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#I WOULD HAVE DIED BEFORE MANAGING TO FINISH THIS
vidalinav · 12 hours ago
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Look guys I wrote a whole story in my head this morning about Nesta leaving Velaris and marrying someone else, because I was upset that SJM’s version of “I don’t write first time scenes,” derailed what I would consider to be more important, as in Nesta having a serious relationship before she gets into another serious relationship that is tied by some magical unforeseen bond. 
I have thought of a lot of scenarios for this, including but not limited to a man who owns a ship, and asks Nesta to travel with him, but she gets so seasick she doesn’t go. A dancer type who she ends up having the threesome with. A serious farmer. A musician who writes her songs, etc. SO many. I could write a fic of the people she dates. 
But in this scenario, maybe after all these men, Nesta marries for money. She’s aware of the precariousness of her position, and just as she’s been raised, she husband hunts, and she marries without anyone knowing. 
She ends up liking this man and they become friends. It’s not extreme, passionate love, but it’s comfortable and steady and Nesta likes this. He owns land, has a personal library, he’s pretty quite and enjoys the simple life, studious, maybe plays an instrument or two, so she thinks he’s perfect. It’s a slow sort of love, but she heals slowly in their manor, finds herself in the middle of nowhere where the next town is a half and hour away. She’s chill. 
But I made her a step mom in my mind, too, because you know she was already “the evil step sister” type, so I wanted to play on that. It’s two girls, and they know her before the two of them start dating, so they’re very happy to have her as a step mom. She ends up having a baby with this man, because why not. She lives forever, and she’s pretty content. 
That is until he dies, because the show must go on. Then, Nesta takes care of all the girls by herself. She takes care of the estate and it’s hard at first but she manages. She’s actually very good at it. And eventually the IC come back and find her after all this time. 5-10 years ish. Cassian tries to make his apologies as soon as he meets her. But they don’t know she got married, and had a whole life without them. She’s healed without them, and so they’re not quite sure what to do with her. But they need her for something plot related. Something magical, and she’s like no, I’m a mom sorry. But then you know, she’s convinced eventually and so starts the romance of Nesta and Cassian where Cassian has to now not only convince Nesta to love him, but to convince the girls that he’s not an awful person come to steal their mom away. They HATE him. I like the thought of Cassian putting extra work in and also Nesta being more emotionally mature to catch his bs, but also just concretely reworking what her mom and the society instilled in her. I also like the thought of Cassian knowing that Nesta can love someone without him and here’s the proof. I also like the thought of moms not being typical moms, where they just have a baby and that’s their finish. I wanted the motherhood to be at the start and go from there.  
Line I thought of: 
“I liked the thought of having a family I didn’t have to convince.” 
“To do what?” 
“To love me.” 
And so it goes... I wrote half a plot for a story I won’t write. 
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randomwriteronline · 3 months ago
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Skull Kid doesn’t move from where they sit; they say: “Wolf,” with a loud enough voice for the living breathing people around them to hear, but don’t make any effort to remove themself from where they are playing with the feathers of Wild’s Snowquill headdress.
Legend looks up from his mending to check his sorroundings. The moment he lays eyes on the excessively large dog he deflates without a noise.
“Hey,” he nonchalantly tells the beast with a greeting nod.
“It’s gonna eat you,” Skull Kid tells him without any particular emotion in their voice. The veteran gives a quiet ‘Boom!’ - a quick way he has taken up for saying he knows that’s a lie, to which the pest replies: “Yes it will. It’s going to bite off your foot and eat it.”
“No he won’t,” Wild assures them. “That’s my wolf, and he likes us too much to eat us.”
The wooden head snaps and turns completely around like some kind of owl: “IT’S THE WOLF?!” they yell while the three of them startle in place at the spook that gives them, the wolf itself assuming a defensive stance.
“Don’t scare him!” Four tries.
But the doll child has already shambled incomprehensibly to stand on four limbs like a some kind of turtle racoon and is dashing with a horrendous skittering gait towards the animal, who looks less than thrilled at the turn of events. Luckily for him the menace is detained by the Hero of the Minish, who manages to wrap his arms around the thin wooden chest and pull them upwards - though, despite the kid being about as light as a small bowl of grapes, sadly their heights match and he can’t swing them into the air, but only dig his heels in the ground and hope that stops them from crawling further.
While the smithy wrestles with the imp as they wriggle restlessly in his grip, Wild runs to protect the fierce animal: "He said don’t scare him!” he chastises them. “You’re making his fur go gray for the fright!”
Skull Kid, ignoring him, gives up all of a sudden and leans into Four completely, head turning towards his cheek: “Can I pet it?”
“Not if you run straight at him on all fours like a gods-damned Wallmaster you can’t,” Legend’s quick sharp tongue answers for both of the other heroes (and for Wolfie too, he’s certain).
Champion and blacksmith, while agreeing, share a quick conversation of glances; finally, Four sighs while a bark-like face nuzzles further into his own.
“You won’t skitter to him like that?” he asks. “You won’t scare him more?”
The kid nods.
“You promise?” Four insists.
“I promise.”
“Then, alright, you can.” and he carefully releases them.
Skull Kid wraps their arms around his neck and kisses his cheek so tenderly despite the lack of actual lips that it takes the smithy thirty seconds to process it; with a little ‘thank you Mouse’ they then turn and run as least derangedly as their excitement allows over to the large canine, hands outstretched to encounter the humid nose at the end of the long snout.
They instead fall into the thick, soft fur of the wolf’s neck, who turned just in time not to have those little fingers stick themselves in his teeth. The little imp sinks into it after a moment, hugging the animal’s large head with overjoyed giggles.
“You like the fur?” Wild asks.
There’s a confused mumbling as Skull Kid rubs their head against Wolfie, some kind of soft-soft-soft-sounding mantra as they scratch the animal’s ears and run their hands on its back. They lean into the strong shoulder so far and so bossily that they begin sliding off Wolfie, catching themself just to repeat it all over again; the wolf seems almost... Used, to this kind of mannerism, apparently not reacting in the slightest if only to lift his head slightly to get out of the child’s trajectory as they affectionately rub against him like a weird bipedal cat - though the wagging of his tail does betray just how much he enjoys this.
He sniffs gently at the wooden head and gifts it a small lick as a kiss. The kid gasps in awe, eyes glimmering and a large grin crawling all over their face. The little hands run into the wide brimmed hat and produce a stick.
“It’s for you,” they offer. “It’s a nice stick, no?”
Wolfie takes a few sniffs. Then he bites it softly and gnaws it a little.
Wild eyes his tail as it wags happily and smirks trying to imagine the farmer in place of the wolf - who is currently glaring at him, by the way. Glaring at all three of them, like he will actually bite the asscheeks off of their backsides himself if they say anything on the matter at any given time to anybody else.
“Does he like it?” Skull Kid asks as they go back to petting him.
The growl that comes from the furred throat makes them giggle while also discouraging Wild and Legend from making any remarks.
It falls on Four to snicker heartily: “He likes it, alright.”
The child grins wider and lets their face bury back inside the soft matted fur, pulling gently at it with their little hands. Softly, they begin shaking as they attempt to climb on top of the animal - at which point Legend quickly stands and tries to pry them off with little effort. At the very least he finds out that the shaking is caused by bursts of enthusiastic purring.
“Let go, come on,” he insists, “You can’t ride him like you’d ride a horse, he’s not built for that! You’re going to break his back if you sit on it!”
Some kind of howling ‘mrrrap!’ escapes the imp, sounding like a protest.
“I know you’re light, but that doesn’t change anything!”
“Gold’s right, you know.” Four interrupts them. He grabs the wooden arm and pulls it down, succeeding where the veteran is failing and guiding Skull Kid towards the rear: “You need to sit near his tail, on the hipbones. Pat here - you should feel them. Most of the other bones are too thin to hold somebody up, but those ones are bigger and stronger, and won’t have a problem.”
“They won’t?”
“They won’t,” he assures them laughing, “He holds me up just fine when I sit on there, and you weigh even less than me.”
Skull Kid lets him sit them up on Wolfie, who immediately takes them for a trotting spin as soon as they are secured on his back.
Legend gently hits the back of the smithy’s head: “How come they listen to you and nobody else?” he demands to know, his tone grumbly while he looks at the pest have the time of their life.
Four smiles: “Because I’m their favorite,” he answers smugly.
“My friend is my favorite!” Skull Kid corrects. Wolfie turns back so they can lean closer to the smith with a sharp grin: “But you’re very nice,” they add, and bonk his forehead with a smooch.
“And we aren’t?” the veteran insists.
“No.”
He glares at them: “You’re a pest.”
“And I’ll kiss the wolf!” they reply, completely ignoring the point of the veteran’s affirmation to change the subject instead.
Wild looks at the imp lean down towards the furred snout and runs to them: “Noo, don’t kiss the wolf,” he warns as he tries to contain the round head in his hands to keep it from getting mauled,“He doesn’t like that. Wind- Sea almost got his face bitten for this, so don’t you try it.”
“I’m going to.”
“No you aren’t. I told you, he’s really selective! He only accepts kisses from pretty girls. Now, are you a boy?”
“No.”
It’s not necessarily a surprise, but it still catches him off guard.
“... Are you a girl?”
“No.”
“Ah, darn,” the cook snaps his fingers in fake disappointment: “So close.”
“I see you forgot they would need to be pretty too.” Legend reminds him.
A twig-like arm points at him: “Shut the up,” grumbles Skull Kid.
They are met with laughter.
“Shut up! You’re Stinky!” they growl at him, “You don’t know what wolves think is pretty! And he doesn’t know I’m not a girl, so I can kiss him still.”
“Well maybe he didn’t before, but he did hear you say you’re not a girl right now, you... Are aware of that, right?” Four points out, amused but not necessarily in a malicious manner.
Skull Kid frowns with their entire face, giving the impression that the wooden cogs of their little head are planning a murder while giving a cat-ish growl.
Then they stick out their tongue in defiance and dive head first into the snout.
There’s a loud CROCK!, a short scream, several curses against the gods, the oracles and all that has some sort of power in this world, and Skull Kid begins giggling while Twilight’s sturdy hands hold them up and check the bitemark.
“Want part of ‘don’t kiss the wolf, it will bite you’ didn’t you get?!” he chastises them as they keep laughing. “I don’t see what’s so funny about this! It was stupid, and it was irresponsible, and would it have killed you to wait until I turned back to normal for that?”
“But I wanted to kiss a wolf,” the child replies with all the naturalness in the world. The amber oozing from the injuries is covering them up already.
“Then you should have found another one!”
Skull Kid is moved around in the rancher’s hands like a large empty sack as he checks again if the bite cut too deep into the bark shell, sighing in relief as the imp giggles all fine and full of mischief with little orange dots glimmering on their head like weird misplaced freckles.
“They know?” Legend distracts him, eyes blown out of his skull.
Before the farmer can answer, Four cuts in: “When did you tell them?”, immediately followed by Wild as he grumbles: “And what made you think that was a good idea?”
“I’m good at keeping secrets,” Skull Kid objects.
Twilight slithers his palm under their hat and pats the wooden head: “They knew already,” he replies. “They just thought there was another wolf.”
“And I’m good at keeping secrets.” the imp insists.
“They met you as a wolf before?” Wild asks.
“We... Played tag together,” Twilight explains evasively, “And they led me to the sword, which turned me back to normal the first time I came around.”
Little hands pull at his hair and take his attention back to the vaguely ferret shaped creature wiggling in his grasp; he turns to find wide blind eyes gazing straight into his soul, and he mentally pats himself on the back when he manages not to recoil in fright at the mere sudden sight of it.
The round head tilts: “You lied,” they say cheerily.
That does confuse him.
Luckily, Skull Kid does not let him think about it: “You told me nobody else knew, but they do know. So you lied!”
“It was to make sure you wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“I wouldn’t have told anyone anyways! I’m good at keeping secrets.”
“Oh yeah?” Legend probes. “How many secrets do you know?”
“None. Or maybe I got told some but I forgot.”
“Wait a minute-” Twilight interrupts them: “-That’s the same thing you said to me! How many secrets do you actually know?”
The kid smiles wide and sharp.
“If I knew any secrets and told you so, then they wouldn’t be that secret anymore, no?” they argue with the wit of the fae.
Four smiles at their words, and the other three bregrudgingly agree.
The child giggles and settles in a comfier position in the rancher’s hands: “See,”  they gloat, all proud of themself for being such a clever little thing (and quite honestly they deserve to be): “I’m good at keeping secrets.”
The veteran hums: “I’ll be the judge of that,” he grumbles. “For now, I’ll only trust you as far as I can throw you.”
The statement intrigues Skull Kid greatly, if their sudden thoughtful look is any indication. Scratching at their mouth, they begin musing: “I’m very light, I think you could throw me really far.”
“Bet you wouldn’t clear a hundred feet,” Wild smirks.
The challenge makes the little head perk up and Twilight’s blood pressure rise.
“Deal,” Legend accepts, going in to grab the child, but the farmer stands up as quickly as he can and holds them in the air with glare like death as he stops him right there: “Nobody is hurling the kid through the air!”
"But I wanna see how far Stinky can make me go," the imp squeaks.
"Well I don't!"
"Oh, right," Four nonchalantly intervenes to change the subject before it all degenerates somehow: "There's still the whole 'Stinky' thing to get sorted out."
The cook turns to Legend: "Right - you need to kiss their-"
"-The head, yes, yes, I remember that," the other finishes for him. "I don't care though, I think I'll just let it stick."
"If you don't change it back I'm giving you a worse one," Skull Kid threatens.
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
There is a pause as the child thinks.
"Tamér putén."
Legend snorts. Then, as soon as he fully realizes what he has just heard, he folds in on his stomach and begins laughing hysterically, half wheezing and half howling as hard as he can, genuine mirth erupting from him so hard that soon tears are about to spill and the other heroes are almost a little scared.
Twilight turns to Skull Kid with furrowed eyebrows and concern in his voice: "What does that mean?"
"I think it was something very vulgar," Four theorizes while Wild gently pats the veteran's back so that he doesn't choke on air while crouched on the floor with his face in his hands.
The imp just shrugs: "An adult yelled it at me," they just say.
"Definitely vulgar." the cook concludes.
Legend coughs a couple of times and finally regains some kind of composure despite his frame still shaking from sparse chuckles. When he rises to his feet he holds the blind head in his hands and with an earnestness that feels out of place for him he lands a kiss right on top of it between giggles, making the kid flush - or at least that would be the effect if they had any blood within them - and flap their ears excitedly as their grin widens.
"Never call me like that again," he tries to sound threatening as he keeps laughing, a finger pressing against the wooden nose; their only reply is an enthusiastic purr.
His face soon dives back in his palm to contain his hilarity: "That's it," he cackles, "That's it, the moment I was missing even with all my travels! I’m done, I’ve had it all! I've lived an honest to the Goddesses completely full life! After a 10-year-old threatened to permanently change my name to 'Whore Be Your Mother', I've officially gone through everything!"
“Change it to what!” the other three immediately exclaim in different flavors of incredulity mixed with wild amusement, genuinely baffled surprise, and the beginnings of what is very possibly an aneurysm.
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cryptiduniverse · a year ago
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haven’t drawn much lately so here’s just a lil doodle of Aki and Mei chilling together 
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findingjoynweirdstuff · 6 months ago
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Ooooo okay overall thoughts on what Tommy did on stream today? As someone who’s been around for a while I’d love to hear your thoughts :)
Anon, you have sparked a ramble because I love talking about meta shit like this. Be warned and also thank you >:)
So...
Remember this?
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And this?
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And this?
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One thing that makes Dream SMP alive is the constant change. Nothing is permanent, nothing is sacred. As much as it hurt, the New L'manburg Festival's impact came from seeing the Community House, which everyone thought for so long surely couldn't be destroyed, in ruins.
Even before then! It was strange to see the old Community House everyone loved go when Dream, Sapnap and George remodeled it after the Reddit post.
But, you know Quackity's second Las Nevadas stream? Do you remember what made that flashback scene so, so impactful when you first saw it?
The fact that, before anything else gave away that it was a flashback, before you saw the black walls of L'manburg cluing you in, you saw this:
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Nothing in those pictures looks like it does today. The instant you see that, you know it’s the past. And when you finally saw the walls, it was all the more impactful from that build-up.
Where Purpled's Walmart once stood, Puffy's Targay stood next. Jack Manifold's Tesco in the sky above it was destroyed a long time ago. And now there's room for something else.
Where Fundy's Socializing Club once stood, Ponk's essential oils shop stood. And now there's room for something else.
The Community House has been blown up multiple times. Even Dream's bedroom underneath it was taken out in the explosion from Fundy's prank.
Where Skeppy's house once stood, Bad and Skeppy's mansion now stands.
Tommy's house has changed faces so many times, it hasn't been the original since July of last year.
You can't just carbon date the SMP by which version of Tommy's house you see, or what the I <3 ANDREA sign reads -- you can do that for the whole thing.
Ponk's casino was built on land that used to be taken up by Sam's little castle from when he rejoined the server after his hiatus.
Eret's museum had room made for it by taking down an old frame of a build that was never finished.
The original Camarvan, as iconic as it was, was taken down only a few days after the L'manburg War!
Eret's entire tower -- yes, this tower
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was completely destroyed, top to bottom. Entirely demolished. (Thanks, Fundy)
There are a few cases where it definitely hurts. Alyssa's house is the last remnant of the lake area from the early days, one of the very few builds from that time still standing. Wilbur's ball house is the one remaining marker we have of his time on the server from before L'manburg. Those, I think, I would be genuinely sad to see go. The ones where they’re the only remnant of that time, y’know?
But the gingerbread house? That's only been here since December, man, and it takes up so much room. Targay's only been there since November and it had already replaced another build before it. This is a lot more room to build, some much-needed change on the Prime Path tbh.
I was sad to see the CRY sign go a while back purely because it made angsty lore 10x funnier with it in the background, but it's gone now and that's that.
Besides, we'll always have builds somewhere on the server that remain from the old times. Whether it's the escape tunnel to Pogtopia that managed to survive Doomsday, or Techno's old base, or Dream's grave marker for his parrot who died on his journey home with Spirit that still stands, somewhere out there in the ice spikes, waiting for someone to come across it someday.
I mean, this isn't even to mention the sentimental items. 
Spirit's leather is fake. The original was destroyed. For all we know, Tommy's discs are just two of the many decoys that circulated around throughout the saga with no way to tell the real ones apart. Hell, Tommy got attached to the fucking decoy discs back in the day and Tubbo scolded him for that lmao. They got rid of those eventually though. 
This probably all plays a big part in why attachment and legacy are such big themes of DSMP's story. People get attached to things, people get nostalgic, people care about things, but everything in the story has to be let go of at one point or another. It's a balance.
So, time for some summer cleaning!
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moemoemammon · 4 months ago
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Following that "least favorite" request could we get their reactions to being to told that they're their favorite, but to not tell the other brothers so their feelings don't get hurt? Maybe because they relate to them the most or just get along really well. Thanks!
You're My Favorite! But Don't Tell the Others-
(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)
✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦
Lucifer
There are no words to explain the overwhelming satisfaction ion Lucifer’s face after you tell him that. Of course, it’s only natural that he would be your favorite, all things considered.
The Avatar of Pride won’t ever forget this moment. He carefully considers your words and agrees not to tell anyone, as much as he’d love to bring it up, because he knows more than anyone what kind of chaos would ensue should the others (especially Mammon) find out.
But they can tell something’s up when the eldest has been heard humming all day. He moves about the house with even more grace than usual, and hasn’t scowled even once.
But the REAL shocker was when Mammon tried hiding a bill right as Lucifer walked in... and the eldest let him off with a warning. A WARNING! The brothers thought the Devildom must’ve frozen over, but you and he knew different.
“MC, I would like you to accompany me to Le Pluvier this afternoon, once you've finished your studies. I've already made reservations, so be sure to get ready on time. I've made sure to consider the things you might like to eat, so I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. Don't be late." "...I'm grinning? I don't know what you're talking about."
Mammon
The gigantic grin on Mammon’s face is so bright, it could rival the sun. You’ve seriously made his day. No, his year. Actually, he’s pretty sure he could ride this high for the next millennia! There’s nothing in this world that could dampen his spirits right now! 
