#mc probably say this at least once at some point

[sweetbrier2908]

mc: do the girls back home touch you like i do?

demon brothers: not a chance

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me incorrect quotes #this could be our new fanchant #omg the numbers of fanchant we have in delicate #yes im obsessed #obsessed with taylor swift #reputation tv when huhuhu #mc probably say this at least once at some point

[llamagoddessofficial]

The sirens are always rescuing Mc. But what if, for once, Mc was the one who came to the rescue of a siren...?

Amazing commission, courtesy of the delightful @our-brightest-stars. I love any chance I can take to write more arctic-based stuff!

---

You could immediately tell, upon entering the room, that they had been talking about you. 

Despite the sweet smell of coffee, the air was heavy. The chatter you had been hearing through the door immediately stopped, like you were a teacher that’d walked into a room of gossiping school kids. Four of your colleagues were gathered together around the kitchen table, mugs clasped in their hands - Evan, who you already thought was a bit of a dick, put his hand up to his shut mouth and cast a wide-eyed look to Leo and Tom beside him. Antoni, who you considered something of a friend, had her back to you but sank sheepishly into her beige turtleneck sweater regardless.

You bit the inside of your lip. You could tell from their faces what they had been discussing before you interrupted. You had gotten to know their expressions pretty well, after so long occupying the same cramped arctic research station together.

... Yeah, figured they’d find out eventually. If anything, I’m surprised it took them this long. 

You wordlessly made your way over to the coffee pot, shoes squeaking against the rubber floor. You put your rucksack onto the counter, grabbing your flask out of it, skin prickling from their staring. There was still a significant amount of coffee left - a bonus of working with people who were also coffee addicts was they generally respected the ‘never leave the pot empty’ rule. 

You filled your flask. The coffee still had some steam coming off it. Stars, the silence was deafening.

“... Uh... going out?” Antoni asked, plaintively, as you screwed the lid back on and pushed the sealed flask into the mesh on the side of your bag. At least she had the decency to sound ashamed. Leo didn’t do a very good job of hiding his snicker.

“Yeah.” You hefted the bag back onto your shoulders, doing your best to not make eye contact with any of them. 

Evan, clearly, couldn’t contain himself. “Gonna go track down mothman?”

You felt a flush of multiple emotions at the same time. Some embarrassment, some shame, all of it quickly washed away by aggravation. Heat rose to your cheeks, but you held your tongue. You wanted to point out what a stupid fucking thing it was to talk about tracking mothman (a cryptid from West Virginia) in the high arctic, but it was obvious he was baiting you, so you kept your mouth shut.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been made fun of for what you believed in. However... the words stung that little bit more, when it was coming from your fellow scientists. 

“Evan,” Antoni sounded exasperated, “don’t be such a prick.”

Evan raised his hands. “What? So I’m not allowed to ask questions?”

You didn’t respond. You walked past them, headed to the main corridor; you weren’t going to let this spoil your plans. “See you guys later.”

As you left the room, you vaguely heard Antoni and Leo starting to berate Evan in low whispers. Someone definitely called him an asshole, cut off as the door closed behind you.

You sighed. The hallway felt a lot longer than usual. You passed through another set of doors, heavy metal ones, into the cold ‘buffer’ room between the warm research station interior and the outside world. After double checking you had all your gear, you stepped out of the doors, outside into the sun.

People didn’t realise how beautiful the arctic could really be. If you told someone to describe the arctic, they would probably just talk about the ice. And yeah, sure, there was a lot of ice, it would be unreasonable to say someone was wrong for thinking of that. But that was like describing a forest as ‘just trees’. The arctic at this time of year was endless slopes of rugged greens that rolled and swayed and disappeared far away into the horizon and beyond, carved into shape by ancient lakes and glaciers scraping the ground piece by piece once in a millenia. It was a sight to behold. Trees couldn’t take root, only the hardiest shrubs survived, and you were little more than a stone’s throw from the vast sub-zero ocean.

