, Bucky. All of you.”

His eyes search your face, and you let the truth of what you’ve said show on your features. Apparently he’s satisfied with what he sees, because he helps you lift his shirt off. You move to straddle him so you can smooth your hands over the broad expanse of his chest. Bucky’s eyes flutter shut and he hums a happy noise. You pepper his lips, neck, and scruff-covered cheeks with kisses until he’s smiling again.

You shrug out of your shirt, and reach behind you to unhook your bra. Bucky’s hands stop you. “No, doll. Let me do it, okay?”

Your hands go back to Bucky’s chest, leaning into him as he unclasps your bra and slides it down your arms. Your nipples pebble in the cool kitchen air. Bucky palms your breasts, thumbs teasing the stiff peaks, pinching and tugging them until you’re shuddering and moaning.

His hands float down to the front of your shorts. He pops the button and rakes the zipper down, sliding his hands down the back of your shorts to cup your ass while he kisses you breathless.

You’re eager to have him inside of you again, so soon you’re standing to shimmy out of your shorts and panties. Bucky eyes you with hunger, his eyes sporting lust-blown pupils, and the outline of his stiff cock obvious in his jeans. He looks more confident now, finally convinced that he need not be so delicate with you.

He pats his leg, “Can you ride my thigh, petal? Wanna see you come apart for me.”

You sink down to straddle his thick thigh. His vibranium hand automatically goes to your neck. You’re plenty wet already, and your juices soak into his jeans.

He hisses a curse, “Fuck. Already so wet for me. Need you to soak my thigh, kitten. Do that for me, and I’ll fuck you so good.”

You grind down onto him with a groan. The metal hand on your neck squeezes gently but firmly. You start to rock your hips and his hand presses you down onto him without impeding your movements. His right hand tangles in your hair, and he devours your mouth with an aggressive kiss.

You’re whimpering into his mouth while the wet spot on his leg grows. The rough denim on your sensitive clit is inexorably dragging you toward an orgasm. Little electric shocks zing through you with every roll of your hips. Your orgasm coils in your guts like a spring, until it finally snaps. Your thighs tremble as you thrust and shake your way through the spasms.

“I forgot how gorgeous you are when you come, petal. Thank you for helping me remember.”

He stands, wrapping your legs around his waist. You point him through the house until he finds your bedroom. He tosses you onto the bed, quickly stripping off his jeans and boxer briefs and climbing onto the bed.

He settles between your thighs. Big hands pushing them wide. He kisses over the soft skin, making his way to your cunt. He licks a slow stripe up your slit, savoring the taste of you.

“So fucking sweet, doll. Always taste so sweet.” He pushes two warm fingers into you, languidly thrusting and twisting them while he teases your clit with his agile tongue.

You groan, twisting your fingers into his short hair. “Oh, Buck. You feel so good.”

Steve’s nickname for him falls easily from your lips. It rankles him when people use Steve’s nickname. But when you say it, it heals a small piece of his heart. Of course the two people he loves most—in this world, or any other—would call him Buck. It makes him giddy, and goosebumps crawl over his skin.

He sucks your clit, rolling it on his tongue, until you tug his hair to get him even closer to you. A deep growl bubbles up out of his chest, and it goes right to your pussy.

“Oh fuck, Bucky,” you gasp, “harder. More. God, please. Feels so good.”

He pulls his fingers out of your cunt, using them to spread your lips open and spears his tongue into your slit. His cool metal thumb moves to your clit, and the cold is a completely different sensation, though not unpleasant, and your hips buck.

“Fuck, yes. That feels so good. Don’t stop.” You tug his hair again to make him stay, as if there was a snowball’s chance in hell that he’d be anywhere else right now.

His scruffy beard burns your thighs and pussy lips, making you squirm. He snakes his arms around your thighs, and presses his palms over your stomach, holding you still so he can tongue fuck you with vigor.

You gasp and moan and curse, and it sounds like music to him. His cock is twitching and leaking, trapped between his stomach and your blanket, a hot, sticky puddle forming under him.

His tongue traces back up to your clit, making you whine, “Jesus, Bucky. I’m so—fuck—I’m so fucking close. God, ‘m gonna come,” you chant, “please, please, please.”

He slips three thick fingers into your pussy, and it pushes you over the edge. Your back bows up off the bed, and you fall apart, choking on his name, and coming on his fingers and face with a slick rush of fluid.

He finally comes up for air with a passionate curse. “Jesus fuck, kitten. Almost forgot how fucking pretty you sound when you come.”

Everything from his nose down is soaked and shiny with your juices. His hair is a mess from your fingers carding through it. He looks completely sinful when he crawls up your body, and it’s all manner of sexy when he captures your mouth in a kiss, and the taste of you fills your senses.