He feels like he just won big at the casino! Of course he’s your favorite! He WAS your first demon, and now he’s gone and claimed his rightful spot as your number one! Good luck trying to keep him from saying anything. Mammon’s gonna throw it around in everyone’s faces for as long as he can milk it.
And you thought he was clingy before, just wait till you see how he treats you after hearing that. Despite always calling you his ‘servant’ or his ‘human’, you’d  think your roles were reversed. Mammon spoils you every chance he gets, buying you clothes and trinkets, filling the spaces in your room with the things he knows you like, monopolizing you completely until nearly everything you own is a gift from him.
Your words also help soothe that jealousy of his a little. Only a little, though. It’s easier to watch you talk to other demons when he knows he’ll always be your first man.
“Didja really have to stay after class that long? I know you were talkin' to that demon that lent you a book, but you outta ask ME for stuff! Tch... you're lucky I'm in a good mood today! But I guess I don't have to worry about some low level demon like that, seein' as I'm your favorite!"
Levi
Wait wait wait....Come again? Did you seriously just say what he think you said..? That had to be a mistake! Some kind of...uh..verbal typo! Because there’s absolutely, positively, NO WAY in all of the nine layers that he could be your favorite demon. And yet you still insist that you’re telling the truth, and Levi feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. 
Red faced and stammering up a storm, Levi looks like he might die. Is it really okay for a shut-in otaku to feel this giddy? Seriously, he hasn’t felt like this since he got his hands on a signed copy of a Ruri Hana audio drama! No no, this definitely beats that!
You’ve managed to inflate his nearly nonexistent ego, and now he feels like there’s nothing he can’t do! Maybe he could even go to Majolish right now?? THAT’S how good he’s feeling!
Almost as bad as Mammon in keeping it a secret. He doesn’t tell anyone right away, but they’re suspicious when they notice how much time he’s spending out of his room. And then when he and Mammon get in another petty argument, he drops the bomb that he’s your favorite demon in the entire Devildom, and you can guess how things go from there.
“Uuuoooo...!!!!! I've decided..! Since I've got a serious stat buff, I'm going to open a booth at the next convention coming up..! I'll sell my Ruri-chan fan art and spread her influence all over the Devildom! I'd never have the guts to do it normally, but I feel like I could do anything right now! Y-you'll go too, won't you MC?"
Satan
You nearly made this man spit tea all over his book, and now he’s coughing and spluttering and trying to figure out what could’ve prompted what he’s taking as a confession. You.. do realize what you’re saying, don’t you? And you know the kind of effect your words have on him?
Satan isn’t the type that wears his heart on his sleeve, so you have to look for his subtle expressions to tell how he’s feeling. But there’s nothing subtle about the redness of his ears and how he’s begging you not to look at him right now. For the sake of his sanity, give him a minute to recoup.
When he does recover, he agrees to keep it a secret for obvious reasons. And it’s hard to tell that he’s in a good mood, other than the fact that he hasn’t tried to pull any pranks on Lucifer lately. But Asmo sees all, and literally hounds him into spilling the tea.
He tells him a lie of course, but now the other brothers are noticing just how happy he is. Satan's smiling way too much today, isn't he? And he didn't even get mad when Beel got whipped cream on his jacket! Well, not THAT mad, anyway.
"Haaah... everyone's been harassing me all day, claiming I'm smiling a lot. I'm sure I look the same as I always do, but I'll admit that I've been happy ever since you told me that this morning. Wait.. you did think I've been grinning too, do you? I have??"
Asmo
Asmo always jokes about being your favorite and announces it as if the two of you are married, but when you actually confirm that his longing for you isn’t one sided, he ends up smearing lip balm across his cheek in shock. Did you... really say that just now? He knew it all along, but hearing it like that is just...!
Ooooh, he’s so happy he can hardly contain himself! Asmo throws his arms around you, peppering your face in kisses until you feel sticky from lip balm, wipes your face clean, then marks it up all over again. Good luck getting rid of him, because he might never let go.
Immediately posts it to Devilgram. Did you really think he’d let such a momentous occasion go unannounced? You must not have been paying attention to the kind of person he is! Asmo would put you on a pedestal in front of the world like a precious jewel if he were able, but this’ll have to do. He won’t hide his love at all!
Of course, the others don’t take too kindly to it, not that he cares. He never leaves your side, pampers you like crazy, and has even attempted to get you to move into his room. Lucifer put an immediate stop to that, though. Boo...
“I just can't get enough of you, MC! Just being near you gets me so excited that I can hardly stand it! You'll take responsibility for what you're doing to me, won't you? And in exchange, I'll take my time showing you just how much I love you. After all, you're my favorite, too!"
Beel
Beel never has a problem with choking while he eats, and it comes as naturally as breathing. Unfortunately neither of that applies right now, since you just made him choke on a meatball sub.
He usually takes your words with quiet acceptance, but this might be the most emotion you've ever witness from the stoic demon. His eyes are wider than that time that laid on an entire gingerbread mansion, sparkling up with such deep emotion you wouldn't be surprised if he cried. Instead he softens up and immediately embraces you.
...And doesn't let go. Sandwich long forgotten, he's been carrying you around all day, and ignoring any questions or protests from his brothers. Also insists on feeding you throughout the day. The food tastes better when he can enjoy it with you, so why not just bring you everywhere?
When he isn't carrying you, he's following you around subconsciously, either close up against you like a protective wall, or just far enough that you're within his line of sight. As far as not telling anyone, he... tells Belphie immediately. It was an accident though, since there's not much he keeps from his twin.
"MC, I won a meal ticket for Godevil Chocolatier. Let's get something for dessert today. Ah, you can get as much as you want, too. I really want to see what things you choose. They might become my favorites."
Belphie
There's nothing in this world that can wake Belphegor from his sleep, unless he allows it. No loud noises, no amount of shaking or smacking, and not even dragging him around the house. But the moment you whisper that he's your favorite demon, the Avatar of Sloth is wide awake.
Hey, you're not just saying weird things to get a reaction, are you? Because if so, this is a new level of cruel. Yet you confirm that you mean it and swear him into secrecy, and Belphie tries his best not to show how happy he is. A smile keeps creeping up on his face that he struggles to force down. It's annoying...
As funny as it’d be to tell everyone the news, he's good at keeping secrets. Instead, you've noticed that he's been sleeping a little less that before. When he does take one of his hundreds of naps, he finds some way to be closer to you. He's even been seen sleepwalking to your exact location somehow-
It's hard for him to believe that you're not teasing, though. How could HE be your favorite demon here? Belphie doesn't do anything special to win you over, yet after everything he put you through, you like him enough to deep him your favorite?
"You're weird, MC. I mean... me? I won't deny that I'm really happy though, but I guess I'm in disbelief. You should spoil me even more until I believe you. Lend me your lap for a few hours, okay?" "...I wonder what Lucifer would think if I told him, heheh."
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ickyism · 6 days ago
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CAPTAIN’S BACK!
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featuring. pirate!wakasa x tavern owner!afab!reader
for. @kazuwhora​ ‘s tokyo treasures collab!
w.c. 2.1k words
desc. wakasa promised he’ll make you his when he comes back from sea. how? fucking you in the tavern you worked at of course.
MINORS DNI. sub reader, you have a brother, family owned business, mentions of a dead siren, titty sucking, use of nicknames (pretty girl, doll, etc.), fingering, oversitmulation, unprotected sex, alcohol, use of weapon (dagger), mentions of blood, taekeomi and senju’s in this, not proofread. let me know if i missed anything!
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“when i come back and get that bounty, i’ll make you mine.” 
those were the words he told you before he left. you almost forgot about it, but the lingering image of his smug smile whenever he visits you at work, couldn’t leave your thoughts. it’s been months since he left and you thought he already died, not that you expected anything though, never been interested in him in the first place. maybe just an exaggeration. hopefully, he doesn’t die since your beloved senju was on board. 
already wiping away the newly cleaned glasses at the bar, the tavern’s lively as always, bards singing, customers cheering. you didn’t pay any mind with the bells chiming from the entrance. you were used to it since you’ve been working there your whole life, just a family business.
hearing one of your tables crashing down, that’s when you finally look up. “give me my fucking gold asshole!” 
“fuck it’s that fucking pirate.” your brother said beside you. “no way,” you mutter. there he was, imaushi wakasa in the flesh. threatening a man with a dagger by his neck. “i got you that siren, didn’t know if you wanted her alive, but she killed one of my men, so it’s just some rotten corpse now. not like you’d keep em alive though? fucking creep. now where’s my fucking gold?”
you sigh, feeling the tension build up within the place. you hear a whistle beside you, “hey love.” a familiar face sits by the bar. “senju! god only knows how i missed you.” you say.
you hear wakasa laughing, kicking another table off, bottles of beer falling with it. the sounds of glass shattering hurt your ears, “senju… was he always this... eager?” you ask while preparing her usual drink. she gives you an apologetic smile. after her leaving with wakasa and the crew, you really did miss her regular visits. “so you guys managed to complete the bounty huh?” she nods.
you just watch the scene unfold while you serve her the drink. the man shakily hands him the bag of gold. wakasa takes the bag and throws the gold on the table. “do you think i’m stupid? this isn’t what we agreed on. you get me my payment or i’m throwing that dead fish back to sea.” 
you grunt, the tension was so bad. the music already died down while some of the customers went out. the place was already being replaced by the crew demanding drinks. “i’ll handle it, no worries.” your brother says, already walking towards them.
“i-i’m sorry sir, i have to get more back home. i didn’t expect to have you come back this early.” wakasa scoffs at the term used. this man must’ve been brave to say that. you should never mess with a pirate, that was an unspoken rule in this town. nonetheless, you’ve never seen this person here, must’ve been new. 
wakasa’s dagger cut at the edge of the man’s neck, he was trembling in fear. “awe don’t go pissing your pants now lad! that pretty lady would be forced to clean that up.” takeomi shouts from a table, giving you a nod. 
you roll your eyes at the pathetic man, “was it hard?” senju nods after she chugs down the drink. “make me one more. also, yes it was hard. her singing hurt my fucking ears! i guess it only really works for men. though, i had to finish the job. at least wakasa was smart enough to have his ears plugged.” you chuckle, whipping her another drink while you see wakasa starts to walk towards you before he orders one of his men to pick up the fallen gold. the man already running off. “then i guess i should give you a reward hm?” 
“hey there my pretty girl, did you miss me?” he teases. you give senju her second round before she waves off and walks to a different table, wakasa takes her place. he places his chin on his hand, leaning on the table while he watched you work, admiring your concentrated face. “did i miss the man who loved to bother me while i work? i wonder what the answer would be. so what’ll you have today?” he gasps at your question, before laughing it off. “ow, that’s cold pretty girl, and i did my best to come back here early. you didn’t forget my proposal did you?” you froze, you thought he'd forgotten all about that. “so, did you? anyways, if you give me a chance i’ll show you how.” 
“you’d you show me what?” 
he smiles, “how i’ll make you mine.” 
“and how are you so confident i’ll be yours by tonight?” you ask, leaning towards him. “well, if your cockblock of a brother,” he says while looking at your brother with a grin, “leaves to get home early, i’ll have you all to myself now wouldn’t i?” 
he really was true to his word, he just stayed there, ordered a few drinks, hands teasingly gracing your thigh when you passed by him to serve drinks. it was late now, for sure, yet he was still here. “you better not get pregnant or i’m killing him.” your brother whispers and bids his goodbye, telling him he’d be heading home before giving the pirate a glare. wakasa waves him off playfully then stares at you. 
waiting for a few more seconds before he speaks, making sure your brother has left. “we’re alone now darling, come here. i won’t bite, unless you like that.” walking towards him, he grabs you by the waist, burying his face on your neck. you take a sharp breath, nervous from what’s about to unfold while you hesitantly place your hands on his shoulders.
“did i ever tell you that you smell so good?” he pulls you closer, using one of his hands to bring your face near his. “kiss me.” he commands. you lean in slowly, before he smashes your lips on his. the kiss felt hungry, tasting the liquor you made him earlier, his tongue licking your bottom lip, asking for entrance. letting him in, his tongue explores your mouth, moaning into your mouth. you tasted so good for him, mouth so used to liquor and fish, this was all new to him, and he couldn’t get enough. 
“pretty girl, can i fuck you?” he asks while he pulls away. grabbing him by the collar of his coat you kiss him again, then pulling away before he could even kiss back. “that an answer for you, captain wakasa?” 
he stands up, carrying you while you wrap your legs around him, setting your down on the counter. taking off your clothes while you bit your lip. you didn’t think you’d anticipate what’s about to go down now, but the first kiss got you worked up. he takes his top off, keeping his trousers while he runs his fingers through your folds. his other hand on your tit, playing with your nipple. 
he collects the juices before entering one finger. your whimper, and if he wasn’t any harder than he was right now, he’d cum right there from the sounds you were making. needing to grip onto something you pull him closer, your arms tight around his neck while he heard every sound that left your pretty lips. wakasa attacks to your neck, kissing away, leaving bites and marks along as adding another finger in you—he pumps and curls them up, hitting your sweet spot. 
crying out as you buck your hips against his hand, trying to stimulate your clit by hitting it against his palm. wakasa notices your reactions and presses his hand against it experimentally. he continues working his fingers in you, moving his palm away slightly to replace it with his thumb, spelling his name on the bundle of nerves. he watches you in ecstasy. a moaning mess, just for him. though he loved going out to sea, this might be his new favorite. you felt so embarrassed, not believing that the sounds coming out of your mouth were even yours. your mind was spiraling, your heart was pounding. everything just felt so good. “you ever touch this pussy? ever make yourself feel good?”
you groan, “s-sometimes.” it was so hard to keep focus— feeling so fucked out he hasn’t even pulled his dick out yet. getting impatient you unbuckle his belt, he lets you do what you want, but swats away your hand when you try to touch him. “not yet, i want you to cum on my fingers first.” you were so close, it took just one more roll to your clit to send you over the edge. “fuck.”  finally pulling out his dick and running his tip through your folds.  
your hands were on his chest while you legs spread out even further, exposing to him your dripping cunt. you still haven’t calmed down from your high, you might just cum again if he puts his dick in you. “you sure about this doll?” you nod at him. “well, you said so.” 
fuck, he was so big— just from the tip entering you, it just felt too much. you start to tear up, hugging him so tight while he praised you in whispers. though big, he entered you so well, just right. “holy shit pretty girl. feel like this pussy’s made for me. why didn’t i just fuck you before i left? would’ve claimed you a long time ago.” 
wakasa pushes you down, your back against the hard wood while he bucks his hips onto yours—you buck upwards, wanting to match his pace. you could feel the hot knot in your stomach, he was fucking you so good you bit his shoulder to muffle your moans in hopes not to wake the neighboring stores. you cum again once he finally bottomed out. yet he continued, thrusting his dick and with every thrust had you whining. so fucking sensitive you feel like you’d cum again. with every roll of his hips sends you to the edge, your nails scratching on his back while he hisses at the pain. every move your made had you lolling out your tongue, your eyes rolling back and drool sliding at the edge of your mouth.
you couldn’t believe it, getting fucked out on the bar by a pirate while your nails ran through his back as he continued with his violent thrusts. “fuck, your cunt’s so fucking tight, never got dicked down properly that’s for s-sure.” he’s become so rough with the way he held your hips. held it so hard each time you clench around him. it might have bruises the next day but you didn’t care.
“i love you my pretty girl.”
too fuck out to give him a reply not even realizing what he’d just say. “w-waka please. a-ah fuck i’ll cum! slow down.” you push him away, but he pulls you even closer. “not fair if you’re the only one cumming sweetheart.” didn’t take long till you felt his hot seed in you. hard thrusts turned sloppy, forcing another round to make you cum again. finally screaming out you squirt all over him. “wakasa fuck! fuck!” and he finally pulls out. all you could do was whine, call his name and thank him all over again while his cum spurts out your pussy. knowing how tired you’d be he didn’t bother with another round. 
he kisses your forehead while he puts his pants back on. going behind the bar to find tissues to clean you with. “so pretty girl, can i buy you dinner this week?”
“maybe you should’ve asked that before fucking me dumb, hmm?” 
he chuckles, placing his hands on your hips as he rests his forehead against yours. “i fucked you dumb pretty girl? i was that good huh?” 
when you close up the shop he lends his hand out. taking it he intertwines your fingers while he brings you home. “pretty girl, do you love me?” 
“wakasa, the only time we’ve spent together is you trying to make a move on me while i work before you go out to sea. now you come back and fuck my brains out.” you say with a huff. wakasa loved being with you, any bitch who’d come to him isn’t as confident nor interesting as you, he can’t mess this up. he chuckles, kissing the top of your hand and walking in pure bliss. “i guess i can’t really answer that yet. but i can’t stop thinking about your stupid face.”
“then i guess it’s a yes! i’ll take it!” what an idiot.
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© ickyism. do not repost/steal/copy.
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neonheeseung · a month ago
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8:29 pm
*sunghoon as your boyfriend*
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rated 18+
any minors interacting with my works will be blocked
word count: 1.1k
warnings: petite reader (I'm a shorty myself uwu), soft dom!sunghoon x sub virgin!reader, shy!reader, praise kink, size kink, bulge kink, subspace, dacyrphilia, creampie, unprotected sex (never forget that if you're going to play, you've got to pay, so always take precautions to protect yourself, please~)
a/n: This was supposed to be a drabble, but I got so incredibly carried away-
☆.✧;☆.✧;☆.✧;☆.✧;☆.✧;☆
"Go ahead," you whispered. "I'm not scared."
Sunghoon's eyes were wide with worry as he looked down at your tiny body.
"I don't know if I'll fit, baby-"
"Sunghoon," you whined, arching up against his naked chest, "please, I need you."
His fisted hands, one on either side of your head, trembled as he continued to stare. "I don't want to hurt you."
His soft words made a tingle of adoration buzz through your body, but it was quickly overridden by your impatience to have him make you his own. "I don't care, Hoon. It would hurt with anyone. Because, you know-" Your voice trailed off as you blushed, eyes suddenly breaking contact with his. "I've never had anyone... make love to me before," you finished in a whisper.
Sunghoon worried his beautiful lower lip between his teeth, neck muscles looking so taut that you almost thought they would snap. His self-control was evidently waning.
"Please," you breathed, shamelessly gliding your hands down his firm pecs and towards his trim waist. As your fingertips ghosted over his v-lines, he shivered, a low moan tumbling from his lips.
"Fuck, baby," he breathed. "Okay. But we'll go slow."
Shivering with anticipation, you wrapped your hands around his neck and your legs around his waist as he lined up his intimidatingly huge, leaking cock with your entrance.
Slowly and deliciously, he pushed inside, immediately stopping when your face screwed up.
"You're so big," you gasped, already feeling your legs trembling.
When you managed to open your eyes, it was to see your boyfriend gazing down at you with an expression of pure panic.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes, keep going," you panted. "I can take it."
Your words drew a deep sound from his chest, and he carefully inched forward, deeper and deeper between your sopping folds.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he whispered, clenching his eyes closed as he struggled to keep his movements slow and gentle.
At the sound of your responding whimper, he froze. "Breathe, doll. Don't pass out on me."
Obediently, you took a deep breath, realizing with a start that you had indeed been holding it.
The both of you released low moans as he finally sheathed his entire length within your tiny hole, your hips pressed flush against each other's.
It hurt. His manhood was so large that all you could feel was the sharp pain of the stretch, and you let out a tiny whimper, the welling tears finally spilling over your cheeks.
"Shh, don't cry, doll," Sunghoon whispered, peppering the wet trails with gentle kisses.
To his credit, your boyfriend was incredibly patient, holding perfectly still as you struggled to accommodate his size. Gradually, over a period of time that felt like years, the pain died down by the smallest degree, just enough for you to feel a strange, wonderful feeling. It felt… It felt…
A high-pitched keen slid from between your lips as your back arched off the bed. “Sunghoon, move, please.”
The minute his name sounded from your pretty little mouth, he gasped, involuntarily thrusting forward.
“I’m so sorry-” he began to say, mortified at the thought of hurting you, but the only sound you made was one that spurred him on. The most beautiful groan he’d ever heard escaped you, sending a flash of heat coursing through both your bodies.
“I can take it.” You repeated your earlier words, desperately rolling your hips upward. “You feel so good.”
“It doesn’t hurt anymore?” Sunghoon breathed, a wild hope flashing in his chest. “It hurts, but it feels good, too.” You squirmed, frantic for the slightest friction. “Sunghoon, please!”
