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#angsty then soft
urfriendlywriter · 20 days
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20 "we are each other's safe place" romance prompts:
(feeling emo now that I'm officially back :') feel free to useee and tag me when yall write!!)
holding each other close in silence
yearning for just one hug after being separated for so so long... </3
"i can't seem to take neither my eyes, nor my mind off of you, [name]." :'')
noticing that bright smile of theirs after you compliment them. [my heart. omds]
them rushing into your embrace after a long day
"let me ask my partner." or,
"oh, my partner at home is waiting for me, i better get going :)"
being ur partner's mum's favorite, hehehe
^ "ma... how come they're getting head rubs from you often while i rarely do?"
sulking to get attention from them and they get cuteness aggression over you (> < my cuteness aggress. for mr. japan goes crazy guys!!)
being you comes easy with them ♡
being emotionally available to one another, and having each other and knowing you're not alone <3
when they're affirmative and expect affirmations from you <communication is the best trope>
cuddling and cozying up together, being all physical but not sexual ツ✰
them wrapping their hand around yours whenever walking together
when it's their smile, that's just enough to brighten your day :')
loving and living and actually looking forward to tomorrow with them,
^ "you make me want to be a better person."
"smile for me" or, "twirl for me" :))
searching for each other in a crowded rooms, finding each other everywhere (this is just love guys, top tier.)
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mayhasopinions · 11 months
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Helluva Boss s2 ep4 spoilers!
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ohhh i am so normal about this
the way Blitzo got genuinely worried about him, was like 'oh shit this might actually be serious' and he said afterward 'he can get hurt?' implies that he didn't realise before that Stolas can feel as everyone else feels, as before he always put Stolas up on a pedestal as higher than him - a prince. It's now that he realises that Stolas is just as much of a person as anyone else. He can die, he’s not invincible. he can feel, he has a heart. I think this is now when Blitzo starts developing genuine feelings for him from here, as he now sees him as not a prince or someone higher than him on the food chain, but Stolas, a person like anyone else.
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satellite-starss · 2 months
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A scientist and his sciencelings 🧪
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sun-snatcher · 1 month
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hello! i love ur work and i was wondering if u could do some live action zuko angst (that makes ur heart sink) and then it progresses to fluff (that makes ur heart swell) please? HAHA idk if it makes sense but i rlly love ur work!! hope ure doing well n no pressure!!!
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🐉・ HEARTBURN
summ.  Fresh from his banishment, Zuko faces the aftermath of his punishment in both his dreams and his waking hours. pairing. Zuko x f!reader (established relationship) w.count.  1k.  a/n.  A bit abstract on this one, but just typical dream logic. A glimpse at Zuko’s descent into madness, almost? Sorry anon if this is mostly angst than fluff! 🧎🏻‍♀️
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Zuko’s dreams manifest at the scent of burnt flesh and the sound of his own screaming.
He feels the molten sting of a melting crown upon his skin and the fantastical beast that is his father; something monstrous— something scaled, fanged, clawed, and too large an appetite, with a touch and breath of fire that lights the skies in a blaze.
( He wakes up with his voice hoarse from screaming. The 41st Division will eventually learn early on not to mention it. They just leave a hot pot of tea ready for him come the mornings, by General Iroh's orders. )
Sometimes, it transgresses. Sometimes, it’s his mother who burns while he watches from the sidelines of the Agni Kai; Or Azula. Their shrieks mix with his when he wakes. 
Sometimes, it’s Iroh who scalds him. Great Dragon of the West, jasmine-white with razor teeth and a flame that burns as hot as the sun; serpent eyes a shining gold and a sharper tongue that spoke of his disappointment for his nephew. 
Sometimes, it begins with you.
Please, you beg, at the foot of a winged beast. It speaks in the voice of his father; damning, all-encompassing. It warns the Prince the price of compassion, of mercies, and of weaknesses. Eliminate her, or I will. 