He takes his cock in hand and drags it through your folds. He growls at how hot and wet you are for him. He slowly starts pushing in, and you realize you’d forgotten how thick he was. Your eyes roll back in your head with a long groan as he stretches you. Your cunt makes the filthiest noise, and slick dribbles down your crack to soak into your bedspread as he fills you.

You’re both panting and sweaty by the time he bottoms out. You clench around him to relish the burn, and he growls a curse.

“Feel so full, Buck. God, you feel so amazing. So good. Please just move. Fuck me.” You know you’re babbling, but you’re powerless to stop while you’re impaled on Bucky’s dick like this.

He draws out of you slowly, making sure you feel every raw inch of his shaft, until it’s just the tip of his cock resting inside your entrance. He pushes back in hard and fast, slapping his hips against your ass, splitting you open and making you cry out his name.

He hooks your legs over his shoulders, and the new angle makes him feel even bigger, like you can feel him all the way in your throat. Each time his cock punches into you it knocks the breath out of your lungs, and all you can do is hold on for dear life while you melt underneath him.

He’s pounding into you, and everything is so intense you can’t form a coherent thought. Bucky's cock is driving plenty of noises out of you, but you couldn’t form words right now if you wanted to. He is not similarly afflicted though. He’s grunting all sorts of filth into your ear.

“Fuck kitten. So goddamn tight. Squeezing my cock so hard.”

“Fucking drenched, peach. My soaking wet fuck toy.”

“Taking my cock like a good girl.”

“Keep screaming for me, kitten. Gonna fill you fulla come.”

“Cunt feels so good. Want you to come on my cock,” the last one doesn’t feel like a statement, and when his thumb goes to your clit you know it for what it is—an order. “Now, Y/N. Come for me.”

You fall apart for him wailing his name so loud you’re glad you don’t have any neighbors close by. Your pussy gushes, soaking you and Bucky, filling the room with slick squelching sounds.

Bucky looks between your bodies, groaning at the way his cock is all shiny with your wetness.

“You got one more for me, doll?” he urges, “come one more time for me, like a good girl, and I’ll let you rest.”

You whimper, “‘S too much. I can’t.”

“You can. You’re such a good girl, I know you can.”

You whine a curse, and nod at Bucky. He smirks and coos praise at you. “There’s my girl. So good for me. Gonna make you drown my cock, kitten.”

Bucky rolls you both over so you’re above him. Now every roll of your hips drags his cock over your g-spot and immediately you feel a heaviness starts to settle in your core.

“Oh fuuuuuuck,” you groan. Hands going to Bucky’s chest to steady you, you sink your nails into his pectorals just to hear him hiss.

Bucky growls, “Mine. Fuck, kitten. You’re mine.”

The building weight crescendos and you orgasm sweeps over you, and you come all over Bucky, soaking his stomach and thighs with a hot rush of slick, and you keen, “Yours, yours, yours, oh fuck, ‘m yours.”

Your pussy clenches around him, sucking him back into your body, and he fucking whimpers, and the sound nearly makes you come again.

He plants his feet on the mattress, grabs your hips with a bruising grip, and fucks up into you hard and fast. Finally his hips falter, his rhythm stutters, and his cock swells and bucks inside of you, drenching your slick channel with come. Bucky fucks you through his orgasm, pushing cream out around his cock.

He pulls you down onto his chest and wraps himself around you, planting gentle kisses over your face and shoulders, whispering soft words of praise, punctuating each compliment with a kiss.

Eventually he rolls you over onto your pillow, and scoots off the bed, disappearing into the adjoining bathroom. He cleans himself up in the sink, and wets a washcloth with warm water. He uses the washcloth to gently clean you up, wiping sweat and come off your skin with the tenderest touch. Then he scoops you up with his vibranium arm so he can toss back the blankets with his other hand. He slides you in the bed and chases after you, wrapping the blankets around you both.

He’s on his side with the blanket tucked under his prosthetic arm. It’s not the first time you’ve seen it, but it’s the first time where you’ve felt comfortable enough to really focus on it.

“Y/N, why are you crying? Did I do something? Did I hurt you?” The flash of fear you see looks out of place in his cerulean eyes.

“No. You didn’t do anything wrong at all, Buck. It’s just-” you gesture at his shoulder, “Can I?”

“Of course,” his relief is nearly palpable, “anything you want, doll.”

You’ve got this brand new ache in your heart. You trace gingerly along the mass of scar tissue that surrounds his prosthetic shoulder joint. The scar is raised, and pink, and still so angry looking after all this time.

Quietly you ask, “Does it hurt?”

He confesses, “Sometimes. But it also lets me help people.” He tells you about how he ripped the door off an armored police van recently. People inside would have died without him, and it tested the limits of his endurance, but in the end, any discomfort he’d felt disappeared in a wash of relief when everyone inside of the van emerged unharmed because of him.

