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#Reminisce about the past
hrpiner · 2 years
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Reminisce about the past
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REMINISCE ABOUT THE PAST PLUS
REMINISCE ABOUT THE PAST TV
Whether you are looking to reminisce about your childhood or share something special with a younger generation, Fraggle Rock is definitely worth your time. While we stroll down memory lane, let's not forget to reminisce about those houses that used to have dirt floors near Moecherville and on Plain Avenue.Īurora Housing Authority's Chronic Problem of Jericho Circle Complex to Be Demolished Summer 2010 Reminiscence, the recalling of memories from ones past experiences, is a multidimensional process that occurs in people of all ages. "Now tell me all about yourselves and what you are going to do with your winter, and we can ' reminisce' another time. Nadal … makes me kind of reminisce about the good ol 'days of "It's fun to get a chance to see everyone again and kind of reminisce about the old times, especially us old, retired guys," Sakic said.įederer vs. Yes, actually, it was cool, because I just went back on "SNL," so I totally did kind of reminisce that whole experience. Subscribe to Reminisce and Reminisce Extra, and never miss an issue. to " reminisce," challenged it to work for "prosperity and dignity" for all. Welcome back Reminisce, North America’s top-selling nostalgia magazine, celebrates the good times with fun, engaging stories about what we loved in the past and how it shapes our lives today. The memory is produced when the man meets an old friend. In the song, Springsteen sings about a man in his thirties who recalls his high school life. It is the one song that drives home the point that one fine day, we will all remember the past and consider how time just flew by. Ray and I ate our meal and reminisced about the trip. Queen Elizabeth of Britain, saying she wasn't at the U.N. This classic rock song of 1984 is the best song to do with memories. If you reminisce about something from your past, you write or talk about it, often with pleasure. Teachers: The influence teachers have had on your.
REMINISCE ABOUT THE PAST TV
There will come a time when Ryan Giggs is stood besuited before the TV cameras on a touchline somewhere in Europe as Manchester United fans sing his name and reminisce in the stands above, as they did for Roy Keane in Lisbon.īenfica 1-1 Manchester United | Champions League Group C match report Here are some subjects for reminiscing: Technology: How technology changed our world in the past 60 years.
REMINISCE ABOUT THE PAST PLUS
Whilst those with say 10 plus years in reminisce about past times, forget it, this is the new realityīusted Up For Dogmeat.
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rontra · 1 year
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(gripping the sink and staring at myself in the mirror) i can be trusted with power girl's design. i can be trusted with power girl's design. i can b
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pacificwaternymph · 7 months
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Does it ever strike you how Jimmy is able to let go, but Scott never seems to move on?
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avatar-saiki · 9 months
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Beel's Takeout, Pt. 2
Beelzebub/reader, 5.8k words
CW: afab reader (you/your), oral fixation, nsfw
Summary:
Sequel to Beel's Takeout because it felt fun exploring sexualizing the motive of gluttony
Was he really going to do this?
“Come on, Beel, hurry up!” 
He lingered at the end of the hallway, looking at all the doors lined with numbers while you stood at the end, waving him toward your room. Pleasure hotels were all over the Devildom, most catering to Lust but a few were specialized in Sloth or even provided safe spaces for demons of Envy to hunker down and binge on whatever obsessions they may want to hide from others. Asmodeus had been a spokesperson for a few properties, modeling in their advertisements, but he’d never thought he’d be in one now. Lucifer had made it very clear that the unlimited room service was not something intended to satiate Gluttony.
And yet…
“Oo!” You disappeared into the room, the door left open wide. “There’s a jacuzzi tub in the bathroom!”
He held his hand over his stomach, trying to ignore the hunger beginning to stir. 
“We should head back. I think it was Asmo’s turn to cook dinner.” Which meant that while they wouldn’t be as filling, a lot of the dishes would look really nice. He would always say something about eating with the eyes first, which didn’t make much sense. What did it matter what the dishes looked like as long as it tasted good? It was nice to see it make him so happy though, except when he’d smack his hands away and tell him not to touch anything before taking endless amounts of pictures first.
You peered back around the doorframe, cheeks puffing in a sulk. “They have room service and I paid for 3 hours. Just come in here already.”
“3 hours?” he repeated, clutching at his shirt. The ice cream was long forgotten by now. Three hours alone with you… without any of his brothers nearby to interrupt or stop him if he might—
“Yeah, so come on,” you said, walking back out and taking his hand with a mischievous smile. “Come check out the room with me~”
It would be nice to spend some time alone with you.
“Okay…” he said softly, letting you pull him along with your imperceptible little tugs. How such a little human had managed to form pacts with all his brothers, even Belphie and himself, was something he never expected, let alone developing new feelings that made him…
He swallowed thickly and stepped into the room, his calves starting to shake the moment you closed the door. It wasn’t as strong as when he was in your room back home, but the close proximity wafted your scent up to his nose, making him start to salivate. He covered his mouth and looked around the room, the decor varying shades of pinks and reds, plush carpet and a large lush bed set in the middle of the room. A large mirror was hung on the wall across from the bed and he swallowed thickly, looking away from it and trying to figure out where he could sit. But there weren’t any options other than the bed or on the floor. 
Just as he was considering sitting down by the wall to wait out these three hours of torture, you grabbed his arm and looked up at him with concern. “Are you okay? You look like you feel sick.”
Your scent… the warmth of your hand on his arm… the way you looked up at him so innocently as your soul serenaded to him, all but begging him to indulge—
He stopped himself, just barely, holding your cheek and swallowing again. “I’m not sick, I’m just…”
“Hungry?” you whispered back, holding your hand over his with a coy smile.
Famished.
“Yes,” he murmured and you giggled softly. 
“Okay, let’s order you some room service first,” you said, walking away to pick up the phone on the nightstand. “Did you want to look at the menu or should I order for you?”
“Anything,” he said, turning to look away but freezing when he saw your reflection in the mirror. The supple curve of your lower back and subtle sway of your hips as you ordered were sending him in a downward spiral. He didn’t want to think about how meaty your thighs looked or how good it would feel to sink his fangs in, but once again his mouth began to water and he sat down on the bed, holding his head in his hands, ashamed. You were his friend, his precious human friend. What friend would have thoughts like this, even now? Would the pact be enough to keep you safe from him? Or was it Fate that one of these days he might lose control and…
“I should go,” he said, moving to stand up again.