Rarely does Zuko ever move. He’d plead in your name, to spare your life. It never happens; he just wakes to the smell of smoke and the sound of your screaming.
( There are dreams he doesn’t speak at all to defend you. The shame devours him whole. )
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“I’ve killed you over a hundred times, in my sleep.”
In the aftermath of another nightmare, you turn to face Zuko. You’re not quite sure what to say. 
“Other nights, it’s the 41st, or Uncle,” he says, quietly. “Even mom, or Azula.”
You turn back to the small medical chest on the desk. The infirmary is quieter at times like these; the soldiers of the 41st know not to visit the usual haunts of their Prince. Tonight, Zuko will have to replace the bandages of his scar, and there are only two people on this ship he’d ever trust in his life to lay a hand on it.
You’re shifting towards where he’s sitting on one of the cots. “May I?”
( You ask. You always ask. Even when you’ve done this nearly fifty times, you ask. Zuko is glad; there’s a comfort in agency, especially when he’s gotten so used to losing it every time he sleeps.  )
He nods, and you make quick work to unravel the bandages. When the layers come away, you observe the way his left eye shuts and opens as he blinks, remaining half-closed into a permanent expression of pain. He looks away, downcast. 
The skin around is stretched taut, some areas rawer than others, marred with growing scar tissue that knots in twisting valleys. ( Zuko has only seen the scar once. He’s covered the mirrors in his room ever since; avoids glancing at his own passing reflections. )
The wound is still fresh; the memories fresher.
You don’t flinch at the sight or recoil like the other soldiers or dignitaries. 
He finds… solace in that.
( Something roils in his mind. It uncurls and hisses and growls. )
“Tilt your head for me,” you say, ready to replace the cotton on his eye with a new one. 
He stops your wrist just as you do. 
Your heart jumps at the contact. His hands are warm.
“Why?” he blurts.
You blink in confusion.
“Why’d you come with me?”
The reply is instant, and unintentionally drowned in affection. “Where else would I have belonged?”
Zuko almost answers instinctively: With me. By my side. He shakes his head.
“You should have never come,” he says, instead. He’d grown fond of you over the years. Too fond; over some Firenation colonel’s daughter, a force to be reckoned with and yet a childhood friend who he’d played and studied and fought with countless times. Fond enough that he’d been foolish to let you step foot into the ship of the 41st Division the day he’d been banished; fond enough to be foolish enough to allow you to put yourself in harm’s way. “You could’ve had a better future back home.”
“But a miserable one,” you counter. 
His nostrils flare as he sighs. You watch the way his brows weave to a frown, the way they always did whenever he’s tamping down his frustration. "Nothing is more miserable than being banished from home. Yet here you are walking away from it.”
“You and I both know the palace was never a home for me,” you say. “I’ve been by your side my entire life. I’m not about to break that streak over some punishment. You matter to me.”
Zuko’s heart stifles. 
( Compassion, he hears the wings of the blood-red dragon in his dreams unfurl. Compassion is a sign of weakness. )
“It was a stupid move,” he blurts, letting go of you. He had wanted it to be emotionless, but it comes out as distinctively bitter: “Sooner or later you’ll come to regret your decision. Then, you’ll see I was right all along.”
“Maybe,” you say, just to appease him. “But I doubt it.”
( Lies, jeers the serpent. You have only yourself to rely on in this world, Zuko. )
For the sake of conversation, you don’t provoke him further. You continue, instead, with replacing the dressings around his eye. He’s angry enough as is with the world— with you. For being stubborn. And strong. And steadfast. And loyal. And—
Zuko glances at your face in focus, your hands so careful in binding the gauze it’s nearly featherlight. “Tell me if it hurts,” you say, with gentle authority. 
The ire leaves his body. Zuko’s gaze softens at a realisation:
“Not once have you ever hurt me. Not even in my dreams.”
It’s a statement so frighteningly vulnerable that it has you stilling. Your breath staggers. Something swells in your chest. You let your hand rest on his cheek, thumb below his scar. The touch is reassuring. Zuko wants to lean into it.