He cups your face with his vibranium hand and, for the first time, you notice the nearly imperceptible humming and whirring noises that issue from the arm.

He flexes, showing how the individual plates on the arm were able to reconfigure, to make the artificial muscles appear to flex, and how the plates are able to interlock in a way that make it nigh impossible to break his grip unless Bucky wills it.

“It’s really beautiful, Bucky. Truly a work of art.”

“Shuri really knocked it out of the park when she designed it. I’m not sure what I did to deserve the help of the Wakandans-”

“Bucky Barnes, listen to me,” you interject, taking his face in your hands, “you deserve the world. Do you hear me? I’ve thought so since the very first time I stitched you up, and my opinion about that hasn’t changed a single time in the last decade. And if you promise not to run away from me again, I’ll spend every moment we’re together making sure you don’t forget it.”

His eyes have gone a pure crystalline blue, and they’re filled with naked adoration. “No, petal. ‘M not going anywhere. Not anymore. I’m here as long as you’ll put up with me.”

Tears bite at your eyes, and you laugh past the lump in your throat. “How’s forever sound?”

“Pretty great, actually.” A smile breaks over his face like a wave. His eyes are a startling sky blue, and you’ve never seen him look this… happy.

You smooth a hand over his scruffy jaw, “I love you, Bucky.”

He leans into your palm, “I never thought I’d hear those words again, never thought I deserved to. I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

A heaviness is lifted from your heart, and replaced with the bright, earnest light of Bucky’s love and adoration. You see tears gather in his eyes and wonder if he feels similarly.

“So, petal, I hope you don’t have plans tomorrow.”

“Why? Are we going somewhere, Buck?”

“Delacroix, Louisiana. I’ve got some family I want you to meet.”

[aikoiya]

DP AU - PT AU - Teen Rivals

AU where Vlad is the same age as Danny & Dina. Instead of Vlad going to college with Jack & Maddie, his father, Manfred Masters, did. Manfred didn't get into an accident, instead stealing the Fenton's work. It earns him both their enmity.

Let me just say something; Manfred has severe NPD, meaning Vlad has it in him to become NPD too. Physically, Manfred is the mirror image of canon Vlad if his hair never turned grey & he had a mustache. He's also just like Vlad in how he interacts with others, but worse. So much worse.

He's a conniving, manipulative slimeball. He's power hungry & a sleaze. He's not necessarily crazy, but he is unhinged & simply a rotten person. Admittedly, this is also a result of his own childhood trauma. However, instead of growing to crave closeness like canon Vlad did, Manfred gave up on such things, even beginning to scorn it. He feels that since he never got a good childhood, no one else should be happy either & is much like Spectra in many ways. Unlike Vlad, who craves the love & affection of others but goes about getting it the wrong way, Manfred cares nothing for relationships & views people as tools to be used to his own ends whether via honeyed words from a silver tongue or outright blackmail. He doesn't seek love in any manner, not even truly believing in it due to his own experiences in life & finding those who do to be weak-minded & overly sentimental.

Despite Vlad growing to become an engineering prodigy with a real interest in ectology, it never seemed to be enough for his father, who always demanded more & better.

Again, Manfred is much like canon Vlad, but if he were competent as a villain & patient. He's got a bit of David Xanatos in him if Xanatos was an absolute trash person.

Manfred, being old money, used his power & influence to have his own portal built. Much like the Fentons, his didn't work at first, so a 10 year old Vlad, hoping to gain his father's love, tried to fix it. Much like with the proto-portal, it infects him with ecto-herpies &, after 4 years, this results in him becoming a halfa. Though, this time around, there was no cola contaminant. The transition was painful & slow & he spent those years in the hospital with only his mother coming to visit him. A year into his hospitalization, the ecto-herpies reached his heart & it gave out. When they used the defibrillators on him, he was revived & his transition to halfa began. (Half-a ghost, half-a Lugat. He became a Lugat because his desire for someone who would love & understand him was such that it brought him back to life.) It was only after he'd been revived that his father's portal sputtered to life.

Now, Vlad doesn't come out of it looking like canon Plasmius. His hair isn't in horns (he actually gels his hair to look like that later in the au until Dina confesses that it looks dumb), his skin is flesh-colored, if paler than in human form, & his eyes are the same, but with glowing magenta irises. His ears won't become pointed, nor will he gain claws until he reaches Halfa Puberty. Vlad's canon appearance is due to a severe decline in mental stability & loss of morals. He does have retractable fangs though, but that's because he's half-lugat.

He looks a bit like this:

Not my art.

At the same time, I think he'd wear a little hooded capelet. Like this:

But white.

I've seen a picture of teen Vlad wearing one before, but haven't been able to find it again yet.

