#or what I've written or

[hiddenbysuccubi]

I'm a Slave To The Narrative Always

[ronanlynchbf]

tshirt that says NO LIVE ORGANISM CAN CONTINUE FOR LONG TO EXIST SANELY UNDER CONDITIONS OF ABSOLUTE REALITY

[epiaphany]

What do you think it is? The secret to happiness?

[heartmaddie]

ISAGI YOICHI was already enamoured from just the soft pink blush which glazed your cheeks, fingers wrapped around a small plastic bag as he looked down at you in surprise. Not once in his sixteen years of living had he ever received something on this somewhat momentous day, besides from a few mindless sweets from a classmate. So he was quite surprised when the person he had been secretly plotting on was standing right in front of him, heart bared to him and all.

His eyes flickered between your nervous expression and the high-quality handmade chocolates which were enveloped between your shaking fingers. A small smile found its way onto his lips, eyes crinkled endearingly as he let out a small chuckle, catching your attention. 

He took the pink plastic bag into his own hands, admiring the sprinkle ridden sweets which it cased. He had already seen the candy which you had given to your classmates, a mere comparison to the ones he withheld now. It was cute - how every detail was perfected, down to the placement of a pearl-like sprinkle. 

“Isagi, I-” You stop yourself. Lips stuttered open and close, blush only deepening once his lips pulled into a smirk. 

He let his head cock to the side, watching you with a curious eye as you fumbled over your words, over his name, unable to compose the jumble of thoughts running through your head. He took a step forward as your eyes trailed down to the floor again, fingers fiddling with the sleeves of your white uniform.

Honestly, he wanted to hear your confession fall from pink lips more than he’d like to imagine, which is why he found himself tugging you a bit closer, leaning into your ear to whisper,

“You were saying?”

He could almost feel the fire which seeped from your cheeks, finding seclusion pressed against his chest. Your face, flushed a pretty shade of burgundy, looked up at him curiously, somewhat surprised at the almost intimate arm he wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. 

Isagi had decided that, if you weren’t going to say it, then he would.

“Do you like me too?” He mumbled softly, fingers brushing against your shirt-clothed arm as he tugged you closer. You nodded, and he pressed his lip together tightly, suppressing a sweet sound which threatened to bubble out of his throat. He was so captivated by everything about you, how you melted so perfectly against him.

Maybe that’s why he found himself the next month, spending tireless hours tempering his own rich, delicate bonbons with a perfectly arranged bouquet of your favourite florals, sitting opulent, on the counter nearby.

©heartmaddie all rights reserved. please do not repost my work.

taglist

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link to join taglists

[vaguely-concerned]

My two cents on how much of Mind!Varric is Rook’s mind trying to fill the blank space and how much is Solas actively talking through a convenient blood magic paper doll of the mind: I think it's a mix of both, a truly collaborative psychosocial horrorshow if you would, but waaaay more towards the second. It feels too directed and tactical at times to be anything else. Rook's mind is willing to go along with the denial phase as far as it can fucking carry them to not have to face the grief and regret and does its part in papering over details that don’t make any sense, the way brains will strive to create coherent meaning even out of deeply confusing input, but to my understanding it's a collaborateur in how that plays out, not the instigator or control center. Solas is using it as a path to agency and to gather insight into Rook as a person unguarded as he can't count on in his own guise. (That stoic option that leads to him being like 'oh I see you're cautiously denying me access to your inner life. well. at least you still have Varric to talk to. y'know as an outlet :)'. You absolute BITCH Solas! That alone convinced me that he HAS to have an active hand in it on some level.)

My guess is that it takes considerable effort on Solas’ part to make Mind!Varric do anything more involved or complicated than seeming to sit up in bed and give casual commentary, and that’s why he keeps having eerie five minute shallow pep talks with you before he announces he conveniently needs a nap aaanyway good luck kid you got this haha. When he’s just spouting NPC lines from his bedrest, I’m ready to believe that could be Rook’s mind being allowed to improv lines for him more freely because it’s less about Solas trying to get something out of them or working an angle and more ‘Still here! Still totally alive and fine and the mentor figure you know and love and trust :) don’t even worry about it! Thankfully there is no war in Ba Sing Sei, as we all know’ upkeep work lol. Rook’s mind is allowed to set the tone of Varric, the outlines, but not always the content. 

AND, on a (beautifully fucked up) character psychology level, I feel like Solas is indulging in actually getting to be the good supportive mentor figure to Rook with one hand to assuage the guilt he feels about what he's done -- and what he's going to do -- to them with the other. Same internal logic as he uses in Trespasser about the Qun. ‘Almost everyone is going to die from the course of action I’m doggedly pursuing eventually. But at least I can make their last years happier and freer and kinder than they would have been otherwise. and that kind of makes up for it right. a little bit. doesn't it. doesn't that make it better at least. I need that to make it better)'. Did I really take your beloved mentor and friend from you if you don’t know yet that I did? Some philosophers would argue not really! So it’s probably almost ok actually. Isn’t it even a little noble that I’m taking all this grief and guilt on myself and shielding you for now. With undertones that I’m not sure he would realize himself (and might be mortified by if he did) that he is so incredibly lonely, and even a dishonest and indirect emotional connection is more than nothing when you’re that desperate. In this setup he gets idk. Both the control he craves so incredibly badly in relationships and over himself, and the scraps, the fading afterimages, of intimacy and warmth and companionship, even second hand. The one thing Solas and Rook agree on deep deep down is that they really wish Varric weren't gone. They're handshake memeing this in the saddest and most creepy way possible.

