#this was one of the very top comments like the fifth or so maybe so it's safe to say that more ppl will read and believe it.

[littleoddwriter]

this is exactly why it's so important to educate. this is why we "police" language and tell you what words to use instead. because this is how you actively perpetuate stigmas and demonise a whole group of people. and this is how it keeps spreading because within three days this first comment has received 25 likes, which may not seem like much now, but those 25 people spread this "knowledge" to 25 other people and so on and so forth.

again: narcissists are people with narcissistic personality disorder. a cluster B PD that is usually developed through abuse trauma (and genetic predispositon). gaslighting is a term used for the act of knowingly making somebody doubt themselves and their sanity (how they perceive events, their memories, etc.). being self-absorbed and not taking responsibility for certain behaviours is something every person is capable of. it's not "narcissistic abuse". it's emotional abuse. every person is capable of it.

stop calling everybody a narcissist because they've done something like this. it's not right. it's just another term y'all picked up on the internet without ever doing research about what it means or where it really comes from. and of course it's just another way for y'all to demonise people and stigmatise mental disorders you think make somebody abusive and unworthy of being part of disability and mental health activism...

[gallusrostromegalus]

You can lay blame for this second ask at @hoifne 's feet, I saw their comment on the post and had to:

How did folks react to the moon landing?

"You're ready? No Big Regrets?" Renji asks. He always asks. He'd done hundreds of Konso rituals now that he was doing his mandatory tour of duty in the living world, but he never wants them to feel 'routine', so he talks to the ghosts. Hypes them up a bit for the afterlife, tries to keep his heart in it.

Especially when it's a kid.

"Well, it's not really a big deal..." The ghost Suichi considers. He was maybe ten or eleven years old. Thick prescription glasses, face round with puppy fat, very loved. Love won't stop a freak electrical accident though. Young Suichi is handling his sudden departure really well, all things considered, so maybe love does stop despair. "-but its a bit of a shame that if there's no TV in the afterlife, I won't be able to watch the moon landing."

"Yeah, we're a bit behind the times, but I'm sure one of the mad geniuses in the 12th will invent one sooner than late-" Renji grins ruffling the boy's hair before the rest of the sentence registers. "-The What Landing?"

"The Moon Landing!" Suichi lights up with excitement. "They just launched the rocket yesterday! But in just three days, man will walk on the moon!"

"...The Moon?" Renji blinks, bewildered.

"Yeah!"

Renji points up over his shoulder into the sky, gripping the boy's shoulder, eyes wide. "THE MOON IN THE FUCKING SKY?"

---

The lights of the Fifth division offices reflect blankly off of Captain Aizen's glasses as he attempts to process the news. He is entirely still, save for his eyebrows which are writhing like overcaffienated caterpillars, unable to settle on an emotion to convey.

"The Moon?" Lieutenant Ichimaru squints at Renji even harder than usual, pointing up out the window behind him. "The Moon in the fucking sky?"

"Yeah!" Renji spread his hands. "I didn't believe it either but the humans have managed to work out some neat trick with the way the world turns to like, throw the spaceship like a slingshot..?" he tried to explain.

"So, so there's three guys in a boat-" Captain Aizen tried again, reaching up under his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.

"It's really more like a sealed metal tube, but they call it a Space Ship because it does sorta sail through space..." Renji tried to explain, holding up the newspaper from the living world he'd brought back to substantiate his claims and also provide helpful images to explain what was happening.

"So there's three guys in a metal tube and they... threw it into the sky so hard that instead of falling it started flying instead?" Aizen tried. "How do they even throw something that hard without Kido?"

"So the men are up in this little itty bitty bit at the top that looks like a cap on a vaccine needle-" Renji pointed at the image of the Apollo 11 rocket. "-All the rest of this is the uh. enormous amount of extremely coordinated high explosives they used to launch it. The. The whole thing is like... It's a little over three hundred fifty shaku and only 12 shaku of that is where the humans are. The rest is um. Air they smooshed so hard it became liquid and then they set that on fire and look at the picture you can see the kaboom!" Renji tried to explain, pushing the paper across Aizen's desk for his captain to read.

Aizen certainly pointed his face at the image and accompanying article, but 'read' may have been a bit beyond him at the moment.

"Oh, is that all it took?" Ichimaru hummed with interest. "Well fuck, why haven't we done that?"

"Oh yes, how very silly that the humans have beaten us at the trifling matter of FLINGING OURSELVES INTO SPACE, WHAT THE *HELL* ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ICHIMARU??" Aizen objected.

"Well like. Idea's sound. Moon goes around the earth, so a smaller thing should too. And we can absolutely make a sealed metal container and kaboom bigger than that." Gin shrugged, as though this were plainly obvious. "Betchya the clown that runs the twelfth has the stuff laying around- we got a meeting with him later today anyway, why not ask?"

"Oh sure, that's a great Idea!" Aizen beamed. "Why hello Kurotsuchi-taicho, curious news from the human world- do you think you could spare a few parts and several tons of explosives to send some guys for a stroll on the moon?"

There was a moment of silence where Renji and Gin shared an awkward glance (or at least, Renji gave meaningful look to the narrow slits where his lieutenant-commander's eyes theoretically were).

"...he'd agree to that in a heartbeat, if he hasn't started work on his own Spaceboat already." Aizen groaned.

---

"No." Grunted Mayuri.

"No? Why not?" Aizen asked, head cocked to the side like a confused spaniel.

"Look, what the old man doesn't know about budget expenditures won't hurt him!" Gin smiled encouragingly. "Think of all the scientific data you'd get to research!"

"What the old man finds out about budget expenditures after the fact can and will hurt me." Mayuri growled. "It's not cookie money, kitting an expedition to the living world to engineer a spaceship with atomic matter instead of Reishi- No, much more efficient to let the humans do it for us and poach the date from them."

"...Why would we need to go to the Living world?" Aizen blinked, confused. "I can see the moon from the window right here?" Aizen pointed out the window of Kurotsuchi's office.

"What? That moon? You can't go to that moon!" The clownish chemical engineer cackled."

Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him blankly.

"Is. Is the moon here different than the one in the living world?" Aizen asked, bewildered.

"Different? It doesn't exist!" Mayuri laughed, waving his hand at them.

Aizen and Ichimaru stared at him, then leaned back in their seats, looking out the window at the moon, which still looked as physical and present as it ever did.

"...Oh don't tell me you didn't know." Mayuri frowned, pouting. "No, spirit world doesn't have a moon. The thing up in the sky is a Tulpa- there's a "moon" because everyone who comes to spirit world thinks there should be one, and there's so much ambient spiritual energy even weak souls can exert some force on the nature of reality and when millions of them are all certain there should be a moon, a moon manifests. Or at least, a thing that looks like a moon. Doesn't act like one, changes size and skips around it's phases all the time and if it really were a round object in space, that's NOT what a crescent moon would look like."

Aizen and Ichimaru looked back out the window at the "Moon", whose crescent arced a full three quarters of the alleged satellite's circumference.

"Seriously? this is some really basic stuff." Mayuri glared at them in disappointment. "You never noticed that the moon is always visible out any random window at night, no matter what time it is? It doesn't even go east-to-west more than half the time!"

"But. But we have a lunar calendar..?" Aizen muttered, an edge of genuine distress in his voice.

"Oh yeah, the moon *used* to be regular as clockwork- everyone literally set their watches to it." Mayuri shrugged. "Then sometime about eh, two and a half, three thousand years ago? Right around the same time the first captain-class spirits started appearing, the moon started doing this 'Full Moon Thrice A Month If it Feels Like It' and 'Visible At Improbable Angles' nonsense."

Aizen's eyes were wide and Gin's very nearly open with alarm.

"That's uh- that's terrifying?" Aizen sputtered, now outright frightened.

"Yeah, anybody know what coulda caused that?" Gin muttered.

"The going theory is that the precipitation of a new class of spiritually hyperpotent souls like us has caused disproportionate tugs on the desired appearence of the the "Moon", but that's only a theory- my predecessor's predecessor once attempted to send a camera to the 'Moon' for a closer look, but it never actually *got* any closer." Mayuri explained, casually inspecting his fingernails- he seemed to be growing out the middle one for some godforsaken reason. "-Your theoretical starboat would likely far worse."

"...Okay but that's worse. You understand how that's worse, right?" Aizen demanded and Mayuri waved him off.

"No, no hit makes sense-" Gin nodded, and Aizen glared at his lieutenant. "Think about it! There's what, three and a half billion human on earth? Millions die every day, but only a couple hundred ever turn up every day at the intake queue in the 7th, and nearly everyone is from just the one part of Japan. We're one afterlife of many- ugh, could you imagine if the missionaries were sent here?- anyway, our world is nowhere NEAR as big at the Living World, so the moon-moon is just a geographical feature in the living world, and there's only a couple million people living here. We got disproportionate swing, so we pull on the collective conciousness more. It's fine!"

"That's AWFUL!" Aizen shouted, dismayed.

"I mean I think we all understand God is an Asshole, but what are you gonna do about it?" Mayuri shrugged before tapping on the crate beside his desk. "-Anyway, do you want these Polio Vaccines for the rukongai outreach program our not?"

"I- yes. Please." Aizen muttered.

"Good man, sign here." Mayuri tapped the sheet on his desk. As Aizen tried to read over the provisions release paperwork, the small "Electronic Mailer" on Mayuri's desk pinged. "Oh, the word got out- Kyoraku-taicho wants to hold another moon-viewing party for the occasion. Do me a favor and attend so you can explain to him why we can't go to our 'moon' for me? I don't want to go, and I really don't want to explain it to him through a hangover either."

"If you don't wanna go Boss I'll stand in for you. Promises to be a real riot." Gin grinned.

"Yes, you have your young friend, don't you? Miss Matsumoto?" Aizen smiled fondly at his second-in-command.

"Oh, she probably already got her invite- she an' Miss Nan- er, lieutenant Ise are real pals from the academy." Gin laughed. "Nah, I was gonna drag old blind bones along."

"...Captain Tousen?" Aizen asked, befuddled. "Whatever for?"

"Stars ain't exactly braille, y'know?" Gin explained, wiggling his fingers. "He knows even less than we do an' I wanna watch Rangiku and Kyoraku try'n 'splain the whole thing to him." Gin grinned.

"Sounds lovely! Take your shit and get out of my office." Mayuri threatened.

---

Renji exhaled, still bewildered, laying on his back on the grassy hill just outside the 2nd division training grounds, staring up at the moon as it rose opposite the sunset behind him. Or, maybe not? There had been some lecture about how the moon in spirit world wasn't a moon back at the academy that he didn't really remember-

"You sound like you're in the throes of a moral conundrum Red." Shuuhei teased, looking up from the strange contraption he was setting up.

"Huh?" Renji blinked. "Oh, no I'm just- Those guys in the Spaceship gotta be somethin' else, going to die thousands of miles from home."

"What? The Astronauts? They'll be fine! -Probably." Shuuhei laughed. "They're definitely insane, getting in that contraption at all, but they still gotta come home with all the rocks and whatever they get from the moon for the lab techs to look at."

"...How the hell are they getting back?" Renji frowned, rolling up onto his elbow to frown at his senpai. "I thought they blew up all the rocket getting off the planet?"

"They got a bitty rocket in the lunar landing craft that will get them between their ship and the lunar surface, and then they will angle the ship a bit and the moon will fling them back to earth the way earth flung them at the moon." Shuuei explained, not looking up from the weird bass-drum looking object he was messing with.

Renji opened his mouth, realized his friend probably understood it way better than he did, closed his mouth, shrugged, and changed topics. "So what is that thing you had me haul up here?"

"It's uhhh... Experimental. Haven't got a name for it yet." Shuuhei muttered, placing a level on top of it and frowning at the bubble before adjusting the legs bolted awkwardly to the side of the drum. "-But with all this excitement about the Lunar Landing, I realized Tousen-Taicho is... I mean he gets left out of a lotta stuff, y'know? But it's not like he can see the stars, or the spirit-moon, and I don't think he really understands orbital mechanics-"

"I sure fuckin' don't." Renji muttered.

"Yeah, because you're the kind of moron who put a ham sandwich in a VCR-" Shuuhei rolled his eyes.

"That was ONE TIME, and Matsumoto Senpai told me it was a Panini Press!" Renji sulked.

"-and then pressed "Fast Forward", but Tousen is actually smart as hell- I'm the one who can't explain it without gestures he can't see." Shuuhei continued. "...but I can use a camera obscura and reiryoku-sensitive film to sort of take an old exposure image of the night sky. I'm hoping that if I treat the exposed film right, that the light and dark parts will turn into different textures for him to read, like a braille sky."

"Oh." Renji muttered. "That's really nice of you actually."

"I mean, we'll see if it works." Shuuhei shugged, examining the level again. "Hand me the allen wrenches- What about your boss?"

"Captain Aizen? Uh- honestly? He seems a little freaked out by all this and I saw him fuckin' slam the newspaper into his wastebasket when he got back from the twelth." Renji winced. "He's weird like that. Sweet as cake most of the time but then there's these weird flashes of anger... and I'm not sure how much longer he's gonna be my boss."

"As in you got ambitions, or you think he's gonna get fired?" Shuuhei asked, staring at the level again.

"As in 'Tetsuzaemon Iba got in another brawl with his mother about him only being fourth seat when she made captain, and Liuetenant Madarame asked me if I'd updated my resume recently." Renji winced.

"Woof. Talk about a lateral promotion." Shuuhei winced. "Still, the pay raise would be nice. You could afford to take your girl Rukia somewhere up to her brother's standards!"

"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!" Renji snapped, rolling over and jumping to his feet. "-It's -I'm sorry. It's kinda complicated." Renji sighed.

Shuuhei was silent for a minute as Renji sat back down on the grass, face in his hands. After a minute of fine-tuning the drum to keep it level, he spoke up. "You're more than good enough."

"Huh?" Renji jolted. "Oh, yeah- I'd be doing all the eleventh's paperwork but there's no way it's worse than the fucking rice subsidies accounting board-"

"That's not what I meant." Shuuhei glared.

"...I know." Renji groaned. "It's just. It's complicated, okay?"

"If you say so." Shuuhei shrugged. "Alright, hand me the flat box- thanks. It'll be ready for exposure in a minute, and I want to get it done before those clouds roll in." He gestured at the distant thunderheads threatening to bloom into a summer storm on the edge of the city.

The process was quick- the shielded plate went into the gap under the drum, and the light of the night sky was reflected onto it from a pinhole in the top. Once the metal plates were pulled back, it needed a few minutes to pick up enough light, before Shuuhei pushed the metal shutters back in and locked the plate in darkness until it could be developed.

"It's for taking pictures of the stars, right?" Renji asked as Shuuhei started disassembling the camera. "You could call that plate an Astrograph."

"Hah! Futuristic. I like it!" Shuuhei grinned. "C'mon and help me with this thing before the punishment squad turns up to kick my ass for having a camera within a mile of the second."

[intricatechaosofyou]

Blind Date Gone…Wrong?

Pairing: Bob Floyd x f!reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

Summary: Maybe getting stood up isn’t the worst thing ever

Warnings: drinking, alcohol, language

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

You glanced down at your watch for the fifth time in the past ten minutes. It was 7:45, almost a full hour after you were supposed to meet your date. Convinced you needed a boyfriend, or at the very least a hookup, your best friend insisted on setting you up with one of her friends at the office. Having nothing better to do, you agreed.

Your blind date, Thomas, and you had talked, agreeing to meet up at an Italian restaurant on the beach. Putting on one of your favorite dresses that did wonders for your ass and donning a little extra makeup than usual, you had arrived at the restaurant five minutes past seven, fully expecting Thomas to be there. When you discovered he wasn’t, you shrugged it off and ordered yourself a drink while you waited.

You waited for ten minutes before texting him. You never got a response but you decided to wait a little bit longer.

Ten minutes turned into thirty.

And thirty minutes had turned into forty.

The waiter had been asking you if you were ready to order for the past twenty minutes, and yet you still insisted you needed more time, praying that Thomas would walk through the door.

You were starting to get blatant looks of pity from the patrons seated around you.

He wasn’t coming.

You were flagging down the waiter, ready to pay so you could escape the restaurant with some of your pride still intact when a man slid into the seat across from you.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, Darlin’. Maverick kept me late and then traffic was just awful,” he announced loudly before leaning across the table and planting a kiss on your cheek. His voice dropped in volume so only you could hear him when he whispered, “I’m Bob. Just go with it.”