This Vlad is just a kid, but not even a bad kid, though snobbish, a brat, can be petty, & even a bit of a bully in school at times. A little like Draco Malfoy in a way. However, it's because of his father's mistreatment of him.

Anyway, his father came in when Vlad first transformed. The man now manipulates his son to his own ends much the same way that canon Vlad manipulated Ellie. With honeyed words, hollow praise, & conditionary affection.

The reunion was Manfred's attempt to shove it in the Fentons' faces that he opened a portal first only to find out that they also figured it out. Without his money or resources.

That was the first time that Vlad met the twins. Vlad learns that the twins are like him & doesn't tell his father. Manfred eventually begins to get an inkling that the Fenton twins were also the Phantom twins, but initially dismisses it. Though, the coincidences begin to stack up over time.

Vlad initially appears to be a cocky, arrogant little imp, but eventually turns out to be suffering from neglect, subconscious insecurity, emotional abuse, & manipulation by his father. Before this, if his father wasn't being dismissive, insulting him, or demanding perfection from him, he simply didn't have anything to do with Vlad. Now, his father actually payed attention to him & spoke (somewhat) kindly to him, but it was in an effort to manipulate him. Despite being aware of this, Vlad's deep-seated desire for his father's approval tends to make him crave even that small amount of semi-positive attention from the man & it puts him on the opposite side of the twins.

On the other hand, Vlad's mother, Katerina Romanov-Masters, is the exact opposite. She was the sister to the now dead Dairy King, coming from a generations-long Wisconsin dairy fortune. She is a skilled dairy maid & has a way with cows.

Her hair is chestnut brown, her eyes hazel, & she has a slight tan from working outside with the cows.

Katerina is very sweet & loving, demure, maternal to a fault, emulating a picture perfect housewife & is not even remotely ashamed of it. She adores her son & dotes on him. She is proud of her femininity in a way that not many other women are these days.

She is Catholic & very devoted while Manfred is only Catholic by inheritance, truly being an aethiest & nihilistic, scorning religion of any kind, believing such people who believe in any higher power to be delusional & that Jung's study of religion's effect on psychology to have been a scam. As such, Vlad is very torn theologically.

Katerina's marriage to Manfred was an arranged one. She had hoped that they could learn to love each other, & in some ways, she did love the man, but he neglected, dismissed, & emotionally abused her as well. He wasn't normally physically abusive, but when he was in an especially bad mood & she did something wrong in his eyes, he would hurt her. If it were just her he mistreated, she'd simply endure it, but she did not abide by how he treated her son. Whenever she could, she would try to deflect Manfred's attention from their son, but she wasn't always there to prevent it.

She loves being a mother & it is quite obvious that she was born for the role. More than anything, she wished for a whole hoard of children of her own, but she miscarried her second child & it caused complications that left her all but barren. She developed depression as a result & ever since, she had a tendency to drink her sorrows away at her lowest points.

She loves to bake with Vlad & he loves it back. Katerina was the one who taught him to play the piano. He's the light of her life & she wants him to grow up happy & healthy & to find the loving family that he couldn't with her & his father.

While she was never told by Vlad of his condition, she figures it out on her own & while she had a bit of a mental breakdown at the fact that her son had died & been brought back to life as a half-ghost being, she loves him nonetheless. He was still her little boy.

As is probably obvious, Vlad develops a crush on Dina, but honestly doesn't know what to do about it. He's never really been genuine or shown vulnerability to anyone but his mother, so the idea of doing so with someone else, even a girl he likes, is daunting to him & causes anxiety.

Despite this, he's actually super jealous of the twins. They are like him, but their parents obviously love both them & each other, their mother is happy & adores their father, they have a sister that frets over them, & friends that support them. He wants that. More than anything.

Even still, Dina steadily becomes his first & only real friend.

Part of Vlad's struggle will be in watching his ghost half become more & more ghostly as he does more terrible things for his father. Even beginning to enjoy it to a degree, then feeling guilty for it.

At some point, his skin begins to take on a teal tinge, the tips of his fingers & toes blacken as if burned or frostbitten, it crawls up his fingers the less he cares about right & wrong. Finally, his irises turn burgundy, like wine, before sometimes briefly changing to blood red when he does something particularly wretched for his own benefit & without his father's input. Typically, he feels pretty rotten afterwards which returns them to burgundy. If it ever gets to the point where he no longer cares, does it anyway, & doesn't feel bad about it afterwards, his eyes will remain red. If he ever loses control of his Obsession or loses his mind, the red will consume his eyes entirely like in canon.

When Halfa Puberty hits, it gets even worse with his claws coming in, his tongue reshaping into that of a snake's (making it difficult to speak & he has a bit of a lisp in ghost form for a while), his ears stretching into points (making him more sensitive to sound by enhancing his hearing), & his pupils slit (enhancing his vision, but also forcing him to adjust to bright lights).