I think an important element too is that Solas needs Rook and their team to *succeed* —  up to a certain point. He needs someone to hold the two other elven mean girls off until he can get out of here. Ideally, in a perfect world, even do all the hard work of killing them so he can swoop in at the end and do his thing when both sides are exhausted and out of resources to stop him, and then Bob’s your uncle! Same logic as he was using with Corypheus, and after that worked out so well, too! King of choosing to never learn from a single solitary mistake he’s ever made even though i fully believe he could have the capacity to Fen’Harel <3 The underlying idea isn’t flawed, you see, it was just unforeseen circumstances getting in the way. This time for sure it’ll all work out the way I cleverly imagined it in my head beforehand. Cue By Talos this can’t be happening etc. in the form of a statue almost crushing him like a bug. 

So he's providing guidance and forging Rook into a leader from two angles: one Rook might not trust, and one they probably will. Shaping them into what he needs slowly and carefully. He’s helping you hone your team into their most effective state, as he might have done with his own agents back in the day, setting up his chess pieces even if he has to squint through two glimpsed realities to do it haha. Pincer maneuver of an insidious stealth mentor you never asked for. Also… at one point mind Varric gives you a whole little monologue about how Solas' problem is that he’s always seen his interpersonal connections as flaws and see where it’s landed him, all alone and the worst part? it hasn’t even worked. it’s all been for nothing he’s back where he began with nothing to show for it but his mistakes. Like...that has such strong 'uh okay happy to play your therapist from two rooms away here what the fuck kind of traumadump is this' energy to me, I’m not sure Rook like. Thinks that much about Solas as a private person. So much of Solas' self-loathing and futile insights into his own flaws seem to shine through in Mind!Varric's dialogue all the time — I just can't believe that there's no guiding hand behind it as it were. 

Most of all. I feel like people underestimate the degree to which Solas is incredibly funny. As in, he has a very consistent and recognizable sense of humour. It’s one of my very favourite things about him. We must remember — it is crucial that we always keep in mind — Orlesian accent and wig Solas from May The Dread Wolf Take You (my beloved, the explanation for why I love this dude even with the. All of the everything else. No one does it quite like him). He is not at all above doing things or adding little flourishes for his own obscure amusement, in fact that seems to me to be one of his most consistent traits. The Randy Dowager Quarterly comment Varric has? The ‘Maybe this is the Dread Wolf’s revenge. Forcing us to house sit for him’ thing? To Me this is 100% Solas amusing himself in his boring Fade jail surrounded by the screaming hellscape of all his regrets. Source: it came to me as divine revelation through pure vibes trust me bro 

If nothing else I find it much more narratively interesting personally if the connection between Rook and Solas really is that defenselessly intimate and entwined (and so unbalanced!), and the sense of violation and invasion and betrayal afterwards consequently all the more nauseatingly intense. Even if you kept him at arm’s length in the open, he’s been under your skin the whole time, looking around, gathering what he needs to destroy you, wearing the face of a friend. Regretfully, probably, but choosing to do it every step of the way anyway. (Sound familiar, Inquisitor? Solas doesn’t have that many tricks when you actually look at it, he keeps returning to old tried and true ones like a dog with a bone haha.) Maybe he even genuinely meant some of it as mercy, which only makes it so much worse. It makes his sin against his own core principles of autonomy and the freedom of all beings in mind, spirit and body so much more juicily grave if it’s something he pursues actively and consistently, rather than it half-falling into his lap as a happy accident mainly orchestrated by Rook’s own subconscious. Solas, too, is at his very lowest point, the closest to giving in and becoming his own antithesis fully that he’s ever been, and it makes the choice of whether you still reach out your hand to him one last time or not all the more impactful and difficult.

[moonmunson]

pas de deux

to the anon that requested this, i know this isn't exactly what you asked for, but inspiration struck. i hope you like it.

cw: wally certified yearner and loverboy, me not knowing how to describe dancing, allusions to reader being murdered in a very traumatic way by her dance partner but no specifics, sfw

wc: 3k

Wally knows that what he’s attempting to do is misguided at best, and probably disastrous at worst. 

The idea came to him a few weeks ago. He’d been sitting with Charley and Rhonda, shooting the shit in the gymnasium before their meeting with Mr. Martin, when he’d asked, “Is it possible to break a ghost out of their loop?” 

To Charley’s credit, he’d attempted to take the question seriously. Rhonda had just rolled her eyes, removing the ever present lollipop from her mouth before interrupting.

“Again with this? Come on, loverboy. Not gonna happen.” 

Charley sighed, tutting at Rhonda before turning back to Wally, a sympathetic look on his face, “There’s always a chance it could work, but if you’re talking about who we think you’re talking about, I’d say they’re pretty slim.” 

“More than slim, I’d say,” Rhonda butts in again, “I’m surprised she hasn’t worn a hole through the floor, with the way she dances. Like a ballerina in a music box.” She spins her lollipop through the air, follows it with her eyes before shoving it back into her mouth. 

“Have I ever told you your attitude is annoying?” Wally asked, sinking back into his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, ignoring the scoff from Rhonda’s direction, “I’m just saying. We’ve never even tried. What if she’s like, aware in there, like in her mind.” He reaches up to run a hand through his hair - a nervous tick he hadn’t lost, even in death. 

“Does it matter? She’s still stuck here like the rest of us. Better to spend eternity dancing than dealing with the banalities of high school.” 

Mr. Martin walked in then, effectively ending the conversation. Through the whole meeting, Wally couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d seen you in the auditorium before, looping over and over, stuck in an endless dance for two but lacking a partner. It’s a rare thing for a ghost to act the way you do - there haven’t really been any other deaths at the school that were traumatic enough to warrant a loop like yours, and he’d been determined to break you out of it. Screw Rhonda, he’d thought. He could do it, he just needed to figure out how. 

The problem was, Wally knew nothing about dancing. He's not the smartest guy. He knows that, but he’d been brainstorming different ways to break you out of your loop for a while now, with nothing to show for it. It’d been grating heavily on his nerves.