You nodded slightly and tried your best to smile at the man, Bob apparently, once he pulled away from you. “Don’t worry about it, honey. I was more worried than anything.”

The waiter smiled at the two of you. Whether he was glad your date had finally showed up or glad you were finally going to order, you couldn’t tell.

Once the two of you ordered and the waiter was out of earshot, you turned back to the man seated across from you. “Thank you so much.”

He blushed and nervously rubbed the nape of his neck. “It’s no problem, really.”

“I appreciate it though,” you admitted. “Got stood up and I was getting all those looks of pity.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help.”

You smiled. “So, your name’s Bob?”

He nodded. “Lt. Robert Floyd, but everyone calls me Bob.”

“Lt. Robert Floyd?” You repeated. “You Navy?”

“Yes, ma’am. How’d you know?”

“We are in Fightertown, USA,” you mused with a grin.

“I guess you’re right,” Bob chuckled.

“I’m (y/n) (l/n),” you introduced yourself, sticking your hand out for him to shake.

Bob smiled and grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips to leave a kiss on the back of it. “Nice to meet you, (y/n).”

“Nice to meet you, too,” you replied, blush creeping up your face at his actions. “So is this your typical Friday night? Going around saving girls who got stood up?”

“N- no, this is the first time I’ve done this. And whoever stood you up is an idiot,” Bob replied.

You smiled at the man, head tilting slightly. The way he had said it was so genuine, you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell at the comment.

“Thanks, Bob.”

“Anytime, Darlin’.”

———————

“No way!” You giggled. “I don’t believe it!

Bob shrugged, bashful smile on his face. “Yup. Punched him right in the face.”

“What happened after that?” You questioned, trying to contain your laughter so you could hear more of the story.

“Suspended for two weeks.”

“And the other kid?”

“Nothing.”

You gasped, utterly appalled. “But he was the one being a bully! You were just standing up for your friend!”

“School didn’t see it that way.”

“Well, I do. Looks like you’ve always been a hero, Bob.”

A blush spread across his cheeks. “Anyone would have done it.”

“I don’t think so. You don’t give yourself enough credit, honey.”

The blush on his cheeks deepened as the pet name rolled off your tongue. “It really wasn’t a big deal.”

“If you say so,” you said with a laugh, resting your head on your hand as you gazed at the man.

The two of you had been talking for hours, meals long gone and a crème brûlée now being shared between the two of you. The conversation flowed naturally despite never having met before. You had talked about almost everything, from why you were in Miramar, childhood memories, to your favorite ice cream flavors.

“So, what’s it like being in the Navy?” You asked, pointing your spoon at him.

“It’s fun. I’m a Weapons System Officer which means I’m in charge of all the weapons in the back of the plane. Phoenix is my pilot.”

“Phoenix?” You question, tilting your head.

“That’s her call sign. Everyone has one,” Bob explained. “There’s Phoenix, Rooster, Hangman, Payback.”

“So what’s yours?”

“Uhh…Bob,” he admitted bashfully, eyes not meeting yours.

You grinned and let out a small giggle. “I like it. I think it suits you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, short and sweet.”

“Calling me short, Darlin’?” Bob joked.

“Definitely,” you replied with a wink.

———————

When the cheque came, Bob swiped it up before you could even touch it.

“To repay you for letting me crash your date,” he explained.

“‘Crash my date?’” You repeated. “Bob, you saved it.”

“Then to repay you for your company.”

You pouted and leaned back in your chair. “Fine. But you let me pay next time.”

“‘Next time?’”

Your cheeks heated up as you realized your mistake. “Not that there has to be a next time. I just had a lot of fun and thought maybe we could do this again. But that was a very bold assumption,” you rambled.

“Actually, I was gonna ask if I could see you again?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I had a really good time tonight,” Bob admitted, awkwardly shoving his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

Smiling, you reached across the table to grab his hand. “I’d like that.”

“Next Friday?” Bob suggested.

“It’s a date.”

———————

The two of you walked outside the restaurant hand in hand, giggling like a couple of high schoolers.

“Well, my car’s this way,” you mumbled, pointing behind you.

“Mine’s the other way,” Bob replied, frown making its way onto his face.

“Then I guess this is where we part,” you sighed dramatically. “But I’ll see you next Friday?”

Bob nodded. “Six o’clock.”

You smiled. “Goodnight, Bob.”

“Goodnight, (y/n).”

With a sudden burst of confidence you grabbed his collar and pressed your lips to his, relishing in the small gasp that left him. His hands came to rest on your hips as your mouths slotted together almost perfectly.

It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was long enough to leave Bob a mess when you pulled back. His glasses were knocked askew on the bridge of his nose, his cheeks were flushed, and a bit of your lipstick was now staining the side of his mouth.

You giggled at his appearance and patted his bicep. “You good there, Robby?”

“Better than that,” he whispered.

“I should get going.”

He nodded and pecked your lips once more before letting you go.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but spare one more glance at the man. He was walking in the opposite direction, fist pumping as he went.

You smiled to yourself. Maybe this blind date wasn’t a total disaster after all.

TAGLIST

@pono-pura-vida

[yourwitchybrother]

Reasons Why I Veil

☀ Firstly, modesty. When I veil, I feel loads more self-respect and confidence. My partner says that I am absolutely glowing whenever I veil! Il mio ragazzo <3

☀ Secondly, to protect my energy. Veiling helps keep my crown chakra protected and I've noticed that I have a habit to do it when I am incredibly stressed or stressed for a prolonged period of time. On top of that, I'm have very wavering levels of empathy, and veiling, no matter how high or low my empathy threshold is, helps me feel better.

☀ Third, sensory issues! I love being squeezed and compressed. Wearing a full coverage veil or, more frequently, a himation, makes me feel like I am constantly being squeezed, hugged, or held. But I don't get to veil like this often.

☀ Fourth, my hair. Currently, with how it is, I find the state of my hair to be very embarrassing. Veiling helps me build my confidence and I get to cover up a huge insecurity.

☀ Fifth, devotion. I veil to honor Hekate, mainly. Well, that's how it started. Then I continued veiling to honor Apollo and protect my hair as an act of devotion. Now, I veil for modesty and to honor Venus and Leto, the mother of Apollo and Artemis.

☀ I look good! I genuinely feel as though I look better with a veil on - so I veil when I can. Out and about veiling is limited to bandanas, though.

I don't feel confident or safe enough to wear any other veil type out and about right now. Simply wearing a bandana got me glared at in Italy and I don't trust the people in my city very much. I want to wear bigger veils - I am just fearful of public response. Maybe one of these days I'll get over this anxiety, but right now living at home, I can't quite veil how I'd like to.

How do you veil, why do you veil, or why don't you veil? All opinions and comments are welcome, so long as you're respectful! Blessed be, and may the Sun be your guide! A domani!

[muzansfangs]

Enjoy the silence.

Starring: Shinji Hirako x f!reader;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, fluff, slight somnophilia, oral sex (f!reader receiving), slight overstimulation, morning sex, enstablished relationship, Shinji’s piercing on his tongue is a warning itself.

Plot: you had convinced your boyfriend Shinji to accompany you to a concert. He loved music, but he loathed the band you supported. For the sake of you, he had let it slide, although he complained all the way back to your flat. The morning after, you woke up to an immense pleasure engulfing your nether regions, only to find out your boyfriend’s shit-eating grin giving you a sweet good morning.

Track: Enjoy the silence – Depeche Mode “All I ever wanted, all I ever needed is here in my arms. Words are very unnecessary, they can only do harm”.

MASTERLIST FOR THE EVENT.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Some golden rays seeped through the curtains, lazily illuminating the bedroom with a soothing orange light and the comforting warmth of the sun raising up in the sky. It was early, right, and you were still peacefully sleeping into your bed with the white blankets tangled in your legs and your boyfriend’s head resting on your chest. The sound of the chirping birds outside your window woke him up, his heavy eyelids slowly opening to greet the new day ahead of him.

His head ached a little, the aftermath of the rock concert you had dragged him to still affecting him quite badly. Maybe he should have stayed sprawled on your sofa yesterday night. Still, he could not turn you down. Not after the puppy eyes you had given him to his first refusal to accompany you there.

He lifted himself up the elbows, eyes darting on your body and your delicate features. You were still sleeping, chest raising and falling rhythmically, lips parted as you navigated through the mysterious roads of dreamland.

You were so beautiful, so perfect for him, even if you literally drove him mad at times. If he closed his eyes, he could still see you dancing beside him, screaming at the top of your lungs all the lyrics of the band he loathed oh so much. Still, you were so happy and dashing, shining among thd dancing crowd, and he loved seeing you smile like that. Yet, he had to somehow get back at you. He could not resist and restraining himself was not an option.

Being into a relationship for quite a while had granted you the chance to explore each other limits. You had told him more than once in the past that you were not bothered by the idea of him initiating intimate activities, while you were asleep. You trusted him blindly and, being touched by the person that had saved your life countless times in past, felt right, no matter the circumstances.

Shinji sighed, crawling down your body and carefully grasping your left leg to make some more space for him to move during the act. As he switched his gaze from your sleepy face to your panties, he made sure to slip his slender fingers underneath the straps and slowly pulled the item down your legs. A goddess, you looked like a real goddess.

From that position, the former Captain of the Fifth Division could enjoy the way your chest raised and fell in your slow and steady breathing, admiring the gentle curves of your body in awe. His pierced tongue swept out of his mouth, as he was lost into thinking about the way the the metal sphere over his tongue would have soon stimulated your bundle of nerves.

“Here we go, love…” he whispered lowly, a shit-eating grin plastered over his face as he lowered his mouth down to your heat.

At first, you did not even seem that affected by the gentle licks of Shinji’s tongue. You were clearly still too tired for having danced all night long, singing and pestering your boyfriend with facts about the singer only a true fan could know, to wake up right away.

You should have probably clamped your mouth shut on your way back to your flat, but you were too euphoric not to comment on the event you had attended. Maybe, though, you just wanted to enjoy the pained face crossing your boyfriend’s sharp features, whenever you praised the band.

Now, as Shinji delicately gripped your thighs, half-lidded eyes scrutinizing your face in hunger, you could sense something stimulating your pearl deliciously. As you stirred in your sleep, you whined softly and your hips bucked, causing Shinji’s nose to unintentionally bump onto your clit.

“W-What… Shinji?” you whispered softly, eyes still closed as your mouth hung open in pleasure.

“Good morning, darling” the blonde man replied, his hot breath fanning your soaked cunt as he greeted you with his slightly high-pitched voice.

Oh, now you knew what was going to happen.

You sighed and smiled lazily, your hand reaching down to allow you to run your fingers through Shinji’s irregular bob. It was an affectionate sign for him to continue, because he knew you could never get enough of him and his own special way to give you oral.

“Ah, no. That’s not how things work. Your voice is so melodic, ya know? I enjoyed listening to you use your voice all night long yesterday! Use your words for me one more time. What is it that you want?” the man asked, a snarky smirk on his glistening lips, as he flicked his tongue teasingly over your most sensitive area.

Jolts of electricity made your body shake, as you gasped and bit onto your bottom lip in pleasure. He knew where to touch you, how to drive you insane and push your buttons.

“You’re mean…” you muttered, pouting down at him, as you finally opened your eyes and met his bright ones.

And, dear God, what a sight to wake up to.

“Blame it on the Hollow inside me…” he purred, biting the inside of your thigh softly and leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down to your heat. His lips felt heavenly on you and the small moans falling from your lips were the unconfutable proof that you were loving his touch and that you craved more of it.

“Shinji, please. Baby, please, I can’t take it… Make me cum” you breathed out, making him wink at you and chuckle at the pathetic state you were in so early in the morning and he had not even involved his fingers yet.

“I got it, I got ya, baby… Now, let me treat that pussy right” he purred, not caring about punishing you anymore, as his lips started to suck at your aching clit passionately.

There was only one thing that mattered to him and it was not driving you crazy, or getting back at you. Shinji Hirako only cared about you, your needs and your love.

No matter how many times he had to follow you down roads he did not like, he would have endoured anything to see you happy. No matter what, no matter where.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! I’m sorry for being late with updates, but I have been so busy. However, I have completed another one-shot for my event. Yay, I feel at peace with myself. Why? Because it’s a smutty one and it’s officially kinktober! This is a little shorter than I had originally planned, but I guess it will suffice this time.

Likes, comments and re-posts are appeciated!

Until next,

x o x o

TAGS: @stygianoir @quinnies-blog @electronicwitchcollection

[goldustwomun]

will we talk? (j.p.)

pairing: bodyguard! james potter x baker! reader

summary: it was only meant to be a one night stand-- a pretty fucking amazing one night stand, but one night nevertheless. so when your dad informs you of a bounty on your head and beloved bakery, you expect just about anyone in the world but james to show up as your newly appointed bodyguard. he doesn’t even fit in with the decor!

warnings: allusions to sex (minors dni!!!), swearing, mentions of a sketchy job (drugs, arms, trafficking etc. u kno the drill w/ obscure mafia stuff), very very hot james xoxo

wc: 2.9k+

note: guess who’s back! (back back) back again! (again, again). anyway, hey :) i had random lines written for this for over a year & tbfh first yr of uni was great and then shit and then really shit so i had no desire to write, but i want to try!!! i really do!!! please, <3 comment & reblog <3 it means the world to me & literally every writer out there! excited for u all to read this :)

Some might say it’s obscene to be sat at a bar, three vodka cokes down, when it was only just past 7 o’clock. The sun still stared pointedly down outside the window, streets bustling with people only just starting their commute home. And sure, any other young adult might have used this opportunity to meet some friends, have a quiet night in, maybe text that one guy on Tinder they’d been putting off meeting– something, anything to fill the awkward lull in time that wouldn’t be too much of a regret the next day.

Some might say it’s obscene, but you like to think it’s just another Tuesday.

The problem with Tuesdays is that more often than not, Wednesdays tend to follow. And it was at noon on the dot that you’d have to make your forty-minute bus ride downtown (a mistake in itself when all anyone could smell was weed, piss and something else indistinguishably rancid), into the one office building that seemed to substantially out-tower the others like some sort of architectural pissing contest, only to sit in front of your Dad and his ever-overpowering bluntness.

And it’s not like you despised him with every molecule in your body– rather, a few molecules here and there. He loved you, that you were certain of, but owing anyone money, your own father especially, made relationships uncomfortable in a sticky, sweaty, clammy-hands kind-of-way. He had always been an immovable figure, suspiciously mafia-esque, even, but of course, you’d never dare broach the subject.

So, Dad, Pa, Father dearest– are the rumours true? Do you really run an underground boxing ring? Or is it arms? Drugs, maybe? As long as it’s not human trafficking, I’ll still love you!

Some things are better left untouched. If ignorance was bliss, you were determined to remain in whatever liminal state of unknowing you’d been in your entire life.

And while he kept to himself and you did to, the last Wednesday of every month, noon on the dot, was not to be messed with. You’d learned that the hard way when you’d missed one during a particularly harrowing cold. It’d been like a SWAT team smashing through your apartment windows when you’d forced her eyes open.

So instead, you gulped down another glass of scathing liquid, all but gagging near the end at the acidic taste of un-mixed liquor swirling around the bottom of your glass.

It was Tuesday, after all, and you hoped if you drank enough, there would be a chance you’d be able to zone out tomorrow– a sweet spot you’d yet to master (somewhere between mildly hungover but still coherent enough to please him).

“What is that– your fourth? Fifth?” A voice questioned alongside a scratch of the bar stool to your left. It was deep, curious, deliciously rough– enough so that your mouth quirked behind your glass, bracing yourself for the face attached to such an addictive timbre.

“Third, actually–” you turned, finally taking in the tousled, black hair, crooked nose with rounded glasses perched on top of them, “--have you been counting?”

He had a kind of all-consuming appearance. Dark yet boyish when you noticed how his smile leaned one way, and a slight chip in his front tooth. An athlete, maybe? You were going to thank whatever misguided angel, deity or God herself had brought him to you.

You didn’t make a habit out of chatting up posh-looking lads with egos that rivalled even that of Icarus and his melting wings, but maybe just this once you’d give in– actually take what’s being offered.

“Huh– dunno why you’re sounding so smug, love. Three drinks and it’s not even dinner time. Some might call that a problem.” Almost immediately that smile of his morphed into an all-knowing smirk, a teasing gleam swimming about in those swampy hazel eyes of his.