“I don’t think I ever could,” you answer, honestly. 
( She can, sings the beast. She will. And once she does, know that it will burn tenfold than what I've done. )
Zuko's hand settles on top of yours. 
“You can hurt me,” he concedes, solemn, voice barely above a whisper. “You can if you must. I command it.”
( The dragon in his head hisses. For now, it retreats. )
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andi-o-geyser · 1 year
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*record scratch*
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Yup, that’s me, watching my future wife fall to the ground dead from a trap I set off. I bet you’re wondering how I got into this situation. Well, my life’s a little crazy, but it all began when my family was murdered in a political coup and I made a pact to create the first gun with a smoke demon...
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gengwasted · 10 months
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Spoiling Haitham with kisses cause he deserves em.
I’ll be honest: I was just looking for an excuse to draw his boots
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cetuscorvus · 11 months
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Keeping an eye on things. Feldcroft isn't what it used to be.
Visit to Feldcroft with Slate Jumper Attire from Sallow's Closet
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lotuslate · 7 months
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I did @pakhnokh’s challenge from twitter to draw this in your style! Here’s the original !
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mizusnose · 3 months
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Mizu x reader: A cozy weekend snapshot
You both lay on the kitchen floors together whenever you’re making oven-ready pizza, watching the crust rise. Mizu pecks you and holds you as you complain about how cold she always is. she nuzzles her nose into your neck anyways.
“I could do this forever” She’d say as you both drift off into silence, her hand skating up your arm.
You’re both busy working adults, but you go out sometimes on the weekends. Usually it goes like this:
No, I’m not drinking tonight, mizu says getting ready, Gotta look out for you. But you know better and make sure your uber app has enough money.
Then at the bar and club: one drink turns to two, to three, to shots, and Mizu is very suddenly tipsy, her body a stretch of heat against yours.
The drive back is arguably the best part.
Pleaseeee, Mizu says—slurs, as you hold her hand and pet back her curled bangs, Just let me marry you already, say yes.
She always starts proposing to you when she’s like this: happy and relaxed and feeling euphoric. You feel so much for her, it’s insane.
You coo at her and kiss her to appease her pouts. Convince her to wait, just a bit longer, just a little more, until then.
Mizu finally concedes when you pull up the little multicolored dancing fruit on youtube for her.
Mizu doesn’t normally snore, but she does whenever she’s trashed. You kiss her nose in her sleep, and you think: I am so in love with you.
and: Ask me again, ask me again and I’ll say yes darling.
Mizu has an awful headache the next day and you make her hangover soup as you both watch that new movie you’d been wanting to see.
yeah so i actually felt really bad about how heaven pt.2 ended so here’s this :)
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lilgoblinbitch · 1 month
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The Archer Finds a Soulmate 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
girl dad!daryl dixon x fem!reader
a/n: this idea was offered by @yummymeee !! was trying to find fluffy daryl prompts and this one stuck with me.
summary: Daryl is a father of a young girl and has always had trouble trusting new people. When he meets you, everything changes.
warnings: none really, typical twd stuff, just some angst and fluff at the end :)
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Daryl Dixon was left raising a child in the apocalypse. He didn't expect to find himself taking care of a baby all by himself after the mother of his child ended up hiding it from him, and on her death bed begging Daryl to keep the baby safe. Of course, Daryl would love his baby girl till the day he died. She was the light of his life. She was the only thing left in this cruel world that reminded him of what made life worth living.
Five years after the start of the apocalypse, Daryl was extremely lucky to have been part of a large community that actually showed not only him, but his little girl, charity and companionship. All he wished for was a safe home and chance for his daughter to grow up happy. Because he never got to have a happy childhood himself, it almost felt imperative for him to manifest his own happiness and prosperity by giving his own kid that opportunity.
"Jasmine! Get outta that pile'a crap and c'mere!"