In a moment he’d regrettably look back on, he’d gone so far as to join you on stage to attempt a fake out. When he’d lunged at you, and you hadn’t even blinked in his direction, he started to think Rhonda was right. You couldn’t see him, you couldn’t hear him. You were stuck up there, doomed to spin around the stage for God knows how long and there was nothing he could do about it. 

Then one day, something really fucking weird had happened. 

—

He’d taken to sitting in the audience, to watch you dance. It was weird, more than a little morbid and slightly obsessive, but watching you move was captivating to him. 

He found some similarities between dancing and playing football - the finesse needed to dodge and weave through people trying to tackle him was one thing - but he’d never seen anyone move the way you do. Every move you made had purpose. The lines created by your arms and legs, the softness with which you carried yourself from one end of the stage to the other. 

Preoccupied with the pressures his mom applied to him, the weight of the world on his shoulders, he’d never taken an interest in dancing, other than the awkward slow side to side swaying he’d done with his Junior year girlfriend at the prom. Now, he wishes he could dance with you - wishes you could teach him to move like you do. 

You’re stuck there, like a spinning top that refuses to fall - unable to fall. Except, as he was watching you, something unthinkable happened. 

You were looking at him. Like, looking straight at him. 

It took him more than a few seconds to realize what was happening, and even then he couldn’t believe it. Charley had talked to him about dancers having a spot to look at when they’re spinning - how it keeps them from falling over, keeps them from becoming dizzy and messing up. Was it possible Wally just happened to be in the seat you used as a spot? 

He couldn’t tell if there was recognition in your eyes, if you were really looking at him or seeing right through him, the way a living person would. But your gaze was fixated on him either way. And your face, it… you just looked so sad. If he didn’t know better, Wally would’ve thought your expression was pleading, looking for help. It only lasted a few seconds, before you turned your head in a different direction and your body followed. It sent him reeling. 

He found Charley and Rhonda in the library, and told them what happened. Charley sat up in his chair, struggling to understand what he meant. 

“What do you mean she looked at you?” 

Wally went to explain it to them again, hoping they’d believe this was out of the norm, “I mean she looked at me, dude. She was up there spinning like she always is, and I was just sitting there watching -” 

“You were watching her? Voyeurism doesn’t suit you, loverboy.” Rhonda’s arms were crossed over her chest, legs folded over each other - closed off, like she always is. 

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Wally sighed, exasperated, “It was weird. At first I thought she was using me to spot, while she was twirling, but the way her face looked? I don’t know, dude. It was just weird.” 

“There’s a chance she was looking at you, don’t you think? We don’t really know how looping works, so,” Charley’s endless kindness is a relief to Wally - especially when he says things like, “I think it’s good, what you’re doing. I wish we could help more.” Charley looks over in Rhonda’s direction, nudging her to say something to Wally. 

“Yeah. As much as I give you flack for it, your whole -” Rhonda waves a hand in Wally’s general direction, “boy savior thing, I do wish there was something we could do for her. It sucks. Not having a partner to dance with.” There was a glint of remorse in Rhonda’s eye, more than Wally ever thought he’d see from her. 

A spark lights up in Wally’s head, a hidden spotlight finding its mark onstage  - landing on you, your flawless form.

“Do you think if I dance with her, that it could break the loop?” Wally asks, looking back and forth between his two friends. 

“It’s definitely worth a shot,” Charley shrugs, gaze turning to his left, “Rhonda? What do you think?” 

The beatnik pauses for a second, long enough for them to see the cogs turning in her brain. 

“Look, I’m not saying it’ll work. Probably won’t. But maybe,” Wally starts to smile, “Just maybe, if you try to connect with her on her terms, instead of trying to force some logic onto the situation, something might change.” 

“I don’t know how to dance, though. I don’t even know where to start.” Wally drops his head in his hands, shoulders hunched over. Charley reaches over, splays a hand on Wally’s back and rubs back and forth. 

“Think of it like football maybe? You’ve got your plays, right?” Wally nods, sitting up and urging Charley to continue, “Those are like the steps. Formations could be the positions you take, and in dancing, timing is everything. The same way it is in football, at least from what I’ve gathered of the rants you go on. Rhonda’s right. Maybe if you learn how she moves, you can try communicating with her that way.” 

Wally sits up, throwing his arms around his two friends, ignoring Rhonda attempting to push him away before jumping up from his spot on the couch. He nearly trips over himself to sprint out of the room and down the hall, towards the auditorium, shouting “Thank you!” behind him. 

—

Wally stood in the echoing auditorium, the stage lights illuminating the otherwise dark room. Every day for the past week, he’d come to you - trying to decipher a language he did not speak. He watched you, trapped in your endless pas de deux. Gliding through the same steps, turns, your desperate yearning clear up close. 

At first, he’d just tried to mimic you. Clumsy and tripping over his own feet, he’d stumbled through the basic positions, frustrated with himself. His movements were jerky and awkward, a stark contrast to your effortless grace. He felt silly - like a hulking figure trying to copy something delicate and precise, something that took years and years of training. 

Slowly, things started to shift. He stopped just watching and copying, instead starting to feel the music that wasn’t there. He began to understand the reasoning behind your movements, the emotions they expressed. He started to see the gaps in your performance, the place where someone was supposed to fit, to complete the cycle you’d been stuck in. 

He started to see the places where he could fit. 

He wasn’t just mirroring anymore, he was learning the language. Each day he got a little closer, a little less clumsy, a little more in tune with the phantom rhythm that filled the empty auditorium. He was still a football player, and he always would be, but he was learning to use some of that training to become a dancer, too. For you. 

Wally knew this might not even work. He’d been in his head about it for a week at this point, and not even Charley or Rhonda could break him out of the loop he’d pulled himself into. He stopped going to the life support meetings in the gymnasium, much to Mr. Martin’s dismay - instead going to spend all of his free time right there next to you onstage. 

He put more effort into practicing for this than he ever did for one of his football games, a feeling of true purpose guiding his every movement. 