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Who? Eighteen year olds having a taste of their first legal drink? Not sure three drinks add up to literal alcoholism, love,” you threw back, defensive, accompanied by that kind of uppity tone in your voice you despised hearing in others’.

His irrefutable bemusement only sharpened the knife poking away between your ribs. Your frown deepened, and so did his grin, but still, his hands flew up in mock-defence as if your words could bite back (and boy, did you wish they could).

“My bad, sweetheart, only teasing,” he assured, nodding at the bartender and then your now-empty drink. Another one, his practised movements seemed to say,

“Do you make a habit out of calling girls alcoholics and then buying them a drink?” you asked, curiosity taking over your irritation.

He shrugged and you couldn’t help but follow the movement, watching as his broad shoulders seemed to invade your space with such careless effort. “So far, just you. It’s something new I’m trying out. What do ya’ think, is it working?” Again with that boyish charm– some sort of arrogance and humility all at once.

Your head shook in an immediate no, but more so to hide the smile that had unwillingly crept onto your face. You knew, with the way things were going, that you’d give into just about anything the man offered (of which he’d not even hinted at yet, but you were just so mesmerised and maybe a little tipsy so you didn’t quite care enough to think of how desperate you may be coming off).

“‘M James, by the way,” he offered as a white flag, a surrender, if you will. You accepted by returning the formality and raising your new drink to his own– a half-empty glass of clear liquid and ice.

“What is that?” you motioned to the beverage in question, “like– 10 shots of straight vodka at once?”

He snorted, a little ugly yet somehow endearingly attractive. Fuck. “Even better, actually– water.”

“And is that new as well, to go with the accusations and drinks?”

“Oh, yeah– I’m really trying to commit to this new year, new me thing,” he bounced back effortlessly.

“It’s November,” you deadpanned, brow arched.

“So I’m either a month and a bit early, or eleven late,” he quipped. You were stunned by the easy rhythm of your back and forth, wondering in what world someone like him could exist– a paragon of a man or whatever the scholars called it. “And while that’d be a fun little story if it were the truth, ‘m actually starting a job tomorrow. Big one, as well. Figured some self-restraint was in order.”

And it was only then that you’d noticed just how little space there was between the both of you, having somehow drifted closer, closer, closer like galaxies hurtling towards each other.

You all but swallowed, staring at his drink held between you, a last barrier that seemed both momentous and insignificant. He’d got you caged in as well, an arm lazing on your backrest, near enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin, blood, maybe even his desire. And his legs, in a somewhat similar position, only a whisper away from knocking into your own.

You considered giving in right then and there, urging his mouth to yours, maybe leading him to the restroom in a grungy stall you wouldn’t otherwise go near on even your worst, most wasted nights.

“Self-restraint with the drinks only, right?” you questioned, tearing your gaze from his glass to his eyes, only to find them already fixated to you. His mouth was perched open, a glide of his tongue against his bottom lip, and the action draws you closer to that chip in his tooth you’d noticed earlier– the one that begged you closer. For inspection, a taste– whatever.

“Oh, but of course. It’s my undoing really, my Achilles Heel, my Hubris,” he seemed to murmur, his words a secret between the two of you. You felt bold then, a rush of heat pouring through your veins as your palm came to rest on the thigh closest to you.

His eyes flickered down for a moment, as if making sure it was real — that touch — before they returned to you. Waiting, watching, with bated breath.

“What is?” you asked, questioning if you’d missed a part of his sentence or if he really was striking you speechless and a little stupid with his words.

“Pretty girls with drinking problems,” and you couldn’t help the surprised laugh that burst from you. He grinned and it was pure majesty.

“Yeah?” you mumbled, inching forward.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, sealing his mouth to yours.

It was bright, too bright in his office– like the ceiling lamps worked part-time in interrogation rooms on the weekends. As much as you needed to be alert, comprehensive, at least mildly sober– it just wasn’t going to happen.

Last night had been something else entirely– the kind of mind-blowing fuck you could only ever dream about, when nights were lonely and the left side of the bed cold for too long. Your memory was somewhat hazy, tinged red with lipstick and lovebites and kicking the duvet out of the way to reach more skin. It was scathing yet sweet and a kind of ruination you welcomed with open arms.

But it also ended abruptly when your eyes flickered open the next morning (a few hours later, more like) and he was already gone. You knew it was for the best– you barely had time for yourself, your family and friends, let alone a stranger with a quick (and skilled, in many ways) tongue and wit.

So there you were, jarred by the empty feeling seeping into your bones. And the lights (had you mentioned the lights?).

“Now, how have things been going this past month?” your Father asked in that all-business, no-nonsense way of his. You think he knows you’re hungover but like all things in your relationship, the two of you choose to ignore it.

“There haven’t been as many customers as I would have liked. The school down the road has been half empty since most of everyone is on study leave, but I–”

“I didn’t ask for excuses, only how it’s going,” he interrupted swiftly. A stabbing pain seemed to appear at the base of your skull as you conjured the remaining energy inside of you to not roll your eyes at your own Father, as well as the man you quite literally owed thousands of pounds to.

“Of course, my bad,” you bit out, taking a deep breath before continuing. “The shop wasn’t as successful as previous months but I’ve got the money here anyway so I’ll still be on track.”

He nodded, accepting your answer and the envelope you placed on his otherwise scarce desk in front of him, before he slid the money, unchecked, into his top drawer.

You sighed, hurrying your words and rushing to gather your things and be out of that dreary office, “Well, if that’s all, I’ve got some errands to run and–”

“--Actually, there’s more I need to discuss with you.” For the second time that day, he cut you off and you fell, defeated, back into the cold leather of the chair. You tilted your head in some sort of half-nod that said, go on.

With his hands clasped in front of him, a stern front if there ever was one, he continued. “As you know, my work is complicated–” (you frowned) “--complicated and expensive. And when one is dealing with the amount of money this company makes, things can get… messy.”

To say you were confused would be an understatement. An actual conversation, albeit clouded with obscurity, about his job? “And when things are messy, one tends to make enemies.”

You couldn’t help how your frown deepened, but you held back any concerns before they could make their way past the tip of your tongue. Your Dad wasn’t one to be interrupted, even if he was particularly talented at doing it to others.

“Essentially, there’s someone who’s not very happy with me–” your mouth opens finally to prod at his statement but he continues anyway, “--and despite every precaution I have taken in order to keep you safe and separate from my work, it’s unfortunately backfired this time around. And so, for your safety, I’ve hired a bodyguard to watch over you for at least the next few months.”

He finished and then there was a resolute silence hanging over you as you took in his words.

You couldn’t help it– you burst out laughing.

“Dad, you’re not– I mean–” the sentence barely made its way out of your mouth before you were overcome with a fit of nervous giggles once more. This is absurd. “You’re not being serious, you can’t be. Right?”

Silence.

Oh.

So that’s when the panic set in, your fingers clutching the armrest on either side of you until your knuckles were white. “Holy fucking–”

“Language,” he scolded with no particular bite and you couldn’t help but scoff,

“Language? Seriously, language. That’s all you have to say. You’ve just told me there’s some kind of bounty on my head and that I need a bodyguard– like, a person to follow me around, twenty four-seven, and carrying a gun or some shit– but all you can think to say to me is fucking language?!” Your breath came out in quick pants, jumping to your feet as you paced the office.

This must be a joke, you thought incredulously. You can’t have some stranger following you around. You had a business to run, croissants to sell, debt to pay off! Who could possibly–

And somehow it got worse.

He walked in and the two of your gazes connecting immediately, like magnets (though this time in a completely different context with your own Father as a member of the audience). You could see, from your place by the window, how his irises grew imperceptibly wider for barely a second as the recognition set in.

“No. No, no, no,” you blurted out immediately, mouth still wide from shock and suddenly you questioned whether your rapid heartbeat was a surprise or something close to a heart attack. Oddly, you’d have preferred the latter.

“Sweetheart,” he had pulled out the big guns now, “this is James Potter.”

“Dad—” you tried and failed to interrupt.

“Don’t worry about the logistics, I’ve sorted it all out. I’ve already rented the apartment next to yours so that he’s nearby at all times. He’ll need to be hired as an employee at your bakery– you know, for appearances sake— but don’t worry about the cost, i’ve got it covered.” Your mouth opened and closed, gaping like a fish out of water.

“And most importantly, he is not to leave your side. Ever.” He said it with ease like he hadn’t just informed you that your one night stand had turned into your shadow for the foreseeable future.

James had yet to say anything, his face a facade you wished you could slap off in that moment. Instead, he stood stalk still, arms poised behind him like some sycophantic robot ready to do whatever your Father pleased.

“He can’t be my bodyguard, Dad,” you urged, rushing to his desk, palms slamming down in front of him.

His response was a raised brow (you shared that in common). “And why’s that?”

It’s like you could hear James’ heart skip a beat, probably because yours had as well. You couldn’t tell him the real reason– that’d be a death wish, for the pair of you, if there ever was one.

“It’s just– he’s too big!” James didn’t smile, not outwardly, but you could see it in his eyes when you glanced his way. “I mean, he’s scary or whatever. He won’t fit in with the decor and it’ll scare away the customers,” you reasoned.

He finally spoke and it was then that you truly did consider walking over and slapping him across his stupid, gorgeous face. “What customers?”

You scoffed, whipping your head towards him. “Oh, screw you!”

James looked as if he were going to bite back, mouth poised for a reaponse, but your Dad cut in to save the two of you from outting yourselves.

“That’s enough. This isn’t up for discussion. James is your bodyguard and you’ll have no say in the matter.”

You deflated immediately, collapsing into the same chair you’d sat in, clueless, earlier.

So much for one night.

comment & reblog :)) if u have any ideas for the next chapters do lmk!!! woo!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Stranger 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Summary: A stranger buys the farmstead nearby and disturbs your sleepy village life.

Part of the Backwoods AU

Note: My first time writing this character!

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your nails are crusted in dirt as you kneel in the garden. You grunt as you wrestle the roots of weed from the soil and toss it aside. You wipe your forehead with the back of your glove as you hear the screen door snap shut. Your grandmother stands on the stoop, her hand on her achy hip.

“Did you hear, dearie?” She calls in her creaky voice. “Someone’s moved into Clyde’s old house.”

“Huh?” You catch your breath as you gather up the broken weeds, “it’s half ash.”

“Suppose they’ll fix it up,” she mutters as she leans on the narrow iron rail along the side of the backsteps.

“Suppose,” you agree as you stuff the green and brown foliage into the paper bag for the compost. “Who told you that?”

“I was just talking to Lynette on the phone. She also said Molly’s having her fifth.”

Five kids? You hide your chagrin at the thought. You don’t mind kids but that’s a lot to handle, let alone the pregnancies. Molly balloon’s up so big she can hardly move. Her last shower, she sat the whole time. Not much different than you, you guess. You sat in the corner and watched the silly games

“That’s exciting,” you say as you stand and dust off your knees, crumpling the top of the bag in your other hand.

“Ah, I’m sure you woulda loved to have four sisters? Maybe brothers? It’s a pity your mother never gave me any more grandchildren.”

“Mmm,” you suppress a frown, “yeah, well…”

“Anyhow, enough talk of spoiled milk,” she waves off, “I got a pie in the oven. You can take it over the Clyde’s once it cools.”

“I… why would I do that?”

“Oh my, don’t be ridiculous. We have a new neighbour, we have to be polite and welcome them to the village. It’s probably a nice family, or maybe someone your age. A friend?” She suggests, “I’d do it myself but I don’t think I’d make the walk…” she looks down at her hip, theatrically rubbing it. 

“Right,” you agree, the prospect of strangers making your tummy lurch. “Well, that pie will take some time.”

“Long enough for you to put on something clean,” she tuts as she looks down at your dirty jeans, “my lord, what would they think?”

“Yes, gramma, I’ll change, once I get this in the compost.”

“Good,” she smirks triumphantly and turns to swing open the screen door, the hinges whining shrilly.

You sniff and cross the yard. It’s not often there’s new faces in Hammer Ford. The village is a tourist trap at best and not a very lively one. Everyone calls each other by name and it’s second nature to stop and say hi. But that’s because you know each other; you have for years.

You lift the lid on the large bin and empty the bag into it. You could always lie and hide the pie in some bushes. Your deceit wouldn’t be hidden for long. Even in this sleepy place, word travels fast and someone always seems to be watching and waiting to pass it on.

🥧

You head out with the pie in a basket like some fairytale. You’re only short a red hood and a big bad wolf. You set off down the country roads, following the lazy curves towards the horizon. It’s after noon and the sun’s turning mild as it drifts across its pale canvas.

The old homestead is the second closest to your grandmother’s. The homes around Hammer Ford or sprawled out amid the plowed fields and green meadows. The cluster of old pines loom over you as you pass in there shadow and crest the hill that marks the edge of the property. Clyde’s tractor used to sit there, just by the broken down fence.

Ahead, down another stretch of road, this path unpaved, stands the decrepit house. The tragedy still singes the memories of the villagers. That night comes back to you in a blaze of orange and the smell of cinder. Poor old Clyde was buried behind Sacred Stave church.

You search the overgrown grass for a sign of life. There’s a black truck by the caved in garage but that’s about it. It might not be a family. It’s a lot of work to do with little ones around. If anything, it would only be the parents as they rebuild. Your mind wanders, wondering who would buy the old farm and why.

You come down the path, just along the ditch that dips behind a cluster of brambles. There’s a snap and a crack and you skid to a halt on the stones. You spin and look around, a heavy breath pluming into the air. Like the fire reawakened.

“Can I help you?” The deep timbre rolls through you and you step back on your heel as you face the man down in the ditch. He peers up at you above the scraggly top of the brambles.

“Uh,” you gulp and stare at him dumbly. He might think you’re lost. Or worse, trespassing.

His hair is short, only an inch on top and shaved even shorter around the sides. His beard is thick around his mouth, growing sparse across his cheeks, and two vibrant blue eyes beam back at you. The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink away. You can sense the city radiating off of him. He scares you.

“Hello? What’s up?” He waves as if trying to wake you up.

“Um, pie?” You say, cringing at your own speechlessness.

“Pie,” he repeats flatly.

You hold up the basket and blink. You never were very good at introductions. You were the only girl at school without friends. You were just sort of there.

“Pie,” you echo once more and hold out the basket.

He tilts his head, curiously, and huffs. He juts out his jaw and grunts as he pushes the brambles apart and climbs out of the ditchy. His denim jacket is streaked in dirty and pollen.

He takes the basket by the handle, his rough finger brushing yours. He peels back the cloth and to peek inside, “pie.” He utters the syllable a fourth time between you.

“Yeah,” your voice is wispy and small. “Bye.”

You let out a strained breath and spin, keeping yourself from breaking into a sprint. You stomp away frantically, smacking yourself internally for being so awkward. Well, maybe that’s a good thing. He’ll have no reason to talk to you ever again.

[sunnyy3d]

Hellooo I was wondering if we can get Nathan drake SFW and NSFW headcanons?

A/n: Thanks for the request! I'm sorry it took so long but I hope you enjoy it! Alo, this is my first time doing nsfw... (Requests Open!!!!)

☼☽⋆｡°✧ SFW ✧⋆°｡☾☼

He’s definitely a big cuddler. He’s always trying to keep you in bed in the morning.

He loves to give you hugs from behind. Whether on an adventure or just doing the dishes; he’ll walk up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist, rest his head on your shoulder, and just chit-chat.

He’s very protective. Let’s be honest, it can get pretty annoying at times, but you know he always means the best. When you get hurt, you never doubt that he’ll be by your side immediately.

He loves that you have a good relationship with Sam and Sully. He just loves all of you so much, so it means a lot that you guys get along.

He never misses the chance to tell you that he loves you. Every time you leave the room or hang up a phone call with him, he makes sure to tell you how much he loves you.

He’s just so in love with you. There isn’t a single thing about you that he doesn’t love. Sam and Sully are constantly catching him with a love-struck look on his face, and they make sure to make fun of him for it. Hell, they make fun of you too. They’re always making comments about how you have Nate wrapped around your finger. About how maybe you did some kind of magic and casted a spell on him.

As history nerds, the two of you love to randomly reference historical facts (”That’s more pathetic than King Phillip II of Spain’s fifth armada”).