He also struggles with feeding his vampiric cravings, both for human blood & core-plasm. It scares him & he worries that he's become a monster.

Manfred builds spybots to, ya know... spy on the Fentons. After the events of the first Freakshow encounter, which he saw through the bots, he is able to recover a shard of red obsidian from the broken staff & has it fastened to a gothic, black steel ring with a bat design. He keeps it on him in case his son ever gets out of line.

It has a much more limited use than the staff did. Only able to control one ghost at a time & via his experimentations, he learns that it's best used subtly.

If he tried to take full control of a ghost all at once, they'd notice & if their will/sense of self-identity was strong enough, they'd be able to break free of it. As such, it was best used slowly over time & little by little, starting with small & simple commands.

He wishes that he had managed to recover a larger piece so that he could try & take control of those meddlesome twins, but alas.

---

While this Vlad has as much potential to become bi as all my other interpretations of him, it's unlikely that he will ever experience a man in any capacity whether romantic or sexual as he'll have found his match early in life. See, no matter what, I see him as heteroromantic even when he is bisexual.

For one, he's only 14 & only knows that he's 'supposed' to be attracted to girls, which he is. In this way, he hasn't even registered guys as a possibility. See the only reason any of my other Vlads had begun to percieve men in a sexual light was due to workplace corruption where his superiors had him service them for promotions.

Once he does get into business, he'll already be in a steady, married relationship with Dina & he'd be appalled at the very idea of so much as touching anyone else in such a manner.

See, Vlad is extremely monogamous in nature & he gets very invested in any relationship he persues. So, he'd never do anything to jeopardize what he has with Dina.

Even if he did develop an awareness of men in such a capacity, it wouldn't matter because he'd never want to persue them. It'd simply be in the way that one admires someone who is attractive. An acknowledgement that they are physically appealing, but no more.

---

By Kindred Spirits, Manfred knows about the twins being halfas & though Vlad swears that he didn't know, Manny is suspicious. Being a scientist himself, though one that has a tendency to take credit for other people's work, he knows just enough to copy Lex Luthor's work with Superboy & make the technology compatible with ectoplasm. (I'm thinking of making him a member of either The Light or the Illuminati, albeit a low-level member. Either way, it's through a twisted sense of thinking himself superior to others & the belief that the masses can't be trusted to think for themselves. He's a huge effing fascist.)

It isn't until Ellie that Manny figures that going about things at least somewhat naturally would make for the greatest success. So, he uses the pod to mix Dina's DNA with Vlad's. This makes her 100% stable.

However, Manfred does not name any of the clones. Instead, he numbers them; VD-001 through VD-004.

Instead of treating them like his children, he vivisects them each to try & learn what makes them tick. He figures that he can't experiment on either Vlad or the twins as that'd draw too much attention.

However, there's no reason to look for someone that doesn't exist.

Vlad is completely unaware of all this until, one night, he finds the cloning room & sees VD-003 & VD-004, Ellie, being made in the pod. At first, he thinks, or at least hopes, that his father is making him siblings because his mother had wanted more children for a long, long time.

All during their incubation, Vlad would come in every night to talk to their sleeping forms. He never really pays any mind to the many jars full of body parts & organs around the room.

Then, one night, he walks in to find VD-003 gone & even more jars than normal. He realizes what's happening & looses his shit. Vlad falls on the floor & begins to hyperventilate until he processes what's happened & when he does, he realizes that he can't be the one to save Eleanor, which was what he'd been calling VD-004. Panicking, he makes a decision & for the first time in his life, he does something to directly sabotage his father; he leaves his home to go to Amity Park & beg the twins to save her.

At first, Danny doesn't believe anyone could be quite so disgusting & is very suspicious of Vlad, but Dina knows that he would never make something like this up.

They fly there & the twins save a 3 year old looking VD-004 who is very confused by everything & doesn't even know how to speak yet. When asked what her name was, Vlad replied Eleanor.

Now, by this point, Ultimate Enemy has happened & the rest of the Fentons know about the twins being halfas. So, when the twins told them what happened, they immediately welcome her into their family.

I'll expand on this later.

Phantom Twins AU Masterlist

[maxwell-grant]

Who's your favorite Batman villain?

The Penguin. Was gonna put off this ask for a bit but I got surprised today with an incredible rendition of him, so now the dastardly bumbershoot waddled and squawked his way into my thoughts again and I gotta talk about him.

Penguin's not just my favorite Batman villain, he's my favorite DC character and comic book supervillain, the main reason I even want to write a Batman story someday.