The five-year-old girl lay on her back in mound of dirt and leaves, swishing her arms and legs back and forth. "Daddy, look! I'm making a dirt angel!"
Daryl scoffed as he peered over at his daughter, who was collecting bits of leaves and sticks and dirt in her hair and probably covering every inch of the fabric of her outfit. An outfit that Carol had recently washed, because it originally got stained with orange juice and pudding. Unfortunately little predicaments like that were bound to happen to any little kid. It didn't bother Daryl, he just didn't want to put more of a burden on Carol.
Daryl stood up from the log he was sitting on, setting the dead rabbit he was working on skinning to the side. "Jas! Ya want food or not?" He called out, waving the playful child over to him. She perked her head up at him, her dark curly hair now decorated with bits of colorful leaves and sticks, almost making her hair look like a Christmas tree in some way. The child obeyed and jumped up from the ground, shaking off the dirt that layered her clothing. And of course, they needed to be washed again.
Joining her father by the fire, Jasmine plopped down on the log across from him and simpered at him. He smiled back after examining her youthful grin and spotting the smeared dirt on her face. "Ya got dirt on yer face, silly girl. Here, wipe yer hands and face with this." He handed her a towel, one that was adorned with pink and purple flowers. She loved that little beach towel. She snatched it out of her father's hands and hastily rubbed it all over her face and hands, then tossing it on the ground. Daryl sighed in distress.
"How many more things of yers we gotta ask Carol to wash?"
"We're outside, daddy. There is dirt, and you say dirt makes us dirty. So it's got to make everything else dirty, right?" Her enthusiasm never failed to make him grin and forget what he was even upset at her about.
"A'ight, watch me, ready?" Daryl grabbed the dead rabbit and continued skinning it, making sure Jasmine was watching him. Her face contorted in disgust.
"I don't wanna do that, daddy! It's gross and it hurts the rabbit."
He ignored her complaining and continued skinning it. "It's dead already. Didn't feel any pain, I promise," he reassured the child. "I just needed to show ya how yer dad makes yer all-time favorite food: rabbit stew."
The little girl shook her head. "No, my favorite food is Carol's cookies, and the Kingdom's cobbler!"
Daryl rolled his eyes, finishing up skinning the rabbit and then sticking it on a stick and placing it over the fire. Throughout their meal, Daryl told her about the time he first ever had to eat rabbit, and how he was around her age. His daughter was always absolutely thrilled to hear stories, especially from her father. She admired him more than he realized. And she looked forward to every Thursday afternoon, because that's when Daryl took her out for walks in the woods, pointing out various plants and showing her how to differentiate between animal tracks and walker tracks. Of course, she was too young to fully understand everything he taught her, but it made him more comfortable knowing that she was learning early on.
Some nights Daryl lay awake, tossing and turning only to say "fuck it" and go out in the woods where he could ease his mind, while his daughter was already fast asleep in the room across the hall. He loved being alone in the woods; just him and no one else to disturb him for a few hours.
However, one night he ended up acquiring company from an unexpected individual: you. Daryl didn't know very much about you, besides the fact that you joined Alexandria not too long after he and his group did. You were quiet and reserved, always keeping to yourself and never being found in large crowds because you were always more content when alone. Daryl often found himself following you into the woods to see what you even did out there, but you were just too quick to spy on. And truthfully, you were afraid of Daryl. You had seen how similar he was to you in some ways; his love for nature and serenity and the comfort of being isolated from the loudness of the community you lived in. You observed him going into the woods and not coming back out for hours, just as you did. He ended up becoming a valued member of Alexandria as he helped Aaron recruit new members to the community. He was becoming more outspoken than you, and that seemed to make you nervous.
Tonight, curiosity got the best of you and you decided to go and see what it was that Daryl the archer father did late at night in the woods, all alone.
Daryl did not anticipate anyone to be as good of a tracker as he was, especially in the dark of night. But being the daughter of a hunter father ended up advantaging you with that skill. So when he heard footsteps and prepared to send an arrow flying and landing between the eyes of a walker, but ended up being face to face with you, he was surprised to say the least.