When the day finally came, Wally felt calm. He felt ready. 

He walked onto the stage, ready to put his rehearsing to the test. Ready to run the play, to score the winning point. You began your routine, perfect and meticulous and haunting as ever. This time, though, Wally didn’t just watch. He joined you. 

He didn’t try to lead, didn’t try to impose himself or change your dance, he simply became your partner. He matched your movements as best as he could, trying to feel his way through the dance. Trying not to be too robotic, but instead trying to move with the same empathy and yearning that he’d watched you dance with over and over. 

As you reached the point in your dance where your partner should have joined, Wally was there. He wasn’t a perfect dancer, not by any metric, but he was present. He was the missing piece. 

As your movements intertwined, a visible shift occurred. You, you who had been trapped in this endless cycle of longing, suddenly seemed to notice him. Your eyes, usually fixated on some distant point, flickered - focusing on Wally for the first time. Genuinely seeing him. Your eyes filled with tears, and as one of them dropped onto your cheek, Wally went to wipe it away. 

The music, which up until this point had only been an idea in Wally’s head, suddenly seemed to fill the auditorium, bouncing off of the walls and echoing around the two of you. Your dance became a true pas de deux, a conversation of movement and emotion. 

As the music started to slow, Wally found himself on unsure footing. He hadn’t stopped to think before about how the dance was supposed to end, but it didn’t matter. Grasping his hands in your own, taking the lead and guiding him through the end, the two of you moved in perfect harmony. Spectral echoes of each other, gazes connected and satisfaction blooming. 

The yearning in your movements softened, replaced by a sense of completion. The music faded, leaving the two of you in silence. For half a second, Wally thought you’d cross over, leaving him onstage by himself. Instead, you turned to him, a small smile gracing your lips. You didn’t fade. You were still there - as solid as he was. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, “You helped me finish.” 

Wally stood stock still, surprise still echoed on his features. He couldn’t believe he’d actually done it. You looked around the empty auditorium, eyes tracking over the seats before landing on him again, “I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited to finish that dance.” 

“I’m glad I could help you,” Wally stutters out, a pink flush on his face, “I know I’m not the best dancer.” You laugh, a sweet, girlish thing. In the five minutes that had passed since the dance finished, Wally swore he could see the weight being lifted from your chest. 

“You were perfect.” A flicker of sadness crossed your face, quickly replaced by gentle acceptance, “I… I don’t think I’m going anywhere, I’m still here, but…” you emphasized, palms open and gesturing to the stage around you, “but, I think it’s different now. I’m not stuck anymore.” 

“That’s good!” Wally’s face lit up, empathetic and gleeful. 

Your own smile brightened, affected by his sheer amount of happiness for you. You took his hand, solid and steady in yours. 

“What do I do now?” you asked, eyebrows turned up and inward, “Do ghosts sleep? I feel like I need to sleep for a month.” 

Wally giggled, leading you down the side stage steps and down the rows of seats, out of the auditorium, “We don’t need to sleep, but you can if you want to. You want me to show you my hiding space?” You nod, following him down the hallway.

When he passes the teacher’s lounge, and Charley and Rhonda see whose hand he has grasped in his, he winks at their shocked expressions before continuing down the stretch of linoleum and lockers. 

—

Life - or, afterlife, you suppose - has been weird since Wally broke you out of your loop. The first couple of days were extremely rough, spent trying to understand just how long you’d been up on that stage. A new member of Mr. Martin’s life support group, everyone has been extremely welcoming to you. 

Because ghosts don’t need to sleep, you haven't experienced any nightmares, something you’re exceedingly grateful for. Even so, you wake up from your naps feeling uneasy. Flashes of the end of your life playing in your mind, reminding you of the circumstances surrounding your death. 

You’re not ready to talk to the group about it, but Wally hasn’t left your side since he’d woken you from your reverie. You tell him about it in bits and pieces - about your dance partner, a shy, kind boy, turned cold blooded killer. The specifics of it don’t matter anyways. He can’t hurt you anymore, and according to the computers in the library, he couldn’t hurt anyone anymore -  following you into that good night soon after the police had taken him away. 

You learn that your family moved out of Wisconsin a decade ago, in an attempt to escape the media following them around and shouting questions at them, about a court case that didn’t happen because there was nobody to put on trial. You hope wherever they were, that they found some semblance of peace. 

Wally has been an incredible influence on you, and after settling into what the rest of your eternity might look like, you’ve had the same effect on him. He didn’t expect you to dance again any time soon, if ever, but he’d catch you by yourself sometimes - stretching your legs, sitting on the floor with your arms poised in that certain way. 

Then, after a year spent together going to meetings and finding hidden corners in the school to make out like true teenagers, he’d found you in Split River High’s newly minted dance room - sock covered feet gliding over the lacquered floor, hope and joy baked into your movements instead of the grief and melancholy he’d become so accustomed to in your previous routine.  

Out of the corner of your eye, when you’d seen him peeking through the window, you’d beckoned him in to join you. You started to truly teach him how to dance - guiding him through Pliés and Relevés and giggling at him when his lanky legs got in his own way. 

“You’d be better at this if you were shorter, I think,” you’d said, a smile unable to hide taking over your face, “but you look pretty good.” 

“Pretty good? These legs saved you, babe,” Wally scoffed, wiggling his toes to get you to laugh.  He always succeeded in that. 

“You’re right, you’re right,” you walked over to stand nearer to him, eyes angled upward to meet his honey brown ones, “the prince to my sleeping beauty, how could I forget?” 

“Damn straight, I’m your prince,” Wally’s warm hands grasped your cheeks, his mouth lowering to meet yours for a few seconds before gently shoving you away, “now show me how to do that thing again? I think I’m finally getting it.” 