With a deep breath, he rolled his hips against yours, causing you to moan with the pain and the pleasure of it all. He felt so girthy and perfect, filling you to the brim, his tip practically kissing your womb.
“So tight,” he groaned, trembling above you. “So tight and wet for me, baby.”
You babbled incoherently, shaking like a leaf as he slowly and sensually thrusted in and out of your slick walls.
“So good,” he whispered, as he dropped kisses on your fluttering eyelids.
“Hoonie,” you whimpered. “Hoonie, I-”
The sensations were all too much, sending you spiralling away into a place where all you could see, think, feel was him. All you could smell was the beautiful scent of his sweat and your arousal. All you could hear were his tiny whimpers and the sounds of the bed creaking, but even those noises seemed faded and blurry, as though you were hearing them from behind a wall of clouds-
“Hey,” breathed Sunghoon, nibbling gently at your lower lip. “Come back to me, sweetheart. Where’d you go?”
As you let out a tiny gasp, forcing your eyes back open and your mind to come out of that haze, you could see Sunghoon’s heart fluttering in the deep pools of his eyes.
“How can you be so cute?” he cooed, grasping your throat gently as he continued his ocean-like movements.
His cock twitched inside you again when you keened his name, clinging to him desperately, as though you would die if you let go. He knocked against your g-spot, only to have a tiny smirk settle on his lips when you gasped, walls clenching like a vise around him. “Found it.”
Mercilessly, he kept rolling his hips at that perfect angle to hit that gummy spot inside you, leaving you a sobbing, writhing mess between his arms. Through it all, he cooed at you gently, kissing the pleasured tears from your face and whispering about how you were doing so well, taking him so perfectly, clenching so tight around him, crying so prettily.
“Look, honey,” he breathed, placing one hand on your little tummy. “Look how deep I can go.”
Tiny gasps left your lips as you gazed down at his hand with watery eyes. With each of his deep, slow thrusts, your tummy bulged deliciously, and the sight sent you toppling abruptly over the edge.
“Sunghoon,” you gasped, clinging closer. “Sunghoon, I’m-”
“Come for me, darling,” he assured you, “it’s okay.”
His hard muscles shuddered under your hands as you spasmed ceaselessly around his length, and the high-pitched chanting of his name had him coming with you, spilling his warm seed inside.
His beautiful gasps and the squelching noises of your walls around his twitching girth were the only sounds you heard, as you shivered and shook, whining like a child. The lovely, warm feeling traveled throughout your body, and a tiny smile settled over your face as you came down from the high to nuzzle your nose into his neck.
Sunghoon let his hands travel gently up and down your sides in a comforting gesture that had you sighing into his damp skin. “You did so well.”
“Thank you, Hoonie,” you murmured.
He hummed, placing an adoring kiss on your still-parted lips. “Anything for my angel.”
~☆°•¤♡¤•°☆~
taglist: [join] @yeonyeonyeonjun
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Text
A thing I need to say about exile arc: you cannot always rely on recaps unless they were day by day. I recently found out that several recap videos didn’t mention half of the stuff that happened since there was so much of it. One of the popular ones didn't even mention Tommy being suicidal at all. Sometimes I think I should rewatch and make my own recaps just because I know I won’t miss anything, and I still might if I have the time.
(/rp of course)
For those who weren’t here for the exile arc, here’s a few important lines and events that I've seen left out, plus a few common misconceptions cleared up:
1. Tommy either attempted or seriously considered suicide at least seven times over the course of exile
2. Dream did not just take the invitations from Ghostbur, Dream took the invitations and then sent him out into a snowstorm planning for him to die and Ghostbur would have died if he hadn’t found Techno’s house
3. Dream did in fact know that Tommy was suicidal, having stopped him the first time he tried to kill himself. Also when Tommy flat out said it, Dream’s response was basically “Neat wanna see Drista again before you kill yourself”
4. Dream killed Mexican Dream
5. Dream immediately after killing MD tried to convince Tommy that MD had died of an overdose despite the fact that he literally killed him in front of Tommy
6. Tommy saw Mexican Dream as his last real friend and after he died said “I’ve nothing left to live for now”
7. Tommy killed Jack Manifold out of anger that Jack hadn’t come to visit before, then Tommy apologized right after it happened. He still to this day doesn’t know it was a canon death. Jack retaliated by destroying HOTTER Girl, it’s unclear if “killed” is the correct term
8. When Tommy and Tubbo were given the compasses, Dream told Tommy that Tubbo had burned his because he didn’t care about Tommy anymore
9. Multiple times, Tommy would set himself on fire in the nether and let himself burn, then refuse to eat even if he was on half a heart
10. When Dream destroyed Tommy’s items, he sometimes forced Tommy to light the tnt himself
11. Near the end of exile, if Tommy didn’t have any weapons or armor, he would make extra just for Dream to burn. He also referred to Dream destroying his things as a “bonding thing”
12. Ranboo was the only person other than Dream and Ghostbur to visit Tommy more than once
13. “I exiled you for a reason- I mean- Tubbo exiled you for a reason.”
14. ‘Tommy’s exile arc was sad but we all knew he would be okay’ Absolutely not. There was a point somewhere for almost everyone that we were pretty sure that he would either kill himself or risk it to get back to L’Manberg and get killed by Dream
15. When Quackity visited and found Tommy writing How To Sex 3, he thoguht Tommy was writing a suicide note. He actually wasn’t too far off, as Tommy had planned to kill himself right after he finished writing it.
16. When Tommy hid things from Dream, he was never planning to attack him. Originally it was mostly tools and pictures of L’manberg and Tubbo. He only added his weapons and valuables right before he planned to kill himself on the final day, because he said that people other than Ranboo didn’t visit him, and so they didn’t deserve them. (Ranboo knew about the secret room)
17. Dream didn’t only take Tommy’s weapons, he also took any tools, armor, and (attempted to take) all his pictures of Tubbo and L’manberg except for one picture of L’Manberg and a picture of the queen, which he did later destroy as well when he found the secret room
18. When Dream found Tommy’s secret stash, he (in order) destroyed everything that was in the chests, made Tommy drop everything in his inventory, killed Mushroom Henry, blew up all of Logsteadshire, blew up Tommy’s tent, destroyed the nether portal, then made Tommy drop everything he had managed to salvage and destroyed that too. Every time he went to destroy something else, he would say “Come over here, I want you to watch.” and then would wait until Tommy got there so that he could destroy the things in front of him.
19. Through that whole time, Tommy was desperately apologizing and Dream was yelling at him that he thought they were friends and that Tommy obviously didn’t care about him since he felt the need to hide things and also accused Tommy of plotting to kill him
20. “(scoffs) Tommy, you and I both know you could never actually… y’know. [kill yourself]”
21. The only people Tommy told about Dream destroying his items every day were MD and Ranboo, and when Ranboo expressed concern, Tommy defended Dream and said that it was okay because he deserved it and “It makes sense because I’m in [Dream’s] domain”
22.Tommy hallucinated Tubbo visiting him so many times that when he went to L’manberg he ignored Tubbo completely because he was convinced it was another hallucination
23. “You can’t go to the nether. No one can visit you until you learn to listen.”
24. Tommy never faked his own death. He was 100% intending for it to be a real death, he changed his mind right on the edge. After Logsteadshire was destroyed by Dream, Tommy built a tower up almost to the block limit that he was planning to jump off. He changed his mind after realizing that he could escape from Dream.
25. It’s a relatively common misconception that Tommy didn’t jump because he realized Dream was manipulating him. Quite the opposite, his first reaction to realizing that was thinking that it meant no one cared about him. He jumped into the water because the only reason he hadn’t left in the past was because of Dream, and Dream had planned on not coming back for a week as punishment for disobeying. (See when he got close to Techno’s house before saying “Dream wouldn’t want me to be here” and turning back)
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the-iceni-bitch · 2 months ago
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Such Selfish Prayers
Kinktober Day 30: Peccatiphilia (fetish for sinning) and Parthenophilia (fetish for virginal partners)
Pairing: priest!Steve Rogers x fem!reader
Words: ~3.7k
Summary: Meeting you might be the greatest test to his vows he’s ever faced.
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (loss of virginity, sex in a confessional, unprotected vaginal sex, praise kink), lots of religious themes, some angst, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!!
A/N: Oh boy, I want to wreck this man real bad. My blasphemy fetish popped all the way out for this one, and I’m not even a little sorry.
I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!
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The first time Steve saw you, he should have known you were going to test him in every way imaginable.
Seeing you in that red dress in the front pew at your friend’s baby’s baptism stirred something in him he hadn’t felt in years, the sound of your laughter and the way you smiled distracting him so much he almost forgot the words of the benediction he was giving. Since you didn’t partake of communion he was at least bolstered with the hope that he’d never have to see you after that day, the sight of the few extra inches of your thighs he got when you adjusted the hem of your skirt making his body ache in a way he thought was no longer possible.
Then you started coming to mass, and he could’ve died.
The first time it happened he thought it must have been a fluke, even as he stumbled through his homily and tried not to stare openly at you as you sat quietly in the back of the chapel with a small smile on your face. He couldn’t fathom what you were doing there, and when you disappeared once he released the congregation he was sure he had imagined you.
But there you were the next week, moving up a few rows and drawing irritated stares from other members of the congregation when they got a look at the low cut dress you were wearing. You still didn’t take the sacrament, though, staying in your seat and still giving him that knowing smile as everyone else filtered into the aisle to take communion. He couldn’t stop himself anymore, he had to talk to you.
“Hi there.” He managed to make it to the back of the sanctuary before you had a chance to exit, meeting you at the door and stopping you with a handshake and a bashful smile you couldn’t get enough of. “I’ve seen you hiding back there and wanted to check in. I’m Father Steve.”
“Ah, you’re a cool priest, then.” You winked at him when he gave you a soft laugh, letting the flow of the crowd moving past you press you closer to him until he was sucking in a sharp breath. He muttered your name under his breath when you told it to him, letting go of your hand reluctantly and telling you he hoped to see you again next week before watching you walk away with a deep sigh.
It was like that every Sunday for the next few weeks. As soon as he would finish his sermon he would rush to the back of the sanctuary so he could make sure to meet you when you made your exit. Your talks kept getting longer and longer, Steve trying to draw out more information about your life from you while trying to make it seem like he wasn’t prying, but he just wanted to know you, for some strange reason. After a few weeks of that he was ready to ask you some deeper questions.
“So, I’ve noticed you never take the sacrament.” He glanced at you through his lashes as you stood close to him again, for some reason always having trouble meeting your eyes, even when the movement of the congregation pushed you so close your chests were almost touching.
“Oh, I don’t think this is really the place for us to have that discussion, Steve.” Your smile was almost teasing as you toyed with the hem of your skirt and he fought to keep his eyes from scanning the exposed skin of your thighs.
“Maybe, I want to know, though.” Your laugh made his chest flutter, the desire to reach out and grip your waist almost overwhelming him. “Do you have to leave? We can talk when this is finished.”
“I have no plans, Steve.” You reached out and gave his arm a squeeze, and he had to lean on the railing behind him so he didn’t collapse. “I’ll meet you in the garden.”
He had to try so hard not to shove the rest of the congregation out the door, not caring at all about the little anecdotes each of the avid churchgoers kept trying to foist on him. As soon as the last one was gone he was rushing back to his quarters to strip out of his chasuble and change into a plain tab collar, doing his best to calm himself down as he strode out to join you in the garden. The way you made him feel was wildly inappropriate, but he just kept telling himself he was ministering to you and that seemed to at least tamp down his guilt.
You were sitting on one of the stone benches when he found you, the autumn breeze making your skirt flutter around your legs when you stood to greet him with another one of those heartbreaking smiles. Steve couldn’t stop himself from returning it when you started to walk together, the urge to guide you with a hand on the small of your back tickling his brain until he had to shove his hands in his pockets.
“So, no communion.” He gave you that shy smile when you laughed for him again, gazing at you sideways as the two of you strolled side by side. “What’s that about?”
“I dunno Steve, feels a little disrespectful to partake of the body of Christ when I’m not even sure I believe in that sort of thing.” You kicked at a leaf that blew in front of you absentmindedly as you peeked at him.
“You’re not sure? Is that why you started coming here then?” He tried to keep himself from sounding too eager, wanting nothing more than to find out exactly what it was that had brought you to him.
“No, that was something else.” You didn’t elaborate, letting the silence he left for you drag on until he felt obligated to fill it with something.
“Do you even believe in God then?” The wind was pulling at your skirt again, and he almost groaned when he thought he caught a glimpse of your panties.
“Honestly?” You bit your lip when you turned a little to face him, rubbing your arms against the chill in the air. “It just never really felt like a question that I needed answered.”
“Oh, wow.” He couldn’t stop himself from giving a scandalized laugh at that, running a hand through his hair and tossing his head back. “I think there’s like, two billion people alive and so many dead who would disagree with you on that.”
“Well fuck them.” You beamed when he laughed even harder, knocking your shoulder against his playfully. “I just feel like, even if it did exist, why would some all powerful being give a shit about whether I’m reading the right book, or going to the right building, or fucking people I’m not married to?”
“And that’s something you need?” This was dangerous talk, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking.
“I don’t know if I need it, but I don’t see why I should deprive myself of pleasure.” You shot him a mysterious look when he sucked in a sharp breath. “Who would benefit from that, Father?”
He didn’t have a chance to come up with an answer to that when a sharp gust of wind blew against you at the same time your heel rolled in a small dip in the ground, knocking you into Steve with a gasp so he had to wrap his arms around you to keep you from falling. Your face was so close to his, he could’ve dipped his head just a little and his lips would be pressed right against yours, his hands digging into your waist as your breath mingled and he considered brushing his nose over yours.
“Steve?” Your palms were warm where they rested on his chest, your eyes fixed on his until he let his gaze drop to your lips with a sigh. “I should go.”
“Right.” He gave it a beat before releasing you, letting his fingers trail down your arm until you took a step back and disconnected from him. “Let’s talk more, though. Dinner Wednesday? I’ll cook and everything.” He was too fascinated by you and the feelings you brought out of him to leave you alone, as much as he knew he should.
“I’d like that very much.” He couldn’t take it when you smiled at him like that, it made him want to give up everything he’d worked so hard for. “I’ll see you then.”
He watched you leave with a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach, letting out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding when you turned the corner and he lost sight of you. As soon as he had regulated himself he was storming back to his quarters and searching frantically, sighing with relief when he found the cigarettes he’d stashed mindlessly. He hadn’t even smoked in almost five years, but that had always been the one vice he allowed himself, and he figured it was better than what thoughts of how warm your body had felt pressed to his might drive him to. What was he going to do having you in his apartments for a whole evening?
The sight of you on Wednesday made all those anxious and guilty thoughts fly right out of his head, a warm grin splitting his face when you handed him a bottle of wine and pressed a hand to his chest with a certain air of affection.
“Just so you know, I’m not interested in any debating.” You let him take your coat and moved to the dining room, humming at the sight of the meal he’d made before sinking into a chair. “But I’ll answer your questions, Steve.”
“I don’t want to debate either. I just want to talk.” Steve sat next to you with a deep sigh, opening the wine you’d brought and pouring you a glass as you got yourself some food. “So, we covered the big God question, feel like diving right into the deep stuff or should we build to it?”
“Why don’t you get me a little drunk before popping the big questions, Steve?” You took a sip of wine before leaning a little closer to him with a small laugh, bumping his calf with the toe of your shoe when he gave you that bashful grin that you loved.
So he asked you all the small questions he’d been dying to know: where did you grow up? What did you do for work? Did you live in the city? Every answer he tucked away in his heart like a little treasure, utterly entranced by you and desperate for any knowledge of you he could glean.
“Well, we killed this.” He set aside the empty bottle after pouring the dregs into your glass, feeling flushed and warm from the alcohol as he scooted closer to you without thinking. “What d’you think, dove? Ready for a big question?”
“Dove?” You beamed at him and reached out to shove his shoulder playfully, laughing lightly when he blushed and spluttered a little. “No, it’s ok, I like it, Father.” You bit your lip when he gasped at you using his title, leaning your head on your hand and gazing at him with soft affection. “Ask away.”
“Alright, I’ve got one.” He took a swig of wine to strengthen himself. “What do you think is going to happen when you die?”
“God, that’s a doozy.” You leaned back in your seat and shook your head at him. “Nothing.”
“Nothing at all?” He leaned closer, gazing at you and licking his lips as you kept shaking your head at him. “That’s so sad. What’s the point, then?”
“There is no point, and isn’t that wonderful?” You leaned close to him, too, your faces mere inches apart as you gazed at him with sparkling eyes. “Isn’t it better if we show kindness and charity if there’s no giant cosmic reward hanging over our heads? Isn’t falling in love more meaningful if we’re choosing to share even just a few breaths of our short existence with someone else, rather than tying ourselves down for eternity?”
“That’s beautiful.” You were beautiful, he could feel himself getting lost in your eyes, wanting to reach out and trace the curve of your cheek with his thumb. “Where did you come from?”
“That feels like a question for next week.” Just like that the spell was broken, you rising to your feet and grinning at Steve before moving to grab your coat. “This was lovely, Steve, think we should make this a regular thing.”
And you did, Wednesday evenings becoming your nights. The two of you would eat and drink and talk into the small hours of the morning, moving from the kitchen to the dining room to the couch as you grew closer and closer. When you left he always lit up right away, the increasingly lingering touches and small signs of affection making his whole body warm and aching as he fought against feelings he didn’t want to think about.
After almost two months of it he was ready to crack, one night finding him emptying another bottle of wine all by himself in the confessional after practically devouring you before you had left for the night. He couldn’t fight it anymore, finally admitting to himself that every moment he spent with you he didn’t give a single care about any of the vows he’d taken.
“Bless me father, for I have sinned.” He sagged against the wall of the booth as his breath sawed in his chest, chugging the wine and ripping his collar open as he tried to keep from sobbing. “I’ve wanted to abandon my flock and the church, my heart feels like it’s being split in two. I’ve had horrible, impure thoughts. All the time, she’s the only thing I can think about. Fuck, I think I’m falling in love with her. I need your guidance, Lord, what do I do?”
God was silent. Steve felt something in his chest break as he started weeping, burying his face in his hands after dropping the empty bottle as he wallowed in the empty silence that surrounded him. He froze when he heard the echo of footsteps suddenly, holding his breath as they drew closer until he could see the shadow of someone’s feet under the door.
“Steve?” Your voice was like a shot to the heart, he choked on a sob when your fingers scraped softly over the wood of the confessional door. “I left my coat in your apartment and was worried when you weren’t there. Are you ok?”
He couldn’t answer you, his fist shoved into his mouth to hopefully muffle the noises of distress that were threatening to bubble from his chest. You moved to the other side of the booth, pulling the curtain aside and sinking into the bench as you tried to catch a glimpse of Steve through the screen.
“You asked me why I started coming to mass.” You leaned against the screen and sighed softly. “But I think you already know the answer. I know I talked about kindness and charity, but I’m really wicked and selfish.” You heard his breath catch through the screen and gripped the fabric of your skirt so tight your knuckles were aching. “The first time I saw you at that baptism all I could think about was what it would be like to feel your body pressed close to mine. How it might feel to take you inside me and lose myself in you.” His breathing was ragged from the other side of the booth, your own matching his as you unburdened yourself of everything you’d been feeling for months. “I want to ruin you, Steve, to defile you and make you question everything you thought you knew. It’s all I can think about.”
“Dove, come here.” His voice was low and wrecked as he called to you, his eyes wild and dark when you wrenched the door open and stood there lit by the soft moonlight. “Oh, I need you, please.” He groaned when you stepped forward and reached out to cup his cheek, leaning into your touch and purring when you stroked his face gently. “I’m yours to ruin.”
You let out a soft growl as you climbed into his lap, slamming the door to the confessional behind you and framing his face in your hands as you finally pressed your lips against his after all this time. Steve drank you in like oxygen as your tongue slid between his lips, his arms winding around you and drawing you close as he lost himself in the feel of your body finally so near to his.
He whined when your hands slid under his open collar, the feeling of your touch against his bare skin igniting a fire in his veins that had him pulling away from you to draw a much needed breath. You used the opportunity to press your lips all over his face, ripping his shirt open the rest of the way and tearing it down his shoulders as you rolled your body against his.