That ocean, a haven for the rarest kinds of sirens, was your goal. 

You tugged your backpack into a more snug position on your shoulders, and continued trudging through the stones and bare grasses. Even now, with the sun high in the air and all but the most stubborn chunks of the ice gone, the arctic was... well, the arctic. It never got warm enough to be comfortable and it was a good idea to just keep moving if you wanted to make it to the shoreline with enough time to actually get some footage before sundown.

You loved your job. Some would call you crazy, for willingly spending months at a time in the arctic circle studying sirens. You’d always been interested in sirens. The mystery and culture wrapped up within them, the inherent danger, so little information could solve so much. Siren studies was one of those areas where even the most fractional of discoveries would be groundbreaking and important.

... Sirens weren’t your true passion, though. Your true passion was what Evan had probably just discovered, and shared with your teammates - why you were lugging such a giant cold-resistant camera kit in your bag with you.

You quietened your thoughts with a swig of warm coffee, and an increased walking pace. 

Would some people call your Youtube channel conspiratorial? Sure. But cryptids were where your heart really lied. Cryptid study, cryptid research, cryptid sightings... you were incredibly proud of the modest following of like-minded people you’d built up online over time - there was no doubt your qualifications definitely gave your word some weight in the tight-knit community. Honestly, you considered your research work simply a way to fund your true passion. Every day when you had the free time, you took your camera out with you, out into the beautiful arctic land. There was so much to look out for. What would you find? You were giddy. If you found something truly incredible, your channel could blow up, and you could do Youtube full time. Today your mission was just to get some footage of the sea for a voiceover section you had planned.

... There was never a small amount of side-eyeing from people you knew, when they found out what you were passionate about. You weren’t sure what was worse; the ones who rolled their eyes and made stupid comments, or the ones who nodded along but looked at you like you were a particularly imaginative child. At least the more aggressive ones were honest about how they really felt. 

Sirens, in a way, felt like they proved that you were right to keep wondering what else was out there. They were incredible creatures, not even fractionally understood, dangerous and magical - they perfectly straddled the line between science and fantasy and there was so much of them that couldn’t be explained by those who (so frequently) brushed you off. How did their songs lure people? How do their bodies consist of such strange combinations of beings? How do they effortlessly sink hunting boats? Why did so many cultures have matching stories of them that perfectly apply to real life? In your world, honestly, the existence of sirens meant that a lot of other cryptids didn’t seem like too much of a stretch.

You had dedicated your life to researching sirens. By studying them, you could follow a path that was suitably scientific enough to shut up the assholes who didn’t take you seriously... but also gave you the time and resources to pursue your real passion.

You had to admit, you took pleasure in people discovering you were a scientist and a strong believer in certain cryptids. The visual erroring on their faces was wonderfully karmic to observe.

There was plenty of time to spare on the arctic research station. Experiments were frequent but didn’t take literally all day. You were left with ample opportunity to do whatever you pleased. Like, for instance... go out and film for your Youtube.

Aside from wanting to take pictures and film some B-roll, you just generally enjoyed being able to be outside. It was all well and good in the spring and summer, but when autumn and winter rolled around you’d be lucky to be able to see out of the windows. There was nothing as endless as the darkness of an arctic winter; the screaming winds, the days as pitch black as the nights, the many weeks cooped up in one place because the outside of the facility was literally one of the most hostile environments on Earth. It was good to stretch the legs - soak up as much serotonin as possible before the winter months came.

After a decent amount of time walking, immersed in your thoughts, you found yourself able to see the flat expanse of the sea poking just over the snow-topped hills. You were finally approaching the shore. Even from where you stood, you could see the massive ‘islands’ of ice floating silently away in the far distance. It was a truly magnificent place to be.