—

Rhonda would never admit it, but she’d been especially proud of the effort Wally had put in to drag you from your loop. She knows everyone thinks she’s cold hearted, and she agrees to a certain extent, but she’d known the agony Wally felt when he thought he couldn’t help you. She’d never tell anyone this, either, but she’d snuck into the auditorium the night that he’d broken your loop - woken you up from your neverending nightmare. She’d stood alone, in the back and out of view, a smile etched on her features.

“You go, loverboy.”

a/n: tysm for this request! this was honestly the most fun i've ever had writing something. the inspiration was crazy and even though i know nothing about dancing i hope this is readable and easy to follow because i'm immensely proud of it. anon if you liked it pls lmk! I'm having such a fun time writing for wally so PLS send in any requests you have!!!

also, don't forget to like and reblog!

[cangrellesteponme]

wife

[mariyekos]

Okay to reblog to help sample size!

[r0-boat]

That time of the month guys, You know what I must do...

Whb Kings on your Period

All Kings x AFAB! reader NSFW No sex just extremely suggestive... Blame three individuals

....Wait a minute... If Lilith makes the kids does that mean demon women don't have periods? Probably looking too much into it...

Edit: This is supposed to be a fun post, But at the end of this, I went down several rabbit holes... Please don't be like me don't think 😭

Cw: mentions of pussy eating (You probably know who it is already lol), no . Suggestive,(alluding to sex on. But never happens because demons are fucking weird)

Satan

You're different somehow every month, and he can't put his finger on it. But your short-tempered rage makes him giggle like a teenager and kick his feet. You have such a low tolerance, super BS, and he loves that. And he wants to know why he never smelled this off Solomon before, so it must be you that's different. When Satan asks you, you sigh and put your hands to your mouth before giving him a 20-minute explanation.

...Holy shit? You're what now??? He thought humans creating little people it was crazy now what you're telling him is that humans have the power to shed their skin from the inside and shit it out??? Can he see it?!

... The mental image, He had and the real thing was not what he expected are you okay Oh my God there's so much again. He never wants to see that much blood come out of you ever again. The way you made this man fear more than any angel by that explanation alone. The way you have this man scampering to a human store to get whatever you ask to help ease the pain even if it's just for a little.

When he tells you that demon women don't have periods He swore your rage was emanating off you and Leviathan could probably feel you're jealousy from all the way in Hades.

Hi I think Satan using a period cramp simulator would be very funny and very entertaining...

Bonus non-cannon:

Fem!Satan: Would have the worst periods known to woman. The streets of Gehanna are deserted because the moment something slightly inconveniences her a whole building is collapsing. I wouldn't blame her, her period cramps will hurt worse than Gabriel stabbing a sword through her uterus before punching her in the gut.

Mammon

He'll buy you literally everything. It doesn't matter if you use tampons pads or cups because he's already bought everything. He's either got it from Lucifer or you made an offhand comment about it and he did his own research. He's very proud that he's prepared for his master.

Like he'll already get you everything But when you're on your period you actually have a reason to accept all his things especially if it's junk food. This is awesome! You're letting him pamper you!!! He wishes you can have periods all the time!

(one explanation later) What the fuck? Never mind. Aren't you scared of running out of blood?

He wish he could grant you something that take the way the pain and discomfort easily but Tartaros never really had that problem so they don't really have any solutions. Instead he'll just stick to spoiling you with food.

Watching Mamon's eyes go wide when he sees how much a tampon soaks up water is pretty funny.

Bonus non-cannon:

Fem!Mammon: She hates it. She hates it so much that she spends the money and resources to immediately either go to the human world or recreate a Depo shot or an implant to get rid of it. And she regularly changes it when she has to.

Leviathan

He smelled blood and he thought you were going to get killed. He was literally ready to die protecting you. He was so angry that he got worked up over nothing at first until he saw how much pain you were in.

Beelzebub

Why does your body insist on doing something that harms itself Is it stupid or is your body hating you. If you insist on being useless then you can just lay in bed!

After the initial Levi snark is gone he comes back to check on you. He actually looks really worried and thinks you might die. Freaking out frantic calls tulucifer after initial back and forth Lucifer insists that what they're feeling is normal.

All of the novels will be looking after you He doesn't want you leaving the bed just in case you might trip and die or accidentally get yourself hurt. He genuinely thinks you might die.

He will silently open your door stare at you and see if you're doing all right and then close the door, Rinse and repeat until you either yell at him ask him what he's doing. He will either respond with arguing back.

Bonus non-canon:

Fem!Leviathan: when she's on her period you literally will never see her. She's so glad She connected her bathroom too her bedroom. It's because she sheds her scales she's not joking. She actually does shed her scales on her period Will she show you fuck no. The moment she starts bleeding you're never seeing her again until she stops.

Honestly he was zoning out through half of your explanation until you mention the actual 'bleeding' process. Then you just see him lean inward putting his chin on his hands. So you're telling him... There is a way to consume you without hurting you?

This fucker has to stay away from you 10 ft away. He is SOOOO on board with eating you out. Keep Guy 10 ft away from you He would be absolutely no help except for maybe eating junk food and bringing you snacks.

He will laugh at your horrid, disgusted face because he just loves your cute little reactions. He raises his hand during the lecture on human anatomy to the Kings, and you told him to put his hand back down because you're not answering any of his batshit questions because you know it's going to be the second worst thing you've ever heard.

Bonus non-cannon:

It's okay though he'll never remember you period though he will always know because he could smell it (insert that one meme) he'll deadass forget that humans can bleed like that and occasionally get scared to smell blood on you before remembering.

He's still this day wonders about us question "if He sucks it all out Would the period be over?"

Fem! Beel: she's lost so much of her cute underwear from being forgetful. I could definitely see her getting an implant or Depo so she doesn't have to remember, but she kind of already forgets her appointments, too.

Lucifer

Human menstrual cycle...He's not stupid He was part of the creation when God made humans to breed with one another. He not only sees it as a normal thing but something special that human women have that sets them apart from demons and angels.