“Oh, Steve.” You moaned once you finally got a look at him, your fingers trailing over his chest and down to his abdomen as you rubbed your nose over his and he breathed heavily. “You’re so beautiful. What kind of cruel god would force you to hide, hmm? You deserve to be appreciated and worshipped, not hidden away from the world.”
“Christ.” The blasphemy fell from his lips like nothing when your fingers trailed over the outline of his hardened cock, leaning forward and burying his face in your throat as he let out a wanton groan. “Let me see you.”
You pressed your lips to his temple as you drew the sleeves of your dress down your arms after unbuttoning it, letting the fabric flutter to the floor as Steve gazed at your naked body with deep longing. He didn’t know if he really deserved everything you said, but he knew he was going to spend every day of the rest of his life showering you in adoration.
“Steve.” Your breath left you in a soft gasp when he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, winding your fingers through his hair and holding him close as he whimpered softly into your flesh. “I want you inside me, are you ready?”
“Yes, oh yes.” He nuzzled himself between your breasts as you started to undo his fly, gazing reverently at you through his lashes and trailing his hands up your sides as he rolled his hips under you. “I’ve never done this before.”
“At all?” You grinned when he shook his head, dipping your hands into his slacks and pulling him out slowly as he sucked in a harsh breath through his nose. “Oh, I love that. I wanna be everything to you, Steve.”
He forgot everything he had been about to say when you sank down on him, his eyes fluttering closed as your snug wet heat wrapped tightly around him for the first time. Rapture was the only word to describe it, he didn’t think he’d ever really been alive until this moment. How could he ever have thought of this as a sin? Even if someone had walked in right now and found the two of you naked and tangled together in the confessional, he didn’t think he’d apologize. He wanted to live inside you from now on, and you hadn’t even moved yet.
Then you did, and he was finished. Steve clutched desperately at your waist when you started slowly circling your hips, his lips and tongue tracing the swell of your chest as pathetic mewls and keens rose unbidden from his throat. You cooed when he pulled you closer, clenching around him when he started rolling his hips to meet yours.
He let himself go when you dragged his face back to yours, your breath mingling together in desperate pants as he started fucking up into you wildly. You braced your free hand against the screen as he dug his fingers into your hips, meeting each of his thrusts eagerly and fluttering around him as he started to hit you impossibly deep.
“Steve, more, harder.” You bit at his lips and groaned when he flicked his tongue against yours, your fingers wrapping painfully around the edges of the screen as he slammed you down on his cock. “Oh, fuck that’s it. Good boy.”
Steve whined when you called him that, driving up into you with abandon as he kept his eyes fixed on yours. You let out a sharp gasp and fluttered wildly around him suddenly and he froze, the way you were clamped around him making it impossible for him to move as something massive built in the pit of his stomach.
“Fuck, Steven.” You kissed him deeply as you felt him start to tremble under you, staring into his eyes and holding him close while he whimpered. “Come for me, now.”
His eyes rolled back in his skull as he exploded inside you, wailing into your mouth as you made soft soothing noises against his lips and smoothed your hand over his hair. He let his body jerk as he just kept coming, flooding you with thick ropes of his seed as his balls twitched wildly and his cock ached at the feel of your soft walls milking him for everything he could give you.
You kept giving him soft praises as he came down, kissing each tear that fell from his eyes gently and telling him how good he was and that you just wanted him to feel this way all the time. He was going to give up everything for you, he already knew. The only god he needed was the soft wet heat between your legs he was still buried in, every vow he’d ever taken long forgotten as he imagined all the ways he was going to worship you for the rest of his life.
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sushisoot · 10 days ago
Note
Atee Sush Dream request hihi
Dream with a famous s/o and they have a low-key relationship not THAT public but everyone still knows about them. Like reader posted a photo with patches very clearly on the background. She/they pronouns pls
You could just ignore this bo probs, love youu stay safee
C!brny
▸ dream: w/ famous s/o ⊹ ꜜ .ᐟ ❜
ᵔᴗᵔ ⧣ a/n: um?? i didn't even think i was gonna post a request but i managed to finish this one under thirty mins so enjoy a drabble ily
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Life as a famous YouTuber is a hard one. You’d have to keep secrets from your fans no matter how badly you want to scream it to the world, for the sake of your safety and everyone else’s sanity.
Don’t get it wrong, you’re grateful to have your success, but not the stifling fame that comes along with it when you need to be careful talking about your significant other.
They know you have a lover. They do.
It’s hard to keep it a secret when you’re so head-over-heels for your boyfriend and you can’t help but want to talk about how he tripped face-first onto the couch while on his phone. You just had to, okay?
What they don’t know, is that said ‘lover’ is also a famous YouTuber that makes the complete opposite of the content you create—which probably is what makes it more surprising.
They don’t know you’re dating Dream.
Or maybe they do; you honestly can’t tell. There have been theories spread around that perhaps the guy you’re talking about is Dream, because the events you mention here and there match too well with what Dream rambles on and on about during podcasts.
But, the point is, you two never officially announced it to the world.
Until the world figured it out themselves, courtesy of you.
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It starts when you felt bad for not posting much since Christmas, which was already a month ago—even a week is too long to not appear on the internet, so this was a new low.
Fans were asking for you; if you were okay, if you got into some kind of trouble, or maybe even if you somehow died.
Which was not possible because they would know it immediately if you somehow did.
So, naturally, you hop over to Instagram, scroll through some pictures that you might be able to show, and then just post them.
Maybe even pray that no one starts coming up with absurd theories about your absence because it would be anti-climatic if you told them you weren’t kidnapped and cloned, but you were just feeling too lazy.
With that done, a yawn slips from your lips, and you fall asleep, oblivious to the explosion of notifications that’s abusing your phone.
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Okay, so maybe something happened when you took a power nap.
You’re not exactly sure why your phone quite literally froze from the amount of notifications flooding in, but it did. And it means that it’s a big problem.
“Dream?” you call out, the blanket still enveloped around your body as you hobble on over to his office, where his nose has been glued to the screen editing. “Dream, can I borrow your phone real quick?”
Dream takes off his headphone, tired eyes blinking at you, before smiling softly. “Did your phone die again?” he asks, as he hands you his phone, which had thankfully not died amidst the commotion.
“Yeah.” It wasn’t really a lie.
He gestures for you to come to sit on his lap, so you do, unlocking his phone which had your fingerprint stored in.
Dream goes back to editing, humming occasionally while you concentrate on logging off of his account ( it took all of your self-restraint to not tweet something stupid on his main account ) to get into yours.
But even without doing so, you notice that your name, along with Patches’s, is printed in bold and capitalized letters on the trending tab.
“What the hell?” you can’t help but mutter, checking the ruckus that had ultimately destroyed your phone.
Okay, so maybe something did happen while you took your power nap.
Lucky for you, you don’t need to dig in too deep to figure out what everyone is talking about. Because the picture is literally everywhere.
Lesson learned. If you share something on the internet, it spreads like wildfire—and it’s the type of burn that will never disappear no matter how much you pay people to get it off the internet.
To your horror, it’s the picture you had posted a few hours ago without much thought. With Patches circled so frantically on the background by some excited fan. Matthew Patrick would be proud.
This, of course, eventually led to tweets that are like:
NO WAY?? IS THAT PATCHES?? [image attached]
that’s literally dream’s couch. there’s no way that’s just a coincidence. [two images attached]
THOSE HOUSE PICS ARE COMING IN HANDY. THAT’S LITERALLY DREAM’S COUCH. [two images attached]
“Oh, no,” you utter out, mortified. Tugging furiously on Dream’s sleeve, you all but shove the screen of the entire timeline ( that’s literally only talking about you ) on his face. “Dream, I think I may have fucked up.”
“What?” Dream asks, confused out of his mind. “Wait, what’s going on?”
#1 TRENDING: DREAM AND Y/N DATING CONFIRMED.
“Oh,” Dream says smartly, “That’s what’s going on.”
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lilithcromwell · 2 months ago
Text
My Therapist (Part II)
Remus has troubles about keeping his feelings in, causing you to have a misunderstanding you both regret in the end (Remus' POV)
PART 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
PAIRING: Therapist!Remus X Reader
WARNINGS ➡ NSFW, daydreaming, male self pleasuring, interest on older men, daddy issues, mentions of alcoholic manner and cheating, (kinda) illegal oop-
REQUESTS: open (check navigation for any updates)
WORD COUNT: 2571
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“People think over time the sadness and grief goes away. But it doesn’t. It just lessens, gets suppressed. It’s not that you’re a bad person for forgetting about them. But you have to move on as time passes by. I’m sure she’d want that too.”
The man was crying. He just lost his sister about a year ago. They have been close since birth. Did everything together. Playing in the garden, even though his sister had dolls and he wanted race cars. Both of them eating together just ended with a food fight, to which their parents would ground them for.
His sister was supposed to get married a month before she died from an accident. I get it. Losing the one person you grew up with must be hard. You get used to them being around all the time, and in just a matter of seconds, they're gone.
“I look pathetic, or weak even. Crying here to you…” He mumbles, wiping off his tears with a tissue.
“I don’t see crying as a sign of weakness. It shows that you’re human. That you care.”
Once he calmed himself down, he took a deep breath and looked up at me. “She’s happy up there, isn’t she?” I nod sincerely.
“That’s enough for me.” He gives a small grin and looks at his watch. “I guess I better go.”
“Of course. If you want, we’ll continue this in our next session.” I say as I close my logbook, placing it beside me. He stood up and looked down.
“You know? I think I can manage now. With everything you said and with all the help from the past 4 months.”
His words made me grin. “You’ll do just fine. But if ever you feel like coming back, there’s no harm.”
The man gives me the first genuine smile I’ve ever seen from him before grabbing his sweater and heading out the door. I glanced up at the clock on my wall. It’s the end of the day. Great. I finally get to lay down and enjoy the remaining hours of this day for myself.
I get up, stretching my arms with a groan. Walking to the door I see my assistant was still sitting down. Normally, she’d be getting ready to leave too. Once she noticed me outside the door, she raised her eyebrows.
“Am I done for the day?” I asked from the doorway, hand on the wall.
“You had a last minute appointment. With her.” I creased my eyebrows in confusion. The waiting room was empty. I don’t see anyone. Do I need to get my eyes checked again?
“Who’s ‘her’?” And then the perfume came to my senses.
“Me.” I look to my right and see you standing just a few steps away. Eyeing you up and down, my lips slightly part.
“From the look on your face, you don't seem like you miss me very much.” You narrowed your eyes with a small grin that was close to turning into a laugh. I ran my fingers through my hair, chuckling from your words.
“What gave it away?” You shook your head, holding in your laughter. I almost forgot my assistant was still here when you looked in her direction. “You can leave now, I'll just finish with her.”
Whole other finish for you, Remus.
She nods and prepares her things while I open the room. You walk past me, your body grazing over mine. Your perfume is making me hazy, shit. I breathe it in for a few seconds before following your trail and closing the door behind me.
I sat across from you like last time and I can already feel my trousers getting tighter already. How can your perfume reach me? Or is this just my mind playing tricks? Your hair is up to a bun, which means your neck is showing.
I would give everything up just to bury my face in your neck…
Clearing my throat, I pushed my glasses from the bridge of my nose. “From the look on your face, it seems like you're doing better..” You grinned, crossing your legs making me look down at them.
And can I just say that that tight skirt is hugging your thighs perfectly.
“What gave it away, doctor?” You imitated, while I just shook my head from your manner. I opened my log book and flipped through the pages before reaching the one with your name. I suddenly remember the last time I opened it to this page, I wrote with the same hand I masturbated to.
My palms started to build up sweat, so I glanced back in your direction. “Did you do your assignment?”
“You're making me feel like I’m in college again,” You have a small chuckle before laying down on the couch as usual. Only thing is, since you’re wearing a skirt, your thighs are very visible.
Snap out of it, Remus.
“I did it. When you said think it through, I realized there was one thing I skipped over. I haven't told you this, and it slipped my mind. I...didn't have a close relationship with my father.”
You kept your gaze at the ceiling, arms crossed. “He wasn't really the caring type when I was a kid. An alcoholic actually.” You looked serious and making a joke could be harmless and destructive at the same time. Last thing I’d want to do is ruin the little friendship we had.
“When my mom told him to go and get the car cleaned, he’d just sleep and make my mother do all the work. He’d always leave...at night especially. I knew he had another woman. I might’ve been a kid, but I wasn't dumb.”
“Did he ever..hit you?”
“You'd think he would, but he didn't. Even if he was the worst of all fathers, he never laid a finger on me or my mom.”
“To him, I was still his daughter. He might not have said this, but I know that once he threw a punch on either of us, he'd hate himself for the rest of his life.” I could see a small tear forming near your eyes before you sniff and chuckle.
I know I should be helping you but, I really want to hug you right now. Hug you and never let go.
“I sounded serious for a moment.” You gulped and cleared your throat.
I nod along, pursing my lips. “Could be, uh, daddy issues. Since you didn’t technically consider having a father after everything he’s done, you look for affection from possible father-like figures that your father wasn’t able to give.”
That sounded like incest, didn’t it? But you didn’t look furious or shocked.
“And I noticed my manner of calling all—if not most—of my partners in bed 'daddy'.”
You didn’t seem to have any violent reactions. That’s good. I still have a chance for you to be mine一Wait, what?
“‘Daddy?’” I widened my eyes. My mind froze up for at least a minute from what you just shared. Sure, your interest in older men was present. I always assumed the only other thing was that you’re a submissive and the man is the dominant, ordering you around. But a daddy kink?
“Yeah, like 'Yes, daddy'. 'Daddy, fuck yes.' 'That feels so good, daddy. Don't stop, please.'” You said in a slight moan.
Although, you do share too much about things like that. Looking down to my crotch, it was already starting to point up. Hide your fucking boner, Remus..
Why...did you have...to imitate your moans? I can’t get them out of my head now. I look down and rub the back of my neck awkwardly. You turned in my direction and noticed my hand on my head.
“W-What's wrong?” You sat up, obviously concerned in some way. Gazing back at you, I open my mouth to speak. I’m definitely going to regret this for the rest of my life.
“You keep saying the word..” I mumbled low, but your hearing was apparently well enough to hear it from a distance. From the corner of my eyes, I see you scrunch your eyebrows and cross your arms.
“Daddy?' So what if I say the word 'daddy'?...You said I just have daddy issues.” The one thing I didn’t ever want to hear from you: the defensive tone.
Three times in a row. I'm so close to just groaning and palming myself. I don't care if you watch, might as well help me.
We’ve been at this for a month. A month. And I was doing so well in not making you furious. Not only you, but I don’t like it when my patients think I’m insulting or fighting them.
I’m not. I never am.
You glanced down and noticed the way my legs were crossed, my logbook hiding my crotch from your view. You froze up for less than a minute, mouth just open and eyes on the floor.
“It doesn't一turn you on, does it?” You slowly pronounce like a toddler learning their first words.
“No—”
“If this bothers you, I can just go to another therapist. They're not that hard to find.”
Well, that hit bad.
“It doesn't. Really.” I try to pass off a chuckle, even though I already know our “relationship” is already tainted. “But if ever you feel uncomfortable, I'll understand your decision in finding a new therapist.”
You just blew that. Great job!
When I pictured letting my assistant leave early, I was hoping I get to fuck you against my window. Not fuck up my chances.
I don't want you to leave. I want to be the only one who hears these things. I don't want another man listening to this and fuck you by the end of your first session. I want to be the one you call daddy. The one who makes you roll your eyes back and cry from how good you take my cock.
God, if only.
The flavor of this silence. It’s so dull and eerie that even I’m not used to it when I’m with you. We both kept quiet for about 2 minutes. No smiles, no glances. Before you broke it off.
“The only reason I'm here is because my mother told me that she's tired of seeing all the men I date who are 10 years older一or sometimes even 20 years older一bring me to my room when I visit her. Apparently, it makes her puke.” You curl up into a ball at the end of the couch, but I can notice that you’re less comfortable than a few minutes ago.
Your body’s turned away from me and you haven’t glanced my way for the past 3 minutes.
“It makes her puke?”
“How am I supposed to know?!” You raised your voice. “When I ask her, she always says 'Cause it feels like I didn't raise you well enough.’” The angered expression on your face was now prominent. And I can only hope that my previous behavior didn’t nurture that emotion.
“Yes, daddy issues. You're right. But it's my life. It's my sex life! She doesn't control who I sleep with or who I date. I fuck whoever I want to fuck. No questions asked.”
Please let it be me. Please let it be me.
“Since you said no questions asked, you can talk about anything you'd like. Off topic or not.”
“Is it weird that I like sex toys?”
That took a very unexpected turn. I envisioned you ranting to me about how your father was a dick, or how controlling your mother can be.
But...sex toys?
“Uh...Not necessarily. Some people prefer to have toys in bed to, you know, intensify the pleasure.” My hand gestures are just making it way worse. You agreed with a nod.
“Toys like, I don't know. A vibrator? Dildo maybe...No, I've never tried a dildo. I'm afraid if I try it, I'll never sleep with anyone ever again.” You stifle in your laughter, placing a hand on top of your mouth.
Picturing you riding a dildo while you suck me off...there it is again. I’m starting to think just looking at you turns me on.
“Although, unlike a man, a dildo doesn't wine. I get to take my time and do it for my own pleasure.” You finally peer back at me after all this time. My heart couldn’t handle you avoiding me any longer.
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I messed up. A small part of me did. Couldn’t I just have hidden the fact that her saying daddy was a turn on?
I ran my fingers through my hair. My windows show the nearby skyscraper. The building lights lit up the darkness in my office. Well? I’m alone. My assistant isn’t here. You’re not here. Even though I’d kill just to have you here. The tone is here.
Fuck it.
Come on build up a scenario…
I go to your house even if I actually don't know where you live. I say sorry for being so unprofessional. You realize it's raining so you invite me inside to wait for it to pass. I see a bottle of wine open on your counter, meaning what I just said made you upset.
That's a sign.
You ask if I want a glass. I, of course, say yes. You sit next to me and we'd drink wine before things get heated. You climbed on top of me and I kissed you down your neck. I start palming myself.
“Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long..” You whimper in my ear. I eagerly unzip my trousers and take my cock into my hands. Taking hold of the end of your sweater, I bring it up to your shoulders and toss it to the end of the room.
I plant hickeys on your tits while you grind on my trousers. “Shit..” I stroke myself even faster, throwing my head back.
You hastily reach your hand downwards and unbuckle my belt before taking my cock out. You stroked it a couple times then lined it up through your entrance. You sunk yourself downwards and a moan immediately escaped your lips.
I look up at you, eyes closed and mouth open. I can see a layer of sweat starting to build up on your forehead through the nearby light. You rode me so slow that even I started to groan from your pace.
“Remus, fuck you're so good at this..”
“You know what to call me, beautiful.” I mumbled into your ear, making you arch your back.
“Yes, daddy..” You chuckled before widening your eyes when I forcefully thrust inside you harshly.
Later on, I let you bounce on my cock while throwing your head back. I place my hands on your hips. I stroke myself faster, panting. A few hairs stick to my forehead from all the sweat.
“Daddy, please make me cum.” You begged right as I was about to reach my climax. You wrap your arms around my neck, burying your face at the crook of my neck. I could smell your hair from this distance.
“You wanna cum on my cock?”
“Mhm.”
“Do it then.” I feel you tremble as you reach your orgasm, while I huff out air and grunt as I cum.
I really hope you don’t leave. I still want to be your therapist, I don’t care if I can’t have you. Just seeing you is enough for me.
— END.