You rifled through your pockets for your hearing protection as you came close enough to the water to smell it, eventually having to pull off a glove for the dexterity. Even just a few metres from the sea you had to be aware of sirensong. Sirensong was always something of a risk but it was an even stronger risk while you were somewhere as remote as the arctic.

... But just before you got your protection into your ears, you heard something. It sounded like scrabbling, a weirdly desperate scratching. You stopped walking, turning cluelessly and searching for the source of the noise.

A few yards to your left, a patch of snow was wriggling.

No. It wasn’t snow. You blinked in surprise; it was an arctic hare, a surprisingly large animal, lean and white and with beady little black eyes. The animals this far north were always so much bigger than you expected. When it saw you notice it, it scrabbled and flailed in a way that only a frightened animal could, clearly desperately trying to run away. 

Something was stopping it. Upon closer inspection, from where you stood, you could see it had one back leg trapped in a small crack in the ice.

... Huh. You moved nearer, putting your hearing protection back into your pocket. The hare flailed again, wildly kicking its front legs, it reminded you of an injured bird trying to fly. Then it totally stilled; as if it could hide from you after all that movement.

“... I really shouldn’t help you,” you said, dejectedly, to the terrified animal, watching its little whiskers twitch, long ears pinned back against its skull as it tried to act indistinguishable from the ground. “Survival of the fittest, and all.”

The hare’s beautiful eyes stared up at you. You could see its little chest going up and down, heart beating wildly under its soft white fur.

...

You scanned the horizon. There was no one around for a long while. Sure, your GPS tracker told your coworkers where you were at all times in case of emergency. But until they thought there was an emergency you absolutely weren’t being followed anytime soon.

...

You pulled your bag off your shoulders, kneeling down and tugging your ice pick out of its strap holder. 

“No one will know, right?” you told the hare. It was just one hare. Even though leaving it was the logical thing to do, you couldn’t genuinely bring yourself to abandon this animal to die slowly and painfully while lodged in the ground. Besides, it was just one hare, wasn’t it? And it wasn’t like it had been caught by a predator, or something. It must’ve got its foot caught by accident; this was simply a terrible stroke of bad luck. If you freed it, it could go on to be eaten by a fox or wolf. Better that than to just die and freeze solid.

Using your ice pick, you carefully went behind the completely still creature. You were impressed by its dedication to stay totally still even when you were close enough to potentially reach out and stroke its fur. You had to be careful it didn’t spin around and bite you - you gently chipped away at the ice, extremely cautious not to catch its tiny bony leg. The entire time you dug, the hare was as still as the ice itself, unable to shake its instinctive need to stay small.

It really didn’t take long at all. A few careful draws of the sharp end of your axe against the compacted ice... and suddenly, like a gunshot going off, the animal sprinted away from you. Its powerful legs sent up a spray of snow, some of which went straight into your eyes - by the time you staggered to your feet, hurriedly wiped your face, sputtered and looked back up again, the hare was completely out of sight.

... Well. That was definitely a story to tell. You sighed, grabbing your bag and hoisting it back over your shoulder. At least -

- splashing?

Your head snapped toward the sea, in the direction of the sound. Against the total silence of the icy glassy sea, the splashing was loud, loud enough for you to hear it several metres away from the beach. It sounded frantic, almost aggressive. What the hell? What was going on today? You pushed your hearing protection onto your head, and half-ran-half-jogged toward the shoreline. The bare rock, grass and drifts of stubborn snow sloped away into loose pebbles that crunched and slid underfoot, mirrorlike water lapping slowly at the tide line only a few metres away. Lumps of ice, mini-glaciers of their own, floated silently and ominously by. This was water that would easily kill you if you fell in.

You scanned the shoreline, searching visually for the source of the noise you’d heard only moments ago - and soon you caught movement in the corner of your eye, just around a ‘corner’ caused by a rocky outcropping that jutted up a little higher than the rest of the landscape. Behind the outcropping, you could see large ripples spreading out, fast and random like something was fighting just behind where you could see. It was easy to pick up, considering the rest of the shoreline was so millpond still. 