He doesn't understand your disgust and hatred by something explicitly given to you and all human women by God.

He offers to change your mind as he gets on his knees and you start adamantly declining and screaming. Now he really is confused....

About half of the other devils are defending your case when Lucifer brings it up at the next meeting. Though it's so split down the middle they end up discussing that topic another time.

As an 'apology' he gives you a basket with a bouquet of white lilies, painkillers and some cut fruits with card telling you to not eat unhealthy foods since it tends to make the cramps worse. And he hopes you get better.

Bonus non-cannon:

Fem!Lucifer: human female menstrual cycle yeah don't they also molt their feathers? No that's just an angel thing?? So demons also don't molt their feathers molting feathers is just an angel thing??? Other she would be super chill on her cramps, she doesn't even care.

Belphegor

The most normal, You want somewhere to rest? Lucky for you his bed is the softest in all of hell he'll make sure to take good care of you and by taking care of you he means sleeping and cuddling with you while his subordinates do all the work.

Periods actually sound like a pain in the ass He hopes he never has one You're absolutely welcome too crash at his place He understands completely about how things might be more irritating when you're constantly in pain.

Belphegor Actually really likes You're listlessness as much as he likes hard work He doesn't mind when you succumb to his sin a little bit. Especially when you're looking so cute laying on top of him. His phone screen is a picture of you smooshed against his chest with a hand on your head.

Another excuse to binge anime that he doesn't want to watch alone is a win in his book. He'll let you watch some of your favorites as well. He's not picky.

Beleth is in heaven taking care of and pampering you and his majesty. He just wish he could have you to himself for 'private' time.... menstruation? Lol a little blood isn't going to scare him.

Bonus non-cannon:

Fem!Belphegor: Nope... The last time they had their first period was when they first woke up, never again... A thousand years of menstrual pain almost put her back to sleep. Ever since she'd been dying trying to get rid of this thing causing her pain as soon as she heard Lucifer can do implants and depots She was the first one who got it. If she ever gets off at again she'll experience the same exact piercing pain she felt.... but That sounds like a problem for her future self.

Asmodeus

He completely compliance but doesn't really understand He still doesn't. After having a wife who had to deal with periods. It's a complete natural thing for the human reproductive system. And oh boy you bet he knows all about that

"You know if you really don't like it I used to have a cure that can take it away for 9 months, Would you like one? Hahah just kidding dear!"

Asmodeus 🤝Lucifer🤝Beelzebub(I think you can fill in the blank)

In all seriousness he really doesn't understand why humans don't like something that's completely natural He understands devils because devils are just naive beings in general and only certain high level angels Who worked with God don't care...

Another Tally on the board that what Asmodeus has that human men lack. Apparently basic women anatomy knowledge.

As much as he would love to take care of you again since he hasn't done that since his last wife. He doesn't think the Kings fully trust him yet so presents it is. He can tell what phase in your cycle by just scent alone, and that's scary.

Bonus non-canon:

Fem!Asmodeus: She doesn't give a fuck You better be on top of her or else she's going to have a problem. She always feels so horny her period.She's horny all the time

"It's going to be a bloodbath >:)!"

"please stop saying that..."-MC

[skipblebee]

An animatic I've been working on for a while now!! This is the first time I've ever tried making something like this n I hope u guys like it!! >_<

[ximiiixx]

down, boy!

in which cove has cravings, which is nothing out of the ordinary. but it's what he's craving exactly that might be a bit out of left field.

♡ nsfw, no au, fem + afab reader ♡ gentle dom top cove + sweet sub bottom reader ♡ pre-established relationship, oral sex (reader receiving), cove talks way dirty in this but in a pathetic way ehe, very much inspired by @sugar-omi's pussy hungry cove drabble <3

you'd never really voice it out loud ... but sometimes, cove reminds you of an excitable puppy.

from the way he lights up to how his smile stutters into something so much more jovial to how excited he gets when talking about his favorite things - the centerpiece of which, most notably, is you; as long as he feels comfortable, he brings a shimmering light to the function that nobody else could hope to replicate.

you'll be watching him go about his business with one of those rare ear-to-ear smiles, and you're sure you can imagine a tail wagging so hard it smacks against anyone within two feet of him. it's so cute, you can't help but to think.

and the way he responds to your praises, oh. you wish you could muster up the courage to ask if you could maybe record him going down on you sometime, if only to immortalize how he looks when the saccharine of your honeyed words seeps into him with miniature jolts; every time he squirms and whimpers and nods fervently when you stroke his hair and tell him he's doing so good, he's being such a good boy for you, he's making you feel so good and fuck, you're gonna cum-

he just looks too cute.

you wish you could spend every hour of every day letting him fuck into you, fingers and tongue and cock burying themselves against your gummy walls as he wails and moans and begs you to praise him more, love him more, cum for him just one more time-

but alas. work has had you tangled up lately, and you've only now managed to pull away from your third overtime in the past week. you'd barely managed to make it through the door before your (im)patiently awaiting boyfriend had snatched you right up from the porch and pushed you up against the wall without a word.

and that's where you find yourself now, pressed haphazardly against the wall with your ...

...pants yanked down unceremoniously, pooling at your ankles.

...skirt hitched to your tummy, shoved carelessly up your thighs.

cove's long since made himself comfortable between your plush thighs, nosing your panties out of the way and latching his mouth onto your clit without so much as a hi, how was your day.

which you're normally not opposed to, but it's been a long day at work ... you haven't even put your bags down yet!

"c- cove, c'mon," you protest weakly, unable to put up much of a fight when his tongue's raring to rock against your wet folds. he peers up at you, brow crumpled in a furrow as he whimpers against your cunt, pulling off of you obediently - even if he doesn't seem pleased to have to do so.

you're grateful for the chance to catch your breath ... but you can't help but mourn the loss of his warm, willing mouth.

still ...