One time, Nate went on a “top secret mission” that he refused to tell you the details of. Though you were initially against it, Nate begged you to trust him and eventually convinced you to let him go (it took a couple of different methods of persuasion). Turns out, he had gone on a risky mission— risky enough that you wouldn’t have agreed to him going— due to the large sum the award provided. With this money, he bought a custom engagement ring. It was the ring you always told him that you wanted if you guys ever became filthy rich. Not only did it have top-of-the-line metal, it had the most beautiful gems in it.

He’s a HUGE flirt. Even though you’re already together, he always makes sure to tell you how hot you look. You could be fighting mercenaries or even brushing your teeth and he’ll tell you that you’re gorgeous.

After an unsuccessful mission, he’ll always say something along the lines of, “It’s okay, I still have you and that’s all I’ll ever need.”

You guys met when he came to you regarding information on a certain treasure. You agreed to give him the information on one condition: you get to go find the treasure with him.

☼☽⋆｡°✧ NSFW ✧⋆°｡☾☼

He’s very jealous and that tends to translate into your sex life. After some guy tries to flirt with you, he’ll make sure to remind you why you don’t need anyone else.

He LOVES to eat you out. Part of it is that he just likes pussy. But most of it is that he loves to pleasure you. He doesn’t care if he gets off, as long as you do.

Once, when you guys were on a mission, the mercenaries had captured you. When Nate FINALLY got to you, you were tied up. He definitely waited a few minutes before letting you down so that he could stare at you. Everything about the way you looked with your hands tied above your head and how mean you were to the mercenaries turned him on. Ever since then, he has loved tying you up.

He’s tried roleplaying with you. One scenario was that he was a thief trying to seduce you into letting him take the Queen’s crowned jewels.

He likes to edge you. While he is all about your pleasure, he knows that you’re into it. It also gives him a sense of satisfaction, we all know how cocky he is. Occasionally, he’ll even add on overstimulation, going until you’re begging him to stop.

One time he had the terrible idea to try a lush on you. He made you wear it (you consented of course) on a very low-risk mission. While you were successful, it’s not something you would do again.

He’s often away, so he’s not opposed to sexting. He doesn’t care if it’s over text or on call, he’s down for it. He especially loves it when you send him unprompted nudes.

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

"A little biting never hurt nobody." pwease & ty 🖤

"A little biting never hurt nobody."

Lip and Tammi are staying in their guest room for a few days while something gets figured out at their new place. Something gas-related. Ian doesn't get it fully, but he doesn't need to. All he knows is he's not about to let his brother blow money they could be using on that on a hotel or AirBnB.

After only a minimal amount of coercion, Mickey agrees to host them. And now that they're well on their way to their fifth day of cohabitation, he's more than comfortable with having those two around again. It's like old days, but better. Because this time it's his and Mickey's own home, and this time they'll eventually be getting out of their hair.

So Mickey's adjusted. Very well. Maybe a little too well.

While Lip and Tami are going over something at the dining room table a few feet away, they're stretched out on the couch, good and cozy with something flickering on the TV.

Mickey's practically in his lap he's so comfortable - a normal position for him when they're alone, and finally making its appearance again now that Mickey's adjusted to people being in his space. Fuck, he's so at ease from that wine at dinner that he's even got a little nibble going on, soothing himself with a soft, mindless graze of his teeth over Ian's knuckle. They do this sometimes, his big hand rests against the bottom half of his mouth. Almost like he's a step away from covering it.

It's not all that crazy. Ian almost doesn't say anything. But a brief moment of awareness has him second-guessing. In protection mode of Mickey's peace, as always.

"Hey..." he says very quietly down to him, "...you care that you're doin' that...? Around them...?"

What he's doing seems to register in Mickey's brain then too, his teeth relaxing from a gentle bite. He pulls his head away to look up at him, expression easy. "There somethin' wrong with it...?"

And, "No," Ian insists, "course not..." It is routine for them, after all. He just knows how Mickey is. Doesn't want him to feel weird, is all - if a certain brother of his noticed and decided to make a stupid comment about it.

"Little bitin' never hurt nobody," Mickey murmurs then. And it's all Ian needs to hear to soothe his concern, a lazy smile working to his lips to match his husband's.

At the dining room table, the discussion is starting to heat up a bit.

But on the couch, Mickey slips right back into business. Grabs Ian's wrist and helps his hand back into place over his mouth so he can nibble on the knuckle of his pointer finger for good measure.

It's calming for him. Ian knows that. But what really surprised him over the years is how calming it is for himself too. The warmth of Mickey's mouth. The light touch of his tongue every once in a while. The easy pressure, his fears of getting his finger bit off subsiding long ago, even when he needs to bite a little harder.

He likes it. And Mickey likes it. They both like it. And they're in their own house on their own couch, so of course they're gonna do it! Mickey is so right.

The episode ends. Another begins, blasting them right away with a raunchy scene of sweaty, grinding bodies.

And it's not like they haven't been having sex while Lip and Tammi are here. They've definitely been having sex while Lip and Tammi are here. It's just that they haven't been able to honor their full potential - haven't had the space to just go apeshit - another one of their routines, but this one filled from top to bottom with creaking furniture and loud, nasty moaning.

It's their house, but that shit is just for them. So they're refraining. For now. Which means when the guy on the screen lets out a throaty moan, the camera panning over his sweaty back, Ian feels that shit right in his dick.

He's not the only one. He can feel Mickey's tongue dart out along his finger down there, tracing along it just a touch too purposefully for it to be considered mindless and soothing.

Ian lets it go. Lets him do it. Lets the moment play out on the TV, the scene feeling like it's reached the ten minute mark holy fuck, Netflix just kinda lets anything fly these days, huh?

When the camera breaks away into a different location - different people - the relief that should come with it never lands. Because they may have entered a different scene, but Mickey's settled into this new vibe and seems good and comfortable in it, his lips parting to suck lightly into the side of Ian's finger - warm and wet and pleasant.

"Mick..." he says, quiet enough that it's just for them again.

But he doesn't really know what he's saying, to be honest.

Because now that they're here - now that those lips are dragging heavily over his finger until reaching the tip, and then wrapping around and taking the whole thing into his mouth - fuck, it feels good. He maybe doesn't need it to stop, actually. This is okay.

It's their house and their couch and if his husband wants to suck on his fingers, of course he's going to! Mickey is so right.

So Ian lets him, enjoying the little thrills that uncurl in his belly as Mickey's licks between two of them and then lets them sit heavily in his mouth.

It's not a new sensation by any means, but Ian's always taken away by how fucking good it feels. Mickey's tongue is so soft... So warm... So wet and welcoming as it gently laps over the pads of his fingers, just like it does when his mouth is a little lower.

Another swirl of interest, working down through his belly and between his legs this time...

Fuck...

Okay, maybe they should stop actually. Before Ian hauls him off to bed for one of those extra loud and nasty fucks they've been keeping under wraps.

But Mickey looks so hot when he tilts his head to look up at him, his eyes pretty and heavy-lidded while he quietly sucks to the tip of Ian's fingers, and then flattens his tongue and drags it purposefully up the underside of them, spreading tingles in Ian's hand and Ian's lap.

"Jesus..."

Mickey arches a lazy eyebrow at him. Smirks as he presses his lips to Ian's wet, glistening fingers. 'You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?' without a single word.

And yeah. They're definitely on the same page, the couch groaning beneath them as they both get to their feet, trying their best to act natural.

Or - well, Ian is at least. Mickey doesn't give a fuck.

"We're uh..." Ian motions toward the back of the house, not even pulling his brother's attention, "We're just-"

"They don't give a fuck," Mickey insists, and then starts directing Ian into the hallway with helpful shoves. "Come on."

Once their bedroom door closes, the biting gets a little harder.

[ send me a smutty one-liner ]

[hisaribi]

So, there's very popular ratiorine au with human!Ratio and merman!Aventurine, and in my usual fashion, I'm thinking of the opposite thingie (maybe even leaning more towards gen)

Merman Ratio:

He's never lived in the ocean, almost from birth he stayed with humans, he was taught human languages, and was studying this whole human culture, knowledge and so on. He's used to processed food. There's a non-zero chance he just straight up won't survive in the wild.

By the local law he's considered a free human, his home is accommodated for him, he has like money from the researcher who raised him, he works in university, online-courses and all that, he's working on his fifth PhD, and while he gets comments here and there about his species, generally he's a respected member of society, even though you can't make it this far without pulling on some nerves.

He also like wears clothes that he created specifically to sort of always stay dry, like look at his top, some fabric thrown over it and all that. So like he knows what clothes are and he is well aware that his naked torso isn't really appropriate.

He's living his life mostly alone, there some people who work for him, cleaning, cooking, all that, sometimes students come for the lection, but he's been in need of an assistant, as most of them ran away with tails between their legs.

So he's like that, and once someone from the IPC comes and goes like hey so we have a present for you, and give him a slave. It was a thinly veiled murder attempt, because this slave killed his own master, and yet here they were. Ratio hates slavery, and he would like nothing more than to refuse such a poor taste gift, but he also is more than aware that it would mean the kid would be given to someone else, which would lead to even worse fate, so he accepts.

And as soon as the giftor leaves, Ratio tells the kid he would free him of slavery, and he'll give him work in a meantime, payed one, and all that. So you guessed correctly, here comes Aventurine

He's from Dune. Sorry, bad joke, he's Sigonian, but Avgins were displaced from their usual living area to the desert, where shit went down. Some time later he got enslaved

The hunger games in Aventurine's past went as they did, and he killed Aventurine, but instead of getting to Jade like in canon, he was pronounced dead by some else IPC worker with a grudge, and he brought him to Ratio, telling him to do just what he does best, be pretty and kill his master, and for that he will find out about whereabouts of other Avgins (at that time he still had hope they were alive, at least someone)

He isn't a kid, just short-ish and malnutritioned, he's actually just 2 years younger than Ratio

Also he never learned how to read or write, but his memory is great, even though he assumed Ratio would just screw him over his illiteracy, but instead he promised to teach him, so he would work like an assistant

He also has self-esteem issues, but he keeps the front and bickers with Ratio, and also doesn't rely that everyone else think Aventurine is his slave (which is technically true, despite him having a free human registration, the numbers on his neck that can't be removed are very indicative)

Also one of important things you need to know about merpeople in this au is that they're larger than humans, they actually keep growing for much longer, and Ratio had constantly adapt his worktools to fit. Most of the time Aventurine kept his distance from Ratio, he was doing errands like running to the campus and dealing with something Ratio couldn't, or bringing some books, like old fashioned ones, and getting the information from them digitallized for Ratio to use, and as there were some other workers that dealt with more close and personal things, somehow this fact flew over the radar for both of them. Until Aventurine, and he went by the name of man he killed, had to come close because of some thing or another and Ratio lifted himself up from the water, so his straight hands + head made him taller than Aventurine standing straight on the same level surface, and we ignore the fact that his tail is like 2/3rd of his overall body length.

Doctor, you're huge

Ratio sort of expected Aventurine to get spooked by that, like other people would, but he just adjusted the font size and kept up like nothing was weird about that. And well, Ratio had sharp teeth of predator. Aventurine even managed not to flinch at Ratio's palm coming too close to his head to point something out.

Also by that time Aventurine ratted whoever sold him to the IPC, and sort of managed to get friendly with Boothill and tip him on the slavery bullshit he was aware of. Also he was known in the poorer parts of the city as a 'lucky son of a bitch'.

And during the visit to the Herta research center he picked three critters, these cute kitty-cakes. He sort of wanted to keep them in his room, but they are kittens, and one time he came back to Ratio teaching them how to read. He didn't seem angry about animals, and just asked Aventurine tell him beforehand.

Ratio sort of expected Aventurine to leave him as soon as he got the permits to work and move freely. Because, well, he was gifted to him as a slave, he certainly had other aspirations, and actually, good for him, but somehow Aventurine stayed. And Ratio wasn't sure why. He didn't know about the Hunger Games, Dune or killing Aventurine, if anything, Ratio knew almost nothing about him. He was aware his beliefs weren't in Aeon, but in some goddess and he only prayed to her vocaly, that his eyes and looks weren't local in any mean, but he had no idea where he came from or even what part of the world. He sort of knew of his obsession with deals, gambles, bets, exchanges, and (wrongly) assumed that was what got him into slavery, but he didn't say a thing. He also knew Aventurine was bright, had a good memory and an unusual for someone uneducated grasp on mathematics, economy, sociology and psychology.

And also that he didn't know how to swim, which they learned sort of hard way with Aventurine slipping into the water and almost drowning. Ratio heard him falling, but thought he would just swim back up, and when Aventurine didn't, swam closer and pulled him out. And considering the swimming area is big for Ratio to move around comfortably, and had nothing to grab into and climb up, well, it might've been a very unfortunate end.

Oh hey that's the first time they touched each other!

Anyway, no idea where to take it from here, so ye, throws it at ya and runs away

[charkyzombicorn]

Got a comment on this post sooo Into The Void It Goes! Enjoy!

Usopp didn't know how to take it, when Luffy had marched up to him in his new fifth gear. Usopp had seen the other gears before, but only so long as there was fighting. It should have put Usopp on edge, seeing Luffy hold onto a form that made him so strong when the fighting was done. But for all Usopp's logic (and it was very sound logic) insisted, he saw Luffy jittery and smiling with a softness in his eyes meant just for him, and all the worry seemed lighter.

Luffy hadn't said anything, just finally stopped in front of Usopp and looked at his face, then at his hand. Usopp brought it up automatically - like he usually did when Luffy was in a touchy mood and wanted to play with his hand. But Luffy froze for a second, before grabbing the hand in both of his and looking up at him like he was about to cry, even with the smile still firm on his face. Usopp curled his fingers around Luffy's automatically as his eyebrows lowered. Luffy held his hand tighter. "I love you." He said, looking for any sort of reaction as if it was the first time he said it and not the thousandth.

Usopp couldn't help the sappy smile. "I love you too." He tried to put his other hand over Luffy's but the second the last syllable fell from his mouth Luffy tackled him, giggling and rubbing his cheek on Usopp's. The sniper, from endless practice, managed to not quite fall over. Luffy's hair felt odd, warm and curly and moving, Usopp didn't mind.

Then Luffy pulled away suddenly, and Usopp just then noticed his strange pink irises had a dip in the top and a point at the bottom that made them look like cartoon hearts. "Dance with me!"

Usopp snorted. "Okay - but maybe not where everyone is, not because I can't dance but I can dance so well the poor civilians' eyes will bleed if they see how great--" Luffy was already dragging him to the middle of where the lanterns were just released. In front of everyone. Usopp only made peace that this was happening and hopefully the people of Wano would be forgiving to their savior and his graceless husband.

Luffy finally stopped and turned to him, hearts still in his eyes and smiling like it was the best day of his life. He adjusted their joined hands and then slid his open hand into Usopp's other. "I love you." He said again.

"I love you too." Usopp said easily.

Luffy started giggling, and took a step back in a mime of an invisible stair. Then another, and his feet weren't touching the ground. He went up another three steps and Usopp couldn't bring his hands any higher and almost started asking his many questions. Then Luffy pulled him up and Usopp's feet landed on. Nothing. But solid, as if it were ground. Usopp had so many more questions, but then Luffy pulled his one hand and they where turning.

Luffy was never this smooth when they used to dance to Brook's violin, back when Luffy wore his shirt closed and it seemed like he could face the whole world. Usopp wondered where he learned. Luffy swept through the air like a breeze, bumping lanterns but only changing their path. Usopp felt sloppy, compared to him. But then Luffy was looking at him like he had hung the moon, and Usopp wondered if he was somehow dancing well or if Luffy was just weird. His money was on 'weird'. Luffy guided them as they flowed through the air, lanterns bumped every which way and reflecting in Luffy's heart-shaped eyes, making his curling hair look like a soft white fire. Usopp's heart was lurching but he didn't care at all.

Then, Usopp worked up the courage (which took less time than normal, maybe because Luffy had said it so much in the last 10 minutes) to pull a hand away and then hold Luffy's face, thumbing at that old scar. "I love you." He muttered, to Luffy and not the civilians he could feel staring.

Luffy pulled him into a hug. "I love you too, I love you too, I love you so much, I love you too." He giggled into Usopp's shoulder. "I'll love you until the sun goes out, I love you too." And Usopp didn't know what got into Luffy, but he just rubbed his back while Luffy muttered 'I love you too's into his neck.

[writtingsomestuff]

WHENEVER, WHEREVER

Before you start reading I just wanted to say that this is the first time I ever write for a “public”, we could call it like that. Also, English is my fifth or sixth language, in case you find an error or various. 