"Hey, um, Daryl right?" Your flashlight beamed onto his face, and he squinted. "Sorry," you turned it off and shoved it in your pocket, "I just, um...I always see you out here, and I'm always out here, so..."
"So what?" Daryl wasn't in the mood for visitors, especially not annoyingly beautiful women such as yourself. You made him nervous.
Daryl kicked the dirt around with his feet, not looking up at you as you continued to speak to him. "Look, I'm not really a people person, and you probably want nothing to do with me because I never talked to you before...but I–" you stopped to look down at the dirt and shuffle your feet in it as well, involuntarily mimicking Daryl. "I dunno, I just need a friend, I think."
You could feel Daryl's eyes on you now, the glow of the small fire illuminating his auburn hair and the specks of hair on his beard. You swallowed hard, becoming a nervous wreck under his hard gaze. "Why me?" Was all he managed to say after studying your face. You finally made eye contact with him after mustering up the courage to do so. He had pretty eyes.
"Because I think we're alike in a lot of ways." You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and leaned against the thick tree beside you. "And honestly, you're one of the only people I know of that has better tracking skills than me," you added, voice soft and unsure. Unsure of what the mysterious man in front of you was thinking. It seemed like he had so much going on in his head all the time, and that's because he did. His thoughts raced, thoughts about you and how pretty you looked under the sparkling fire and why the hell you were talking to a loser single dad like him.
But you didn't see him like that. You were intimidated by him – always have been, except this time he intimidated you in a way you never expected. He made you want to open up to him, because you could tell now that he was just like you. You went your whole life never wanting to be seen by anyone, but Daryl changed that.
Daryl's lack of words left you in your thoughts once again. What if that was his sign for you to scram? What if he hated you? What if he thought you were a fucking creep for sneaking up on him in the middle of the night in the woods? You couldn't handle the fear of rejection so you took matters into your own hands.
Sighing in defeat, you turned on your heal and started for the other direction back to Alexandria, until you were abruptly stopped in your tracks.
"Wait."
Daryl did not wish for you to leave. He believed you. You were like him. "Ya wanna come hunting?"
Your eyes lit up in elation, and you smiled at him. "Yeah, I'd love to."
After a only a few weeks, you and Daryl became friends. He properly introduced you to his daughter Jasmine, who when meeting you for the first time told you, "You're pretty!" It melted your heart. Yours and Daryl's friendship grew drastically from then on. You respected him a lot, as he did you. The two of you were able to teach each other things about nature and hunting that the other had no clue about; you taught Daryl which herbs were best for different things, and he taught you how to shoot with a crossbow. Of course, your bow and arrow and your dagger were just enough for you already, but it pleased you to know that Daryl actually wanted to teach you.
Soon enough it was evident that you and Daryl were growing a deeper connection than the two of you originally anticipated. But somehow you weren't scared of it. You felt content around him, and it was clear that he felt that way about you, too.
"Jasmine!" Daryl called out, frantically searching the woods for his pesky little daughter. The sun was setting over the tree line ahead of him, clouds painted orange and pink. It was going to be dark soon, and he had no idea where his daughter had run off to.
Daryl found his feet moving on their own, eyes shifting around his surroundings while he attempted to track the footsteps of his daughter. "Jas! C'mon let's go!" Suddenly the sound of a twig snapping filled the air. His heartbeat quickened, and his paternal instincts kicked in. He raced toward the sound, crossbow at the ready.
He was just about ready to shoot whatever was hiding behind the tree but when he saw you walking with Jasmine he stopped in his tracks, lowering his weapon. You and Jasmine both glanced up at him simultaneously, and the little girl ran up to her father and hugged him. A sigh of relief overcame him as he bent down to hug her back. You beamed down at the two of them, admiring how touching the sight was.