"god- what's got you so excited?" you mumble incredulously as you attempt to gulp in a lungful of air without being interrupted by a moan or a whine. "i wasn't gone that long...?"

cove whines, face still pressed against your inner thigh. with how he's refusing to pull off, you could swear he's trying to nuzzle against your skin. "missed you. you were gone so long, and i just missed you, and- please, can i go back to what i was doing? please, please?"

you're no stranger to hearing him beg, but out of nowhere is a little unprecedented ... even as your arousal is practically dripping down your leg, waiting to be cleaned by an eager mouth.

before you can speak, he's grasping onto your thighs with eyes wide and pooling with desperate wetness.

"PLEASE, oh please-! c'mon, i'll be so good for you! i PROMISE!" he cries, gripping your thighs almost hard enough to bruise. "don't i deserve you 'n- 'nd your pretty pussy? haven't i been good for you?"

the mumbled whimpers are accentuated with kiss - and tear - marks against your inner thighs, sending rivulets of pleasure cascading down your spine as you shiver. still, your silence is taken as unrelenting refusal, and cove lets out a sob.

"please, PLEASE just let me fffFUCK you already-! i'll- i'll do anything-!" he nearly wails, sea-blue eyes imploring and needy, so needy. "i'll make you cum 'til you can't walk, i'll- i'll tongue fuck you so good, so GOOD-"

all this filth that's leaving his mouth is making your head spin. you hadn't known cove was capable of saying such degenerate things - even if you find it completely sexy.

... well, today was stressful anyway.

the feeling of your thighs tightening their hold around his face has him perking up almost immediately, a wide - and very grateful - smile overtaking his earlier simper. before you can even warn him to take it a little slower, he's practically nosediving into your cunt and eating you out without so much as a pause to let you prepare.

high whines, moans, and whatever may come between fill the entryway to your home as your boyfriend fucks into your pussy with as little decorum as he usually does when he's eating. the door behind you trembles with every rock of your hips against his face, grinding your cunt against his pliant mouth.

you're sure the neighbors can hear both of you at this point. you're not entirely sure you care.

"god, fuck- 's been so long, 's been forEVER," cove snivels out in a muffled moan against your puffy folds. "fuck, i missed this SO fucking much. why did you keep this from me, WHY- fffffuck, do you even love me anymore-?"

even through the din of your lust and the struggle of your day melting from your shoulders, you can't help but scoff affectionately at his dramatics - which is immediately followed by a loud cry as you feel his tongue curl up into you, as if trying to remind you of all the sensations you had been denying yourself of the longer you denied him.

his tongue only continues to fuck into you at a brutal pace, desperate to drink up everything he'd missed out on since the last time you two had done this - which could not have been more than, what...a couple days ago? god, he's insatiable.

"fuck, waited so long for this- SO fucking long, you have no IDEA- waited too fucking long to feel your tight pussy sucking my tongue back inside you," cove whimpers, each word pushed out against your cunt as he drives his mouth back against you between every pause, as if he can't bear to pull away from your dripping sex for even a moment. "god, feels like it's been AGES. missed you so much, fuck-"

you've never heard him curse this much ... ever. the vulgarity of it all, the obscenity of the slurping sounds beneath you mixed with the thrill of all that filth he's talking - it's enough to tip you over the edge, a moan just shy of a scream muffled into your palm as your vision explodes in stars, your orgasm hitting you so hard your ears ring.

he lets you ride it out on his tongue, drinking up your juices with all the greed of a depraved, starved man. his hands remain firmly fixed on your thighs, a vice grip that could have left marks if he wanted it to; his way of making sure you know you're not going anywhere until he's had his fill of you.

[fancyfade]

Jason in canon: I'm going to kill crime lords and drug dealers because I'm mad at my dad, so I can be a crime lord who controls crime. I view gotham as a place you have to beat into submission. I don't really think about victims of crimes one way or another. Also I refuse to kill the joker bc my dad has to do it, even tho he may survive and murder more people because this is textually about revenge and not protection

Jason fans: he's so feminist leftist and progressive! He's clearly doing so much more to help victims than batfam because clearly he is then only one who has ever suffered, and here's why his extrajudicial murder is the most progressive thing ever. I'm going to also act like he predominantly goes after supervillains who escape prison a lot rather than like. Crime boss lackies.

[misc-obeyme]

You were so unexpected. He knew that you were yet another task that Lucifer was pushing off on him for the sake of Lord Diavolo. Only another instance of being used, of being relied on, of being given the job no one else wanted to do.

It was difficult at first. A great demon like him had better things to do than babysit a fragile human like you. But time passed. Things changed. You changed and he changed and everyone else changed, too.

And then one day Mammon looked at you and saw his entire world.

He saw his sun in your eyes and his moon in your smile. His sky in the soft expanse of your skin. His roots in your fingers slotted perfectly with his. Time and tide and thunder and lightning, every part of him and every part of you - it was his everything.

It almost hurt to say it out loud. To admit to this vulnerability. His greatest weakness. It was always you. It would always be you. And in darkness, when you couldn't quite see him, he found he was desperate to whisper his truth into you. Pressing his face against your hair or your neck, his arms around you, feeling your heartbeat thudding against his. When he could just exist there, in the only place he ever felt like he truly belonged.

The Celestial Realm didn't want him. And the Devildom was only home because no place else could be.

Until you.

You saw him for who he was. A demon, a former angel, but more than any of that, you saw a brother, a friend, a lover. You saw the part of him that wanted to have fun, pulling pranks on Lucifer and going out clubbing with Asmo. You saw the part of him that wanted to protect, threatening Levi's bullies and taking the blame for Belphie. You saw the part of him that kept things normal for his family, teasing Satan and gifting things to Beel. And more than anything, you saw him when he was open and raw - when he didn't hide himself behind too much bluster, when he admitted how much his brothers meant to him. How much he loved you.