This is any footballer x fem!reader (I hope it’s right) 

- I hope you enjoy it and any type of comment is welcome 

- It is weird because I just thought about it and wrote it down 

- Any footballer but Piqué, it would be weird if you did

[I am not trying to own or appropriate any of Shakira's songs (or her teams'). "Whenever, Wherever" is not my song and neither did I write the lyrics.]

WHENEVER, WHEREVER

He was coming down the stairs when he heard the music that you were playing out loud. It felt weird when he woke up and could not feel you between his arms and that is why he started to search for you. 

He quickly knew where you were as soon as he was able to hear properly and his brain started to function. That song was very familiar to him, to both of you actually, but maybe it meant more to him.

He saw you there, dancing with the spatula on your right hand and your left arm up, following the rhythm of the song. 

Two years ago

You both were having the fun of your life, especially you. You just finished uni finals two weeks ago and both of you started to date a few months ago, none of you said “I love you” yet, it was a relationship between two adults who liked each other.

You were looking at him, in his eyes, smiling and moving your body shyly to Shakira’s song. Your chairs were touching as he held his glass that was right next to yours. The ambiance was perfect to define a late summer night, everyone was happy and enjoying life the best way they knew, your friends were dancing on the floor, while you decided to sit down and  enjoy the party more calmly with your boyfriend. “Boyfriend”, pretty weird for you, right? First time having a partner and him being a well known footballer, that is something that you never expected, a real plot twist in your life. You have not changed since you met him but he surely showered you with affection, you blushed every time he called you “beautiful” and you felt a whole zoo in your stomach every time he held your hand, you could melt just by seeing him trying to make you laugh with a bad joke, and you could cry because he truly took care of you.

That night you looked very beautiful, not just because he told you so but because you felt happier and you truly liked the outfit and the make up.

He was directly looking at your lips, without shame, while you were lip syncing Shakira’s “Whenever, wherever”, ‘Think out loud, say it again’ you followed the song word by word, without any mistake, you could prove that you probably learned all of her songs by heart. He gave you a small smirk, he truly felt happy, seeing you finally relaxed and for being able to spend more time with you. It was a very loud party, but you were in your small bubble, enjoying each other’s company. You laughed a bit as you could not follow her famous 'Le-ro-lo-le-lo-le' and kept lip syncing the song, and when you followed her words: 'Tell me one more time that you'll live lost in my eyes' he knew it, it hit him. He was completely and entirely lost in your eyes, not just your eyes, he was lost in the whole of you, he was mesmerized by you, almost as if you put a spell on him that attached him to you for the rest of your existence. He was in love with you, entirely in love with you.

Present

You were there singing that exact same song that told him that he was in love with you. It was not a calm, relaxing or slow romantic song, however, it told him.

He hugged you from behind, sliding his warm arms on your cold belly, he almost swore that you were wearing the same top you did that night, it was not but it was quite similar. It surprised him that two years later he remembered every single detail and every second of that night. He thought about writing it down as he was scared about ever forgetting even a millisecond of that night.

He kissed your cheek as you gave him a smile, one of sincerity and love. He then, whispering, told you, “I do, I live lost in your eyes.” 

[androgynousblackbox]

How I Met Your Father. 2 [Appleradio, Radioapple, Chaggie]

Vaggie came out from their closet holding two dreses. Charlie counted these as the fifth dress that her girlfriend had brought to her to hear about her opinion, but she wasn't about to comment on that. It was kinda cute seeing her fretting over trying to find the right one. On her humble opinion she already looked amazing in all of them anyway.

"Okay, which one of these says 'I am a good partner to your daughter and I also respect your home and your husband, who I am very sorry for pointing a spear to'? This one I think says 'I am trustworthy and responsible', but maybe the skirt is too long and it will be too strict? And this one look cute, but maybe the sleeves are too long? What do you think? What if it gest messy with the food and I don't realize it?"

"Mmm" Charlie rested on her bed, where her own outfit had already being chosen, chin on her hands as she moved her hooves as if really was thinking it over. "I like the second one. The long sleeves make you look elegant and kinda mysterious."

"Yeah? You think so?" Vaggie modeled the dress in front of her mirror. extending the sleeves over her naked arm. "Well… it is comfy."

"Comfy is important" encouraged Charlie and then gasped. "You could use that cute black chocker I bought you last week! It would look so cute!"

"Wear something you gave me would show my commitment to our relationship! Good thinking!" Vaggie's eyes illuminated at the brilliant suggestion and Charlie could not hold it any longer, letting out her laugh. Vaggie blushed, suddenly self unconscious. "W-what?"

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to. It's just… You are treating this like some kind of strategy for war" commented Charlie, sitting upright at the side of their bed and patting her side for Vaggie to come in. When her girlfriend came in, Charlie hugged her by the shoulder. "There is no war anywhere, sweetie. I understand you probably never did anything like this before, with your previous job and all…"

Vaggie's face paled at the mention. She was so thankful that Charlie had found her so quickly after loosing her wings, right before Lute took off, because she frankly had no clue of how she would ever be able to tell her girlfriend she had contributed to the problem they were trying to solve one. It had been years since then, but she still felt sick everytime the topic came up.

"But you don't need to treat it the same" continue Charlie gently, rubbing her shoulder. Her hand caressed softly the scars on her back, fully healed now and now just a bit sensitive for Vaggie. "My parents will love you regardless of what you wear. Well, dad may take a while warming up, but that is just how he is, don't take it personally. My papa is a lot more easygoing and won't care. And in the very rare case that he doesn't like you, which he will, I will still like you the most so it doesn't matter."

Vaggie relaxed against her, trying to clear her head.

"I know, I have been silly."

"I like you silly."

Vaggie smiled, nuzzling Charlie's neck as one of her arms hugged her waist.

"It's just… You don't really meet the king of hell himself everyday. The big scary Lucifer that we all heard about all the time as a cautionary tale."

Charlie snorted, covering her mouth.

"Is that really what they think in heaven? Babe, that is just legends at this point. I promise you, papa is literally the least scary guy in all of hell" She kissed Vaggie's cheek, nuzzling her back. "Come on. I really think the chocker will look really nice with this."

Vaggie nodded, finally dressing up with the dress of the long sleeves. Charlie had a white shirt on top of black pants, casually going along with the grey dark blue dress of Vaggie. Even after they were both done dressing up and fixing their hair, they had some free time to tell Husk to call Charlie's number if anything happened before a portal opened up in the living room of the first floor.

Granted, leaving the hotel at the hands of the cat man that lived perpetually drunk wasn't the wisest of choices, but between Niffty and Angel, who was out working, they didn't had a lot of options. Husk at least seemed sober enough to tell them to have a good night before going continueing to clean some glasses.

"We will be back" assured Charlie, taking the hand of Vaggie and giving her a bright smile as they passed through.

Once they did, that was it. They were in the old palace. Vaggie thought it was beautiful and she wanted to comment on that when suddenly a voice paralized her in place.

"CHARLIE!" Before a tiny man (well, tiny for general standards, he was actually her same height) came crashing against Charlie to squeeze her on a bear hug that took the air out of her. "MY BABY! IT'S SO GOOD TO SEE YOU, I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!"

"Papa…" struggled to say Charlie, smiling down at him. "I am happy to see you too. I can't breath."

"Oh, sorry, my bad" the man laughed, finally letting her go, but still looking up with the same look of adoration from before. "Sorry, I just missed you so much and oh" Only then the man seemed to notice Vaggie. He started to jump slightly in place, giggling to himself. "Is that…? Is she really…?"

Charlie nodded, now she being to one to beam with pride.

"Papa, I present to you Vaggie, my girlfriend. Vaggie, this is my papa, Lucifer Morningstar."

"Oh, she can call me Luci or whatever she wants!" declared Lucifer, now crushing Vaggie on a new hug. Vaggie was shocked not by how strong it was, which it was still a lot, but how obviously contained it was. "You are so much prettier than Alastor said you were! Oh, not that he said you were ugly or anything, that is not what I mean! I mean, I can see why you are togehter. Wait, no, thar sounds weird, doesn't it? I didn't say that is all about appearences or something! Unless it is, then who I am to judge? Young love and all that I say!"

"Papa" groaned Charlie, covering her eyes with a hand.

When she managed to breath again, Vaggie had to laugh a little over the fretting. The familiar fretting that she could recognize in Charlie too. Besides the height and other details that were from Alastor, there was no doubt that they were father and daughter.

"Thank you, sir" said sincerely, understanding that he was trying to be welcoming, accepting and flexible all at the same time. It was a lot more than what she expected so she would take it happily. "Thanks for having me over. Your house is beautiful."

The smile of Lucifer could have illuminated a whole universe. She felt like her previous nerve were flushing away in his presence. Charlie was right, there was nothing scary about him. Another lie from Heaven for the tally.

"You are most welcome, Vaggie. Alastor is just about to finish dinner, why don't you come with me?" said the king of hell, offering his arm up for Charlie to take as they walked over to the dinning room, a huge place with a long table covered in warm tones.

At the center of the table there was a beautiful bouquet of hellish flowers that uselessly tried to chomp at them when passing. As a true gentleman, Lucifer pulled out the chair for the both of them, sitting side to side in the table.

"Darling, I heard you embarassing our daughter" came the voice of Alastor from a radio on top of the chimney beyond the head of the table. "If you are done with that, would you mind taking out the drinks from the freezer and start serving while I finish the meat?"

A gold dusted blush extended through Lucifer's face. He gave a awkward laugh and excused himself to bring the drinks, but they could still hear him replying "I wasn't embarassing her, I was trying to socialize, jeez" as he went down the hallway.

"Now you see why I didn't bring you earlier" joked Charlie, playing with a napkin on her hands. "Don't get me wrong, I love papa, he is the best! But he can be a bit…" she made a vague gesture with her hand, not knowing how to finish the sentence. "It's not his fault, he just… doesn't get outside a lot."

"It's okay" Vaggie put her hand on top of Charlie's on the table. Awkward or not, she could still see very clearly that her girlfriend had nothing but affection for the king. "I have no real frame of reference for parents, so as far I am concerned, this is the best dinner with parents ever already."

"Oh, and you still haven't tasted dad's food! He is the best in the kitchen."

"Years and years of practice!" commented Lucifer, a line of buckets full of ice and bottles following him behind and softly landing on the table. "You wouldn't even know that man used to eat raw carcasses of road kill for breakfast. Don't even get me started in the smell that it would leave in my kitchen" Lucifer opened up one of the bottles and started serving for Charlie, holding the bottle from the bottom like a experienced waiter. "Don't worry, these are all non alcoholic because I know my baby girl likes it that way. Vaggie, you are not driving tonight so you can pick your poison freely. No judgement here. I will be having some wine and Alastor probably will want his brandy after dinner."

"I will have the same as Charlie" That seemed the easiest choice. She wasn't good with her alcohol to the point she legitimately could not understand why people got addicted to it.

"As you wish" Lucifer served her with ease and then opened up another bottle, filling up his own glass as he sat at the head of the table. "Sooo… Alastor told me about what happened on TV. I am so sorry. Do you want me to leave that mean reporter homeless, sweetie?"

The suggestion was left out so casually that Charlie almost dropped her glass before taking the first zip.

"Papa!"

"What? I can do that. I don't know if you knew this, sweetheart, but I am kind of the king here. I could get her replaced and blacklisted with a few calls. You just say the word and it's done" Lucifer finished his statement taking a zip, just as he had just declared going to the market or something as mundane at that.

Charlie was so stunned that for a moment she didn't know what to say.

"Well, she was a homophobic bitch" commented Vaggie to her own glass, making Charlie to now turn on her.

"Vaggie!"

"She was" Vaggie shrugged. "The world wouldn't be worse off either."

"Yeah, see? I like her, she gets it."

Vaggie drank her drink to try to hide how much the approval of the man made her happy. King or not, he was first and foremost Charlie's father. And honestly, she couldn't find it on herself to feel very compassionate towards the woman who quite literally laughed at her girlfriend and made a mockery out of her in teleivision. Fuck her.

"I can't believe the both of you! No, I don't want to make someone homeless just because of a bad experience!"

Vaggie smiled to her. She knew Charlie would say that, that is why she loved her.

"Sweetheart, she fist fight you. She put her hands on you. I barely managed to stop Alastor from making her into our next meal."

"Why would I want that either?!"

"Oh, no, that would have been for his satisfaction. But hopefully would have send a message not to mess with my daughter."

"Papa, no."

Lucifer sighed deeply, dramatically.

"As my duckling commands, so I obey" declared, rising his glass. "You will live another day, mean reporter who was also apparently homophobic."

Charlie rolled her eyes at the display and Vaggie chuckled a bit. She definitely could get used to this dynamic. It was nice seeing other people besides herself that were concerned with protecting Charlie.

"Well, since I am not abusing my power right now" commented Lucifer, offering a conciliatory smile to his daughter, "how about you tell me about those renovations that Alastor has been making at your hotel? Don't tell the guy" added in a conspiratorial tone, "but he really, really suck at interior design so I can only imagine what he did."

"For your information, your Majesty" said Alastor, bringing a huge tray that had to be carried by his tentacles, still covered with mittens for protection. Other tentacles were bringing the rest of the food behind him. " ended up being a rather impressive building. If it doesn't attract all the eyes of the needy souls in hell, I don't know what will."

"Yeah, that doesn't sound as flattering as you think, babe" commented Lucifer, standing up briefly to move a chair for Alastor. Alastor nodded in recognition for the gesture and Lucifer let a hand rub the back of the man briefly before sitting again. "A neon sign is also going to attract looks no matter how ugly it is."

"Well, when you come visit, you can have an opinion on it's decor" declared Alastor, lifting the cover of the tray and taking on the collective admiration for the frankly delicious looking piece of meat.

"What is it, dad?" asked Charlie tentatively, almost as she didn't even want to know.

"We are in the presence of company, my dear, so of course is venison" said Alastor, receiving the big knifes from the hands of Lucifer to give the first cut. "The cannibal meat is for especial ocassions, you know that. It becomes dull if you eat it all the time."

"He is joking, right?" commented Vaggie, looking for confirmation on Charlie's face, but all she could give her was a evasive smile.

"Listen, don't knock it until you try it" commented Lucifer. "I was a squeamish at first too, so I get it, but as long you don't use angelic steel the sinners can be cut indefintely, so it's not like people actually die from it. Some even offer themselves up to be cut. It's a whole thing. And Alastor makes it taste good all the same so I can't complain."

"Why, thank you, darling" Alastor served a big piece to the plate of Lucifer and kissed the top of his head.

"Just so we are clear, I haven't eaten it again since knowing that is what it was" said Charlie, clearly uncomfortable.

"I don't mind" said Vaggie, earning a surprised look from her girlfriend. "I mean, I don't want to think about it, but it's like with every other meat, right? And if people aren't dying from it, I don't know, it could be worse. Out of every horrible thing people do to each other in hell, at least that could be consentual."

Besides, given that her previous "job" was actually killing people, she didn't really feel able to be judging so harashly.

"Ah, that is the most intelligent thing I heard from you" said Alistor, now serving her another generous portion. Every portion had to be generous to count for the amount of meat there was.

"But I still don't think I want to try it."

"And the intelligence is gone."

"Dad."

"I am kidding, my fawn, I am kidding" Alastor chuckled, serving himself last and only then sitting down as Lucifer filled his glass. "Thank you, dear."

Besides finding out that her girlfriend have been an unwilling cannibal and the king of hell was a willing one, the rest of their conversation was light and pleasant over the delicious meal that everyone praised, for Alastor's delight.

"Oh, oh, oh!" said Charlie, suddenly attacked by a new idea. "How about when we finish do we bring the family pictures? I have so very little of them at home."

"The baby pictures?" suggested Lucifer, turning his head to Alastor with a smile at the corner of his lips.

Charlie applauded.

"Oh, and can you both tell the story of how I was made? I love that one."

"You never get tired of those stories, don't you, dear?" said Alastor, snapping his finger so all the empty plates fell into a black void and appeared again at the other side of the table, already pilled up. "Alright. I will bring the pictures. Lucifer, can you bring the dessert?"

"Sure thing" said, dissapearing on his own portal to the kitchen. It seemed that after a big meal like that one they felt lazy enough to rely more on their magic.

"They both tell it so well. I used to get to sleep to it all the time" commented Charlie, rubbing the arm of Vaggie. "I never told you either how I was made, right?"