"Where were ya?" Daryl stood back up, moving his focus between both you and his daughter. You could tell he was trying his hardest to stay calm, but the fact that his daughter was running off in the woods without him made him feel uneasy and on edge.
"Don't worry, I found her by a stream back there. She told me she wanted to learn how to catch frogs," you reassured him. He grinned and looked down at the girl, who was carrying a red bucket full of croaking amphibians.
"Look how many I caught, daddy!" She lifted the bucket up to Daryl and he peered into it. "Well someone's a professional frog catcher now, ey?" He teased.
The three of you reached the gates and Jasmine hurriedly ran down the street to the other kids outside. You smiled and turned to Daryl, who was already staring at you. You blushed and looked down at your feet.
"Sorry, I should have told you she was with me. She just seemed so excited and I couldn't say no, so–"
"Nah. Don't need to apologize," he interrupted, reaching his hand up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. "I, uh, thank you, fer watchin' her."
A gentle breeze drifted through your hair and you brushed stray strands out of your face, all the while Daryl shifted his weight and gathered the pith to express his feelings at that moment. He needed to get it off his chest.
Your doe eyes only impelled him further.
"Uh..." his anxious eyes finally met your passionate ones. "I think Jas might enjoy having ya over fer dinner t'night."
This time you tittered, nodding your head enthusiastically. "If this is your way of wanting more of my company, just say it, Daryl." Your face muscles seriously ached from smiling so hard. "I... I like you. And I would love to come over, honestly, any time."
Daryl's face flushed a shade of pink you'd never seen on him before. It made you giddy. "I like ya too."
That moment felt so cliche – it felt like you and Daryl were part of a silly teenage romcom film. But you two earned that cliche moment. You were surprisingly capable of harvesting a healthy connection with someone who really meant a lot to you.
The magnetic pull between the two of you grew stronger and stronger, reeling your body closer to his. Your hand instinctively brushed against his, making Daryl's insides mushy.
A smirk ran across yours lips and you grabbed Daryl's hand firmly. "C'mon, let's go make some food for tonight."
That evening you cooked venison stew for Daryl and his daughter, by gratitude of the huge buck Daryl scored earlier that morning. Secretly you loved to cook, but you'd only ever cook for someone who was special to you; back in the day you'd always cook for your father after he'd go out hunting and bring back game that gave you an opportunity to create a mouth-watering recipe. Today, that special someone was Daryl. You truly believed he deserved a decent meal from you after everything he'd done for you. He won your trust and respect – even more so your love.
"Thank you."
Daryl was sprawled out on the couch, staring up at you as you had finished cleaning up the dishes. He had already tucked Jasmine into bed up stairs, afterward coming back down to gawk at you.
You wiped your hands on a towel and set it on the counter, turning your attention the the comfortable man on the couch. "No need to thank me. I wanted to cook for you." You joined him on the couch, drowning in the soft cushion and taking in the homey vibe of his living room.
He sat up, turning his body toward you. That expression was painted on his face again – the one that told you he was doubting himself, or that he was trying really hard to articulate his emotions. You took his hands in yours, a decision that caught Daryl by surprise. "You don't need to doubt yourself anymore. I know what you're feeling, trust me."
Your reassurance kindled the spark of courage Daryl so desperately needed. It was as if you were his god, his creator – the one to send him the message from the sky to tell him it was his time to listen to his heart. And so he did.
The archer's rough, calloused fingers traced shapes over the dry skin of your hands. Your gaze melted him like plastic by the fire, and the words your spoke to him spilled from your lips like a prayer.
"Kiss me, Daryl."
Carefully Daryl parted his lips while searching your face for any uncertainties; there were none. And so he kissed you. He kissed you like you were a porcelain doll, suppressing his strength as to not break you. He wanted this kiss to last forever, and so did you.
Daryl trusted his gut that you were the one for him, and boy was that the best decision he ever made right there and then.