“Beelzebub. Sit.”
The pact compelled him to obey and he sat down heavily on the bed, the frame creaking under his weight. He looked up, but before he could speak you walked around to stand in front of him.
“What’s the matter?” You asked with a slight pout. “Do you not want to be here with me?”
“I do,” he said, his heart sinking the more you pouted. “Please don’t be sad.”
“Then why do you look like you’re trying to find a way out?” 
He hesitated and clutched at his stomach, looking down at his lap. “I… I don’t think it’s safe for me t—”
Sweetness touched his lips, your kiss light and soft only to leave him wanting when you pulled back.
“Don’t you trust me, Beel?” you whispered, lingering close and tempting him with your honeyed soul.
“I do, but…” he trailed off again, guilt mixing with lust and hunger in an awful pit in his stomach. A loud, ravenous gurgle interrupted the space between you and you smirked, moving to stand up and answer the door.
“Let’s get you some food,” you said, opening the door and pulling the cart in. 
The fresh wave of new scents were a welcome distraction and he made a move to get up again.
“Sit, Beelzebub,” you said firmly, picking up one of the platters and walking over to him. “I want you to stay right there.”
“But—“
You smiled coyly and scooped up a bite, holding it up to him. “Let me feed you.”
He swallowed and held his wrist, nodding slowly as he relinquished control to the pact, almost finding relief in its bindings as he felt his limbs go rigid. 
“Okay,” he said quietly, feeling a flutter in his chest when your smile widened.
“Open wide,” you cooed, feeding him the first bite. Then another. The pace you fed him was much slower than if he’d fed himself, but it also forced him to savor each bite. This dish was some savory gravy over rice, still hot and fresh from the stovetop. He couldn’t help moaning softly, licking the bottom of the spoon and wishing for more with every spoonful.
You giggled gently and he opened his eyes, embarrassed. 
“Was it good?” you asked, setting the plate down and picking up another.
“Yes,” he said, curious to see what else you’d ordered. “Are you going to eat too?”
“Mm… in a minute,” you hummed, holding the plate out for him. “Would you prefer to feed yourself this time?”
“Sure,” he said, taking the plate eagerly. Roasted boar with mashed potatoes and vegetables. Yum. He picked up the fork and speared some meat, about to take a bite when your hands graced his thighs once more.
“Hey, Beel~,” you purred, gazing up into his eyes. “Do you mind if I… try a little something?”
“What do you want t—” 
You rubbed up his thighs, thumbs dipping low and stroking him slowly.
“D… don’t touch me there,” he whispered.
“Do you not like it?” you asked softly, resting your palms on his lap.
“No… I do, but—”
Again you rubbed across his legs, teasing around but never quite touching, smiling when he stilted his breath.
“But what, Beel?”
“I don’t want… to hurt you…”
“You won’t hurt me, Beel,” you said, the lightest caress ghosting over his cock, feeling along his length.
He shivered and shook his head, trying to distract himself with food, but it wasn’t enough. 
“I could. I could lose control and you’re so small, I—”
“Beel, don’t eat the plate too,” you said with a laugh, standing up straighter. “Damn, where’d the fork go?”
“Huh?” he looked down at the plate, a piece missing on one side and no fork in sight. “Oh… I must’ve eaten it…” he muttered and you giggled again.
“Here, let me get you a new one,” you said, taking the plate and turning around to grab a bowl of fruit. “Don’t eat the bowl this time, okay?”
He hesitated, wanting to take it but it felt like you were ignoring the bigger issue. Again he tried to stand, but the pact held him in place. 
“I can’t,” he said, “First it’ll be the fork, then the plate, then y—”
You stopped him with a finger on his lips, eyes lidded slightly.
“Beel~ don’t you trust me?” you asked again.
He nodded, but trusting you wasn’t the problem. Trusting himself was.
“Then relax,” you said, stepping closer and leaning in, dropping your voice. “I trust you to stay right here,” you whispered, the pact resonating again to strengthen around his limbs. “You’ll be good for me and stay, won’t you?”
He swallowed and shivered when you touched his abdomen, rubbing his belly as it rumbled. 
“But—”
You silenced him with a kiss, nipping his lip in playful warning before slipping your tongue inside. He moaned the moment your lust hit his tongue, so sweet and sinful, like spiced sweets from the human world’s autumn. How many times had he wanted to indulge in you? Fantasizing about how you must taste, every part of you. Your fears, your whimsy.
But your lust truly was something else…
You unzipped his pants and he sighed at the relief in pressure only to tense again when you reached for him, grabbing your wrists.
“Beel…” you pouted again. 
“I… I’m not sure if I can…”
You smiled and kissed him again. “Stay, Beel~ let me satiate my curiosity~”
He groaned under his breath, something about you making him lose sense. You felt around him, gently stroking through his underwear before pulling him out and gasping under your breath.
“You’re so big…”
“Sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly, leaning back and lifting his head, trying to focus on the lingering scents of food in the air and not the one he craved most in this moment.
You giggled. “That’s not something you say sorry for, Beel.”
“Oh… sorry,” he mumbled again and you laughed.
“Demons really don’t know how to apologize, do they?”
“I…” he trailed off, making the mistake of looking down at you kneeling between his legs, holding cock in hand and looking up at him with a mischievous expression.
No, it wasn’t mischievous.
It was hungry.
Before he could ask, you closed your eyes and pressed a soft kiss to his cock, delicately working your way up to the head. He groaned under his breath, every little touch tickling as he twitched in your hand. Your smile was soft and you glanced up at him, letting your tongue peek out to lick the pre-cum away, making his hips jolt in response only for a flash of red magic to glow under his skin, holding him in place.
“Stay, Beel,” you purred, smearing the pre-cum on your lips as you nuzzled him so lovingly. “If you move too quick you might choke me.”
“S… Sorry…” he mumbled, watching you smile and kiss the head again before taking it into your mouth. Instantly a rush of pleasure pulsed down his length, stirring lower in his belly in a hunger he’d never felt before until he’d met you. But this hunger… wasn’t quite like the one that kept him up at night with nightmares playing in his mind until Belphie coaxed him back to sleep. No… but it was still one that frightened him.