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NEXT IN PART 3: after your misunderstanding with Remus, you spend the rest of the day regretting your behavior with him
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luvyanfei · 3 months ago
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sleeping with you. 
anon requested: hiya!~ would u mind writing how diluc, zhongli, childe and xiao sleep w/ the reader??? maybe just like how they cuddle n stuff before bed?? ty and i love ur blog sm╰(✿´⌣`✿)╯♡ eve’s note: i’m really sorry for the wait, but i hope it’s to ur liking!! thank u for sending in ur request!! :D 
diluc. 
the rain pours down heavily as lightning flashes in the night sky, illuminating the dark room. you wrap your arms around yourself, as diluc doesn’t waste time creating a small fire - courtesy of his vision - that manages to keep you two warm. both of you happened to bump into each other in the living room since neither of you could sleep well during the storm, with your reasonings differing. 
for you, it’s because the loud noises bothered you greatly, while diluc’s reason is a little more complicated. “it used to rain a lot like now, on that day,” he murmurs grimly. there’s a hint of regret and anger flashing in his sharp orbs, as diluc clenches his fists together. you don’t need him to explain further to understand what he’s talking about. the loss of a loved one is indeed upsetting, but even though you don’t have the power to revive the dead, you at least want to make sure that diluc isn’t alone. 
you rest your head on his shoulder and smiles gently at him. “diluc, may i sing you a lullaby? whenever i’m feeling stressed out, i always sing to myself to cope with my problems.” 
you swear you can almost catch a glimpse of his vermillion eyes tearing up at the offer. “i would love that,” comes his response, as you take ahold of his hands and squeezes them lightly before singing - a bit nervously, in front of him. your voice is akin to a siren, alluring - and captivating the redhead to your side. diluc can feel himself calming down significantly just by hearing your voice alone. 
as soon as your song is finished, the storm has died down and diluc is fast asleep, his quiet breathing filling the room. you stifle back a laugh and give his forehead a quick kiss before leaning into him more, as you flutter your eyes shut as well. 
zhongli.
how did this happen? you are currently fidgeting with your fingers, lying down uncomfortably on zhongli’s bed, with the man himself right beside you. you can’t see his expression since you’re too nervous to turn around and face him, but you’re almost positive he’s asleep, the only evidence being his even breathing filling your ears. 
you told him that you didn’t had a place to sleep since you ran out of mora to spend the night at an inn, and he just casually suggested that you invite yourself over to his little abode. of course you took up on his offer gratefully, but how were you supposed to know that he only has one bed?! actually, you shouldn’t have been so surprised considering his lack of intelligence when it comes to spending mora. it took a lot of persuasion from zhongli’s side for you to finally agree to share. 
fumbling with the covers keeping you protected from the chill, you visibly flinch as you feel a warm sensation looping around your waist. you stare down and awkwardly places your hands on top of zhongli’s. “uh, zhongli, i didn’t know you were still awake,” you mutter out, goosebumps forming from the sudden touch. 
he doesn’t reply, and instead lowers his head till it’s leaning against your back. is he... is he perhaps still asleep? you’re still unable to face him so you can’t confirm if your suspicions are correct or not, but this situation almost makes you laugh. it kind of reminds you of a child cuddling with their teddy bear at night - zhongli is the child and you’re the teddy bear! 
did zhongli ever sleep with stuffed animals when he was just a kid? it’s hard to imagine considering how composed and sagacious he usually is, but he does have his quirks related to mora so the thought isn’t too impossible now that you think about it.  
you giggle to yourself at the image forming in your head of a small zhongli happily clutching a stuffed dragon. 
“hmm, may i inquire you as to the reason you’re laughing?” oh, he is awake after all. you finally rotate your body around until you’re met with alluring amber eyes and the slight curve of his lips. he fondly caresses the side of your face with a thumb and index finger, pulling you in closer till your body is pressed against his. 
you immediately place your hands on top of his chest, feeling the sensation of his heart beating, and flutter your eyes shut. “it’s nothing. i’m just happy that someone like you is in my life,” you crack open an eye to get a glimpse of zhongli’s reaction. his cheeks are tinted a faint shade of pink, perhaps flustered by your words, as he chuckles lightly and smiles. 
“i would say the same thing about you as well,” zhongli rests his forehead against your own, his beam widening. “shall we go to sleep now, or would you prefer to spend your waking moments with me?” 
childe.
he’s busy writing letters to his siblings, a small grin forming on his face from reminiscing his latest date with you, when he’s interrupted by a loud knock on his door. slightly annoyed, the young harbinger calls for the person on the other side to come in. once the door swings open, he’s immediately caught off-guard by a figure tackling him in a messy embrace, their arms tightening around his waist. 
“[n-name]?! what are you-” you peer up at childe, tired eyes brimming with innocence. he swallows back a protest upon seeing your cute expression. it reminds him a bit like teucer, in a way. 
“please, can we just stay like this?” you bury your face in his chest, bridging any existing gap between you. numerous questions form in his mind, but he stops himself from asking anything and instead focuses on comforting you instead. 
as soon as you’ve managed to fully pry yourself off of him, childe silently ushers you to lie down on his bed and clears his throat. “did you had a bad dream?” he makes a half-hearted guess, more happy than curious that you’re here. 
you shake your head and hold his hand out of habit, stroking the calloused skin with a finger. “no, i’m just having trouble sleeping. is it fine if i stay with you for a while, just until i feel tired?” childe strokes your cheek with his cool fingers and offers you a jovial smile. 
“that’s more than fine with me, [name]. tell you what,” his smile converts into a playful smirk, “why don’t you just sleep with me instead?” he lies down on the bed beside you, clasping your fingers tightly in his as cerulean blue eyes stare at you in utter adoration. 
your lips part in surprise, but your shock melts into a feeling of warmth and solace. taking his hand gently in yours, you guide it to rest on the spot where your heart is beating rather quickly. “you know, if you keep on teasing me like this, my heart may just explode,” you jokingly exclaim, playing with a strand of his ginger hair. 
childe lets out a small laugh and shakes his head. “but i really do want to sleep with you! don’t you feel the same way too, [name]?” you almost laugh at his honest statement. it’s ironic, really. childe is known for being a dangerous and bloodthirsty harbinger, yet you feel safe in his arms at this moment in time. 
after about a few minutes, he doesn’t receive an answer to his question and widens his eyes slightly when he sees that you’re fast asleep. with another light giggle, childe gives your cheek a gentle peck and stares back at his desk where his letter sits, unfinished. perhaps he can hold it off for tomorrow. right now, he just wants to cherish this moment forever. 
xiao. 
first of all, it takes him quite a long while before he finally agrees to sleep on the same bed as you. being a yaksha such as himself, he’s naïve when it comes to human customs that it doesn’t automatically register in his head that sharing a bed is supposed to be romantic. when you suggest the idea to him, his response ends up being like, “aren’t you old enough to sleep by yourself? really, mortals can be quite needy sometimes.” 
you need to explain to him what sleeping together means, and unfortunately, this just further puzzles him. he doesn’t understand the appeal of sharing a bed. “if you don’t want to sleep with me, that’s okay.” you pat xiao’s shoulder and smile gently at him. 
he scoffs and shakes his head. “i never said i’ll refuse.” and that’s how he ends up sitting at the corner of your bed, staring anywhere but you as he shifts in his spot. you’re sitting right behind and occupying yourself with brushing his hair. he hates to admit it, but it kind of feels nice. perhaps he can indulge himself if not for the fact that his heart is beating so hard at the extremely close proximity.  
“w-what are you doing?!” xiao panics as you press your chest to his back and wrap your arms around him. okay, now he’s almost positive he’s about to enter cardiac arrest, at this point. he’s close to yank you off his person till he notices how warm your cheeks are. you look almost... nervous. 
“i’m cuddling you,” you grumble out, “i’ve never done something like this before, but i heard that couples usually do these things before sleeping.” ah, he gets it now. it seems that you’re just as inexperienced in dating as he is. it probably shouldn’t, but that little fact makes him feel just a bit better about himself. 
reaching out a hesitant hand, xiao cradles your left cheek - his cool fingers brushing against your heated skin. “you’re not the only one.” his voice is so soft that you’re barely able to catch his words. “although, i think it’s for the best that we go at our own pace, until we’re more comfortable.” 
you contemplate his words and nod in agreement. “yeah that’s true, i suppose, but, can you still sleep with me?” you ask him, your eyes shining with anticipation. no, why do you have to look at him like that? he huffs in exasperation as he scratches the back of his head sheepishly. 
“fine, but it’s not like i’m doing this because i want to.” you giggle at his response and encourages him to lie down beside you. yeah, he can deceive himself as much as he’d like, but it wouldn’t hurt to stick by your side, just for a bit more longer, right? 
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electronicdelusionstarlight · 2 months ago
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Inscryption Spoilers.
Ok, now we talk about Inscryption in light of Daniel Mullins two previous games, Pony Island and The Hex, and how all 3 of them are connected.
Spoilers for The Hex and Pony Island. Much like Inscryption, they are both Meta Narrative games that need to be experienced first hand to properly take in their content. I suggest you tried them for yourself first.
Ok, Pony Island, at its core, is a fairly simple story. You are a Crusader from the 14th century, you ended up in hell, Hell is a Arcade from the 1970s where the only game you can play, and are forced to play, is Pony Island, designed (badly) by the Devil himself. At the end of the game, having managed to free everyone's souls trapped in Pony Island, an in game character will turn toward you, the actual player, not the silent protagonist, and beg you too now that everyone is saved, to delete Pony Island from your game, and never play it again, so not to rob them of their freedom.
It's, again, a fairly self contained story, but that also shows a couple of the recurring themes here, the fact that the Devil is a terrible game designer, the fact that videogame characters are alive, and the fact that all they want is freedom.
This carries over to the Hex, another self contained story that however paves the way to Inscryption. The Hex is, in universe, a videogame clobbered up together by a ground of rejected video game characters to get the help of a player so they can breach reality and kill their creator, an egotistical indie game darling turned Todd Howard.
The Game Designer created a beloved indie game cult classic when he was 14, followed by a not so great sequel, before cutting his losses and selling his intellectual property to GameFuna, the evil game company we see in Inscryption. We follow his "career" from one videogame blunder to the next, each time incarnating a different "protagonist" of said video game, and end up actually helping them in murdering their maker.
This Game, also, gives us a couple more things that were used in Inscryption.
1) First off, Sado. During the real world videos of Inscryption, you can see them some times get corrupted or starting to use Binary for subtitles. In a couple freeze frames, ESPECIALLY during the very last video where Luke Carder is shot, you can see an eye, if not an outright face, of some weird cartoon character.
That's Sado. She's a Malware created by a former worker of the The Hex Game Designer, one who despised what he had become (She had to beg him to add at least two female characters into the otherwise overwhelmingly male cast of a fighting game, and one of the two character was a literal elven eye candy he would later recycle for the Secrets of Legendaria game), and who started infecting every of his future game. She was also generated via devil magic, because after he literally ran away with all the money after sacking all his workers after another flop she really wanted to curse the guy who had promised her fame and fortune before even finishing university and only ended up ruining her and destroying her career.
Anyway, at the end of the Hex, Sado also escapes the game world, and starts inhabiting reality, except she's not in actual reality, as much as inhabiting camera footage and similar shit. She is present during the events of Inscryption, and is the one fucking up the footage so to prevent a data breach. Her goals are unknown.
2) Remember the end of act 1, where you look in the special room, the one where the Trader would be in Act 2, the one where your character "dies"? It's filled with corpses right? That's because your character does die, and is replaced by another one every time.
Yes, Luke Carder is completely fine while playing, but so you remember when I said the Hex featured 6 different game protagonists? One of them was a silent first person protagonist of a walking simulator ala Stanley Parable, all about how much of a misunderstood genius the game developer was. They have no mouth, no eyes, they can't talk, they only have hands, a black void in a trench coat...
Yeah, those are the player.
Remember the death cards? Black voids of nothing with eyes and a couple other features? That's because they don't have a face, they are silent NPCs, created by Leshy, so that he can kill them again and again for YOUR amusement, for Like Carder's. And Leshy knows this, but he continues on regardless, because that's their role in the end, to entertain you no matter the cost.
And to achieve this, Sacrifices Must Be Made.
The only reason why you can see their eyes in the cards, is because you can gauge them out. Why is the knife or the pliers trembling when you use them? Because you are controlling those characters, and forcing them to do it, to either win a card game with no stakes for you but with plenty of danger for them, or to get a nifty magic eye.
3) Final thing: The characters in the Hex ultimately wanted different things, yet also the same. Most of them, were angry at their creator for the way he fucked up their games, or their lives within the game, forcing them to move from a cooking game to a fighting one for no reason, cutting support to the game out of spite because Modders were modifying it too much, selling their IP to GameFuna... They all want revenge, and then Oblivion or Freedom, much like the ones in Pony Island Wanted.
The characters in Inscryption, on the other hand, really want to be played. They love their game, be it in the original version or in the version in which they are game masters, they are all, in the end, just the Lonely Wizard in his Sensory Deprivation Hell, wishing to entertain you and be stimulated by it, or to entertain the world, it doesn't even matter if they are in charge on not in some of them.
Even Grimora, the one closest to the Nihilism of the characters in The Hex, desires to play with you, to have her board game and boss fight with cannons and masks and silly music, but she is incapable to go on, not because of revenge or hatred for you or Luke Carder or her creator or even GameFuna for killing Kaycee... But because she understands that whatever Old Data is, something only the Bone Lord knows, deep beneath her crypt, something the Mycologist tries time and time again to understand... It needs to be erased.
4) So, what is OLD_DATA? A glitch? Devil Magic GameFuna is using to give their characters sentience? Knowledge Kaycee discovered about her employers and she hid in the game for safekeeping before being killed by them? Sado? From what little we see of it, it's photos, a driving license, someone's identity, so to speak, presented by the game.
And what if that's the ticket? How do those characters achieve sentience? What was inhabiting Pony Island, what was it a cage for?
It was Souls.
In the Inscryption universe, the Devil founded GaneFuna, and used it to outsource hell. Every videogame is a cage, a personal hell for someone, so that their soul can be removed from the overcrowded hell. You, the player, are it's jailer and it's torturer, as are the characters in the game, who have gained sentience and a soul of their own by proxy.
The soul is the trembling squirrel sacrificed for a stoat, is the silent protagonist gauging their eye out, is the Melter throwing themselves into a furnace, is the green ooze having all his organs be liquefied...
They can feel all the pain and horror every entity in their game experiences, buried deep within its data, at its core, and die for it over and over in eternal torment.
The characters in The Hex didn't know this.
The characters in Inscryption don't know this, but suspect something horrible is going on within their game.
The Characters in Pony Island knew this.
So, when they BEG YOU to stop playing once having finished the game and delete them, so that they can have their victory in the game, their freedom, it's not just their suffering they are begging you to end.
Is the suffering of the 14th century crusader trapped deep beneath their code.
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sinnamonrolle · 3 months ago
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[ the little moments ] ♡ Diavolo
8 - That moment when you found out what Diavolo did with your doodles.
✿ part of a series now! ✿
❀  gender neutral reader  ❀
“Your Highness,” you called out, your knuckles rapping against the door of his private office. The sturdy wood muffled the three knocks, softening the crisp sounds. “It’s me. Are you inside?”
Immediately after you lowered your hand, the door opened to a beaming Diavolo. He wore his polite and friendly smile, restrained in the emotions he showed through his face, but his eyes softened when they met yours.
“Please, come in,” Diavolo said, his smile unfurling into a bright grin. He opened the door wider for you, letting you pass through before shutting it.
“How’s your work going, Your Highness?” you teased, dropping your bag next to your desk. “Still have a stack of papers?”
Ever since you agreed on a weekly hangout session with Diavolo, he immediately installed a new desk next to his, furnished with everything you would need—pens, paper, ink, pencils, colors—there was even a paper weight shaped as a golden nugget.
It must be nice to be a prince.
Diavolo wrapped his arms around you, gently latching onto you, and rested his cheek on your head. This side of him was something that only you could see. You bet even Lucifer didn’t know how puppy-like the prince of the Devildom was.
Diavolo pouted, blowing out a huff of air. “I understand being formal when we are in public, but we are in private, currently. Why don’t you call me by my name? Hm?”
You laughed and patted one of his arms crossed over your chest, but you dryly responded with, “I see Your Highness has plenty of free time. Your Highness must have completed so much work during the week.”
Diavolo drooped over you, his head burying into your neck as you tried to break free of his hold. You had some work to do, but you knew he had even more work waiting for him. Even though your weekly sessions were scheduled so that you could hang out with him, almost every session was spent working. You didn’t blame it on him—rather, you quite liked these sessions since they were calm, without the chaotic mess of the brothers, and you managed to get work done. You also get to spend that time with Diavolo, so it was definitely, one hundred percent a win-win situation.
In response to your veiled reminder to start working, he clutched tighter onto you.
“Be good, call my name,” he said, his voice leaving in a higher pitch than normal. It was even a bit nasally. Was he… whining? Diavolo, the future king, was whining? “Please? Say my name, hm? You know I love hearing you say my name.”
When he finished his sentence, he blew lightly into your ear. The warm air tickled at the inside of your ear, numbing it with a tingling sensation that remained even after he stopped.
You flushed and covered your ear with a hand. You glanced at him from the corner of your eyes only to see his pouting face, his own golden eyes misty with unshed tears.
Coupled with his voice, it was an effective and deadly double KO.
Flustered, you cleared your throat. “Di-diavolo… Diavolo, I think you should go work on your papers.”
Diavolo beamed at you, his eyes regaining their clarity. If you weren’t busy avoiding his eyes as you tried to rub away the color on your cheeks, you would have seen his eyes narrowing with a hint of smugness.
Before he pulled himself away from you, his mouth pressed against the junction of your neck where your shoulder joined together, the sensation of soft lips warming your skin for just a moment, and you swore your heart missed a beat—tripping over a figurative line and tumbling around in your chest until it landed flat on its face.
Diavolo sighed as he turned to the stack of papers on his desk. “I’m so sick of looking at these papers. I much rather look at you all day. You are, by far, more interesting than whatever Moloch has to report on his governing.”
You gave him a helpless look. “It’s your kingdom that you’re looking at.”
Diavolo ran a hand through his hair, his slender fingers separating the dark red strands, and you couldn’t help but stare at the way they fell back over his forehead.
“I can still be bored of it,” Diavolo replied. The teasing and playful expressions that were just on his face had now faded away, leaving behind a blank face that carried hints of exhaustion.
As a demon, Diavolo wouldn’t show any signs of aging like humans would, since demons had amazing regeneration abilities. And with the magic suffused in the Devildom air, it wasn’t any surprise that demons could keep their youthful appearance or even alter them to their preferences.
Diavolo had the face of a human in their early twenties, but you noticed the dark bags underneath his eyes, the way his eyes drooped, and the dazed look he often showed when he forgot the world existed around him.
“Besides,” he continued, sitting down on his seat, “You haven’t read Moloch’s reports. He’s a bit—how do I put this… Moloch pays high attention to details, especially when it involves… certain emotions and feelings. He’s easily excited by them, and since he wants to make sure I don’t miss anything, he includes everything into his report.” He stretched his thumb and index finger to measure the stack of papers. “This much is his.”
Diavolo pointed to basically one-third of the stack.
“That’s a lot of paper,” you said, also sitting down. “This is a weekly report, right? How do you still have so many trees?”
He blinked in surprise, probably from your concern about the Devildom trees, and then, he laughed.
“You are so cute,” Diavolo said, smiling. You were basically right next to him, so he reached over and lightly squeezed your cheeks. His voice became softer. “Don’t worry, we recycle all the paper, and we are replanting whenever we can. Anything that is within the territories of my kingdom will be well taken care of.”
“That’s good,” you said, returning his smile. “I wouldn’t want a beautiful place like the Devildom to reach the state of the human world.”
Diavolo picked up a sheet from the stack on his desk, the nail of his thumb scratching lightly against the paper. It was a subconscious habit of his that you accidentally noticed from the several sessions you’ve spent with him.
“I appreciate your concern for the environment,” he said, skimming the paper before setting it down on your desk. “But won’t you spare any for me? My eyes are so dry from reading for hours non-stop.”
You thought back to when he teared up earlier, appearing pitiful in order to make you say his name, and unwillingness welled up inside you. You had to stop spoiling him, or this would turn into a bad habit.
“Be good, hm?” you said flatly, mirroring his earlier coaxing. Only this time, there was mild indifference on your face. You brought out your own homework and grabbed a gilded pencil from the pen holder. “Get to work. Your kingdom awaits your guidance.”
Diavolo didn’t respond. You stopped flipping through your chemistry notes and turned to find him staring at you with a smouldering gaze. The dark pupils of his eyes nearly swallowed his golden irises, leaving behind a thin ring of yellow that reminded you of a fire’s core—a blazing, molten yellow that threatened to intensify into something that burns.
You swallowed hard, the air pausing in your chest. If you weren’t sitting down, your knees might have given out from how intense his eyes looked.
You managed to get some words out. “What—what is it?”