I love the imagery that surrounds him, the trick umbrellas and the birds he so lovely dotes after and the WAKs and the Iceberg Lounge, which has become maligned in recent years as a sign of his downfall, but I very much appreciate as a concept in general still. I love a lot of the performances and actors who've taken him over the years. Burgess Meredith and Danny DeVito are some of my favorite performers of all time, Paul Williams has a wonderful voice and starred in my favorite film of all time. Tom Kenny, David Ogden Stiers, Robin Lord Taylor, Penguin's just had such great, terrific performances and adaptations. Batman Returns is my favorite Batman film by far and it was what got me to start paying more attention to Oswald.

I love the roles he can play in any given Batman story and how he's managed to endure all of his falls from grace by becoming an indispensable part of Batman's worldbuilding. I love his varied dynamics with Batman and Riddler and Catwoman and Gordon and his henchmen and those who get close to him. I love his style and the way he conducts himself when he's allowed to be more than just a generic mob boss. Penguin's design has, by simply staying unchanged over the decades, gone from "common rich person wear draped over a funny cartoon gangster" to "he is so out of touch and desperate for respectability that he dresses like an 1930s capitalist caricature, like a little kid's idea of what a rich and respectable man looks like, and Penguin's still stuck in that mindset". I love how absurd and plausible he is.

I like that Penguin can very easily fit just about any kind of Batman story, from the campy supervillain plots to the gritty urban crime ones. You can tell stories about Penguin falling in love, pretending to be legit because he doesn't want his aunt to learn he's a criminal, and opening up a comedy act with a talking penguin, or stories about Penguin terrorizing the city with giant robots and guided missiles and driving people to suicide. I like that he's a character who both relishes in his lifestyles of supervillain and crimelord alike, and yet is perpetually restless because the minute he acquires what he wants, he immediately starts wanting something else. He could have Batman and the Batfamily and all other supervillains wiped out and have Gotham in his pocket and maybe even become President of the United States, and he'd still want more. Because Oswald is nothing but wants, the wants of a traumatized manchild in a funny costume throwing money and toys and brute force and tantrums at the world until it makes sense, which only makes him far too fitting as a Batman villain.

Everyone forgets that Penguin was canonically the first villain to ever successfully escape Batman at the end of a story, completely bypassing the usual "villain swears revenge behind bars" ending to instead escape scot-free, and went on to establish himself as one of his biggest, most inventive and most cunning villains, second only, if not equal, to Joker. I love that he's ruthless and inventive and classy and cunning and brutal and how his main trick is using the fact that everyone underestimates the short fat man to his advantage. He's taken traits that got many of us in real life relentlessly tormented for them, and he uses them to pull the wool over those who think they are better than him.

It'ss a trick that works because even in real life people can't stop looking at this weird and silly little man and think "that guy's too silly for a Batman villain, he's not a murder clown or musclebound monster, what's he gonna do" and, yeah, that's the point, that's been the point from day one, he doesn't look scary or intimidating or even that evil, and he's the guy who pulls the rug under supergenius fighting machine Batman and becomes the top crimelord of Gotham City, a city ruled by terrors and manias and monsters infinitely bigger and scarier and stronger than he is, and he STILL made it to the top and he STILL maintains it, time and time again even when newer and flashier and scarier villains come and go. Batman is, at it's core, a fundamentally absurd character, and Penguin acts as a reminder of that. Because the minute we accept a man can terraform himself with training and money into a living legend on the level of gods, there's no reason why a tiny fat man with similar drive and resources can't likewise throw his weight with monsters and warriors far above his station.

Despite how ridiculously often he's disrespected by writers and fans alike, how far he's fallen off his former position in Batman's Rogues Gallery, and how often he's used as just a punching bag for assorted Bat-people, Penguin never goes away. He's the biggest survivor of all of Batman's villains, more so than the genuinely immortal ones, because he's the cockroach that won't go away no matter how many times you flush it.

Because once you get past the piles of money and the lounge fortresses and the armies of goons and the piles of cartoony gadget toys not too dissimilar from Batman's own, what the Penguin has is brains, and spite and hatred on a scale no other Batman villain has. He hates Batman, because Batman is nothing but yet another bully who thinks he can push Oswald around just because he's bigger and stronger. He hates the lower class for it's unsophisticated brutes and boors that made his childhood hell. He hates the upper class that's rejected and also tormented him since infancy, that he desperately spent so long trying to be a part of. He hates the monsters and supervillains he works with and has to associate with to stay alive. He hates the city that he fights to rule over tooth and nail.

And although he may never admit it, he hates himself, because he'a short paunchy man with a beakish nose who's brutal and immoral not just because those are the cards life dealt him, but because he likes what it affords him too much to give it away. Because he's never going to have the love and acceptance he desperately craves, he will never be able to accept it or keep it. Because he can never fully be a gentleman, or a monster, but instead a sad mix who belongs in neither of their worlds. Because at the end, he doesn't look like anyone else. He looks like one of him.