Until you moaned around him and took him further down, gazing up at him with glassy eyes. 
Again, that rush stirred in his belly but he forced himself to hold still, watching as you bobbed, cheeks puffing out to try and take as much of him in as you could while stroking him with both hands what you couldn’t. It’d be a lie to say he’d never fantasized this with you, but to be this close to a human? This intimate and vulnerable, so close to losing himself to the instinct of wanting more of you…
You popped off with a gasp, nuzzling his cock and suckling its girth with shameless abandon. “Beel~ relax or I won’t be able to make you cum.”
He shivered and looked at the mirror, frightening himself with the hints of red flashing in his eyes. “I… I don’t think I can,” he whispered and you whined.
“What? Aw, but you got so hard for me…” you sat back on your heels and looked up at him. “Do you not want me?”
“I… I do, but…” he couldn’t meet your eyes, “I’m… afraid of what could happen if I lost control…”
You said nothing, leaving him in silence as even your touch left him. Yes, he’d known your attraction to him had been growing for a while now and he’d tried to play it off to keep you safe, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want you to want him back. But he was a demon, not just any demon but the Avatar of Gluttony. Lucifer didn’t even allow him to go to the human realm without another demon present anymore, so what chance did he have in keeping you safe from himself, pact or no pact? It was selfish. It was cruel. There was no way a demon like him could be involved with a human like you.
You chuckled under your breath, catching him by surprise.
“Beel…” You took hold him again, reaching down to cup his balls in your hand and gazing up at him with hunger. “I don’t think you realize just how badly I want to see you lose it.”
“You… what?”
“Hold still, Beel,” you ordered, taking him in your mouth before he could protest. This time your affections were more focused, his cock sliding down your throat before your gag reflex kicked in and squeezed around him, drool dribbling out and down your fingers but your efforts didn’t cease. No, it was almost as if it encouraged you to take in more with every bob, eyes flicking up to his every now and then to make sure he was watching. Watching you drool. Watching you slurp.
Watching you devour his cock. 
He moaned, watching your excitement play on your face as you bobbed faster, feeling pressure beginning to build. This… he was… He leaned back on a hand, covering his mouth with the back of the other while trying to keep a level head. 
Just stay calm.
Don’t lose control.
You moaned around him happily, eagerly swallowing whatever pre-cum wept from the tip before it could even bead, his cock soaked with you. He bit one of his fingers and tipped his head back, closing his eyes and breathing deep through his nose.
Don’t lose control.
You hummed, soft vibrations tickling as you rolled your tongue along the bottom side of his shaft, coaxing the pressure to build even further.
Don’t lose control.
Stay calm.
“Please…” he whispered, gripping the bedspread and panting under his breath. “I can’t…”
His pleas were answered without mercy, only faster and wetter. He gasped and reached back to hold the bed with both hands, head light and breath hot against his own chest. 
“I… I’m going t…”
Tension coiled in his lower abdomen and you lovingly fondled his balls, unrelenting in your mission to see him come undone. Desperation cried out with lust, his moan a deep sound rolling from his belly, cum hot and thick as it rushed forth to fill your mouth.
Your soft, small, sinful little mouth…
You gagged and popped off him with a gasp, cum dribbling down your chin as more spurted forth, eagerly stroking him until its flow slowed, eyes alight with wonder. 
“Fuck,  you cum a lot,” you said with a lewd grin, shamelessly wiping your chin clean and licking the back of your hand. 
“Sorry…” he mumbled, afraid to even dare to move, order or no order, his grip stiff on the bed and thoughts muddled.
You chuckled and stood up, wiping your hand on the blanket with a wink. “Don’t be~ I said I wanted a taste, and you know what?”
He shook his head numbly, unable to meet your gaze. It was just as he feared. Once wasn’t enough. He needed more. 
You leaned over, resting on his thighs and gazing up at him. 
“You taste delicious~”
Heat rushed to his face and he looked into your eyes. “I… we should go home,” he murmured, “Before I… before we…”
You pouted again and sidled closer, just a breath away from a kiss. “Aw… but don’t you want a taste too, Beel?”
His lips parted, breathing in just enough to taste a hint of the excitement in your heart. Asking him if he wanted a taste was almost cruel… of course he did. It was what might come after that terrified him.
“I’ll let you,” you whispered, smiling subtly. “Just don’t bite too hard~”
“I’m not sure if I--”
You silenced his worries with a kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and sighing fond. He stiffened immediately, but when you moaned and pressed closer, he couldn’t help reaching up to hold you. As if encouraged by his touch, you placed a knee on the bed and leaned in closer, guiding him to lay back on the bed while you straddled over his lap.
“What’s the matter, Beel?” you murmured, kissing down his neck. “Don’t you want me too?”
“I…” He swallowed, looking up at the ceiling as the hunger began to rise again, your body so warm and inviting, scent so supple and sweet… “I do, but—” He sucked in a sharp breath of surprise at the sudden pinch on his neck, digging his nails into your hips. “What- don’t… don’t do that, please,” he whispered, and you sat back with a soft chuckle.
“Why?” you hovered over him and reached down to remove your shirt, tossing it aside with a smug grin, tilting your head to the side to expose the curve of your neck for him. “Would you prefer to bite me instead?”
“I… I…” His hands were shaking now, holding your thighs in a light feather grip. “I can’t…”
“Yes you can~” you purred, pressing a kiss to his forehead before rolling off his lap and undressing yourself fully, laying bare next to him and running a hand down your body. “Bite wherever you like… just promise me one thing.”
He forced himself to sit up again and covered his mouth, trying to swallow but he just couldn’t stop salivating. He had no idea humans could be so intoxicating, their bodies all but begging to be devoured, encapsulating the sweet essence of life within, such a myriad of flavors all held inside the soul. A human’s wants… a human’s needs… a human’s fears…
Yet again he swallowed, but the hunger…
“Wh… what do I need to promise?” he asked thickly, focusing on the plush carpet on the floor. Why you were attracted to him too, he had no idea. At first it made sense, Asmodeus had said a demon’s charm was only natural to counteract what would normally cause humans to run in fear from their predator. Could prey really truly flee if captivated by beauty?
But what did it mean when the predator was just as captivated?