"Magic and fairy dust I assumed" said Vaggie, only half jokingly, just when both parents came back.

The dessert was ice cream in enchanted cups that could change the flavor to whatever they wanted.

"Close, very close in fact" Lucifer sighed, leaving just a cup of coffe for Alastor when he came back, bringing an album with him. "Do you want to start, babe?"

"You can go this one chance, dear. I prefer to hear you tonight" Alastor took a zip of the coffe as Lucifer went looking on the album, going to the very start.

"Well, as Charlie knows, it took a long time for us to decide that we actually wanted a child. The idea of a heir is kinda pointless when you are essentially immortal and we had already decided to keep our marriage on the low, so I wasn't doing much to expand my last name already. Likewise, Alastor didn't want his last name there either in case someone connected it to him and try to use it as leverage.

"So if we wanted to have a kid, it would have to be just because we just really wanted a kid. To see them grow up, walk around and cry. We knew it wasn't going to be a breeze, because kids never are, but we resolved that we could do it. Love or resources weren't an issue. We had our own routine established already, but we were willing to make space for someone else there.

Once we put our minds to it, the next step was to decide the kind of child. I thought the obvious choice was adoption, since Alastor is a sinner and they can't normally reproduce, because it's "unnatural" or whatever. Some other dumb law of nature that I thought you just couldn't break. But I understimated the creativity of Alastor.

He made me know very clearly that he wanted to try to make our own kid, with our own markings if possible. If that didn't worked out, only then we would try adoption.

You see, I technically can create life already. You already know just by seeing Razzle, Dazzle or Keekee But neither of them can be considered truly an individual the same way that kids are. Razzle and Dazzle exist solely as Charlie's companions and protectors. Keekee exist solely to be the key to the hotel. They can't want anymore than that because they don't have the imagination, creativity, ambition or anything that makes each person go in search of their interests. They will never grew old or get sick. They will never have an original creative thought on their minds.

It sounds like I am dissing them, but I am not. It's just how they were meant to be, living objects for that one purpose that they will carry out with the simple joy of just doing a good job.

A kid is none of that. Sure, neither of us had that much experience with children, but we knew that at least. Not surprisingly at all, the one who gave free will to humanity thought it was important for our child to have it as well. We would raise them the best way we could and see them grow, like all parents do, only to be surprised for who they turned to be. We didn't want any of this if we couldn't have that pride of seeing our kid deciding their own way, even if it was separate from us.

And that was an issue right off the bat, because I really couldn't do that. I couldn't just create something out of nothing and gave it indepedent thought, no matter how hard I tried. With Adam and Eve it was easy because they were already living beings who just lacked awareness of themselves, so all I had to do was give it to them. Most of the work was already cut out for me, but this was different.

It was Alastor the one who suggested we started out with a dollie. Very small, but already containing the traits we wanted our child to have. That I could do no problem."

Lucifer showed off the very first picture in the album. In the middle of a large white bowl put on the floor, surrounded by a pentagram, laid a tiny figurine made of claw that almost looked like a painted bean.

"I made it all myself. I won't bore you with the details of how much or how long we talked about which traits of us we wanted to see realized, but I can tell you there was a lot of conversations about it. In the end we couldn't decide on eye colors, so we though eh, why not make our especial girl even more especial with eyes of each of her parents? Now of course she had to have Alastor's tail. I insisted on that" commented Lucifer, passing to the next picture where the figure that was already tiny had an even tinier triangle texturized to look like hair. "The red fingers, let me tell you, were a bitch to get in there and make it look right. Have you ever tried to give a fetus a manicure? I don't really recommend it. But I did it."

Another picture of a very tired looking Lucifer, rising a thumb eye with the paint brush in hand. For every progress in the figurine, the blonde hair, the black antlers, the red cheeks, the black dot for the nose, the hooves, there was a new picture showing the progress until finally the figurine did looked like a tiny version of Charlie curled up on herself.

"Isn't that the cutest thing that you have ever seen in your life?" cooed Lucifer. "Just imagine how cute that would have been, a tiny Charlie to carry on your pocket and whenever you need her, there she is, tiny Charlie! Sometimes I really wish I had made two, one just to keep for myself to remind me my baby girl used to be like that."

"She was lovely" added Alastor, looking up from his coffe to the picture, having the same nostalgic smile as his husband. "She still is."

"And made all by hand, every single detail made to perfection" said Lucifer, booping the nose of Charlie and she smiled, resting her chin on her hand.

Vaggie really liked this, this warm environment that they have formed. She wondered if that is how family is supposed to feel like. Lucifer again at the album, passing to the next page where now the figure was surrounded by what looked to be an egg marked by strips of gold and green surrounding it.

"Now we had to feed her our magic. We quickly find out that it wasn't easy. Whenever Alastor's magic attached itself to our baby, the next moment rejected my own and viceversa whenever it did absorved mine. If we were two sinners or two fallen angel or whatever, we could have probably finished the entire thing in a few days tops. But as it were, we had to be very careful with how much magic we have to her, for how long and never let it go without a charge from any of us. The first weeks were a nightmare, we barely slept at all trying to figure out the right formula so she was our daughter, equal parts of both of us. Somehow we ended up finding the rythm. It was exhausting, but it was worth every second of it when she started growing."

Lucifer passed to another photograph of the same bowl, the same golden and green egg, but at the center of it was clear the figurine had gotten at least three times bigger. It was still not bigger than Lucifer's fist.

"Can you see that her hair wasn't still real hair at this point?" Vaggie inspected it a little further and realized that he was right. But the skin already was starting to look less like hardened clay and more soft, like returning to a previous state. "You have to understand that neither of us have ever done something like this before, so we didn't really knew what to expect or what was normal. Nothing on this was normal already, we were in the dark. Al can confirm that I was kinda losing my mind a bit wondering if after a while she was really growing at all or we were wasting our efforts."

"Neither of us slept those nights either" affirmed Alastor, nodding along as he reached his hand to touch the cheek of Lucifer.

Lucifer blushed, taking the hand and kissing the knuckles before continueing, leaving it to rest on top of his other arm.

"That is the thing when you keep watching the same thing every day for hour. It's hard to notice any change unless they happen suddenly and this was anything but sudden. The pictures did helped a lot. The Charlie that was on the first day had nothing with the Charlie that was after three months" The next picture now showed what definitely looked like a little baby compared to the other where there was only a figurine. "Little by little, she was coming along. We haven't announced to the other sins just yet, but we have bought her so much clothing and toys for the room we picked up for her. I couldn't wait to see her dressed up on all the cute outfits I found for her. What toys were going to be her favorite? How was she going to want to pass the time? Would she get my taste for sweet things or turn her nose to them like Al? I could help to form her physical form, but everything else about her was still a mystery. Those were the best days because she continued growing and growing, just as beautiful as we imagined she could be."

Lucifer grimaced before turning the page. On the picture there Charlie already looked as a normal baby, covered in a blanket, the egg of magic around her nowhere to be found. She looked as if she was sleeping.

"One day she wouldn't take any more magic" continued Lucifer, his voice suddenly adquiring a new melancholic tone. He frowned. "She was fully formed. She should have been ready. But she wouldn't open her eyes or take her first breath. It was like she was stillborn. After five months of continuos work… that wasn't what we wanted."

Alastor squeezed the arm of his husband, looking down as well with no expression beyond his pertual smile. It was easy to imagine that they were both destroyed.

"I… " started Alastor softly, but he needed a moment to gather his words again. "I didn't realize how much I had also been expecting her to be there until then. I gave my magic and waited for the best, but many of the preparations were done by Lucifer and he was the one who wouldn't shut up about how excited he was. I just kept thinking that even if this fails, it was okay. We could always try again, as many times as we want to get it right. We could spend all of eternity trying if that is what it took. But when I saw her there and she wasn't doing anything, I…"

It seemed he had been left without knowing how to continue, or wanting to. Lucifer looked down to the picture and started smiling as he passed to the next page.

"I asked Alastor to let me try something different. I hold Charlie on my arms, for the first time since I sculpted her original form, and I breathed into her every portion of magic I could. All my hopes, dreams, love, my desperation even. I wanted to see her smile so badly that I didn't know what I would have done if it didn't work. I had done the same thing for some of my plants when they died, but I didn't know if it was going to work for anything more complex than that."

"And then it worked" said Alastor, looking up to his husband like he was the most amazing thing he had ever seen. "She started crying right there. Lucifer cried worst. Just sobbing all over the place. He was so ugly and pathetic."

"Yeah, I was" accepted Lucifer with a smile. He reached over to kiss his husband on the lips, Alastor meeting him halfway through. "I couldn't even fucking speak for five minutes. She was the most precious little thing that had ever existed in all of creation. I mean, just look at her!" The picture in question now showed the curious look of baby Charlie over the shoulder of Lucifer. "How could you not think that was it, fuck all babies in the universe, this one is the best, when you see this face?"

"The distribution of magic wasn't as equal as we hoped in the end" added Alastor, tracing a finger over the stitches at the side of Charlie's mouth that were in the pictures. "For one, I didn't expect her to inherit this aspect of my demonic form when Lucifer never designed it. But in the other hand, she probably had more magic of Lucifer than mine inside since he was the final touch."

"That is why she is my little baby" Lucifer now made a kissy face to the adult Charlie, pinching her cheek despite the blush on her. Vaggie chuckled behind her hand, finding this side of her too adorable to interrupt. "My little duckling."

"She is still my daughter too" Alastor's ear flattened against his skull.

"Yeah, I know, that is why she is perfect." Lucifer said it like that was obvious enough already, completely unaware of how the radio demon was disarmed by it. "If she was all me, then what would be the point?"

Alastor cleared his throat a bit, regaining his composure as if he had been prepared for a spat.

"In any case, that is the story of how my little fawn came to grace our lives" finalized, reaching to find the hand of Charlie and squeezed once.

After that, Lucifer closed that album and showed Vaggie of other pictures of Charlie as a real baby. Her duckie onesie that Lucifer had bough in every color of the rainbow. Her face covered in paint as she was painting in Lucifer's lap. Her first crawl, her first step. The first time she got Alastor's coat filthy with her baby food, drawing a happy face on it.

"Why isn't Alastor on any of these?" asked after a while, noticing it was always the feet of the radio demon near his baby or his hands reaching for her, but nothing else.

"Oh, he is camera shy" said Lucifer with a teasing smile, making Alastor to squint his eyes at him.

"This face was made for radio" pointed out the demon. "New technology doesn't mesh well with me and I don't mesh well with it."

"So as I said, camera shy."

Alastor looked displeased, but didn't say more as Lucifer kept going about the childhood of Charlie. By the time they have reached the first day of Charlie in the kindergarten, Charlie the adult was yawning and Vaggie rubbed her eyes. It was rather later, so they had to go.

Lucifer insisted on them taking the rest of the ice cream for the hotel and a tupperware with some of the leftover meat to eat tomorrow. Vaggie accepted it all, stammering over her words to try to say thank you and everything was wonderful, while Charlie was hugging Alastor.

"See you at the hotel, dad."

"For sure, dear."

Charlie also hugged Lucifer, both of them squeezing each other for a bit until they finally let go, laughing as they breath again.

"Love you, papa!"

"Love you too, duckling. Vaggie, you can come in whenever you want! I will show you the report cards of Charlie in second grade!"

After the two women traspassed the portal, Lucifer closed it off again with a sigh.

"Tired?" asked Alastor, brushing the blonde hair with his claws. Lucifer leaned into the contact, a lazy smile in his lips.

"Yeah" admitted, stretching out.

They both left the dishes to wash in the morning and went up to their bedroom. On the hallway to it they were greeted by the family portrait they got made when Charlie had just turned 18, she sitting in the middle of her two parents as they stand behind her. Lucifer standing proud with both hands on his cane while Alastor's hand was over the shoulder of their daughter.

There were other portraits like that of their little family, alongside the pictures of a more grown up Charlie growing up.

"I feel like I am so out of practice for talking that long. My throat is fucked" commented Lucifer, unbottoning his shirt as they finally came inside. The lights turned on automatically, revealing a bunch of photographs of the three of them mounted on the wall. Some of them looked a bit glitched out on the margins, like something was not quite right, but they were still pretty clear.

Lucifer sat on the edge of their bed and gave up to pretend he wanted to undress the normal way. He just snapped his fingers to have instead his duckie pajama, layind down as he waited Alastor to join him.

"I am surprised you didn't actually showed her any of my pictures" Alastor took out his pocket watch and put on his nighstand, where a frammed photograph of him laying on that same bed with a baby Charlie that finally had stopped crying.

He still remembered how close he was to falling asleep too when suddenly Lucifer appeared with his camera in hand.

You are a parent now, parents appear on the baby pictures, babe. It's part of the deal you signed up for now, had said his husband and he was just way too exhausted, emotionally and physically, to really argue or make the camera explode as he very well could. It was the same day that Charlie had woke up for the first time. The same day that they thought their attempt had been a failure. Alastor had no idea how truly he had wished for it to work until the moment it seemed it wouldn't.

He had only cried a few times when he was alive, back on Earth, before he knew to form a good enough armor. Never since coming to hell.

He still deeply appreciated how, no matter how many times they told the story of that day, Lucifer never once let it slip how the radio demon had shed tears looking at a lifeless Charlie.

"I told you, those ones are for me and Charlie" Lucifer yawned loudly, getting under the covers when he saw Alastor doing the same. "Vaggie will need to get her a nice ring if she wants the family privileges."

"Please, don't say that to Charlie" pointed out Alastor. On the bed, Lucifer hugged at the pillow, turning to him. "What?"

"I like her. She seems nice."

"Did you forget already about the putting an angelic spear against my neck?"

"Oh, I am sorry, mister I am the big bad Radio Demon, overlord with a hundread souls at my disposition. Did the mean fallen angel without an eye or wings scared you? Do you need me to hold your hand?" Lucifer teased, until Alastor raised an eyebrow and he huffed, offended. "Seriously? You thought I wouldn't recognize one of my own?"

"You barely reacted to her presence, you can understand my confusion."

"Oh, please. If she was still an angel, then I would have a reason to be concerned. But us fallen angel have to stick together!" Lucifer moved a little, taking his hand under the covers as he yawned again, his eyes closing already. "Does Charlie know?"

"I wouldn't know." Alastor put away his monocle, accomodating in the bed as the lights turned off with a gesture of his wrist. "I will try to find out. If she doesn't, I assume we won't tell her either."

"Obviously…" Lucifer's voice was starting to drift off. "Falling really, really sucks. Be nice to her, babe."

Alastor kissed his forehead, not promising anything but at least willing to listen to him.

[demoneyecandy]

Lust and Love - Part 1

Work: Lust and Love (Part 1)

WC: 6.4k Relationship: Asmodeus x Reader, Asmodeus x MC AFAB reader, she/her pronouns and gendered terms used for reader Warning: Explicit, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Yes, my Asmo is probably ooc, do I care? Not really. He’s my poor little meow meow and I’ll decide why he’s crying.

Description: Asmodeus is having trouble with self-destructive habits, as usual, but this time M/C is there to break him out of his spiral. He shows his appreciation in a very on-brand way.

The fifth-born knew that people talked about him. How could they not? He was simply the most interesting being in all three realms, who could blame them? Some would call him flawless, confident, and sensual – he wasn’t prized in the Celestial Realm for nothing. Others called him vapid, self-absorbed, apathetic, loose, among other nasty comments. If anyone asked, he’d reply that he didn’t pay any attention to the haters. Why would they matter when everyone else knows he’s perfect? And if anyone noticed that after a day with more insults than usual Asmo would be tanked within half an hour of leaving the house? Well, that was just a coincidence. They all know he loves to party, don’t make it a bigger deal than it needs to be.

With the introduction of social media to the Devildom his behavior only spiraled out of control. Devilgram served as a permanent reminder that no matter what he did he would not be universally loved. For someone like Asmo, that was his weakness. The insults cut a lot deeper than he would ever show. His whole identity was based around being desirable. He was the Avatar of Lust, not a scumbag or shut-in like his brothers.