And maybe it was a little bit dangerous. Mammon knew that when it came to you, it would take so little. That in an instant he could become a demon whose power and rage cracked through the very fabric of existence. The kind of demon he never felt the need to be, the full potential that he let pass by in favor of keeping the peace. It would be nothing if it meant keeping you safe.

Pact or no pact, Mammon knew the truth. And deep down, he was sure you knew it, too.

That Mammon would let that power off its leash and bathe the world in blood, only for you.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[sualne]

bugs, blood & more blood

[seokminfilm]

i do 🤍 joshua hong

🪽 pairing, joshua hong x reader

🪽 warnings, non-idol au, newlyweds au, fluff, hurt/comfort, party setting, joshua calls reader sweetie/darling, mentions of stress/being overwhelmed, skinship (holding hands, hugging from behind), kissing, jeonghan is the menacing friend/third wheel

🪽 summary, your house truly was warmer with joshua in it, and no matter what happens, you did say "i do".

🪽 author's note, "but lyr i thought you don't write for joshua" um...🧍 i have a good idea and my brain automatically linked it with joshua so here we are....ALSO thank you all for 400 followers! i do want to do something special SO i may wait for the 400 follower celebration when i have a week off from school!!! anyways, enjoy this joshua fic 🤍 (ur welcome joshua lovers cause i did NOT have to do this ✋)

🪽 now playing, i don't know (seventeen) & smile flower (seventeen)

🪽 word count, 963 | for @kstrucknet

the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses resounded throughout your new house, and you studied your husband (wow, that felt unreal to even think) and his friends as they laughed at old stories they were sharing with each other.

you had spent all day today preparing the new house for the housewarming party you and joshua were throwing to celebrate the next big step after marriage─finding a home to start a family in. joshua had been so excited for this moment.

even though you were nervous about the future of your and joshua's new marriage, you couldn't help but be happy too. joshua had such a big dream for you and him to fulfill, and you were excited to see the future for both of you─it was nerve-wracking, but beautiful at the same time.

"i think we need more wine." jeonghan says to joshua as he follows him into the kitchen, where you're currently cutting more strawberries to add to the charcuterie board.

joshua chuckles dryly, his rich voice like honey as he shakes his head. "more wine is asking for more trouble, i think."

jeonghan gives a lazy smile, the one he always does when teasing or messing around with someone, and he slides his way over to you, knowing you wouldn't deny him. "i think we need more wine."

"do we? i can get some more if you want. just hold on." you say with a smile on your face, knowing good and well joshua's eyes are on your back. jeonghan gives you a quick hug, giggling in triumph as he returns to the bustling living room.

with jeonghan's teasing out of the kitchen, it's a lot calmer than the chaos happening over charades in the living room. the hum of the refrigerator blends in with the jazz music playing over the speakers. you focus on finishing up the strawberries, relaxing instantly as you feel strong arms slinking around your waist.

"i'm assuming you heard me tell jeonghan no more wine, sweetie." joshua smiles against your skin, already pressing a warm kiss to your neck. you nod, sighing as you finish cutting the fruit.

"i did, but he's like my honorary brother-in-law. am i supposed to say no?" you laugh, and joshua matches your energy, laughing too as he shakes his head. "no, no, you're fine."

the two of you sigh, falling silent as he presses against you. joshua is warm, and smells of vanilla, something you think you could never get tired of. his presence instantly brings calmness to your tense body, and you arrange the fruits on the board, focusing in on them before joshua softly grabs your arm.

"darling, is something wrong?" joshua turns you around to face him, doe-like eyes staring worriedly at you as he studies your face. you had been tense all night and hadn't looked like you had been having fun.

"i'm fine, joshua," the smile you give him with your response is forced, and you and he both know it. obviously, joshua doesn't fall for it, cupping your cheek in his hand as he brushes your hair from your face.

"darling, please. i know this isn't like you. you've been excited for this event all week, and now that it's here, you.." joshua pauses, searching for the right words. "you look like you don't want it."

it breaks your heart to see joshua say something like that: you do want this housewarming party. you want this marriage. you didn't want to seem unappreciative or uninterested. if that's how you truly looked, you couldn't help it. there was just so much worry and uncertainty clouding your mind you didn't know what to feel.

"joshua, no. i─i do want this. i want all of it." you say softly, a cheer mixing into your quiet voice.

"i'm just overwhelmed, shua. worried about what's to come. marriage is a wonderful thing, and it's even more wonderful since it's with you, but...i'm scared. i don't even know what i'm scared of." you heave a sigh, and joshua shakes his head, holding your hands in his.

"it's okay to be scared, darling. i'm here for everything─you can be scared. it's okay to feel nervous about what's to come." joshua smiles, eyes soft as he studies you.

"just know we're in it together. when i asked you to be my other half, i meant it. one isn't complete without the other─whatever stress, nervousness, or worry you feel doesn't have to be one-sided. we can share it, just like we share our dreams and weaknesses with each other."

joshua's closer to you now, his warm hand cupping your cheek as he catches the tears welling at the corner of your sparkling eyes. "i'm here. i always will be─i made that promise."

nodding, you smile up at him, wiping the tears from your face as joshua takes your hands in his one more time, kissing each knuckle as he looks down at you. his vanilla perfume is permeating your space, and it's instantly calming, bringing a sense of peace to you faster than anything would.

"thank you, josh. i needed that, more than you know." you sigh, raising up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to joshua's lips. they're soft, hints of wine leftover on them as he chuckles. "of course, sweetie."

"oh, and─tell jeonghan he can just take a bottle home for later. i don't think he needs it right now." you laugh, hearing jeonghan's slurred speech from the living room.

"you and me both, sweetie." joshua glances over his shoulder, giving you a wink and mouthing "i love you" before he disappears back into the living room.

sighing as you breathe in the fresh smell of strawberries and lingering vanilla perfume, you know everything's going to be okay.