You chuckled and rolled onto your back, stretching out and feeling up your body with a longing sigh. “Just don’t bite too hard, be gentle with me,” you purred, “you can taste, but no drawing blood~”
Blood.
He shuddered at the thought and turned to you, wanting to reassure you that he would never—
But his heart stopped.
Words all but left him as he stared at the expanse of soft, delicate and exposed skin. A human laying bare before him without a care, eyeing him just as hungrily as he might. Touching yourself with a subtle smirk, invoking the scents of lust to hang heavy in the air.
“Just… a taste…?” he whispered, the last bits of his resolve crumbling with the unsteadiness in his voice.
“Mm~ it’s only fair…” you murmured, reaching up to cup one of your breasts while spreading your legs to tease your slit, spreading yourself for him to see the wetness already forming, already scenting the air so divinely. “You wouldn’t be so selfish to not return the favor, right?”
“R… right…” He’d never been one to be a selfish lover, but most demons could keep up with his needs. Even if your soul didn’t call to him, there was no way a human could have the stamina he’d need.
So…
“Just… a taste….” 
“Mhmm~” you hummed, pinching your nipple while watching him with a smile. “Just a taste to see if you like it~”
“Oh I’ll like it,” he said, moving to lean over you and feeling a flutter low in his belly when your scent turned sweeter. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Really?” You grinned, laying your arms up above your head. “Funny, because that’s what I’m excited for.”
Your nipples perked and he felt the flutter stir higher in his chest, his hand hovering. Hesitating. Just a taste. Just a taste. How long had he dreamed of just a taste?
“Ohh… Beel~”
Your moans were comforting, tension releasing from his shoulders while his hand engulfed your breast, kneading it experimentally slow. So soft and round… a little heavy too, but so squishy. Your chest pressed up for him and he smiled a little, leaning down to kiss your nipple before touching it with his tongue. Instantly a zap of sweetness followed and he moaned, closing his eyes and sucking harder.
Humans tasted sweeter.
“B-Beel—” You gasped, fingers grasping at his hair and pulling him closer.
Such little tugs…
That’s right… he had to remember…
Humans were smaller.
He moaned around you and tilted his head to one side, rolling the little nub around with his tongue. How much sweeter you tasted, nipple growing perky on his tongue. It was as sweet as your kisses, something he’d had to get used to over time to not crave it, but even more intense.
“B-Beel!” you gasped more desperately, pulling hard at his hair.
“Mm…” he unlatched and inhaled a deep breath, brushing his lips along just below, savoring the way you shivered at the sensitivity. “It’s like… tasting bread fresh out of the oven,” he said softly, kissing just below it, eliciting a faint hiss from your lips.
“Did you just… compare me to bread?”
“I did,” he murmured with a fond smile, closing his eyes to trace his lips around your breast again. “I like bread, don’t you?”
You let out a breathless laugh. “I guess?”
“Kissing you is like bread,” he said, adjusting himself to begin trailing kisses down your body. “Sometimes it’s toasted too, or it might have butter…” his stomach grumbled and yours shook with another soft laugh.
“I know you’re trying to be sweet but I don’t know if it’s working for me, Beel.”
“Isn’t it?” He lifted his head to look up at your face. “Haven’t you ever had fresh bread?”
Your face was flush with confusion and you nodded. “Yeah, of course I have.”
“Then,” he sat up on his knees and reached for one of your legs, “You know you’re supposed to wait for it to cool?”
You sighed, but nodded again. “Yes, I know you’re supposed to- eep!”
In a smooth motion he turned you toward him, spreading your legs on either side of his knees. So quick were you to fall quiet, a shaky breath falling from your lips. But, much to his delight, he could taste nothing bitter.
“Then you know how hard it is to wait,” he murmured, leaning over you with hands at either side. Especially once he’d had a taste.
Your face grew flush at the sound rumbling in his belly. 
“Yes,” you whispered. 
“I’m not very good at waiting,” he admitted, pressing a soft kiss to your chest. “It’s easier with you around, but sometimes I still…”
“Worry you might try and eat me?” you guessed, making him lift his head again.
“You noticed?”
You laughed under your breath. “It’s a little hard not to see how such a powerful demon keeps shying away from me whenever we’re alone together too long.”
“I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I lost control,” he murmured, holding your sides and gently kissing down your body. “But I think I… might want to try…”
“Try to… lose control?” you whispered, sucking in a breath when his kisses drifted down below your navel.
“It’s easier to be patient with you,” he continued, lingering while he savored the way your belly twitched under his lips in anticipation. “When you ask me to wait… when you cook for me…”
You laughed gently, “Beel… quit teasing m—”
He bit the curve of your hip, eliciting the sweetest little whine from your throat.
“I thought I might want to eat you,” he murmured, brushing his lips along your thigh. “Every time we kissed…”
You shivered and inhaled a deep breath, holding still for him. “Even now?”
“I still want to,” he said, “but… I think… I want something more…”
“Yeah?” Your excitement was palpable, legs spreading just a little more. It was… nice, to see you trust him so easily, even as he was admitting to just how often he’d fantasized about eating you.
“You remember our pact?” he asked, lifting his head slightly again and chuckling at the soft whine of displeasure you made.
“Yes, Beel, I do.”
“Good,” he smiled a little and sat up, scooping his hands under your thighs. “Will you use it? If I try to indulge too much?”
You nodded emphatically and looked at him. “Yes, Beel, but please… quit worrying so much. You have more control than you think-!”
He lifted your legs up on his shoulders, raising your hips off the bed. “I hope so,” he whispered, “Because I… I’ve never done this with a human before. I don’t want to hurt you.”
You looked up at him, face flush. “Just go slow.”
“Slow,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss over your slit, tasting the first hints of arousal on his lips. “I’ll try…”
“If it’s too much, I’ll tell you to stop,” you said, stilling your breath when his tongue peeked out for a taste.
“I’ll try,” he murmured again, kissing closer to the sweetness, a tang of surprise mixing in but melting into bliss as he dragged his tongue up slow.