Though the people leaving those comments kept their voices down when he passed them in the halls at RAD, the anonymity of the internet emboldened them. The negative comments were quickly reported by his fans but that didn’t stop them from being burned into his mind. From the more basic “whore” and “stuck-up bitch” to the more involved, “Who does he think he is? He’s not that cute”, “Idk why this loser has so many simps”, “bet he only has this many likes on his posts because he fucked them all lmao”, he had gotten all types of negative comments on his social media posts. When he would complain to his brothers in his usual over-the-top fashion, eyes full of tears and voice several octaves higher than it needed to be, they would shrug him off the same way they did when he told them about his favorite hair product line being discontinued or missing a sale at Majolish. In a way, that was probably his fault – if he gave two things the same weight in the way he presented the problem, of course his family would assume it was just Asmo being dramatic again.

Sometimes at night, when memories of the war haunted him, he would open his phone and scroll through the comments on the Devilgram posts he’d made that day. Anything to occupy his thoughts. The positive ones faded into the background – he knew he was beautiful; he knew he was a fashion icon, and that his skin was flawless. He also knew he wasn’t worth the attention he received, and yet he craved it more than air. He’d re-read every nasty thing that had been said about him, letting the words sink in and join the swirling torrent of self-hatred in his head. He genuinely didn’t know why he did it – maybe the same reason he’d go out and indulge in his sin every night he could. Diavolo had once tried to get the brothers to speak to some counselors after they fell, and his counselor had said his behavior seemed like a form of self-harm. That was the last time he saw that poor excuse for a therapist – how in the world could pleasure be harmful? Of course, there were the times where pain was involved, but that was all consensual. He’d never allow anyone to mar his gorgeous skin. He had already spent ages trying every suggestion he’d ever received to make his scars fade to the point that they were nothing more than barely-there pale lines from cuts and missing spots of pigmentation from burns, he certainly wouldn’t risk adding more. He felt like everyone could see them, like everyone was staring, but he knew rationally that they were only noticeable to him.

When the exchange student had first arrived and he had discovered that she was immune to his abilities, he wasn’t ashamed to admit he had spent a few nights making his way through the highlights of his little black book. His booty calls were proof that he was desirable in the form of men and women writhing in his sheets until the early hours of the morning. When he realized that she liked him anyway? That was the best he had felt in a long time. On the outside of course he played it off, keeping up his flirtatious banter with the human. But to realize that there was someone who liked him, not because of his charm? Or because he could make them feel good? It was exhilarating and terrifying. Sure, she likes him now, but what about when she realizes what everyone else has? That he’s nothing but a bed warmer with a pretty face? He dreaded that day. It was coming sooner or later, he knew it, so he would just do his best to keep the human from seeing any of the cracks he covered up with product.

It was one of those nights tonight. He broke a nail and the visible imperfection sent him into a tailspin until he could get to his room and fix his manicure. As he waited for the polish to dry, he was scrolling through the comments on a selfie he had posted during lunch at RAD. M/C had said he looked cute, so he wanted to believe it, but here he was. Giving so much weight to the opinions of people who couldn’t even say shit to his face.

His spiral was interrupted before it could really get going by a knock on his bedroom door. If it were anyone else he’d yell at them to go away, but he knew from the pattern of the knock that it was M/C.

“Just a moment, darling” he called.

Jumping out of bed, he walked over to his vanity to be sure his hair was perfect and his lip gloss didn’t need to be reapplied.  As satisfied with his reflection as he could ever be, he put on a smile and made his way to open his door. Leaning sensually on the doorframe, he gave M/C his best “fuck me” eyes as he greeted them;

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the most delectable human in the three realms. How can I help you, dear?”

M/C’s face lit up and she laughed at the demon’s antics.

“I’m having some trouble winding down for the night, and I thought I could relax here for a little bit. It’s so calming when you play with my hair”.

Asmodeus was both relieved and frustrated as the human walked past him and settled onto his bed. On the one hand, his spiral had been interrupted before he could do anything particularly self-destructive. On the other hand, it meant he was all amped up with negative feelings and no real outlet for them. There was none of the catharsis that comes along with making bad decisions. It was like that dread and anxiety and self-hatred was sitting in his gut, but he certainly wasn’t going to let M/C see him crack if he could help it. He slowly shut his bedroom door and sat next to where his human had made herself comfortable on his bed.

His eyes roamed her body, lingering just a bit too long on her plush thighs and the peek of skin where her pajama top rode up. It took her a second, but she realized where his eyes were lingering, and she quickly pulled down her shirt. That was fine by him, all it did was expose her collarbones, which he took in just as happily. She blushed and turned away, hoping to regain her composure before he noticed the red tint in her cheeks. She had no such luck, but it was cute that she thought she could hide anything from him.

He did his best to keep the predatory glint out of his eyes. The demon knew that if he came on too strong she would back off, like she had on the few occasions he’d run into her after a night out and his confidence got the best of him. The next morning he would pretend he had blacked out, but he treasured the memories of the trembling of her frame beneath his hands when he’d come in close to whisper in her ear some of the naughty thoughts he’d had about her and the startled noise she’d made the time he slapped her ass on his way up to bed. It had been just his luck that Mammon had been at the end of the hallway, so he’d gotten quite the talking to from Lucifer the next morning. Something about not taking advantage of the exchange student, how he had to show more respect, the reputation of Diavolo’s exchange program, blah blah blah. The only thing he had cared about was that it hadn’t been M/C herself who’d told Lucifer, it had been a jealous brother. He had, in fact, felt a lovely spark of lust rise up in his human on every occasion he’d gotten bold from the (frankly, impressive) amount of demonus in his system. After all, he’s a demon, not a monster. Sexual assault is anathema to sexual pleasure and therefore unacceptable at every level for the Avatar of Lust. Sometimes late at night when he’d touch himself he’d remember how she’d looked like a deer in the headlights, so afraid of his touch but so desperately wanting it just the same. Other times, when he was feeling more sentimental, he’d think of her laugh, her smile, the way her eyes softened when she looked at him.

After she thought her face was back to normal (it wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to be the one to tell her that when she just looked so damn cute), she moved around until her head was in his lap and her body was stretched out in a pile of his softest blankets, grabbing his hand and placing it on her head in an unvoiced demand for him to stroke her hair. His heart melted – this was all she ever asked of him. At the same time, a small voice in the back of his head spoke.

You know why she doesn’t try to fuck you, right? You’re not good enough for her and she knows it. I’m sure she’s fucking one of your brothers instead. She’s found someone who could satisfy her in a way you never could. After all, you’re nothing but a placeholder. Easy and good enough for a night, but why would she want you when she could have them? Why would she want damaged goods? A vapid, self-obsessed, pathetic excuse for a demon. You were a shitty angel too.

He shook his head almost imperceptibly, trying to will the thoughts away. He busied himself running his hands through M/C’s hair, carefully untangling any knots he found along the way. Her eyes had closed, letting herself sink into the feeling. There was a gentle smile on her face, and she raised her chin to lean into his touch, leaving her neck completely exposed. Vulnerable. She was allowing herself to be entirely vulnerable with him, a being who could slit her throat in an instant, or tug her hair hard enough to pull her head clean off her body. He felt tears well up in his eyes at her trust, but the thoughts kept coming, taking him back down into that bad place he had been heading for before M/C came to his door.

You’re nothing. She knows you’re nothing, and that’s why she isn’t afraid. Your pact makes you useless, you couldn’t hurt her if you wanted to. You’re a declawed kitten. Pathetic. Why would she want you? She has her pick of suitors in the Devildom, you wouldn’t even make the top-10. She pities you, that’s why she lets you touch her.

M/C had thought it was strange that Asmodeus had been quiet, but she figured he must have been tired, so she wasn’t going to bug him when he was already doing her a favor by calming her down for the night. Truthfully, she had just wanted to see her favorite demon. He had been more withdrawn at home for the last few weeks, spending more nights out at The Fall locking lips with anyone in arm’s reach and chugging demonus like it was water. She was mildly concerned for him. His brothers had said that he got in moods like this sometimes, but at least he wasn’t bringing home a new demon (or demons) every night. M/C wasn’t going to admit it out loud, but she was a little jealous hearing about his past behavior. She knew it was silly, it wasn’t like she even knew him then, and she had no say in what he did in his spare time. It wasn’t like she was a virgin either. Still, Levi had looked at her knowingly when they’d told her, recognizing the envy welling up in her.

She realized that something was wrong when she felt wetness drip onto her cheek.

“Asmo?” M/C opened her eyes, greeted with the most disheveled version of the Avatar of Lust that she’d ever seen. Not that that said much, she rarely saw him with a single hair out of place, but seeing his eyes puffy and tear tracks down his face was enough to seriously concern her. She sat up slowly, reaching to grab his hand from where it had paused in her hair.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” her thumb gently stroked across the back of his hand. Rather than the gesture comforting him, as she’d hoped, he made eye contact only to begin audibly crying. Still unsure what was happening, she pulled herself up onto her knees to face him, bringing her other hand to his face and holding mimicking the motions she was making on the back of his hand along his cheekbone. She tried to keep the movement steady, methodical, to give him something to focus on so he could calm down enough to tell her what was happening. He leaned into her touch, grabbing her hand with his free hand and holding it there like he was scared she’d disappear if he let go. She shushed him quietly, reminding him of her presence whenever he seemed to be retreating into his own head.

Neither of them know how long it was before Asmodeus’s sobbing turned into pathetic little hiccupping, his eyes long since dried out. They sat in silence for a few minutes, each of them too afraid to drag them back to the present moment. M/C spoke first.

“Can I get you anything? Some water? A washcloth?”

He nodded, avoiding eye contact out of sheer embarrassment and fear of what would happen next. The one thing he didn’t want to happen above all else had happened, and now she was going to steer clear of him. He was sure of it.

Reluctantly, he let go of her hand as she went to his bathroom in search of what he needed. Now alone on his bed, he felt so small and so fragile. He had only known M/C for a very, very small faction of his very, very long existence, but somehow he couldn’t imagine going back to the way things were before he’d met her – especially as she continued to live in the House of Lamentation and develop her relationship with his brothers and the residents of both the Demon Lord’s Castle and Purgatory Hall. He knew she was kind and patient, but all his mind would let him see was her laying under some nondescript body, laughing about how pathetic the fifth-born was as she was pleasured by someone else, letting the world know how weak and inadequate he was. That he was an embarrassment to his title. He would have kept crying at that point, but he wasn’t sure his body even had that much water left. This was going to do such a number on his skin, he’d really need to step up his game with his skincare routine. Going through his plan of attack was enough to focus his mind and calm him down in the few minutes it took M/C to find a drinking glass and a washcloth in his enormous bathroom.

The human handed him the glass, waiting for him to drink half before she took it from his hands to place on his nightstand. She gently wiped his face with the damp cloth, knowing he’d feel better without the salt staining his skin. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so delicate with him, treating him like a valuable rather than something easily replaceable. The thought made his heart hurt, and brought with it a new wave of thoughts about how he wasn’t treated like that because he really wasn’t valuable. That his human was mistaken and she’d know it soon enough. She’d seen the first crack in his façade, it wouldn’t be too long now before she saw the rest.

As she went to get up to place the washcloth back in the bathroom, he made a little noise and grabbed for her hand.

“Asmo, I have to put this away. I’m not going anywhere, I swear, I just don’t want to leave something damp on your bedsheets”.

Reluctantly, he let go, and she went back to the bathroom as quickly as she could. Asmo had always been needy, this wasn’t news to anyone, but rarely had she seen him so desperate. Sometimes, when it was just the two of them, she could see peeks of the Asmodeus he wanted to hide from the world. She knew the fall had been traumatic for all of them, but she wouldn’t pretend to know the extent of that kind of trauma. It wasn’t something that was her place to draw attention to, because no matter how much she loved them she knew that just love wasn’t enough when it came to dealing with something of that gravity. They needed to share at their pace, if they ever felt comfortable sharing at all. All she could do was hope that this was some kind of turning point for him, and that he was ready to be open with her. Well, as open as was healthy. Baby steps, right?

The demon visibly relaxed when she came back towards him. Climbing over him, she laid down on ‘her’ side of the bed as Asmo called it jokingly (it wasn’t a joke but he was pleading the fifth on that question). She made grabby hands, and a relieved Asmodeus rolled into her side, resting his head on her chest and winding an arm around her waist. She set her chin on top of his head and wrapped her arms around him as best she could. She knew he needed to feel completely safe if he was going to talk about whatever had just happened.

The two laid together for a bit, the sounds of the house creaking and his brothers going about their business throughout the house breaking up the quiet in a way that made it palatable. Finally, Asmodeus spoke in a voice lacking all of his usual bravado and charm.

“So, I’m guessing you’d like to know what that was about”.

“If you feel comfortable sharing. I’m here for you, Asmo, you won’t scare me away. You just have to trust me”.

A beat of silence passed before the man took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was definitely going to be a painful conversation on his end.

“I… I’m not sure where to start. You know what they called me in the Celestial Realm, right?”

A nod.

“The Jewel of the Heavens. My face, my body, my charm, it was something our Father truly valued. I was beautiful, and that’s how I earned my keep. I was an ornament. I didn’t mind it much at the time – why would I care when it was nothing but a positive? Even Lucifer loved to show me off, his beautiful little brother. The pride of the Celestial Realm”.

M/C maintained eye contact, not daring to interrupt but wanting to show she was listening. She moved one hand up to stroke his hair, like he had done to her a million times before.

“When we fell… I don’t think there’s any kind of corollary in a human life. I went from an admired figure, praised for my beauty, to nothing when I made the decision to rebel with my brothers and Lilith. I don’t regret my decision, don’t get me wrong, Lilith was one of the most wonderful beings I’ve met in my life. I still miss her even now”.

The demon broke eye contact, trying to hide the quiver in his voice as he thought of his dead sister. The pain of that kind of loss never actually goes away and it’s harder some days.

“The point is, as a result of that decision, I lost everything that I knew about myself. By the end of the war, I was covered in big, ugly scars, stripped of my status as an angel and turned into a demon - a being that I had been told since I was created was inherently evil, wrong, and unlovable. It took me years before I could look at myself in a mirror again. I wasn’t Asmodeus, Jewel of the Heavens. I was Asmodeus, a vile, unlovable Thing. I had to feel something again, I had to be someone again. That’s how I ended up like this – I found a way I could feel loved again, even if just for a night”.

Or, he thought to himself, more often an hour in a nightclub bathroom.

He continued speaking, too scared to look up at his human’s eyes and see disgust or contempt in them.

“I will never be the me I was again. Never. Even thousands of years later that isn’t something I’ve fully come to terms with yet. I feel broken and wrong. On good days I really do mean what I say – that I’m beautiful, irresistible, absolutely perfect in every way”.

His voice took on a lilt and a small smile twisted the corner of his mouth as he remembered the feeling of power that comes with his moments of genuine confidence. However, as he began again, his voice sounded unsure again and so very small.

“On bad days, it’s all I can do to get out of bed. If I’m not beautiful, if I’m not wanted, what’s the point? What’s the point of any of this? Sometimes, when I make them chase me, when I let them put their hands on me, I feel like I’m wanted. Just for a little while, and that’s enough. What more could I ask for? After all, I’m not Mammon, can’t get too greedy”.

He tacked on a joke at the end, complete with a clearly forced laugh, trying to lighten the atmosphere that had settled over his room. He felt M/C press her lips to the crown of his head, still stroking his hair softly. She wasn’t quite sure how to respond, and she knew she had to be careful with the next thing out of her mouth.

“Asmodeus, you are worth so much. To so many people. To your brothers, to all of our friends, to me. I’m so proud of you for sharing that with me, it can’t have been easy”.

As she looked down, seeking his eyes, the demon saw only compassion in those eyes. It was a strange sight for him, and it made him feel something inside that he knew he had felt before, but he couldn’t quite remember when. It felt like there were butterflies in his stomach. There was some tension between them. Though it had an element of lust, it was moreso the unidentified emotion. He didn’t know what to do about that, so he decided to go with what he knew best- lust. Acting on muscle memory, he reached up to pull M/C’s head down to his. Surprised by Asmo pulling her down into a kiss when moments before he had been so vulnerable, M/C gasped and froze, allowing her pactmate to gain the upper hand.

The kiss was hungry and desperate from the start, definitely not how she imagined their first kiss beyond a casual peck on the lips, but it felt too good for her to dwell on that for long. With his tongue exploring her mouth he moved from his spot curled up on her side to get completely on top, pinning her in place. He held her wrists firmly above her head and his knees kept her thighs in place. His grip on her was somehow delicate and firm at the same time. The two let out little moans and pants between kisses, each losing themselves in the feeling of the other’s clothed body on their own. When Asmodeus separated their mouths, she followed his lips as far as she could, needing more. He shot her a look as though telling her to stay put, and she obeyed. His eyes were blown wide, glowing like a sunset. It was more out of habit than anything else since they knew his charm did nothing to her but it was undeniably beautiful.