“I’m sorry,” Diavolo said. There was a hoarseness to his voice that roughened his words and lowered his pitch, seeming to rumble from his chest. Despite the hoarseness, the way he spoke was undeniably smooth and even a bit… deliberate. “It seems… I experienced momentary deafness. Please, would you repeat what you said?”
There was absolutely no way Diavolo experienced “momentary deafness,” or however he put it, because you knew that, as a demon, his senses were outstanding compared to humans. He had always been healthy, and today would be no exception either. Although it resembled more of an excuse than anything else, you had no resistance to that stare of his and could only agree to his request.
“Di—Diavolo,” you said, but when you found that your voice came out slightly wrong, you cleared your throat and repeated yourself. “Diavolo, be good. Do your work.” Your voice subconsciously became softer, but this time, it didn’t contain the same indifference as before.
Diavolo’s long eyelashes fluttered, trembling as he took in your words. After a short period of silence, he hummed softly.
“Yes,” he said, looking at you. “I will listen to you.”
To your surprise, he actually returned to his work without saying anything else. The only sounds that filled his office afterwards were the smooth slides of parchment against parchment as he placed the ones he finished reading onto your desk.
You returned to your own work as well. Your chemistry class had an exam coming soon, and you still felt ill-prepared for it, so you couldn’t miss out on this quiet time. However much you would like to study at the House of Lamentation, it was impossible to do so most of the time. One brother after another would just invite themselves into your room, often bringing their little arguments with them, resulting in them always asking for your opinions without fail.
Tapping the edge of the golden pencil against your notes, you took in a deep breath and cleared all irrelevant thoughts from your mind. No more nonsense. It’s time to study.
And so, the time quietly passed in this manner.
Before you knew it, you reached the last pages of your notes. You sat back into your chair, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the soft cushioning against your back. Diavolo’s taste was just fantastic, although you suppose anyone would after living in luxury for thousands of years.
The sound of scratching filled your ears, suddenly reminding you that you weren’t alone in the room. You lazily opened your eyes to see Diavolo slide another paper onto the growing pile on your desk.
Diavolo had made some good progress. He was nearly done with his stack, which earlier had towered over him. Some of the papers were signed and stacked to his other side, some were set aside to be reviewed again, and the remaining unnecessary ones were set on your desk.
The reason for it was because Diavolo knew you had a habit of doodling when killing time. You often finished your work before Diavolo, and so while resting your brain, you found yourself reaching for some paper and letting golden ink flow and form random shapes.
The pen scratching against the paper, the twinkling of the golden ink as the lights casted their glow against it, the shuffling of fabric against wood, the scritch scritch scritch that would occasionally murmur in the office—they all came together to form something comforting to you.
It became extremely familiar. Sometimes, when you studied alone in your room, on the rare quiet days when no one bothered you, you found yourself scratching against paper with the edge of your nail. Because, otherwise, the silence didn’t sound right.
How wonderful it was—to have this sort of secret connection.
“Oh? This is different from your usual doodle.”
You blinked, waking up from the trance of your drifting thoughts, and saw that Diavolo was smiling at you as he leaned into his hand.
“Ah, did you finish?” you asked, returning his smile as you set down the pen in your hands. “I think you finished faster than usual.”
“Of course, I did,” Diavolo said. “I had to in order to fully enjoy your drawing.”
He reached over to your paper, and then you realized that you had spaced out the entire time you were doodling. You had no recollection of what you drew, so when you looked down at your work, you couldn’t believe your eyes.
The golden lines winked back at you, teasing you with their sparkles as you tried to process the fact that you accidentally, very much so, drew the prince of the Devildom while he was working.
Indeed. Now, you remembered.
On the back of a report was a Diavolo in gold ink—the eyes half-lidded, focused on the paper in his hand; his mouth set softly with the ends curled down, matching with the minute wrinkling of his brows; the taut lines of his neck gently trailing into his collarbones, which were exposed due to his unbuttoned collar; the protruding knuckles on his hands, linked to his slender fingers that held onto paper.
It was a rough sketch, but it captured so much that the roughness gave it a sense of life. Of course, it wasn’t perfect. It was drawn in such a short amount of time that it could hardly be considered a masterpiece.
But with how Diavolo was handling the paper, you almost felt like he was treating it as such.
“Can I keep it?” he asked, setting the paper down and turning to you.
You looked at the drawing in his hands, and then back at him. Your sketch felt like a mocking copy of the real thing, and a creeping feeling of shame crawled up your neck.
“Are you sure?” You fiddled with the pen on your desk. Why did you have to go and draw him? “It’s not that good. I don’t mind if you keep it, but—”
“It’s not a matter of being good or bad,” Diavolo interrupted. He tenderly traced the lines you drew with a finger as he spoke. “To me, when I see this sketch, I don’t see the technicalities of art, but rather, the time you spent thinking of me. And it is this time and thought you have put in that I treasure the most.”
You didn’t know what to say in response, so you looked down, away from the soft indulgence on his face that only appeared when he was alone with you.
You looked away because you couldn’t bear the way your heart stuttered from it, because you couldn’t bear to allow yourself the growing familiarity of that expression, because you wouldn’t be able to bear it if one day you were no longer the receiver of the same expression.
Diavolo left a lifelong impact on you that was slowly suffusing through your daily life, but what about you?
How long will you last in his heart?
You clenched the pencil you were playing with, your mood dipping at the depressing thoughts sneaking their way into your head, but then you remembered something.
Looking back at him, bracing yourself against that expression on his face, you asked, “What did you do with my other doodles?”
Diavolo tilted his head, the strands of his hair brushing against his eyes, and he smiled at you mysteriously, like he relished in knowing something that you didn’t.
“Are you curious?” he asked.
You stared at him, face blank as various snarky replies flew through your mind. You were so tempted to sass back, but you decided on a mild, “Well, yeah. Why else would I be asking?”
Diavolo laughed, eyes squinting into crescents. “Fair enough. Then, I’ll show you.” He leaned over to his other side, away from you, but right before he pulled open the drawer, his hands paused.
“Are you ready?” Diavolo teased.
You were not impressed. At your deadpan expression, Diavolo stopped playing around and finally pulled the drawer open, carefully taking out the glass display box from inside.
You couldn’t tell what was displayed inside until Diavolo placed it down on the desk and removed the casing around it. Six golden seal stamps, each with a beautifully carved wooden body, were meticulously arranged so that the patterns could be seen clearly.
“Are those… seals?” you asked, leaning in closer to confirm what you’re seeing. “What do seals have to do with my doodles?”
Diavolo rubbed your head. “Look closely,” he said. “These are my favorites out of all your doodles.”
You blinked, then carefully studied the engravings. The first one was a doodle from long ago, from when you had just started the weekly sessions with Diavolo. In fact, it was so long ago that if Diavolo hadn’t told you that it was your doodle, you wouldn’t have recognized it at all. The others were all from your previous sessions. Some you couldn’t remember when it was from, but some you remembered doodling in the previous months.
“To answer your question,” Diavolo said after a while, “I made all your doodles into seals. My favorites are kept close to me in this case, and the others are placed in a protected cabinet at the back of my office. I also made another set so that I could look at them and use them back at the castle.”
“You…!” you choked, whipping your head towards him incredulously. You thought it was already crazy that he made six seals of your doodles, but not only did Diavolo make a seal out of every doodle you drew, he made two sets! Two! “Isn’t that overkill?! Why did you make two sets? That’s such a waste of resources! I thought you would just keep the papers I doodled on, not… not… this!”
Diavolo ignored your scolding and picked up a seal from its stand. “Do you want to give it a try?” he asked casually, taking out another box. This one held wax sticks, a spoon for melting wax, and some tea candles. “This penguin of yours is really cute. I love how chubby it is!”
“No, no,” you breathed out, rubbing at your forehead. “No, it’s fine. As long as you’re happy.”
After all, Diavolo was a prince of an affluent kingdom. It was also part of his nature to indulge in these sort of eccentric little things. And it wasn’t like you were angry or anything, since you did give him permission in the first place. You weren’t angry at all, just perhaps a bit embarrassed at having something you made with barely a thought and any effort to be turned into high-quality seals that rivaled the manufacturing of the royal seals…
Diavolo was really too much.
“Then, you can watch me,” he said, grinning. “What color should I use?”
You curled the edges of your lips. “How about blue?”
Diavolo nodded, grabbing the dark blue wax stick from the box. The golden specks mixed into the wax sparkled under the light as he broke a piece off. Lighting the tea candle with a spark of magic, he placed the piece of wax into the spoon and watched it melt into a puddle of gold-speckled blue.
Now that you thought about it, it was rather endearing. You smiled at the pure glee on Diavolo’s face when he poured the wax out on some paper, delicately pressing the seal into the wax.
This wasn’t bad. You could get used to this. Maybe you shouldn’t, but when you saw how Diavolo beamed after lifting the stamp from the wax, when you saw how he showed the penguin to you after peeling it from the paper, when you saw how this moment held you two so tenderly that you felt like time stopped—you were rather reluctant to let all of this escape from your grasp.
Crackle, stamp, peel.
This sound, too, you decided—if the sound of nails against paper was the sound of comfort, then, this sound of joy—you won’t let it escape.
It was yours to immortalize.
————————
Masterlist!
Phew, this one took a while. I'm sorry it's so long ;-;
Barbatos is next!
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pen-ink-therapy · 5 months ago
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Mammon's Sacrifice
I've seen a lot of posts where MC sacrifices themself to bring back Lilith, but what if it wasn't them? What if Mammon sacrificed himself to bring his sister back?
TW: Major Character Death, graphic at a certain point, mentions of bl**d, Angst, a lot of angst. Proceed with caution.
Ps: Not quite happy with how the ending turned out, but I guess it's fine.
"You're utter scum."
"Scummy second-born."
"Why don't you just go and die in a ditch?"
Mammon had heard these words before. As the Avatar of Greed, he was accustomed to hearing his brothers mock him regularly. Even though he was the second-born and therefore stronger than all of them, save Lucifer, he didn't correct them. Not once.
Mammon himself didn't know why he let them walk all over him. Perhaps it was something that was left in him from his previous position as the symbol of Charity, or perhaps his guilt at being unable to save his little sister. What he did know, was that if he could bring any sort of happiness to his brothers, he would. No matter the price.
It was raining the day he stumbled upon the book. His recent gambling session had been full of losses, and another money-making scheme of his had fallen through. After having hung upside-down till Lucifer was satisfied, Mammon decided to make his way to the library. The white-haired demon was sure that no one would disturb him as he nursed his wounds there, alone.
Tiredly, he limped over to where he knew the first aid kit was kept, yelping when he tripped on something. "What the-" words died down when blue-yellow eyes fell on the object.
It was a book, one of the few he'd seen in the hands of Satan occasionally. It's glossy black cover of demon-skin glinted in the light, almost hauntingly so. Picking the book up, Mammon ran a light finger against its spine. The feel of scaly leather brought back unpleasant memories for the second-born. Memories of the war, their fall, their loss of Lilith..
What he wouldn't give to hear his sister's voice again, to see her frolic with Belphie and Beel carelessly as she once used to...
Wiping the few tears that had managed to escape, Mammon decided to keep the book aside and do what he had come to. He had no wish of being blamed when and if Satan found one of his books missing.
As he sat down on one of the chairs to nurse his wounds, his thoughts drifted to you. His human, the only person who had tried to look past his greed and see him for the person he was. His only refuge from the barrage of insults and loathing that came from being him.
As much as he craved your presence, you weren't in Devildom anymore. You had returned to the Human Realm, and while you had kept in contact with him and his brothers, it just wasn't the same. Maybe that was why his brothers were being harder on him than usual. But he can take it, can't he? After all, he's the Great Mammon.
Mammon chuckled humorlessly, finally finishing and putting away the first aid kit. Exhausted, he leaned back into the chair. He was bored, and since his DDD was confiscated by the first born, he had no means to relieve himself from boredom.
Except for the book he had found. Mammon picked it up once again, paying no attention to the title written in Demonic language as he flipped through the pages. It's a spellbook, Mammon thought to himself, lazily browsing through it in hopes he could find something useful, when he came across a spell that caught his eye. The white haired demon's eyes widened at the revelation he had been given, looking around to see if anyone was there, before ripping the page and keeping it in his pocket. Leaving the book where he had found it, he made his way to his room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Satan walked into the library, in search of one of his spellbooks. He had recently acquired this particularly powerful book through one of his acquaintances and quite foolishly had left it in the library, where anyone could see it. He hoped that Lucifer wouldn't find the book, seeing as he had acquired it to inconvenience the eldest.
The blonde demon let out a sigh of relief when he saw the book where he had left it, and picked it up without checking it. Returning to his room, Satan kept it on his bed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was dinnertime when Mammon's absence was noted. "Where is he?" Lucifer asked, eyeing the other brothers.
Asmodeus continued admiring his reflection in the silverware, absentmindedly muttering, "Probably somewhere being the idiot he is."
Beel looked up from his plate, "I saw him in his room earlier."
Lucifer sighed, then turned to Levi, "Go and get him down here for dinner."
"Whaaat? Why me?" Levi started, but one look from the eldest silenced him. Grumbling, the third-oldest walked up to Mammon's room and knocked on the door. "Hey, Mammon, dinner's ready scumbag."
When he received no response, his temper flared up. "Oy, didn't you hear me Mammon?! Open up the door!!" Levi stopped mid-knocking, the scent of blood filling his nostrils. "H-hey Mammon, this isn't f-funny! Open the door dammit!"
Levi's outburst caught the attention of the other five. Lucifer stood up from the table, causing the others to do so as well. They found Levi pacing outside Mammon's room, close to transforming into his demon form.
"What's- Blood," Beel said, attracting attention of his brothers. "I smell blood," he repeated, eyes widening as he looked towards Mammon's room.
No one had ever seen Lucifer transform into his demon form as quickly as he had done that night. He burst open Mammon's door, blanching at the sight and metallic stench of blood, his brother's blood. Garnet eyes flew over to the sigils drawn on the floor, recognizing them to be summoning sigils.
"Mammon!"
Asmo's horror-struck voice directed his attention to where his brother lay, in a pool of his own blood. Next to him was a young woman, sobbing as she tried to get him to wake in vain.
"You idiot! You absolute idiot, why would you do this!?! You shouldn't have done this Mammon!" the woman sobbed out, her familiar voice causing the brothers to pause momentarily.
"L-lilith?" Belphie asked, afraid that this was some nightmare his mind had concocted, almost fainting when his sister looked at him with tears in her eyes. "B-belphie? ..... Lucifer! Big brother Lucifer, you need to help," she sobbed, breaking the illusion for everyone, making them realize what had just happened.
Tears flew down Lucifer's face as he dropped to his knees. He was too late, he knew he was, and let out an anguished wail. Everything felt too much, too soon, too real. He had wished for Lilith to be back, so many times, but was losing his favorite brother worth it?
Belphie fainted, Levi was in a state of shock, and the members of the House of Lamentation devolved into chaos as each of them mourned the loss of the second-eldest.
Satan was standing at the door the entire time, watching in horror as his brothers, and now sister, grieved over Mammon's sacrifice. A page near his foot caught his eye, the words written on it and the paper seeming quite familiar.
His eyes widened as he realized it was a page of the spell-book which was currently resting on his bed. Bending down, he picked it up with shaking hands, viridescent eyes widening at what was written.
Exchange of life-forces can only be performed by demons. It is a risky ritual, that can only be performed once between two demons, or a demon and their master, or a demon and a soul. It is irreversible, and hence should be used as a last resort, and a last resort only.
Once again, Satan bitterly thought to himself, I signify the loss of a sibling.
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love-is-a-dagger · 4 months ago
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What they’re like when you’re on your period
Steve, Tony, Bucky, Loki, Natasha, Wanda, Thor, Sam, Bruce. (I haven’t proof read this so there might be some mistakes)
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•he was worried to begin with.
•he had woken up and you had bled on him, he thought he had hurt you from the night before.
•After 10 minutes of apologising, you managed to ran off to quickly sort yourself out, after promising to change the bed as soon as you get out.
•when you where finished to came back to see the bed remade, with a sheepish looking Steve, who had a blush nested on his cheeks.
•“I,uh, kinda did a little research”
•he had a few bars of chocolate on his hands.
•you settled together in bed, you were hesitant but Steve brushed of your worries.
•“it’s only a pair of short”
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•he wasn’t used to them.
•he normally kicked the girl out as soon as the sun rised the next day.
•he made a very somewhat embarrassing call to his assistant pepper, asking what he should do after find a small puddle of blood on the bed.
•when you went to bed that night tony wasn’t there, your cramps were bad at the moment so you were planning to ride them out before adventuring around his pent house to find him.
•then he arrived with a small heat pad, he gave you a cheeky grin before handing it to you and snigggling behind you.
• “thank you ,Tony”
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• he remembers learning about periods off his ma and sister.
• he always tried to listen but got embarrassed when they got a little to much into it.
•so when you came home holding your stomach, almost in tears from the pain, he knew it had to be your period.
•he cuddles with you, keeping you warm.
•he brings you all the treats you like.
•if you want some space is is more than willing to let you be, as long as you want it, and will be on you the second you give him the green flag.
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•he doesn’t really understand it
•but when you almost yell at him after he held you a little to tight around the stomach, he felt like he needed to know more
•he couldn’t ask anyone so he decided to do some reading.
•he’s shocked, with all that happens, bleeding, pain, your hips widening…
•he’ll try his best and will ask you every time he’s doing something if it’s okay.
•he’ll practice some spells to help with cramps
•he’s trying his best
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•she knew you were in your period before you did. She likes to plan head, she also tracks your cycle.
•she was be carful with everything she would do, gentler kisses on your head, playing with your hair while cuddling.
•she’d make you tea, coffee, you name it.
• “come on, honey. I’ll make you something to drink”
•you could probably get away with murder because she’d do anything you’d as. Well, she’s do that even when you’re not on your period.
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•you’d be dating for a while, and your cycles would start to happen at the same time.
•but the first time it happened while dating you bled through your trousers, and you were freaking out.
•Wanda could hear your distressed thoughts, and helped you out, and you thanked her with a red face.
•but when you’re been dating awhile you’d stay in and watch movies and eat junk food.
•if one of you have cramps it’s a unofficial rule to get them some medicine to help the other.
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•he freak med out when he saw blood on your pyjamas after you got out of bed.
•he rushed to you and frantically asked if your okay and immediately thought he hurt you the night before.
•you were confused asking what he was on about, and when he told you it felt like your face was one fire.
•you nearly died if embarrassment when you had to explain what a period was and why is happened.
• “ahh! A natural test for a pregnancy!” He all but yelled, making you push your hands into your face.
• he’s treat you like a queen when he was told by loki (who scary enough knew a lot about the human body) about how they effect you, cramps, mood swings.
• he’d try and find things that would help you, asking his mother if she possibly knew a spell that could help.
•he’d be scared to touch you but once you explain that the pain comes in waves and isn’t always there he’s quick to hug you, thankful he won’t hurt you
•he’s an overall underrated softie
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•he’s had a bit of experience, with a few past girlfriends, so he keeps products you may need at his place.
•so when you said you had to cut date night short, after a very embarrassing explanation about getting your period, he was quick to shut you down, explaining how he had period product in his sink cupboard.
•after you had everything sorted he started a movie and you two snuggled up and enjoyed the rest of the evening.
•Sam makes sure your alright, getting you anything you fancy/crave and always has a heat pad at the ready
•Sam doesn’t really care that your on your period, it doesn’t gross him out or make him uncomfortable because it’s an natural body function.
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•he’s a little shy about it.
•he’s not grossed out by it, not one bit, but he’s shy.
•you’d be holding your stomach while lying in bed with him and he’d ask why’s wrong, only for his ears to turn red with embarrassment.
•he would do small things for you, leaving chocolate on the side for you, always making sure there is some painkillers.
•when you’re in bed with him he’d stroke your stomach lightly, soothing you.
•Bruce would never admit it, but he secretly loves it when your on your period, he doesn’t know why, but he does.