You moaned, reaching up to cover your mouth with the back of your hand, breathing shakily. “B… Beel…”
He looked down at you, holding your thighs on his shoulders while lazily rolling his tongue again, savoring the way this affection alone was enough to make you squirm. And how sweet you tasted? The lust in your soul was rising, adding something spiced that just made him want to eat his fill. Was this what it was like to experience a human? So supple and sweet…
“B-Beel-! Don’t- tease!” you gasped, trying to reach up for him but unable to grasp at more than his fingers.
“You said go slow,” he murmured, shamelessly nuzzling into your cunt before latching onto one of your lips and suckling softly, moaning at how delicate you felt on his tongue. 
“Yes, but I didn’t mean— fuc- more!”
More?
He could give more.
He let his eyes drift closed, rolling his tongue over once more before seeking the source of the spiced sweetness he craved most, pushing it inside only to draw back and lick up, testing to find the spots that made you quiver most. You liked when he licked over this little nub… this tasty, soft little button… He latched over it and pressed the heat of his tongue to it, earning himself a delicious roll of your hips into his mouth.
“Oh… fuck… Beel…”
He looked down at you again and pressed once more, delighting in the way your desperate hands pinched his fingers and the whining keen from your lips. It made him… hungry, but not in the way you had before.
“Is this okay?” he whispered, kissing you while you laughed out a whine.
“Yes, don’t stop…”
“I won’t… but I might…” He shifted to support one leg on his shoulder and reached down to feel down his belly, the feeling stirring lower once more. “I want so much more…”
“Please, Beel,” you whined, wrapping your legs around his neck to entice him. “Please.”
He groaned under his breath, unsure if you might hear him but he still had to say it. “Please stop me if I hurt you…”
“Mm…” you hummed, thighs squeezing him tight.
He let himself relax, trusting you to keep your word. He would try his best, of course he would, but he… he wanted…
A shiver ran down his back and he grasped at his cock, squeezing just below the head as he pushed his tongue in, moaning at the startled clench that greeted him only to soak him with the sweetest nectar. More. He tilted his head slightly to push in further, wanting, needing, more with every stroke. Dimly he could hear you squealing. Frustratingly, he could feel you bucking. Squirming. Wriggling. Smearing the sweetness all over his face but not letting him drink it.
In an abrupt need to keep you in control, he let his guise break, horns extending from his head as his wings unfurled at his back, flexing in a low flutter. Both hands gripped your thighs now, lifting you even higher until only your upper back rested on the bed, angling you just where he needed you to be.
“B-Beelzebub—” you gasped in surprise, arms falling up above your head with eyes wide. “What’re y—”
He shoved his tongue in deep, breathing hot over your cunt as it reached further than before and oh you tasted even sweeter the deeper he could go. Your mewls were drowned out by his own groans of ecstasy, cock weeping pre-cum as he pumped his tongue in again and again, wetness coating and surrounding him with the taste he’d never even known he could begin to crave so desperately.
“B-Beel I’m gonna—” you pleaded, desperate to get his attention but his focus was lost now. All that mattered was this feeling, this flavor. Your soul so hot and spiced, arousal running down his chin until an abrupt squeeze trapped his tongue inside, holding him tight.
And oh did that taste nice~
He nuzzled closer, moaning as you came around him, whimpering in need when he slowly dragged out only to lick long and slow over your softness, letting the full length glide over your clit before he swallowed thick. 
“Be… Beel…” you gasped out, reaching for him but unable to find him.
“Hold on,” he murmured, lowering you gently before rolling onto his back, keeping your thighs nice and snug around him. His horns pressed into your belly, and he reached up to guide you to hold them. “Keep yourself steady for me.”
“Keep… what?” You laughed breathlessly, hands holding him so light while you quivered above him.
“I’m not done,” he said, kissing over you again. “I’m still hungry.”
You tried to laugh again but whined instead as his tongue began to push inside, its tapered length reaching in deeper before he flexed it, making you whimper and clench again. Interesting… He relaxed his tongue and flexed it again, causing your hips to rut subtly.
He smiled. 
What if he…?
He reached up to hold your hips and lifted his chin, humming low and deep, letting the vibrations travel down his tongue while you keened above him, riding him with desperate need. This angle was better. Easier to pump his tongue while you rode him, and he could taste so much more intensely.
When your breathing became labored and grip tightened around his horns, his name falling from your lips he grasped at your thighs and pushed in deeper, moaning as he swallowed your cum. Such a heady aroma filled the air, he’d almost wondered if humans could be more seductive to demons than the other way around…
But it still wasn’t enough.
Again he wanted to feel you, taste you, build up until you crumbled before him. Eating humans could mean many things, or at least that’s what Asmodeus had always said, but he never imagined it could be as satisfying as this.
“B-Beh…”
Your desperate gasps were sweet as honey, body shaking around him, overstimulated and needy. Just one more… at least let him have one more… 
He gripped your thighs tight, moaning as he planted the best openmouthed kisses he could give while sloppily thrusting his tongue in and out, letting his pleasures vibrate deep inside as your walls began to quiver again.
“Be… please I’m… s’tired…”
More.
He rolled you over onto your back and thrust his tongue in deep, eliciting a sharp cry as you came so good for him, drenching his chin in euphoric bliss. He moaned and eagerly drank from your soul, pleasure rising knowing it was him that made you taste so sweet.
“B…buh….” You groaned, lightheaded and dizzy, fingers weak around his horns. “Fuh…”
Gingerly he lifted his head, reluctant to leave but eager to thank you for the meal. He drew his tongue out slowly, giving you one last kiss just above your clit before he sat back with a small smile. 
“We should probably stop for now,” he said with a small grin, “It was a good first meal, but I really might devour you if I keep going.”
“Mmgh….” You groaned, staring blearily up at the ceiling.
“Are you okay?” he asked. 
“Can’t… move…” you mumbled.
He frowned a little and moved up higher to check your face, gently touching your cheek. “Was that too much?”
You shook your head meekly and gazed up at him with starry eyes. “Just… a lot. More than… I’ve felt before.”
Relief washed over him and he smiled, knowing it was selfish but he had to ask.
“I can stop now, but… if I wanted to… would you let me taste you again?”
You stared at him blankly for a moment before letting out a breathless laugh. “You can do that any time, Beel. Just let me catch my breath once in a while.”
He smiled and leaned down to kiss your forehead. 