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urfriendlywriter · 4 months
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things me and my bestfriends have said to each other that would make a list of heartbreaking prompts:
(found family trope but irl haha, feel free to use <3 tag me when yall writee, 1,9,11,13,24 has a spcl place in my heart)
"i don't feel seen at times." "it's not true. i see you, [name], i always have."
"thank you for listening to me, thank you for being here for me."
"i love the family we've found for ourselves :( "
"i want to hug you.."
"you, you can always come to me when you're happy and when you're sad."
"you make me become the best of me." <333
"i can never forget when you did ___, God i almost fell in love with you then."
"no, i don't want to rant-" "no, no, hey, it's okay. rant. I'm here to listen."
"whenever i ask you, you say I'm ok, but whenever you ask me i bare my heart open to you. i just want you to tell me if you're having a hard time so i can lend you a shoulder in silence!"
"just--just come with me, please ! I'll take care of you, please leave that hell hole you call home !"
"it hurts, [name]." in a weak murmur and they just rest their face on your shoulder, leaning on one another as they whisper, "it's okay to hurt. cry if u have to."
"should we just run away from home and live together?"
"you are a good person, [nickname]." ✯
"rant, love, go ahead."
"i was very proud of you. i still am."
"you're the positive blueprint/sunshine to my fucked up life, [name]" (ok but they said this to me while we were both in our LOWEST)
"we were enemies before weren't we?" "yeah, haha, if you were a boy we'd have become lovers!!"
^ "[nickname], are you GAY?? YOU ARE GAY- OMG" "stop it lmao" (all in texts lol)
"i wonder what good i did to deserve you " </3
"how lovely of you :)" "ilysm" "shut up, dude, you're so adorable."
"you are devastatingly beautiful, [name]."
"i can never forget what you looked like at your happiest... you glowed. " :((
"hugs, please :/"
"I'd love to nom nom you TT" (we were acting cute and actually melting)
"we'll become the parents we never had."
"we are walking through this life together, aren't we? let's do so till we are together in the paradise, too."
"you mean a lot to me."
"together, in this world and in the here-after too."
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bloody-teared-angel · 2 months
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I don't know if I'm sad or angry about *H*H* and how it portrayed Hell and its Highest Princes, Kings, Presidents and Marquis or lack thereof. If Miss Medrano truly wanted to criticise Christianity, she could've utilised Demonology and people who work with them. And no, not all Demons are evil.
There are also videos of people having some experiences working or conjuring them and some Demons also want to share their knowledge.
King Paimon - There are videos of people talking about working with King Paimon and I highly recommend watching them. He teaches all arts, philosophies and all secrets things - an offering to him must be made.
Prince Orobas - faithful to the ones that conjure him, never deceives them, gives true answers to past, present and things to come, divinity and creation of the world, confers dignities and prelacies, and favour of friends and foes. - this Prince could be a nice depiction of Demons working with humans, since Prince Orobas along with King Paimon love sharing knowledge -
Prince Stolas - astrology, knowledge of herbs, plants and precious stones. Again, since he's the 'main character' in *H*B* they could show him teaching humans or those who desire to know more - imps or sinners. Then again....
Marquis Gamigin - teaches all liberal sciences and gives an account of the souls of those who died in sin and drowned in the sea. Stays with the conjurer until they are satisfied.
There are also tortured demons, who still wish to return to heaven - Phenex for example - also a pacifist demon, who got casted out of heaven due to not picking a side (no, not Belphegor who was just lazy). All of this could be written as a tragedy, a criticism of God and Christianity, that not all Demons are evil, how Satanists (not in horror movies) and others worship someone else other than God.
(TLDR, I still don't understand why they want to redeem sinners when heaven was shown to be worse than hell.)
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xdeath-by-poisonx · 2 months
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First kiss..•♡♡•.
..•°♡°•..
It was a slow heat that moved across Angel as he leaned in, cheeks a brilliant hue of pink as the bartender's lips pressed softly into his. The two had been getting to know each other for several months now, and even though the porn star had wanted more from Husk for quite awhile now, his fear that things would turned sour (as the tended to do) had always stopped him from making the first move.