And still, I like Penguin because he's a Gentleman Villain. The one Gentleman Villain of Batman's rogues gallery, even if that's faded from a lot of his recent appearences that pushed the crimelord aspects to the forefront. He dresses like a gentleman thief, he's canonically a huge A.J Raffles fan, he's one of the most cunning brains of Gotham, he's got the money, resources, and adventurous spirit. Problem is, he's The Penguin. And suddenly, all that he has becomes overblown, outlandish, theatrical, and out of touch purely because it's him trying to do all those things. He's a gentleman adventurer gone rogue, the Count Fosco of the DCU, and that only makes it amusing, even endearing, when Penguin does engage in the swashbuckling antics he's so fond of.

When all his plans go to hell and so he starts fencing Batman, or when he commands henchmen with superflous fancy language, or even when Oswald gives the whole "hero" thing a shot and we see he's actually not bad at it, maybe he actually could have been one if it wasn't for the bile drowning his heart and the hellscape that warped innocent young Cobblepot into Gotham's Penguin, a name that immediately denotes something silly and ridiculous, and he carries it with pride, because he will make you respect that name.

And that's just a couple of reasons. I really, really love this character to the point of obsession and the main reason why I ever wanted to write stories for DC was to get to write Penguin and at least try to do the character a little more justice. But if nothing else, Penguin endures, regardless of what happens to him, in and out of universe. If nothing else, that's a very admirable quality in a supervillain. Oswald is the best.

[cerebrumrott]

Obey Me! Shall we Date?

Brothers x MC

Synopsis: Demon Form Head Canons

Lucifer

Is not shy about sharing his demon form in the slightest.

More than happy to show off his wings for you and every compliment and awed look you give him just strokes his pride.

He gets taller in his demon form, not by more than a few inches but its enough to have you craning your neck to look him in the eyes.

His horns are not nearly as sensitive as some of his brothers but he still quite enjoys when you pet them.

Specifically likes it when the base of his horns are scratched, he could just melt into your hands.

His wings are prone to molting when he is stressed and seeing as he is stressed almost all the time. It's fairly common to find black feathers around the house.

When Lucifer later finds out that you had been collecting his discarded feathers in a small vase in your room he can’t help the blush on his cheeks having forgotten the entire reason he went into your room in the first place.

Seeing as you are so entranced by his feathers you might as well help him preen when he is molting.

It is totally cause he wants you to just have a nice collection, not because its a massive boost to his ego to have you doting over him.

Straighten his tie and flatten out his collar. Even if it doesn't need it. These little gestures will leave him flustered and blushing.

Mammon

His horns, due to their peculiar shape, are extremely sensitive. To the point where just blowing on them sends a tremble racing down his spine.

Pressing a finger between the grooves or into the center of the horn's spiral will have him practically howling from the sensation or more accurately leave him a stuttering and flustered mess.

Despite being essentially shirtless in his demon form. Mammon is like a walking heater. Just standing next to him for too long can cause you to break into a sweat.

If you were to ever trace the white lines that cover his torso he would just stop functioning entirely.

He would of course vehemently deny any such claims stating that, he was simply… thinking… about things… shut up.

Mammon is also extremely ticklish and with so much exposed skin from his questionable choice in a shirt. Do with that what you will ;)

His wings are restless, always flickering, fluttering or some variation of the two.

The only time they had ever truly stilled was when Mammon had agreed to let you touch them for the first time. In that moment as you ever so carefully ran your hands over the thin membrane of the wings, they didn't so much as twitch under the touch.

While his wings aren't necessarily sensitive to touch they are slightly delicate, being as they are made from a thin leathery membrane.

Leviathan

He also gets taller in his demon form by a few inches. Though due to his terrible posture you are likely to not notice.

He regularly sheds his antlers each year and grows back new ones.

He used to be extremely self conscious while his antlers regrew due to teasing from his brothers but after hearing how much you liked them they were now a point of pride for him.

I can also totally see an MC who collects his shed antlers like, it's 2 am and Levi texts them like ""Hey normie you want my old antlers I know you asked about them before so...""

Leviathan would get such an ego boost from it though. His face growing reed each time he walks into your room to see his old antlers nestled about the shelves like decor.

His tail also sheds its skin every so often (like a reptile would) another reason as to why he is always showering or taking a bath.

On that same thought, Levi has to take daily soaks in either the shower or tub to keep his skin from drying out or getting irritated. Being in the sun for too long can also irritate his skin.

Uses this as an excuse to not go outside despite there being no sun in the Devildom.

Both his horns and his tail are rather sensitive to touch. Though he loves the idea of you petting them his self consciousness prevents him from ever initiating such a thing.

The markings on the side of his neck are also highly sensitive. Running a hand or dragging your nails over them sends shivers down his spine every time.