“I’m just glad I didn’t hurt you,” he murmured, trying to ignore the feeling still stirring. He could keep control, but now that he knew just how good you could be…
It’d be much harder to hold back his Gluttony.
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gummi-ships · 1 year
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Kingdom Hearts Birth by Sleep - The Land of Departure
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skitskatdacat63 · 6 months
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This is a special genre of f1 picture(to ME.)
#ive talked a lot about helmets lately oops#i guess i just rly have an obsession with how they're an extension of the driver#and a representation of them and their only sense of personality and individuality when theyre all geared up#so theres something to me about the separation of helmet from driver like in these pics#of course theres pics of the helmet on its own for model kinda pics(like all the pics i used for my past project posts)#but this is its own genre. helmet doing its own thing. helmet away from the vicinity of its owner#helmet being protected from the elements. it has its own carrying bag. it gets an umbrella. etc etc#the first pic made me on the lookout for pics w a similar vibe. IDK WHY BUT IM RLY OBSESSED WITH IT#having a severe helmet fucker era </3 i look at these and i feel very weird about them 😭#not included cause its a differnt genre but also thinking abt pics where someone other than the driver themselves is holding their helmet#theres something weirdly intimate to me about it. its too reminiscent of that one painting of the germanic warrior holding the roman helmet#<- DO YOU GET WHAT IM IMPLYING HERE.#anyways. i digress. helmet being taken care of and protected is cute to me#its such an extension of the driver so its kinda funny ig that they get their own photoshoots#also yeah these are all nando helmets bcs i couldn't find pics from other drivers that i thought had the same vibe#and i think its interesting how these correlate with whom the photographer is and the level of popularity of the driver#like are you popular enough that someone will see your helmet apart from you and think its important enough for a pic?#and its so interesting comparing pics from the same time from different teams#bcs you can see how different the motivations of the different photographers are based on what the pics are like#well blah blah blah helmet kink blah blah blah#f1#formula 1#fernando alonso#helmet
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thewastelandlosers · 3 months
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God this cowboy ghoul is so fine
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hydrachea · 4 months
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Have you ever noticed the parallels between the nameless child Kunikuzushi took care of pre-Fatui and Nahida and get the feeling that history will repeat Although this time perhaps, bc Nahida is a god, by the time the Wanderer has found her she'd have shrunk down into a tiny leaf, easily blown away, easily crushed underfoot if one was not careful. With shaky breaths, he cups her with one trembling hand while ripping the cloth of the left side of his shirt with the other, creating a hole where the heart should be. The skin on his chest cracks, and a door swings open, revealing a compartment once built for holding the cursed remains of god. The Wanderer, now hunched over like a pilgrim in prayer, brings the leaf close to his chest and gently places it in the compartment. For the first time in his life, he was grateful for his long life, the super resilience of his body made by Irminsul. If there's nothing else he could do, he could wait. He will wait. He will make sure Nahida sees the brilliance of the sun once more. One day, they shall be reunited.
@feroluce babe, there's someone at the door for you!
This hitting every single one of my partner in crime's buttons aside, it also hits a lot of mine so I in fact had not noticed but I will now happily be noticing. I had thought of making use of his gnosis compartment before, but in a much less... Wholesome context. This one, though, I also like.
Especially the bittersweet realization that as the Wanderer finally gets what he's been craving for centuries - the power of a god, feeble as it may have become, hosted within his body - letting him fulfill the very purpose he was created for at last... He feels nothing. None of the satisfaction, of the elation he long thought would come with this moment. Instead, he's alone, and he feels more hollow than ever.
(But he's used to feeling alone, and this is something he's learned to endure. And endure it he will, because the faint thrum of divine energy in his chest beats gently like a promise - this time you know you won't be alone forever.)
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fluffypotatey · 6 months
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Hcs about shadowpeach reconnecting?
i like to think of it being very slow. to me, shadowpeach is the slowest of all slow burns both when they’re developing a relationship and trying to reconnect.
while i am a sucker for shadowpeach fluff and them being all clingy and cuddley, i still don’t think the two would even get that close for some time (and i mean some time).
lemme see if i can do a little rundown (i fucking lied) of my idea of a shadowpeach reconnection post-s4:
after the scroll and after their battle with the Brotherhood, both are in an agreement of a truce. as in, both acknowledged that neither of them wish to really fight or stay upset with the other because both understand that they never really could
so there’s a truce, a renewed exchange of peaches, that informs the other that while nothing will ever be like before….maybe that’s for the best, maybe they deserve something different and new between them
it doesn’t immediately take away from all their hurt feelings and pettiness. Wukong’s teasing will never hit the same and Macky’s guard is still at full defense
MK will still find them arguing up to the sky about something as trivial as which path leads to which waterfall and “shut up and just follow me, you idiot, this mountain has been my home for over a millennia”
but there are baby steps in the right direction (Pigsy would call it the “babiest of steps” but nobody asked him)
it takes them a year to come to terms that their petty arguing is just petty to be petty (tho they hold out a little longer because neither want to admit that to each other because it could meaning losing the game. what game? neither are exactly sure of what)
but it’s after both take the time to really refrain from that itch to bitch that both actually have a chance to talk with some substance (there may have been an external force that led to this conversation; a curse trapping them in a void space, being separated from the group so it’s just them two, the works)
but then that arguing loses its teeth and resembles something like banter. Wukong and Macky never truly did banter much in the past. not like this. it’s a little freeing. to be able to push and pull against each other without any reserve or need to
and this was their relationship for quite some time after. no physical hugs or touches like Wukong was privy to before or that Macky used to indulge in. you had the occasional glance here and there but not enough for the other to notice (everyone else, of course, noticed)
ironically, it’s Macky who initiates their first hug in ages.