Immediately, you jumped into action, running across the pebbled beach and scrambling up and onto the rock face. You weren’t even sure what you were expecting to see. Was it a person in distress?

... Except you could instantly tell it wasn’t a person, when the hidden section of the beach came into view, and you immediately saw a massive sleek outline that was easily twice as big as a person. It was for sure some kind of animal. But it took you a few crucial seconds of mind-whirring confusion to figure out what it was.

... Oh my stars. You ducked slightly, as if that would help.

It was a skeleton orca siren. A huge one. Partially beached, right there on the shore.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. All the breath left your chest at once. An skeleton orca siren, right before your eyes, bigger than you ever could’ve imagined, arching white markings and strong bones unmarred by any scars that could show a loss. Its sockets were sharpened with frustration - its body was against the shore at an angle, you could tell from how its tail was still able to cause those waves that the sea probably deepened extremely suddenly. It was thrashing, clawed hands digging into the ground, the force of its thrashing sending up showers of both stone and sea. 

Your breaths were controlled. The closest you had ever gotten to seeing a siren before was spotting their distant tiny shapes breaching near your boat, or the blurry low-quality images from underwater cameras. You’d never seen one in person so close you could touch it.

Clearly, you weren’t all that sneaky. Its rounded skeletal face whipped around, and razor-like white eyelights in pitch dark sockets landed on you.

Both of you were the rabbit this time. You froze, all your hair standing on end, nerves prickling. The siren froze too, waves stopping, it glared your way. At least... you felt like it was glaring. It was impossible to tell, its skeletal features were devoid of any of the usual emotional tells you relied upon. Whatever it was thinking, it was definitely staring, claws curling into the ground. Just its arms, twice the thickness of yours, could almost definitely snap your body in half.

Man. Chills spread across your whole body. Good fucking thing you put your hearing protection in, huh? 

You took a slow moment to take it all in. From the shape of the dorsal fin, you could tell it was male; male orca had a tall, almost triangular fin, while females had a much more sloped and curved appendage. Those sharp white eyelights cut into you, he was taking in you just as you took in him, clearly analysing every part of you. There was something so terrifying about his gaze - the eyes of a predator.

He watched you. He seemed... alert. Very very alert. 

...

Your heart was thundering in your ears, the only sound you could hear in your hearing protection. You unglamorously pulled yourself over the rock outcropping, scrabbling down it, and - against all advice you’d read before - approached.

He was beached. You had to at least see if you could help, right? It was one thing to have an inner battle about leaving a hare to die, it was another when the potential victim was a creature just as intelligent and sentient and aware as a person. He was laid at an angle, but still laid, the highest point of his back coming up to about your ribs. He had lost the advantage of movement. You nearly tripped over yourself as you moved closer, nervous feet skidding in the loose rocks.

... As you approached, he seemed to get... calmer? His eyesockets lost their sharpness, his eyelights grew in size. It was the opposite of what you anticipated. He wasn’t any less intimidating, though, no less scary. Your eyes kept darting to his teeth.

“How the hell did you manage to do this?” you asked, though you weren’t expecting a response, unable to hear even your own voice through the protection. “Where’s the rest of your pod, you dumbass?”

Was he smiling at you? Surely not. You dropped your bag to the floor, a few feet from him, digging through it until you pulled out your thick waterproof overclothing. Some other items tumbled out as you removed the gear but you paid them no mind. The waterproof outfit was like a boilersuit, it could be put on over the top of your other items and zipped to create a (theoretically) waterproof layer. Normally, it was a pain in the ass to get on, but you felt that you were on a time crunch and had somehow manifested almost superhuman speed.

You zipped up the suit, now protected in case you got wet. The closer you moved to him, the more you wished you had time to stop and fully admire him. The water on his bones and skin made him almost appear like he was shimmering. 