Satan

Not only does he get taller but he also physically bulks up in his demon form. Its hardly noticeable under the sweater and boa he wears but on close inspection you can see the defined lines of his muscles straining under the fabric.

Similar to Lucifer, his horns are not all that sensitive. Though the area where they connect to his head are very mush so.

Satan is not shy in the slightest about asking MC to pet his head when he is in a bad mood and needs someone to stop him from doing something potentially stupid.

Satan often subconsciously purrs when he is happy or content.

This habit may have stemmed from his obsession with cats

His tail for the most part is hard and senseless, though the green end is softer and more pliable like cartilage. It is also extremely sensitive to both touch and temperature.

This is why he keeps his tail wrapped around his leg to protect it from being accidentally trampled on or whacked.

Since his tail extends from his lower back rather than the base of his spine the exposed skin surrounding the base of his tail is extremely sensitive and ticklish.

Asmodeus

Asmo of course loves any kind of affection, especially if it is coming from you of all people.

The tips of his horns that are pink in hue are extremely sensitive to touch. He is not shy about asking you to touch him obviously but you would note that he does get extremely flustered when you do so without having to be asked.

Asmo will just melt into your touch if you walk up to him and just randomly cup his face or pet his horns.

When he is especially flustered the pink hue of his horns will even darken

His wings are velvety and soft to the touch. He loves to have kisses pressed to the soft membrane of the wings.

The easiest way to turn him to putty in your hands is to go straight for his wings. They are his weak spot.

It's really little affectionate things that get him going. Adjusting the metal chain of his scorpion brooch, pushing a stray piece of his bangs back into place, even something as simple as picking a piece of lint off of his jacket has him beaming with affection.

I don't see Asmo as getting to experience these little things as often as the more prominent things that come with his sin. So when you go out of your way to make sure he does get to experience these little things he falls hard and fast.

Beelzebub

He physically bulks up when he transforms. If you thought he was shredded normally wait till you see him in demon form.

His horns are extremely sensitive, almost like little antennas. Turns into the biggest puppy when you rubs his horns. Just all smiles and happiness from him.

Sometimes he will even rub your cheeks together so his horns brush against your hair.

He is a bit hesitant when it comes to his wings being touched just because of their nature. It's not that he doesn't trust you it’s just when he gets excited he unconsciously buzzes his wings.

If he were to catch his wing on your hand and rip it he would feel bad for making you think you hurt him. In reality it does not hurt him all that much, akin to like a paper cut or bad scratch.

Beel is really just a big push over for you, scratch him behind the horns and he will just become the biggest lap dog.

Belphegor

His horns and tail are not sensitive but that doesn't mean he doesn't want you to pet him.

After he falls asleep to you petting his horns one afternoon he now demands that you do this at least once a week. If you don't he will bother you until you cave to his wishes.

Also loves to have the fluff of his tail brushed / petted, although he would never admit it outright. His brothers already think he is spoiled so how would they react to knowing he has you pampering him each week? Braiding his tail hair and brushing out the tangles while he snoozes.

On the rare occasions he can’t sleep or when he is awakened from a nightmare he will seek you out and ask you to pet him so he can get to sleep. There are many mornings you will wake up and just find Belphie in bed next to you curled around his pillow with his face buried in your shoulder.

He promises to pay you back later though. Totally...

The cow spots on his neck are extremely ticklish, to the point he borderline passes out from wheezing so hard when Beel tickles him there.

Bonus:

Diavolo

He is much, much larger in his demon form than he is when he appears as human. He is normally tall but like this he is borderline massive.

He tends to keep his wings folded into his sides due to their large span. Though is more than happy to show them off to you when prompted.

They are thick and velvety to the touch, the metallic jewelry that covers the tops of them a cold contrast to the warm skin.

He adores any kind of attention from you, more than content to sit and chatter about whatever comes to his mind as you sit beside him or stop him petting his wings.

He bent down once so you could see his horns and as a joke lifted you off the ground while you were holding onto them. He laughed so hard you thought he was going to drop you on your ass.

His horns are not sensitive in the slightest, hence why he has no problems with decorating them with tight metal pieces akin to a piercing on a person.

Diavolo is a super loving guy normally and this holds true to when he is in his demon form. So whenever he gives you a hug you end up smothered in his pecs. Not that your complaining.

Barbatos

Barbatos would never say it aloud but he very much enjoys when you spend time just running your fingers ever so softly over his horns. Their unique shape and varied textures can leave you entertained for what feels like hours but in reality you love the soft expressions you can pull out of the normally stoic butler.

Loves having soft kisses pressed to the joints of his horns.

His tail is his one weak spot as once one learns what certain movements mean. You can always tell how he is feeling.

The unbridled joy you feel well in your heart when his tail begins to curl up upon seeing you letting you know he is feeling the same way has you biting your lip to hold yourself back from running into his arms.