Wukong, over the years, has slowly been building up to it with shoulder bumps, a light punch in the shoulder, and sometimes a bump to the hip.
when asked, Wukong would explain that he’s a physically affectionate guy but knows Mac has his limits and does his best to respect that as much as he can
on his own tho, Wukong personally feels like those touches are the most he will ever be granted to give. that is, until after a fierce battle, skirmish, whatever new daring thing that almost costs the Monkie Kid team, Macky actually pulls Wukong in for a hug
it’s nothing big or grand. well, nothing big for anymore normal since it’s a very short side hug, but it was something big for the both of them.
suffice to say, that was enough permission for Wukong to initiate more physical affection towards Macky
neither of them are really ready to put anything that they’re doing to name. makes it more definite and breakable
hell, they don’t even acknowledge that they’re past the point of tolerable acquaintances until a couple years later
but yeah, a shadowpeach reconnection, in my eyes, will takes years (centuries even) to truly rekindle their relationship. like i said, it’s a slow burn and one both want to tread carefully even if it’s agonizing to watch from the outside (see MK and friends)
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strrwbrrryjam · 4 months
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its kind of funny how straight people can see two characters of the same sex devote their lives to each other, have their thoughts be consumed with one another, need to be with one another for every waking moment, need to be touching each other etc but think we're crazy for shipping them and "why can't characters just be friends"
esp if they have/had a romantic partner of the opposite sex as if they conveniently forget bi/pan people exist
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thefirstknife · 1 year
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Since a lot of people have been talking about possible antisemitism and racism in Bungie's writing I wanted to add something that always bothered me.
I think that Saint-14 as a character is at least influenced by some pretty anti Slavic stereotypes. He's the only major character of Slavic origin (accent) and he just so happen to embody the stereotype of "Slavic brute". He's strong and kills hordes of enemies not showing almost any remorse. And the Season of the Splicer even managed make it worse! Even when he's portrayed as having some deeper thoughts and agency he's still constructed as being unable to be subtle with his words (despise speaking English)
I really like Saint as a character but it's unpleasant to see that he's clearly created as a stereotype
I respectfully disagree. I've seen this line of thinking around A LOT, especially during Splicer, and I don't understand where it comes from outside of people being unable to treat non-native English speakers right. Source: I am Slavic. Not American with Slavic heritage, I am a Slavic person living in a Slavic country and English is not my native language.
Saint is as far away from a brute as possible. Ever since he's settled down in the City, he is dedicated to protecting, not attacking. He feeds birds and sings songs with the children of the City. He dedicated his time to learn to bake cookies for the Eliksni and was considerate to find a recipe that is specifically for Eliksni. He fights when he has to, but has largely settled down and would rather plough fields and plug holes in the wall than fight. He is incredibly emotional and emotionally intelligent and understanding. He is aware of his own and other people's emotions and he's open about it unapologetically.
He is so non-aggressive to the point of many in the community, including big lore youtubers, wishing for Osiris to DIE, just so they can see Saint being angry and aggressive enough to go on another bloody rampage. Because Saint is too tame for them. Too passive, too peaceful. Where is he a brute right now?
Saint has been "brutish" before Season of Dawn, because we never saw him anywhere outside of a couple of lines. He essentially didn't exist as a character until Season of Dawn and the only thing we knew about him was that he was a legendary Titan who went on a crusade against the Eliksni and killed many of them. That's definitely brutish!
When we met him in Dawn, we met him in the middle of his crusade, at the time where he lost countless innocent people to Eliksni in the middle of the horrible conditions of the Dark Age. He is... rough, and angry. Reasonably. He just got to Mercury to save civilians and he lost them and he almost died. He thinks in black and white terms; Eliksni bad, humans good. He is harsh and lost.
But, that's when we find him in a bad position and when he's yelling on comms because he's under fire. He also speaks in broken English and with an accent. People are prejudiced when they hear it and immediately assume less subtlety and less eloquence. That's not on Bungie. That's on the prejudiced audience.
In written text, he speaks perfectly fine. Observe this and this. The issue arises when he speaks out loud (with an accent) or when he's talking to friends casually or when he's making jokes. I don't know why people expect him to speak like he's giving a speech at all times. He can speak perfectly fine, but for non-native speakers, that can be exhausting. He is allowed to drop the eloquence in a more relaxed situation.
Pointing out Splicer is incredibly strange to me because in Splicer he made the biggest possible turning point when he was confronted with how other people see him as a brute. The cutscene where Mithrax tells a story about how the Eliksni view him as a monster shook him to his core. He has been on a path of redemption ever since and dedicated his time to gently protecting Eliksni. He even started learning their language and culture.
I would understand saying that Saint started off as a brute, because he did. But Bungie pulled the biggest flip of a switch on us when they showed us that Saint is actually a huge softie, a gentle man who was pushed to war only to protect, someone who lives for peace and quiet. He is good-natured, trusting, perceptive, kind and empathic.
How is this man a brute (this is just a small selection of his idle lines):
Food reserves are dwindling. New land must be ploughed. I can do this! / Everyone is so accommodating, I- I will think of ways to give back to them. / Shaxx, ugh. Glory is for the selfish. We fight to end the fighting. / To hear the children laughing. This is the peace we fight for. / The city breathes, ships flow through its veins. There is life here, and it is thriving. / I walked the City walls, plugged holes. Every small act brings us closer to peace. / The Traveller teaches us in these quiet moments. We are not defined by our scars. / The Light does not make us heroes, friend. Power is only good when it is used for good. / I am glad to see birds still nest in these old walls. / This life can take its toll. Come to me if you need to talk. / Yesterday, a child came to me. He carried a painted shield of paper. I turned to him and he threw the shield at my head! A young Titan, I love it! [laughing]
Saint-14 is the gentlest man in the whole damn setting. Bungie said "fuck toxic masculinity in particular" when they decided to treat us to a Saint so kind that people in-universe are surprised to learn that's THE Saint-14, the one who fought at Six Fronts and led a crusade against Eliksni. Eva's assessment of this:
"That's right," he said, spreading a little more birdseed. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Eva."
We sat a little longer together, watching the pigeons and the clouds, before I finally had to excuse myself to go back to my work.
As I said, I'd heard the legend of Saint-14 before. Many legends of remarkable Guardians make them seem like mythical figures, so far removed from anything the civilians of the City will ever see or experience. The legendary Saint-14 does not seem that way to me at all.
In fact, I think he is a very nice young man.
Saint is deeply ashamed and regretful of his violent past. Because he DID have a violent past, much like pretty much every Lightbearer. Saint and Shaxx discuss this, as well as Shaxx and Mithrax. But as much as he fought and as powerful he is, Saint does NOT enjoy war or fighting. He endures it because he knows that sometimes you must take up arms to protect those who can't protect themselves, but if he had the option to be sure that the City will stay safe without his aid, he would hang up his armour forever.