“... Ok,” you said, despite not being able to hear your own words, “easy big guy. Don’t bite. I’m just trying to help. I’ll get you back in the sea, and then I’ll go back to the land, and we can go on our way.”

He didn’t say anything. Because of course he didn’t, he was a siren, why did that thought even cross your mind? You blinked and shook your head, as if dispelling the thoughts physically. Of course he couldn’t talk. Something about his face felt so intelligent, somewhere deep down you had seemingly decided he could understand every word you said. And even if he did speak, it wasn’t like that’d be of any use to you. 

Something about him was eerily calm, even as you moved around him, coming close enough to his side to be within touching distance. Surely, a stranded creature like him would be thrashing and fighting when you came nearer, just like the hare? Surely he’d be making angry, earsplitting sounds that you’d be able to feel in your chest? The wind was picking up, tussling your hair. The siren stayed perfectly calm. 

“... I’m... I’m gonna need to touch you. Ok?”

...

... You reached out, and traced his skin with the tips of your fingers, extremely gently. It was cold. You immediately pulled back, turning and watching his face.

You expected something. Anything. A jump, a twitch, a lurch. Maybe even an attempt to fight you off. You expected him to swing around; hell, you expected him to even look at you. Any kind of a measurement of his reaction to you. Your legs were itching to leap back and flee.

But there was... nothing. No response from him at all. 

You came in again, this time putting your palm against his back, just beside his fin. It felt like electricity was running up your arm.

Nothing. Like he didn’t even care you were there. He was looking over his shoulder at you with a bizarrely soft look. Like he wanted you there. You felt very, very strange. This wasn’t at all what you were thinking would happen.

It felt like such a naive thing to even consider, but maybe... maybe he knew you were trying to help? 

Well, you didn’t have time to ponder the implications or reasons. You knew he was alright with physical contact. Now, you needed to figure out a way to get him back into the water.

You started by trying to pull - it only made sense, right? It kept you away from his front half, where the damage could be done. You looped your hands around the strong muscular base of his fin, using it like an anchor, digging your feet into the stones and throwing your whole weight backward. There was an extremely faint rocking of his body, literally about as much movement as someone trying to pull a car and only succeeding in making it bounce. Unperturbed, you tried again, pulling as hard as you could -

- the loose stones slid out from beneath your shoes. It kicked up the smell of wet seaweed and salt; if you hadn’t had your hands on his fin, your legs would’ve gone out from under you.

“Fuck,” you said breathlessly.

Did the siren laugh? Your head whipped around, he was looking ahead again. You felt like you saw his body move. 

... It must’ve been some other kind of vocalisation. You stood and turned around, trying again, this time pushing with your hands braced against the same spot. You pushed as hard as you could, nearly forgetting to breathe out, feeling your shoulders and wrists starting to twinge in pain. 

Once again, before you could make any meaningful progress, the force of your body made the slippery stones dislodge. You stumbled, all but falling flat onto his back, regaining yourself last minute and turning and looking over your shoulder at the siren’s head. 

“You just gonna sit there and stare at me?” you asked, breathless and only half joking.

He was looking back. You really really got the feeling he was smiling at you. 

You tried to push again, since it felt more solid than pulling. Yet everything you tried, the stones dislodged. The ground itself was fighting you. Frustrated, you dug your boot into the stones, trying to dig down and see if there was sand underneath, but there was just more and more loose wet rocks. Like the beach was making fun of you.

... Wait.

You thought back to the hare. Chipping at the ice around its leg.

You let go of him, scurrying back to your bag, then returning just as quickly with your pick in hand. The siren cast you a questioning glance, but still did absolutely nothing to stop your nonsense. Quickly, you dropped to your knees by his side, holding the pick by the head and jamming the wooden handle into the pebbles around where his tail met the floor. They came loose, of course.