Plus, he cared far too much for Husk to blow it all on a night or two of passion - on nights that would inevitably lead to something toxic - poisonous.
After all, that's all Angel has known since he arrived in Hell. And if he was being honest, he couldn't even recall the last time he'd had something that wasn't that way. Afterlife or otherwise.
But this?
This was nice.
A soft sigh falling from his lips as Husk's warm tongue parted them - it was slow and languid. Husk's arms coming to wrap around him as the bartender pulled Angel a little closer. He felt safe - comfortable. No pain or fear to be had as his tongue danced warmly over his own.
A sting of tears collecting in the corners of the spider demon's eyes - tears of happiness, hope - threatening to break free at any moment just like the emotions that currently filled Angel's heart. Long fingers wrapping into tufts of soft fur as Angel pulled them both closer still, reveling in the slow movements of the kiss.
And while the heat of it all was slowly stoked, Angel knew right then and there that he'd be completely content just kissing the bartender for the remainder of the night. Just having him there - close - with the beating of Husk's heart against his chest and the slight twinge of whiskey on his breath.
He also knew that Husk would go as slow as he needed - Angel knew inherently deep down that the ex-overlord would never break his trust.
And that-
Well, that was worth more than any night of passion. Than any amount of orgasms screamed into the night.
So, there the two remained. With their legs softly interlocked and arms wrapped safely around one another. Enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies while completely lost in nothing but the pure bliss of a first kiss.
..•°♡°•..
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ohnothisisathing · 5 months
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I like to think Etoiles was lovingly grown in a garden by his parents like in fairy tales and even when he was old enough to be cut from the vine his mother would rock him to sleep outside under the stars with the smell of wet soil in the cool night air.
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had a human au thought of Barnaby and Wally. idk doing their taxes or going through bills together since they share a house & Barnaby going "hey we could get married for tax benefits and health insurance. wait no what if i want to marry Howdy someday? it's illegal to be married to two people." Wally goes "we could get divorced" and Barnaby gets legitimately sad like:
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#wally: uhhhhhh. um. i think i left the oven running#barnaby: YOU DONT BAKE- GET BACK HERE AND ANSWER THE QUESTION#in human au barnaby's ideal world he can marry both his platonic life-partner And the love of his life#but the american government says No smh#my heart goes out to polyams everywhere#fuckkkkk getting unwell about this aus barnaby and wally again everyone#like i have so many different little plot lines and mini aus for the au#like what if there was a covid arc?#in my mind lockdown happens while wally is Elsewhere#so he cant exactly get back home! and obviously no one is happy about that but wally is dealing well enough#but barnaby's like 🥺 my lil buddys out there all on his own and im alone here so im gonna call him every day#(also i like to think that howdy spends lockdown w/ barn or vice-versa but this aint about that)#wally: vibing#barnaby: a bit of a wreck#absolutely unprompted#wh modern human au#but then also Angsty Thoughts of yo when they all get old uhhh who dies first#and In My Mind! they both die within a few days of each other#maybe barnaby goes first and wally just. pines away. broken heart syndrome babey!#also having soft thoughts of them when they first became friends#barnaby taking him to the farm and introducing him to the animals <3#wally trying to help out with morning chores after a sleepover <3#ms. beagle absolutely adoring wally and always having his favorite snacks In Stock for whenever he comes by <3#that one time barnaby broke somebody's jaw for going a little too far w/ insulting wally & almost got expelled <3#mannn they're so! honestly goals#oh and later on when they have their own place wally having his own lil art studio#and barnaby continuing to be his go-to muse <3#wally probably has so much fuckign art of barnaby lmao#OHHHHH AND THE CAR CRASH ARCCCCC DONT EVEN GET ME FUCKIGN STARTED#EMOTIONS CENTRAL THAT IS
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buqbite · 9 months
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A bit of softness for once
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