I've talked a lot about how much I appreciate that Bungie took a big powerful manly man who went on rampaging crusade before and presented him to us as a gentle and kind person who loves children and birds, who prefers domestic tasks over war and who is deeply emotional and thrives on kindness. It's quite strange to see people saying that he's a "Slavic brute stereotype." He is literally the opposite of it.
If there are specific instances in lore that someone thinks are stereotypical and brutish, I would love to see them so I can address them in context. I'm also not sure what "subtle with his words" means exactly, but if there are examples of this that you'd like addressed, I'm happy to investigate. Bungie is obviously not perfect so there could be instances where they messed up, though I can't currently recall any in regards to Saint and the fact that he's Slavic.
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There's always a slight yearning in the back of my mind wishing I had been born in the right place, time, family situation, income level, etc. to have just lived in one single house for my entire life. Imagine being born in a place that still suits you, even through all of your personal evolutions and etc. The idea of deep familiarity with an area because you've lived and explored it for 40+ years, being encased in a web of memories and connections. Being able to clean out your old childhood bedroom and find personal artifacts, to dig in the yard and remember. I know those lives can still be plenty imperfect, but there's just something so seemingly solid and stable and Grounding about it that I sometimes wish I could have.. (At least from my outside perspective as someone who's moved around a bit geographically and even within the same area, never lives in the same house/ apartment /etc. for more than a few years usually.) Like... having a place that is printed upon, fully your own, rather than chronically a visitor, every thought of a space always tempered with the notion that one day soon you'll have to pack it all up again, etc. There's something peaceful about the permanence.
#I think also because I'm a very nostalgic person - THOUGH not in the way that somep poeple mean when they say nostalgia because I've realiz#ed that to some people apparently it means like.. more of a sad emotional thing? Or when I talk about being nostalgic they say 'me too' and#then describe how they're always depressed dwelling on the past wishing they could revisit it and replaying it and feeling sad and etc.#Whereas for me - it's not in a deep or emotional way at all. It's very detached - kind of like someone who is doing like a scientific#cataloguing of something? I don't feel any remorse or sadness or longing or sitting there sobbing for hours over people/pets I've lost or#etc. It's more like a fun contemplative excercise and extension of self analysis plus just documentation. Like I know your memory fades as#you get older OR even as stuff is actively ongoing humans have terrible recall - even the ones who are less emotional/more focused on#accuracy our minds still twist things or etc. SO I looove to have documentations of everything possible so that in the future I will have#as full and complete of a view of myself as I possibly can. sure the image will undoubtedly be a little distorted but having real evidence#of how something was at a time is very valuable. You look through old messages or letters or something and you always find other alternate#versions of yourself. Not in a worse way like inherently inferior Previous Models Of You who haven't yet been perfected but even just in a#neutral way like 'what they're saying is not a BAd thing but also is not how I would say that today.' etc. ANYWAY I find it really interest#ing to document and remember things and love revisiting the past - not in a sad way - but just like. curiosity. reminiscing and recalling#and filling in gaps. or trying to have the same feeling I felt at a previous time so I can remember what it was. Collecting information for#documentation purposes. Like for example - I would love to go back and tour all of my old childhood houses/apartments. Not to like#sit in the middleof them and cry and go 'ohhh my childhood waughhh' - but literally because I want to take detailed photographs so I#can remeber exatly what they looked like and recreate them in sims or some other digital way. Why? idk. just to gather the information. If#I ever live to like 80 years old and I'm still reflecting on my life curious about the dteails of it. I want to be able to fire up my#ancient windows 10 laptop I've kept all these years and open up the sims 4 and tour my old home with accuracy etc. ??#Not sure why really. Maybe an extension of how I generally care a lot about having an 'accurate' view of things? Like I would rather be#accurate than be happy. I don't understand 'ignorance is bliss' because I would always rather know. I always always in any situation am mor#focused on 'what is the well researched practical truth' than about 'how does this make me feel' or etc. Truth above ALL else even if it#were to make me miserable. Aka why I'm a 'boring' 'annoying' 'UM actually..' type of killjoy lol because it's very hard for me to understan#that some people can enjoy something or have a good time even not knowing the full facts of a situation or etc. BUT anyway. since that is#some core driver of my personality for whatever reason (just the plague of ennegram type 5 perhaps lol) maybe that also drives me to my#kind of minor obsession with like 'I must have a complete view and calatoguing of my life that is as accurate as possible within the means#i have' . Is it REALLY important for me to know the exact layout of on of my first childhood bedrooms? no. materially it does nothing for m#in life. BUT hey. it would make a great addition to the Accurate Life Story Catalogue lol. ANYWAY.. But I think a lot of wanting to live in#one place forever is not just the ease of documentation. but the sense of having a constant. Much of what i crave most in life is stability#& familiarity &routine bc of how my brain works. And it just would feel so good to be Settled. Never uproot again. One little place FOREVER
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what if you killed me. ages ago. in the sand. and now we’re drawn there by fate again.
i call you the light and i get rewarded. a few days later, i take away all the light you supplied to the world and im rewarded again.
what if we spent the whole season dancing around each other. you hand me sunflowers. but it’s not you who i call sunflower when i build a valley filled with them.
and it’s the sunflower who sacrifices her life for me. not you—you were always the one who killed me in the past. but she was the one who offered me her life, not you. and i deny her, but we fight anyway, because we’re the only ones left. and she barely puts up a fight, just like i did for you in the desert a hundred thousand days ago.
and wouldn’t that be poetic?
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stellorc · 1 year
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another wip from my folder hell, this time 40% more sketchy i haven't decided the best lighting set up yet,,, the whole piece is currently a bit out of my comfort zone but maybe doing some studies/sacrifices will get me there.
love letter to all the ossuaries out there. you guys are so rad. also it's my birthday. still disappointed that no hot vampire lady came to save me from the unyielding grasps of time. maybe next year.
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I just thought about a convo me and my friend @nellietrelawney had about WoT s2 and I was like "son like mother pushing away friends cause they think its safer and better if they did it alone."
And she went "well at least Rand being nice about it."
It just tickles me because baby his friends think he's dead 😂😂😭.
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olive-man · 2 months
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can we bring back YoutubePoop that was so funny
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