The demon traced down her neck with messy kisses. If he weren’t a demon, she’d think he seemed like a man possessed. Between little nibbles and sucking, he panted out everything he was thinking, as if speaking it into her skin would make it so. When she concentrated, she could make out some of what he was saying over and over, almost like a prayer.

“I’ll be so good for you. I’ll make you feel so good, you won’t regret this. This will make you love me, I know it”.

She didn’t like to use her pact, but he was too lost in her body to listen if she asked nicely and his grip was too strong for her to break.

“Asmodeus, stop”.

He froze, a confused and hurt look on his face.

“Did I do something wrong?”

His eyes glowed brighter, as if subconsciously trying to fix whatever mistake he had made.

“Let go of me”. She tried to keep her voice even and maintain eye contact. She wanted to convey that she wasn’t upset, but he was clearly panicking inside his head.

The demon released her wrists, placing them on his own thighs. He tried to look away, ashamed, but the human gently directed his gaze back to her with a finger on his chin. She sat up against the pillows, trying to seem as serious as she could with disheveled clothing and red marks blooming all over her neck.

“Do you think that this is out of pity?” She desperately hoped that she had been reading into it too much, that he knew what she had been afraid to say. Her fears were confirmed when he cast his eyes downward and to the side, staring into space rather than meeting her eyes.

“Asmodeus, I can’t possibly imagine what you went through. You are so strong for going through that and still managing to be the funny, caring, genuine person that I know. What I do have some experience with is needing to feel wanted so badly that I’d let people touch me even when I wanted nothing more than for them to stop. I also know how absolutely garbage it feels when it’s over and they leave without so much as another word, I would just feel so used”. M/C’s eyes teared up as she remembered the feeling, but she blinked them away, willing herself to focus on the man in front of her.

“I never, ever want you to feel that way again. Not if I can help it. I love you, Asmodeus. Let me show you how much”.

A smile finally crossing his lips, albeit a small one, Asmo nodded. This time it was the human who brought their lips together, though their kiss was just as passionate as before. She caught the demon by surprise, rolling them over so she was the one pinning him to the bed. He looked up at M/C with pure adoration in his eyes, electrified by the love he saw reflected in hers and the lust he felt emanating from her soul. Finally confident that they were on the same page, M/C poured all of the affection she could into every touch, every kiss. She felt his hands travel up from their place on her waist to cup her breasts through her pajama shirt, moaning at his touch. Her sounds spurred him on, letting him regain some of his confidence. If there was one thing he knew he was an expert on, it was pleasure. He played with her nipples through her clothing and treasured every noise he was able to pull from her. Each gasp, every sigh, just emboldened him more. By the time he had stripped her of her top, he was fully in his element.

“Asmo”, she begged, “please, let me touch you too”.

She shifted her weight back onto her knees to make room for her demon to get out from under her. Readjusting so they laid side-by-side facing each other, they took the moment to stare into each other’s eyes. M/C’s smile was contagious, and Asmodeus couldn’t help but smile back. She hadn’t even touched him yet and she was already better than his fantasies. He hadn’t dared to let himself imagine her loving him, and he was going to treasure every second he got with her.

Her shaking hands made their way from his abdomen up to his chest, tweaking his nipples just to hear the noise he’d make before she got to work unbuttoning his pajama shirt. The more she teased him with brief touches, the more he squirmed for her. He was this close to ripping it off himself, and he really liked this pj set - he thought it brought out his eyes. Before he could finish deciding if it was worth popping the buttons off and maybe even a few seams, he felt the soft skin of the other’s hands finally trail up and down his torso. The demon made a noise almost like a purr, reminding M/C of his inhumanity in a thrilling way.

“Touch me”, it came out more as a breathy whisper than a demand, but she listened all the same.

Leaning over him to kiss down his neck and chest, the human used one hand to support her weight near his head and the other to trail down his body, stopping to cup his growing erection through his pants. An unexpectedly loud moan cut the air as she bit gently down on his nipple and began to stroke his cock.

“Shhh baby”, she said in a voice he’d never heard from her before, “You don’t want your brothers hearing and coming in here to stop us, do you?”. It was only then that he remembered he hadn’t locked his door earlier. From the grin spreading across her face as she looked towards the door, she knew it too. Asmo had never seen her look more mischievous in the whole time he’d known her and he was living for it. He was pretty sure he was witnessing the creation of a monster and he had no regrets, except that they hadn’t done this sooner.

Taking his silence for agreement, she got up only to kneel on the floor at the edge of the bed. She motioned for him to sit up and strip, which he did gladly. She took in the sight of his cock hungrily, eyes glazed over imagining what it would feel like in her pussy. He had seen that look many times and knew exactly what was going through her mind. Still, if he didn’t tease, would he even be Asmo?

With his bottoms thrown towards his laundry hamper, he spread his legs enticingly and grabbed the base of his cock. He stroked himself slowly, seeing M/C’s eyes fixate on a drop of precome on the head.

“Do you like what you see, my dear?” She could hear the grin in his voice. It was comforting to hear him sound like his usual confident self again.

“Very much”. Her hands began to rub along his thighs, appreciating the lean muscle she felt underneath her fingertips. “Can I taste you?”

“I thought you’d never ask, darling. Show me how you worship me in your daydreams”.

Her face lit up bright red. He couldn’t know, could he? He was just guessing, it was just dirty talk… right?

Swallowing the embarrassment she felt at the idea that Asmo knew the content of her fantasies, she began to rub soothing circles into his skin and kiss up and down his inner thighs.

“Oh sweetheart, I know you do more than that in those dreams of yours. How about you keep going, and you let me know if any of this rings a bell”. At this she began nipping at his skin every few kisses, soothing over any bites she made with her tongue.

“Let’s see, I think one of my favorites so far was in the library the other day. It was you, me, Satan, and Levi studying for the upcoming Seductive Speechcraft exam. About the time we were doing our individual reading, I recall you having some particularly interesting ideas. How did it start again?”

Her hand replaced his own stroking him, placing gentle kisses on his balls. She didn’t want this to end too soon and, honestly, she was curious if he actually did know what she had been thinking or if he just picked up on her getting horny that day and was trying to mess with her.

“Ah, yes”, his breath hitched as she dragged her tongue up the length of his dick, swirling around his head, only to kiss back down his shaft. “We were studying together, the same four of us that were actually there, but Levi and Satan got up to get a snack for us all. Once they left, I turned to you and told you how beautiful you looked”.

M/C’s hand sped up, and she leaned down to start sucking on the tip of his cock, keeping a steady pressure, and feeling proud at the flush in his cheeks. Slowly, she began to take him inch by inch in her mouth.

“I think after some flirting it took a rather raunchy turn, so let’s skip to the good part. I distinctly remember you dreaming of me sticking my hand down your panties and fingering you open, whispering sweet nothings to you the whole time”. M/C’s moan was muffled by the dick halfway down her throat, sending vibrations up Asmo’s cock. The sound of pleasure he made in response caused her to rub her thighs together, her own arousal obvious.

“What happened next? I think I lost my train of thought..”. M/C had gone down on him as far as she could, her nose nestled in the well-trimmed pubic hair on his pelvis. Asmodeus threaded his hand through her hair, pulling it up into a makeshift handle. She moaned, knowing what was about to happen. Asmo giggled, appreciating how eager she was for him to use her.

“That’s right”, he stared down at the woman with hooded eyes and his cocky grin, clearly back in his element, “you begged me to fuck your face”. Gripping her hair, he pulled back and thrust back into her mouth, hard. He let out a delighted gasp as her throat constricted around his dick.

“Darling, you feel so good, you’re such a good girl for me”, M/C’s eyes rolled back at the praise and as Asmo picked up the pace of his hips, she could do nothing but relax into his grip and let him use her. As his hips stuttered, she could feel him approaching his orgasm. Asmodeus made the most erotic sound the human had ever heard as he pulled her face flush to his body and released down her throat. M/C quickly swallowed, eager for more of him. He panted gently as he came down, relaxing his grip and transitioning to slowly smoothing her hair. The pair sat there for a moment to catch their breath.

“Holy shit”, M/C was the first to break the silence.

“Holy shit is right”, Asmodeus replied with a hungry grin. He reached a hand down to pull M/C up from her knees and into his lap. The two embraced, and Asmodeus felt himself hardening again at how he could taste himself on her tongue.

“Your turn now, sweetheart”, the demon cooed. Before M/C could say a word, the world spun and suddenly Asmodeus was laying on the bed and she found herself on her knees above his face. He licked his lips in anticipation before lowering her onto his face.

Maybe it was a demon thing, or maybe it was an Asmodeus thing, but the way his tongue moved on her clit and between her labia was like nothing she had experienced before. His mouth was hot, and wet, and almost electrifying as it managed to pinpoint her every weak spot. Every time she ground her hips into his face, embracing pleasure instead of running from it like she had with so many other men before him, he rewarded her with a moan, sending vibrations up into her body. The closer that M/C got to the edge, the harder she pulled on his soft curls, forgetting her own taunts about his brothers hearing and getting progressively louder. She came with a desperate cry of his name, squirting onto his face, which the demon excitedly lapped up with his tongue. M/C rolled off of his face and flopped bonelessly onto the bed. Asmodeus wasted no time climbing on top of her and bringing their lips together yet again, this time with a ferocity she had only imagined in her most erotic dreams. The feeling of his hard cock on the soft skin of her thigh made them both shiver in anticipation.

“Are you ready for me?” Asmodeus began, “I meant it before when I said I’d make it good for you. I want to make you cum harder than you’ve ever cum before”.

“Well,” M/C said breathlessly, “mission accomplished”.

“Oh honey,” the demon laughed and his eyes began to glow again, “you have no idea what I’m capable of”.

Let me know what you guys thought! I’m going to write a second part if there’s interest. Cross-posted to AO3 with the same username. Thanks for reading <3  

[thebrandywine]

20 Questions for Fic Authors

@catgirladjacent tagged me! and i like to infodump! let's go!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

97 including some that are under pseuds, though I did orphan a few once I started fixating on Resident Evil more fully. I was embarrassed lmao

2. What is your AO3 wordcount?

865,796 o__o

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Resident Evil exclusively now!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

don't worry about this one cuz it's under a pseud lol

[every picture tells a story], 387 kudos

[lantern], 376 kudos

broken machine, 356 kudos

[the quality of mercy], 332 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do!!! more often than not it's just with some emojis now lol but i relish and treasure every single comment i get

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh, this one has yet to be published :) don't worry! <3

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

hmm... probably Two Cakes (which is coming out this month)? made me feel all sappy at least :]

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not now, but I definitely got some hateful comments on things when i was a lot younger-- mostly people complaining that i was a bad writer or that i should delete (which i did, so they got their wish lol). now if anything i mostly get people who comment on my stuff to kind of pressure me to update XYZ (the nivannedy catboy fic is notorious for this, which is why i haven't been working on it very much lately). the block button is my friend tho <3

9. Do you write smut? If so, which kind?

yeah :)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest crossover you’ve ever written?

Nope!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

no

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

i think someone wanted to at one point and then never did lol

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i've talked with some people about this before but we've never gotten around to it :P

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

i love chreon but there's just SOMETHING about nivannedy---

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

the lethan re7/re8 rewrite. i really want to keep working on them but i just have so much more on my plate that i keep pushing it off, especially when it'll require the research of rewatching playthroughs a few times to reimaging the plot points. maybe one day tho!!

16. What are your writing strengths?

i've been told that my dialog is good which makes me happy because there are a few fics where i'm actually really proud of it :3

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

describing things, especially people! for some reason i always feel like it breaks the flow so i just... am like "there is a man. anyway--" sorry readers but it's your job to imagine him skjfnskdnf

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i only speak english and i'm also VERY american. i don't personally want to mess around with that because it would be google translate type shit and that's just sad imo :/ so since i don't know enough i will abstain

19. First fandom you wrote for?

pokemon!!!!!!!!! i literally found THE first fic i ever wrote which would have been somewhere between third and fifth grade because i PRINTED IT and DREW PICTURES. it is called The Mysterious Manaphy and makes no sense. i read it aloud to my partner and they howled. yeah, it was just that good

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

listen, i love broken machine, but dualities has seriously taken the cake!!!!!!!!!

thank you for tagging me claire :3 i tag @flurrin @fonulyn and @silvercap!!!

[dread-pirate-mumbles]

more sea of stars thoughts (less shitposty this time, maybe??)

spoilers for true ending below

First: what the fuck was Romaya doing with Moraine's staff in that one end credits cut scene??? she better not have been trying to pull a Duke thing again but with Moraine (sometime in the future, after he's passed)

Additionally: i absolutely adored pissing Romaya off throughout the entire game. I really hope B'st got to go back and talk with her about whatever he was gonna say after the second fight.

Second: Valere and Zale have to come back for Garl's bday every year, but I'm guessing keeping track of time while on patrol across the various worlds is Difficult, so I like to think that they tracked down Resh'an and asked him to set up a yearly reminder for them. I like to think that Resh'an has a connection to all of the Solstice Warriors (which is how he finds them once they are born), so he can find Valere and Zale wherever they are, and obviously time is His Thing

Third: (and keep in mind im just a Baby in the lore rn, just limited to in-game stuff)- I think that Aephorul made the Catalyst to try and remove his and Resh'an's souls from their bodies. I think the immortality potion has tied their souls to their bodies thus preventing their souls from passing on, and I think Aephorul made the Catalyst to either 1) remove their souls from their bodies and finally die together; or 2) put their souls into new bodies that would not be subject to the curse of immortality in the way that their original ones were

I also think the World Eaters were initially designed with the same end goal of death for Aephorul and Resh'an combined- something that can destroy the very fabric of time would likely be strong enough to break their immortality. However, Dwellers were not strong enough to do so, and there was no guarantee that a world eater would be strong enough either (nor was there anyone Aephorul could use as a test subject), so Aephorul continued to try and make them more and more powerful, and perhaps even experimented on some people to try and mimic immortality to see what would happen

I've also wondered about the pronounciation of Aephorul, because if you read it as "Aye-For-Rule", it (if you squint with your ears) kind of sounds like "All For You", which. fits with this idea of Aephorul doing this initially *for* him and Resh'an.

Fourth: I really want to write a post-canon fic where Garl goes back with Serai and B'st to their world, to help build things back up and restore hope. The dinner at the Golden Pelican and the comment when you send Garl to the hot spring (where he's like. "I gotta tell Serai something important") have inspired a *little* bit of a Garl/Serai shipper in me. I'd also want to include what the Dumbass Immortal Gays are up to, too, because I really love their dynamic, and I'd love to Literally Fucking Kill Them For Good. I really, really want Resh'an to like. Talk with Garl, maybe Valere/Zale, about his failings and his mistakes. He's just a human, still, after all, and he has basically no one else to talk to about his Bad Life Choices

Anyway- Garl goes between homeworld and Serai's world on the Vespertine, but he always makes sure to be in mooncradle on time for his birthday. (side note- I wonder if he made jam from the sap of the willow on the thought that it would like. make zale and valere more powerful?? that seems like a him thing to do)

Fifth (aka assorted plot holes or complaints):

-Why did we never see the Dweller of Strife or the Acolytes again? I thought maybe the idea was that they became the World Eater at the end, but there's not like. a lot of game details pointing to that.

-How did Serai end up in our world anyway? Did she teleport based off of information about the home world (how would she get it? how far can she teleport? how can she teleport away the *top of a fucking mountain*??)? She couldn't have gotten information from Resh'an, since he didn't know about the Great Eagle thing, so maybe she stole info from The Fleshmancer/his subordinates? Maybe this is related to the Queen that Was- maybe the queen worked with the fleshmancer, and Serai took over her house and thus information when the Queen left??

-How did Serai get her powers? Was she an experiment from the Catalyst, or was it something she pursued on her own? Also, *please* tell me the rest of her crew who knew the fuck she actually was, she was so obvious

-I'm assuming the academy is no longer needed, with new guardian gods, no need for new solstice warriors for this realm, but that means Moraine is the only solstice warrior on both home world and serai's world. I feel bad for him cause he very obviously suffered from the loss of so many fellow warriors due to strife (and took it out on brugaves and erlina, unfortunately), so I wonder if he feels lonely about it sometimes