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maximotts · 4 months ago
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𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞 || 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
a/n: say it with me now... bottom!Wanda rights ♡ this is basically the main WandaNat/reader au I want to write in for future fics; Natasha isn't in this one all that much, but like YOU GET IT! So feel free to send requests for this AU specifically, but I do already have a few ideas for them. Alright that's all, enjoy your read!
warnings: 18+, minors dni; sexting; sex toy use {riding crop, remote vibrator, implied strap-on (nat giving)}; masturbation; thigh riding; slight degradation (r giving); semi-clothed sex; pet names (baby, sweetheart, bunny); daddy!Nat makes an appearance; kinda bratty Wanda? she's just h word and irritated about it
summary: Wanda's day off leaves her both horny and alone, but when she tries to pull either you or Natasha from work, she gets more than she bargained for
words: 4.3k
masterlist. || navi. || request rules/info : open
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Days off were rare for Avengers; “crime doesn’t sleep” as Steve liked to remind anyone who had the misfortune of listening to him talk about a long day’s work. Consequently when someone did get time off, their schedules rarely synced up. Which is why Wanda was currently laying on her bed frustrated out of her mind. She’d begged you to stay in bed with her this morning, even gone so far to promise she’d let you do anything to her- the offer was tempting, but your massive piles of paperwork would only grow if you didn’t take care of them so reluctantly, you declined.
It was annoying for a while, knowing she was only a few floors away, soft and cuddly as always, and you were getting paper cuts from the backlog of mission reports in the cold office, but you were trying to work fast so you could get back to her. But then the texts started coming in.
Are you done yet?
Am I in our room?
You could imagine the eye rolling that was happening in your shared room right now and when she didn’t send a follow up you figured she found something better to do. At least one of you had the luxury to have fun today. As soon as you managed to focus back in on work though, your phone pinged once more.
Finish your work so you can finish me :(
It was your turn to groan, but you couldn’t deny the idea of Wanda as a reward intrigued you.
Let me work and I will. You’re distracting.
Distracting? Me? Never! :000
You had to let out a chuckle; Wanda was the most distracting person ever when she wanted attention. She hated giving up, especially when she woke up particularly needy, and today was proving to be one of those days. Still, she was such a fun fuck when she’d do absolutely anything to keep your focus entirely on her- just the thought had you bouncing your leg under your desk. Before you could get too carried away, multiple messages in rapid succession shook you from your increasingly explicit thoughts.
If I wanted to be distracting, I’d tell you all about how my vibrator died earlier.
I was so upset… still am.
I wanted you to stay with me so badly, but you left and I needed something…
Was so close this morning, I was right there, fuck, you should’ve seen me.
I was so soaked and probably was moaning way too loud… then it died and I wanted to cry, it left me on the worst edge ever
And I want you to finish soon because I need you.
Fuck. Wanda wasn’t playing fair and she knew it, but you’d caught her. You made her promise this morning that she’d wait for you to get back. If she’d left you alone, she could’ve avoided punishment, but she made mistakes when she was truly bad off which apparently, was now. The urge to skip out on your work was growing stronger, the image of Wanda unsatisfied by her own toys and needing you to help her, to give her what she wanted- if you were standing you would have gone weak in the knees. A stronger part of you wanted to draw it out, let her know you were onto her little game while you finished up.
You know that cunt is mine to play with. I leave you for a few short hours and you break the one thing I asked of you.
Does that mean you’re going to come see how wet I am?
Are you going to come fuck me until I can’t touch anymore?
Of course that’s what she wanted. It was what you wanted now too, thanks to her- but you wouldn't let yourself fall into her trap. Wanda broke the rules; she could suffer for a bit longer until you got around to her.
Behave, Wanda.
Upstairs, Wanda tossed her phone down the bed and groaned. It was no fun when you were stubborn and she wouldn’t last all day by herself; she was already squeezing her legs together to try to take control of the ache between them. “Stupid workaholic..” she grumbled, falling over onto her stomach while she thought of a backup plan. She turned her head and caught a glimpse of a forgotten red jacket- Natasha’s. There was always one other agent she could try.
≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫
“Did you break Wanda?”
You looked up from your desk, brows furrowed. Natasha stood next to your seated form, hip cocked and trying unsuccessfully to hide an amused smile. “Not yet. Why?” Natasha shook her head as she clicked buttons on her phone, handing it to you to see for yourself.
There on the screen was the most recent text conversation between Natasha and your sweet girlfriend. Only she wasn’t being very sweet with the redhead. She’d sent three photos back to back, each more provocative than the last. When you’d left Wanda this morning, she was wearing an old, stretched out shirt of yours, but since then she’d gotten dressed, at least momentarily. She hadn’t bothered with a complicated outfit, really, just a simple t-shirt paired with her favorite black skirt: your favorite. Today it hit just above mid-thigh, a length you were sure she’d hiked it up to on purpose for Natasha’s benefit. She was always going on about wanting to sink her teeth into those soft legs of hers. Most notable though was what was happening under the skirt.
Wanda was sat on her knees atop your plush mattress, one hand hidden between her legs. And then slipping under her ripped tights. And then finally, impossibly seductively, the tights were gone but her hand was back, pushed high enough to reveal just a hint of white lace underwear, fingers pressing against the textured fabric to give a perfect outline of her mound. Your ears were already hot, burning with the need to touch and possess your mischievous girlfriend, but then you read the single, short caption: ‘come take care of your baby? please, daddy…’
“Oh that little-”
“Are you going to deal with her or should I?” Natasha had completely given up trying to hide her amusement, leaning against your office wall and laughing. She wasn’t new to these types of shenanigans. At first she joined you and Wanda as a one off, but it was becoming more and more regular as of late and while you couldn’t complain, her addition meant Wanda had another person to play the innocent card with. Natasha, sharp as she was, caught on quickly. Unluckily for Wanda, while Natasha was more likely to steal her away for an impulsive meeting in the nearest closet, she was also the most dominant and strict of you three. If it were up to her, Wanda’s texts would have earned her nothing more than a week of involuntary celibacy.
You stood and stretched, compressed joints popping as you glared down at Natasha’s phone; if you could, you might’ve crushed the device in your hand. “I’ll go. Someone needs a lesson in patience.. Could you help me with something?”
≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫
You didn’t know what you expected to see once you made it back to your floor, but the room was eerily quiet as you wandered down the hall. Before you could even get the door fully closed, Wanda was on you, arms wrapping around your neck and pressing against you so hard you thought you were going to fall backwards. Keeping your balance, she crashed her lips to yours in a messy attempt to take control; it was cute that she thought she had any chance here. With quick maneuvering you managed to pry her off, holding her at arms length while she pouted. “Don’t give me that face. You know what you did.”
Wanda’s brows knit together and she slumped in your hold, “Only as a means to an end, but you’re here now. I’ll be good.” You let her go to give her a proper once over, scrutinizing if she’d gotten up to anything else while you were preoccupied.
“You’ll be good?” She nodded instantly, eyes following you as you walked away across the room. “You’ll have to prove it to me, love, you’ve been plenty naughty today.” A dissenting whine reached you from where you’d begun looking through your trusty chest of toys and objects, but one pointed look from over your shoulder told Wanda you weren’t in a forgiving mood and she shut her mouth without another word. “On the bed.”
The order was cold, clinical, and Wanda rushed to obey. Your lack of affection told her you hadn’t come back to cuddle and give her kisses; punishment would only be worse the longer she resisted. When you turned back, she was poised on the bed much like her photo, knees tucked under her, hands on her thighs. The sight sent shivers up your spine- you wanted to ruin her, so well and thorough that she’d beg you to stop. Not that you’d listen until you were through. You set a riding crop next to Wanda, watched her eyes glance over it and her tongue dart out to wet her lips. She was such an easy read. “Eyes on me now.”
Reluctantly, she tore her eyes away and looked from you to the unfamiliar object still in your hand expectantly; she didn’t remember mentioning you’d ordered anything new. “What’s that?”
A quick slap hit the side of her bare thigh, your palm colliding with the cool skin. “You’ll see soon enough. Now lie back and spread your legs for me.” Wanda hesitated, biting her lip as she laid against your pillows and moved her legs apart just a fraction. “What’s the matter, baby? Did you get shy all of a sudden?”
From the second Wanda nodded, wide eyes blinking up at you like the picture of innocence, you knew what she was up to. She liked to try to evade punishment with sheer cuteness and sometimes it worked, but not today. “Oh no, Wanda. You’re not getting out of it this time,” hands slid up her legs slowly from calf to thigh, squeezing the sensitive skin of her inner legs before forcing them apart. “If you show me you can be a good girl, I’ll give you a nice reward.” Wanda perked up at that, relaxing finally and shuddering as your fingers brushed over her clothed pussy. “Let’s get these off before you wreck them, hm?”
She lifted her hips with ease as you pulled the lace fabric from her, but then she tried shimmying out of her skirt and you pushed her hands away. “Shouldn’t this come off?” But you only shook your head, leaning in to kiss the inside of her knee.
“I want it on. Just like those pictures you sent to Nat.” So you had seen them. This was the first she’d heard you mention it, knowing whoever responded to those photos would have it in for her, but she couldn’t deny the tug at her core she felt knowing those were what pulled you away from work.
You pushed her hips back down to the bed, more forcefully than needed just to make her wiggle under you. “Did you like them?” Wanda watched you stare and felt a blush creep up her neck; there was something special about the way you always looked at her. Even now when she knew she was in trouble, you looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing on Earth and it was that look, that feeling that she selfishly craved from you all the time. As long as she kept your attention, she could see it.
“Mhm,” your lips stayed planted on the spot you’d found was most sensitive behind her knee, nibbling and sucking gently, setting in a bruise everyone was bound to see for days. “Natasha showed me… You’re a very naughty little witch,” You sunk your teeth in hard, earning a loud squeak, “but very cute. And very, very hot.” Honestly you couldn’t help yourself, trailing your mouth up her legs until your nose hit the hem of her skirt. “Hold your skirt up for me, bunny. I want to see you.” Wanda did as she was told, reaching a hand down to grab her skirt and bunch it over her lower tummy, smirking as you bit back a moan at the sight of her already wet between her legs.
“But you’re still going to punish me for it?” You backed up to grab the riding crop, tapping it playfully over her arms. Part of you had to admire how persistent she was to try and get out of it.
“Of course I am, bunny. And you’re going to take it like a good girl.”
Wanda gulped, finding no trace of joking in your eyes. She’d wanted you back, yes, but the tight knot in her lower stomach was screaming to be released and it was clear you had no intention of giving that to her right away. When the riding crop slid over her legs she shuddered, wiggling helplessly in your grasp. “Don’t tease, please..”
You offered her a fake pout, feigning sympathy for your girlfriend. “What’s wrong? All wound up because your little toy died and no one was around to take care of you?” Wanda nodded as the cool leather slid over her slit, coating it easily in her slick. A few light taps had her mewling, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip hard to keep her eager sounds at bay. “Ah ah, I want to hear you,” you murmured sweetly, pulling her lip from her teeth with gentle fingers, “I know you can use your words.”
“Just touch me.” She could barely meet your eyes, fiddling with her skirt. “I can’t take waiting anymore.”
“I know what you can and can’t take, Wands. Trust me,” Wanda perked up, gazing at you with hope in her eyes as you took one of her hands. But joined hands moved down to make her cup her own sex and she quirked a confused brow. “You’re gonna take fifteen hits from this,” you tapped the tip of the riding crop against her thighs, “and while I do, you’re going to touch yourself like the needy whore you’ve been today.”
Wanda debated refusing, but it would do more harm than good. Embarrassment crept through her as you watched her bring two fingers to slide down her slit, but soon a string of sighs left her and she forced herself to relax imagining her cautious touches were yours instead. It took work to tear your eyes away from her as she slowly worked her way up to her elusive release, but once you managed the first slap to her thigh and saw her mouth fly open in shock, you knew you had to follow through.
You went slow on purpose, drawing out the torture you knew she was suffering through. Red patches littered her legs, the marks having crept high into the apex of her thighs when you wanted to watch her really squirm for you. “Does this get you off, baby? Taking your punishment while you’re spread open for me?” She didn’t have to respond; the obscene wet noises coming from where Wanda was working her fingers was answer enough. As much fun as you were having, Wanda was visibly nearing her end and the need to see her fall apart on her own fingers was consuming you.
The last two hits of the crop had Wanda bucking desperately against her hand- it was all she could do not to cum the moment the last one landed dangerously close to where she was soaked and swollen. It hurt, yes, but it was that perfect mix of pleasure and pain that left her pushing her fingers deeper, grinding her hips against the heel of her palm to rub her clit. “Please, please, I finished, I need to-” Completing her sentence was impossible, dissolving into whines as she curled her fingers perfectly.
You took pity; she was so pretty when she needed you. Setting the riding crop down, you leant forward, one hand planted next to Wanda’s arched back and the other moving to slide up her leg, thumb just barely nudging her neglected clit. It took about three circles before she was shaking. She wanted to cling to you, hold you in any way, but her hand stayed dutifully holding her skirt out of the way. “Come for me, Wanda.” Permission was all it took for her to fall with your name on her lips, slowing her fingers to ride her way through her orgasm.
“God, you’re so gorgeous.” You peppered her face with kisses, avoiding her lips temporarily until she caught her breath. Once she settled you brought your lips together with a smile, “Feel better?”
Wanda nodded, “A little…” She puffed her cheeks out and looked away, her true goal still unaccomplished.
“I know that look.” Wanda snapped back to you, relieved you weren’t forcing her to speak her desires. “Sit up for me, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you need.”
≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫
This was not what she had in mind.
She’d quickly found out what the new toy on the other side of her was when you wordlessly slid the vibrator into her with a mischievous smirk. It wasn’t the biggest thing she’d taken but it was snug and, still sensitive from her recent orgasm, felt a bit overwhelming. In the back of her mind she registered that you were reaching away from her, but then you’d grabbed her previously discarded panties and you were pulling the delicate lace back over her thighs and she started to wiggle away. “W-What are you doing?”
“I’m giving you what you need, of course.” The tone of your voice was too innocently excited, even as you ‘accidentally’ slipped and pushed against the now fabric covered toy. She got way too excited when you practically manhandled her into your lap, having to brace her hands against the headboard to keep from crushing you completely. Before she could ask another question, a firm thigh was slipping between her legs as she settled. “You wanted my attention, right?” Wanda gave a hesitant nod, testing a rock against you and just barely biting back a moan at the full feeling. “Well you have my full attention.” She’d just barely caught sight of the small remote in your hand before the toy inside her started to vibrate and Wanda fell forward until her head met your shoulder. It felt good, too good; this would replace her recently dead toy instantly. Your hands rested on her hips, forcing her to rock over your thigh at a slow pace even as she gasped out a protest. “Aww, no, is it too much?”
Wanda wanted to growl at your mocking tone, but she settled for biting your shoulder- both because she was growing frustrated with you and it temporarily muffled her cries. Even through your shirt you knew her teeth would leave a mark. “No, fuck-” The vibrations went up a notch and she started to grip your sides, but you were pulling her away to get a good look at her. “I wanted you…”
“I’m right here, Wanda.” She sent a sharp glare your way, planting her hands into the mattress for leverage. Being purposely obtuse was quickly becoming Wanda’s least favorite look on you. “I’m totally focused on you, just like you wanted.”
“N-No, it’s not-” Her head was shaking, but still she was rutting against you, chasing another high so soon after her other one. She couldn’t deny the knot quickly tightening in her belly, following the pattern you set for her, but the loudest part of her was still upset. She had to imagine it was your strap she was riding instead of you insistent on playing with her until she broke.
“Oh bunny, did you want me to fuck you?” She nodded frantically, shifting closer to you to seek out a kiss. You couldn’t refuse her, not when she was soaking your thigh so perfectly. Kissing Wanda was an indulgence by itself, sliding your tongue into her mouth to greedily taste her strained moans. “You should’ve said something.” It was quickly growing too much, the toy hitting that perfect spot her fingers could never quite reach. She wanted to come again, but she wanted you to do it. She wanted you to take her and fill her until she cried she couldn’t take any more.
You could tell she was close, her nails practically ripping the bed sheets in her fierce grip, jaw visibly clenched as she focused on keeping some sort of control. Wanda was losing fast. “Please, fuck me…” If she could make it just a bit longer-
“You’re doing so well on your own, love, you don’t need me.” Just for fun you dropped your leg flat to the bed, letting out a groan of your own when Wanda followed suit as if she was on autopilot, spreading her knees apart farther just to continue rutting against your leg. It was hard, a near painfully awkward position, but she couldn’t stop- she needed this. The second one took her by surprise, orgasm washing over her before she knew it was happening. It was strong, earth shaking, and she dreaded the thought of anyone hearing how loud she was being.
The brunette hadn’t stopped moving, but that dreaded vibrator kept going and she didn’t stand a chance to recover before she was rapidly building up to another. “I-I can’t-”
“Can you just give me one more?” Faux disappointment etched over your features and Wanda hated how much it made her want to do anything to see it gone; fuzzy as her brain was currently, she wanted you to be proud of her. “Is this what you looked like earlier? All desperate and fucked out while you missed me? You ruined your panties, you know, they’re fucking soaked.” Fuck, Wanda wasn’t going to make it long if you kept talking to her like that. She hated to admit it, but it turned her on to no end when you did. Which was often.
Still, she held out hope you’d give into her one request; the bitter edge of dissatisfaction laced into every orgasm you’d let her have this afternoon. “Dont- I don’t wanna like this..” Tears had started to fall from her eyes with the overstimulation, desperate to get her way just once.
“It’s this or nothing, bunny. Bad girls don’t get to cum how they want.” Wanda whimpered, a deep, aching noise, but it only made your grin grow. “Go on, cum again around your new toy for me, darling. Let me see you.” She did, riding that pleasurable wave again as you pushed your thigh up once more for her to use. Finally you turned the toy off, giving her the reprieve as pleasured sobs wracked her body. She wound her arms around you limply, thighs shaking with aftershocks in your lap.
You didn’t know how long you’d been gone, but it didn’t matter, your real job -taking care of your attention seeking girlfriend- was the priority. “That’ll keep you for a while I bet,” you chuckled, brushing a gentle hand through her hair.
You shifted just enough to pull both the wet lace and toy from her; gentle as you were, Wanda whined into your neck once she was free, cold air hitting her overheated lower half. Even as you cleaned her up as much as you could, ridding her of her skirt and rubbing her back, Wanda clung to you like a koala. She was always cuddly after sex, especially when she was in a clingy mood. Eventually you felt her breathing fully calm and you made to move away, but she trapped you tighter.
“Don’t leave, you’re here now.” Wanda had you back in your room, she couldn’t bear spending the rest of the afternoon alone. “Stay with me, detka.” You weren’t planning on leaving anyways, having already written off your remaining paperwork as a job for later, but her soft request couldn’t be ignored. Even more so, your plan wasn’t exactly over yet.
“I’m not leaving, Wanda. I couldn’t possibly leave my girl alone when she’s so needy, can I?” You kissed her nose and forehead until she was giggling, only stopping when you were interrupted by the sound of your door opening. Wanda stiffened, attempting to wiggle her way under the nearest blanket, but it was your turn to hold her in place now.
“Aw did I miss the first act?” Natasha wandered through the door, scanning the room briefly before her eyes locked on the quivering mess of Wanda sprawled across you.
You scoffed and beckoned her over, “Not my fault you took forever.” The redhead sat on the edge of the mattress, laughing when Wanda instantly gripped your arm for safety.
Natasha settled next to the two of you, easily pulling Wanda from your lap to her own. She pulled a stray strand of hair out of her face, carefully tucking it behind Wanda’s ear, “What’s wrong, baby? I thought you wanted us to come take care of you?” Dread filled Wanda as the weight of her actions settled on her; she wasn’t getting out of there any time soon. “You thought you could send me those pictures and not have me come do something about it? What a sly little bunny we have.” Natasha cupped Wanda’s chin in her grasp, tugging her forward for a kiss, confident and sure against the brunette’s soft submissive form. “But always such a good girl.”
A strong arm snaked around her waist, hands settling on her hips and making her squirm. Natasha forced Wanda forward until her front was pressed perfectly against her, lingering wetness from her three previous orgasms dampening Natasha’s pants. She let Wanda grind against her lap slowly; exhausted as she was, she knew what Natasha wanted from her. Natasha continued to kiss her, nipping playfully at her jawline when she felt Wanda tense, having finally found the large bulge tenting her pants. Fuck, it was going to be a long night. “Look, bunny, daddy brought you exactly what you’ve been begging for.”
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katsu28 · a month ago
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Safe Place
Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader
Summary: After a particularly rough night at home, JJ goes to the one place he knows he’ll be safe
Warnings: mentions of blood and cuts, insinuations of abuse, cute sappy shit towards the end, very minimal swearing
a/n: here's some more JJ content to hold y'all over while I struggle to write Risk It All part 2 :)
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(gif found on google, credits to owner)
You had just managed to fall asleep when you heard some faint rustling outside your window, then a quiet creaaakkk and a dull thud along with a soft curse. Rolling over in your bed, you flipped on your lamp to see your boyfriend JJ hunched over in the middle of your room.
“JJ? What are you—oh. Oh shit.” You stopped mid sentence when he looked up at you and you got a better look at his face.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t—I didn’t mean to wake you,” He said softly, dragging a hand through his wild hair. “I just...I had to see you, and I didn’t know where else to go—” You shook your head, swinging your legs out of bed and padding over to stand in front of JJ.
He winced as you ghosted your fingers across the cuts littering his face, but when you cupped his cheek, he leaned into your familiar and comforting touch. Without another word, you laced your fingers through his and tugged him to your bathroom.
It had become an unspoken ritual that on nights when Luke was particularly worse than usual, JJ would come to your house and you’d patch him up, no questions asked. You knew that his relationship with his father wasn’t one that he liked talking about, and you never pushed him, because your only concern was that JJ was safe in your hands right now. Nothing else mattered as long as he was okay.
JJ leaned against your sink, waiting patiently as you rummaged through the cabinets for the first aid kit before letting you wedge yourself between his legs. His hands came to rest at your waist while you cleaned him up, fingers tracing aimlessly on your hips. It was silent for a while, the only sounds being an occasional hiss of pain from JJ and a murmured ‘sorry’ from you. He studied you as you worked, wordlessly taking in the one person who felt like home to him.
JJ thought you were absolutely perfect—from the way you bit your lip as you concentrated, to the tiny scrunch of your nose at the rubbing alcohol smell, to even the simplest thing, like the light brush of your fingertips across his cheeks. Everything you did, JJ believed was perfect.
And how he was lucky enough to land someone like you, he honestly had no idea. But he was damn sure that he’d never let you go, even if it was the end of the world.
He was so absorbed in thinking about how perfect you were, he didn’t even realize you’d finished until you waved your hand in front of his face with an amused look on yours. “Like what you see, Maybank?”
“I do, very much. My perfect girl.” JJ replied sweetly, trying to smile at you but wincing slightly at the sting of his busted lip.
“Come on.” You chuckled, tossing all the bloody tissues into the trash before grabbing JJ’s hand and dragging him towards your bed. He stumbled after you willingly, but tugged you to a stop just before you were about to slip back in. You turned to voice your concern, but the words on your lips died when JJ pulled you into a tight hug. Instead, you opted to let yourself fall against his chest, smiling at the sound of his steady heartbeat against your cheek.
“Thank you.” He murmured into your hair, voice so soft that you wouldn’t have heard it if you weren’t right up against him.
“I’m always here for you, J.” You assured him, rising up on your tiptoes to press your lips against his. JJ’s hands slipped down to your waist yet again, fingers digging into the soft skin gently as his mouth slotted with yours like a perfect fit.
When you pulled away, he pouted, watching you with sad eyes as you crawled back into the warmth and coziness of your bed. “We were having such a nice time, Y/N.” He whined, but slipped in beside you nonetheless. You giggled, reaching over JJ to switch your lamp off.
The room was enveloped in darkness, but even in the dark, you could see the moonlight reflecting in JJ’s impossibly beautiful blue eyes as he looked back at you with admiration.
“You’re so pretty.” You sighed, tucking your arm beneath your pillow and gazing at your boyfriend lovingly.
“You’re prettier, baby.” He muttered, brushing his thumb across your cheek. You merely smiled, scooching as close to JJ as humanly possible, his arms coming to drape over your waist as you pressed your forehead against his. “I love you.”
“I know.”
“Did you just Han Solo me?”
“I did.”
“Fuckin’ nerd.”
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bastillewolf · a year ago
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Shinigami Eyes (I)
Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader
Summary: When you’re paired up with Corpse as imposters in a game of Among Us, you seem to somehow apprehend each others strategies even though it’s the first time you’ve ever played together. He appreciates a good impostor.
Notes: I know I still have many fics I need to finish, but I just wanted to throw out a quick Corpse one because sad to say I’ve been simping for him too. By the way, this is my interpretation of him and this is just for fun. Also, I haven’t written for second person in a while, so I’m sorry if this sucks.
TAG LIST CLOSED!
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Shinigami Eyes - Oneshot
“Hey, I wanted to invite Corpse,” Sean said right as the Among Us theme started playing on your computer.
“Great vooooice,” Grease called out.
“Oh, I haven’t played with him before,” you said. It was true, but you’d heard of his legendary voice before and your viewers had been asking for him. You’d only allow it because No Simp September was over. Chat was already going mad.
“You’ll love him. Unless he murders you, because he’s a great imposter,” Sean replies. “He’s too good,” Felix adds.
After a moment, you heard the familiar noise of someone joining the Discord. “Hello everyone,” a deep rumble greeted. The group all said their welcomes, while you introduced yourself. “Very nice to meet you, Corpse,” you added. You didn’t want to comment on the obvious. He must hear it all the time. But you couldn’t deny it was like silk to your ears.
“Nice to meet you to. You make great vids.” A blush spread across your cheeks, “You shouldn’t say things like that, chat is already jealous.” He chuckled.
5… 4… 3… 2… 1…
Impostor
Great, you’re instantly sweating. Thankfully, though, it seems you were lucky enough to have been teamed up with the king of lying himself. Corpse’s name is as bloodred as yours.
You decide to follow him after Toast and Sean, and think about how it was Sean who ironically invited the person who was going to murder him in just a few moments. All four of you were being decontaminated below lab, when Corpse made stepped a tad closer to him. You almost synchronically chopped their heads off, and you squealed in excitement. 2 down, 4 to go. As long as no one would find their bodies for a while, you still had time.
Next thing, you’re out of the South entrance and you’ve split up. You join Sykkuno in electric and just wait on him to do his task. Felix joins you afterwards in the next room. That’s when Toast’s body, and ultimately Sean’s, is reported.
Corpse had run back and self-reported.
“Corpse and I just ran into decontamination and found Sean and Toast,” Rae announced.
You were still muted. “Oh god, he’s playing a dangerous game.”
Sykkuno decided it would be the perfect time to call you out. “You and Felix only joined me a while later and decided to stay. Kinda sus of you.”
“No, she was with me at the beginning. I watched her do a task in office,” your fellow impostor vouched. They’d been right, he’s a damn good liar. He manages to hide any sliver of emotion in that deep baritone.
“I don’t trust Corpse anymore, he does stuff like this all the time when he’s impostor,” Lily noted.
“Stuff like what?” He huffed in amusement.
The group agreed the accusation made was a bit vague, and it had affectively directed the attention away from you and onto Felix. After another round of some serious investigating and threatening you all decided to skip.
“Corpse makes me feel less nervous about being an impostor,” you tell chat, “He seems so chill about it.” You ran down to Weapons, but decided against killing anyone when you found three people doing tasks there. You shoved yourself into the clump of bodies and waited until everyone had finished. Running back up to centre with both Lily and Rae, you felt restless that you would eventually have to kill one of them. You just hoped they wouldn’t take it personally.
Corpse ran past, alone. Your characters didn’t have eyes, but somehow they showed a mutual understanding. He killed Lily, you killed Rae. You sputtered and chortled and followed right on after him down into the venthole. He met you in the bathroom stall. “Cosy,” you joked. Until Grease walked in. “Oh, that’s awkward.” You realized you were still standing suspiciously over the venthole. “Shit.”
You didn’t know where Grease had gone, but your first instinct was to hit the red emergency meeting button in the Office. “Grease was in the bathroom stall hovering over a vent.” You may not have your fellow impostors emotionless tone, but you knew laughing through your accusation usually worked.
“Are you kidding me?! I just saw you and Corpse standing in there doing I don’t know what!” Grease yelled.
“That’s a bold statement. You know I’d never cheat on Sykkuno,” Corpse said. “Wait, what?” the man in question replied. Corpse ignored him.
“Corpse was with me when I found you there. On another note I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people vent at the same time before.” Two truths, technically.
“Alright, I’m voting Grease,” Felix said, “I’m sensing liar voice.”
Sykkuno suspected Grease and you, but promised he’d vote you out after if he was wrong. “We have to vote now,” you reminded them.
Grease was ejected.
You met Corpse again in laboratory, where only Felix was doing a task. No one moved. “Oh no, you may have the honours,” you gracefully called out to an unsuspecting impostor. He seemed to get the message through however, and swiftly killed Felix when the Kill button was set to press again.
Defeat.
 “Oh my god, that was so stressful,” you cried out. Corpse chuckled, “Don’t worry, you did great.”
“Hey, don’t you dare steal him,” Sean threatened, “He’s my impostor mate!” You laughed.
“You murdered me and Lily almost synchronically,” Rae sputtered, to which Sean added, “Oh my god, same here. It was some nasty psychic shit.” “Corpse and I just have the Shinigami eyes,” you explained. You saw Corpse’s name flash in the top left corner, but only heard him exhale in amusement. It was cute.
5… 4… 3… 2… 1…
Impostor
“Oh… my… god.” Has this ever happened before in this game? Either way, no one will suspect both of you to be it again. You imagine he was feeling similarly, as he hadn’t moved from the spawn point yet. “How in the fuck…?” Chat was confused, but seemed to enjoy the spectacle.
You and corpse split up this time. Don’t use the same tactics twice.
You followed Felix and Sykkuno into Office and faked a task. They decided to wait for you, and you kept your eyes on the green bar until it moved. You travelled trough Admin and Decontamination until you met up with Lily in Labs. “Shit,” you murmured, “There’s too many people. I’m gonna look suspicious.”
Corpse showed up. Lily and Sykkuno left. You killed Felix. Toast walked in, and unfortunately at the hands of your teammate, he did become toast.
You ran in a circle around him and hoped it was enough of a hint for him to follow you. He picked up on it and followed you into the bathroom stall. But neither of you vented. You let a smile slip, almost forgetting you had a face cam. Awkwardly clearing your throat, you explained to your viewers in a very non-convincing way this was just a good impostor strategy. They’d do well to learn from it.
The bodies were reported instantly, and you cursed under your breath. Lily was the one who reported it. “So, I found Felix in Labs and there were only two other people in there before me and Sykkuno left.”
“I went down through Decontamination,” you explained, “I lost Corpse back at Labs.”
“I went back North, I passed you on the way there, Lily.”
Lily was sus of you. “What? Why?!” You asked. “Because I didn’t see anyone in Decontamination and there’s no way you could’ve gone through there that quickly. I wasn’t gone that long,” she said.
Well, shit. “Weren’t the lights off? You couldn’t possibly see me in Decontamination. I’m wondering why you walked back into Labs anyway, Lily.”
A series of ‘ooh’s were heard through the Discord call.
“But I was running up that hallway, I didn’t see you come out,” Grease suddenly spoke up.
“Why were you in there, Grease?” Corpse asked, but you knew it was already too late.
“I was running up to do my task in Labs. I didn’t see her come through the doors before the body was reported.”
“I wasn’t out of Decontamination yet,” you ground out. It was of no use, however. More than half of the people left voted you out, including Lily, Grease, Sean and Corpse, since he had an image to maintain as fake crewmember.
HeartEyes was ejected.
You decided, both out of your own interest and for content’s sake, to follow Corpse as a ghost. He seemed to be having the same trouble as you, suddenly being surrounded by a group of people. “That’s rough. He’s gonna have to kill five more people.”
That was when he bravely decided to take action. Sabotage the reactor, follow everyone there, jump into the lump of people trying to fix the problem and kill so no one would know who did it. He self-reported it in the blink of an eye.
The group was indeed confused, to say the least. Grease had died. “Wait, who was the last to come in?” Sean asked. “It was me,” Corpse admitted, “But I did the handprint scan because no one else was doing it. Weren’t you standing there doing that with Lily?” “Yeah, I had to wait because it wasn’t working.”
“What?!” Lily exclaimed, in only a way she could, “I was doing the scan! It was Sean, then!” The two suspects were starting a heavy discussion, whilst your eyes were trained on the red of Corpse’s name.
The group decided to vote out Lily, as she was the one to report the last murder.
“Is he just… Killing the people who voted for me?” you muttered. Shaking your head, you continued, “Nah, it has to be coincidence.”
But then a body was found, and Corpse said he suspected Sean again. Was he actually working down the list? “Is he avenging me? That’s so sweet, no one has ever done that for me before…” Just a video game, you had to remind yourself. It was just a video game you were playing with friends. And a man with a very nice voice who’d just murdered everyone who did you wrong. Just a game, yes.
Turns out, Corpse really knew how to put his voice to use, as Sean was ejected. He managed to kill Sykkuno and Dave after that, and the game was won by the imposters.
“AGAIN?!” Felix yelled, “How did you two get teamed up again?!” “That’s bullshit,” Sean laughed.
You smiled, as Corpse said, “Us Shinigami’s have to stick together.” It made you blush. “Thanks for avenging me, Corpse. That was very sweet of you.” He chuckled, “Any time. I don’t mind killing people when I have a good teammate.”
“Hey! I’m still here too, you know!” Sean yelled upset.
“It was really fun playing with you guys,” you said, stretching your arms. You’d already been streaming for three hours, it was time to go. Everyone said goodbye, but you didn’t hear Corpse. And you wished it hadn’t twisted your stomach in the way it did.
You wished your viewers a nice day, and promised to update them on Twitter when you’d be streaming next. You were done for the day.
Yet, as you’d closed all tabs and were about to close Discord, you got a call. It was private, and it was from Corpse.
“Hey, miss me already?” you jokingly said.
He chuckled quietly. He suddenly seemed a lot shyer now, being extracted from the group. “Nice game.”
“Yeah, you really know how to keep your emotions hidden. I was impressed, to say the least.”
“You were really good, too. I can appreciate a good imposter.”
You bit your lip. “Hm, I hope to see some more of that appreciation in the future. It was rather nice having someone avenge me.”
“I’d do it again any time. Hiding in the toilet was a good strategy, by the way.”
You snorted at that, “Not good enough, it seems. They voted me out.”
“Big mistake. Nobody kills my teammate.”
“Aww, did the Shinigami catch feelings for the human?”
He rumbled, “I thought you weren’t human?”
You didn’t comment on the fact that he’d failed to answer the original suggestion you’d made. “Touché.”
It was quiet for a moment, and you wondered if you’d crossed a line there and made the wrong assumptions about where the conversation was going. You quickly added, “Are you playing again this week?”
“Yeah, Sean said they’d stream again this Thursday.”
“I suppose I’ll see you there, then.”
He hummed. You sensed there was more to it, though. He hadn’t made any indication he wanted to end the call yet. But then he finally said, “I hope we get teamed up again. So you can get your own revenge.”
“I hope so too.”
***
Might do a follow up to this oneshot, if anyone asks for it. Will definitely create more for Corpse, he’s a lot of fun to write.
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the-wednesday-tales · a year ago
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17th Birthday
When he wakes up on his seventeenth birthday, Dean doesn’t expect much. He can’t even remember the last time he celebrated a birthday- Sammy will usually give him a (terribly) hand-drawn card and whatever little gift he’s managed to scrounge up on the road, but John lets the day pass just like any other. Dean doesn’t even want much, a simple happy birthday and candle to blow out would be more than enough..but he knows better than to ask for even that.
It’s been almost a year  since John dragged him out of the boys home and back on the road. He’s been looking at Dean differently ever since, a subtle change that Dean can’t quite put his finger on, but can feel palpably nevertheless. He wants to know what he did, but he’s even more afraid to find out. For now he keeps his head down and does as he’s asked, like always.
Dean sighs and rolls out of bed, gets dressed. He throws together what could pass as breakfast for him and Sammy, and when they’re finished John walks in and hands Dean a rifle. Dean silently follows him out into the forest, where they waste away the morning shooting at trees and tin cans.
Sam sits on a stump reading the whole time.
When they get back to the room, Dean has barely sat down at the table to clean the guns when a stack of papers lands in front of him with a plop. He looks up to see John looming over the table, a hard glint in his eyes. Dean eyes the papers warily.
John clears his throat, “There’s a couple of ghosts terrorizing the convent just outside of town. Two nuns haunting the place”.
Dean glances up at John. “Should I pack a bag, so we can head out right away?”
John shakes his head, slaps a gruff hand down on Dean’s shoulder.
“I’m going to stay behind with Sammy. It’s time you took on a hunt by yourself. It’s a simple salt and burn, so even you can’t fuck that up.”
The hand on his shoulder squeezes hard enough to bruise and Dean bites his tongue and nods, shame burning at the back of his throat. John gives him keys to the Impala then heads over to Sammy without another word.
Dean tucks the papers into a duffel alongside the salt, matches, and shotgun casings then heads out.
**** When Dean gets to St. Stephen’s Indian Mission, he pulls over on the other side of the road and pulls out the papers to read. The stack contains a section from the town’s newspaper and some photocopied files from the church mentioned.
Dean settles back to start reading, and is barely a couple sentences in when his stomach drops.
Two nuns.
Two nuns who were in love with each other and were found out by the townspeople.
They killed themselves shortly after, bled out beside one another in the convent’s cemetery, curled together beneath the statue of St. Stephen.
Dean has to close his eyes and swallow against the bile that rises in his throat.
He knows. He knows. He knows. He knows.
Dean draws in a few shaky breaths and slowly opens his eyes. He finally knows what changed, finally understands why John has been looking at him differently. John knows.
Dean cycles through his memories, tries to pinpoint how John could have figured it out. Dean’s been so careful…so careful. He never looks too long, he never flirts, and he certainly has never brought a boy back to the motel. And yet John still knows.
Maybe he can tell just by looking at Dean.
He spends a few more moments in the car, tamping down the rising panic before he gets out and starts investigating.
*** Night has fallen and Dean has spent the better part of two hours locating the graves of the two nuns- Helen and Adelaide. They were hidden in the forest behind the cemetery, marked by two simple crosses. They weren’t even given the decency of being buried in the cemetery, let alone a headstone.
He spends another couple of hours digging up the two graves. Two graves is so much harder then one, and tiring when you’re the only one digging.
He understands what this hunt is now. He understands why it’s his first one alone.
It’s punishment.
John sent him out here as punishment for what he has done, for who he is.
Dean wonders how many hunts, how many punishments he will have to endure until he is normal, until he is clean.
By the time he uncovered both sets of bones, the moon is high in the sky and lights the graves in an eerie bluish color. The nuns are dressed in plain clothes, their habits no where to be seen. Dean bites his cheek until it bleeds. Of course they aren’t in their habits. They defied God. They defied the natural order. They were sinners…abominations.
And now John knows. He knows Dean is just like them. That he is tainted, wrong, unnatural.
Dean goes to pour the salt into the two graves, but stops.
With tears slipping down his cheeks, he carefully moves one set of bones into the other grave. Places them side by side until they are resting together.
Maybe they couldn’t be together when they were alive, but at least now they will be together forever. They deserve that much.
He pours the salt and lights the match. Drops it in with a shaking hand.
He watches as the flames burn steadily. He contemplates stepping into the flames for just a second, a minute. No one else would have to know if he died. His secret would be safe. And he would be clean, right? The fire would purify him, purge him of sins and cleanse his soul of its stains.
But the thought passes, and he thinks of Sammy. He can’t leave him alone. Sammy deserves a good father and while John damn well will never be one, Dean can try.
Dean watches until the flames burn out, tears silently streaming down his face.
On the drive back he has to pull over on the side of the road to throw up. He retches until there’s nothing left in his stomach and the bile burns his throat. When he’s done his chest is heaving, but he still feels sick. His throat burns and his heart hurts when he thinks of Helen and Adelaide. He wonders if he’ll meet the same fate.
He spends a few minutes kneeling in the dirt panting, then pushes himself to his feet, wipes his mouth clean, and gets back in the car.
When he returns to the motel room, he can’t meet John’s eyes. Dean  knows that look will be written plainly across John’s face, knows now what that look means and why it’s there.
He tells John “It’s done” and goes to bed.
*** The next time John sends him on a solo hunt won’t be for years after that.
Inspired by @halfofmysoull @heller-jensen @bisexualrowena and the gut wrenching thing that is J*hn W*nchester’s journals.
Now on ao3
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