You dug fast, using big scooping motions to pull the rocks out further each time. When you found a particularly large and difficult stone you flipped the pick and used the sharp edge to hoist it out of the ground. Seawater would occasionally slip into the gap you’d made, as the tide made the most minute waves you’d ever seen.

Excitedly, you ran around the siren, to dig on the opposite side. You didn’t notice how you ran perfectly within range of his arms, yet you dropped to his other side unharmed.

Your knees hurt. You were certain they’d be bruised. But you kept digging, and digging. You weren’t really doing anything more complex than making a ramp underneath him - but you were excited and flushed nonetheless, tired muscles full of hopeful vigour.

Suddenly, his tail splashed, you felt his whole body moving like an earthquake. You jumped away as far as you could, this time successfully falling flat on your ass - just like that, the siren drew away from you, moving backward into the water as he regained his grip and pushed himself. You were shocked by the speed and agility with which his huge body turned... and how he almost instantly disappeared, under the waves.

Holy shit, you thought, heaving, finally letting go of the pick as you stared out into the rapidly calming waters. It was like he’d never even been there. I actually... I actually did it. I just unbeached a siren. I...

Speaking of waves. Exhaustion, like a sudden tsunami, washed over you. Your shoulders sagged and your knees screamed in pain, you lifted your hands up to your face to see you had great crescents of red irritated skin on your palms. You were probably going to get blisters. 

... The cold started to finally twinge at your fingers. You managed to draw yourself up to your feet, but you flopped right back down to your knees once you made it to your bag. 

You opened it up, looking for your gloves, a lovely warm feeling filling your chest.

Amongst the dry kit, you saw your camera bag.

...

Wait. Your eyes widened.

... You forgot to take a picture. 

Welp - that was the lovely feeling gone. Immediately, you let out a frustrated shout, falling onto your back and putting your hands over your face. You forgot to take a picture. What a fucking moron! You’d just been closer than almost anyone ever to a massive orca siren, and you hadn’t even thought to get your camera out. He’d literally been a sitting duck, you could’ve photographed every side of him, every scar and mark, stars you could’ve filmed a segment for your channel. But the idea hadn’t even crossed your mind, you’d been so determined to save him. 

You’d probably never get another situation like this in your whole life. The universe threw the greatest possible chance at you. And you blew it.

... You dragged your hands down your face, staring up at the mottled sky. It wasn’t yet sunset, but you could tell the sun was beginning to inch toward it. If you wanted to film you’d have to do it right now.

...

... You couldn’t tell anyone back at the station about this. You folded your arm over your eyes. They wouldn’t believe you; they discover your ‘conspiratorial’ beliefs, tease you about it, you leave in a huff and then you conveniently come back a few hours later with an elaborate story about how you unbeached an adult orca siren? Yet strangely, you have absolutely no proof of the matter, despite having a camera on your person the whole time? You weren’t even sure if your followers would believe it. Sure, they’d believe you encountered a siren. But unlike what the rest of the world wanted to think, they absolutely weren’t stupid - they’d be hard pressed to believe you RESCUED the animal and didn’t think to record.

Eventually, you sat up. You were really and truly gutted. But there was no point fretting; not when you had daylight to use.

Might as well just get some of that B-roll.

///---///

Looking at the comments was always nice. When you weren’t busy, and couldn’t get outside, your second favourite thing to do was scroll through the comments on your videos. Of course you always got the occasional idiots who called you nuts, but those were few and far between, most were people being sweet or recounting their own experiences that you always read with complete rapture. 

You imagined some might find it hard to believe that being tucked up in your tiny warm station room was your second favourite activity. Walking around in the wind and cold was much more fun. But that, of course, didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy curling up on your desk chair with a blanket and a mug of tea while reading people’s encouraging responses to your passion projects.

You’d only posted your most recent video, the one about your siren encounter, about an hour ago. You scrolled, delighting in the serotonin that came with having an active comment section.

... Eventually, you came across a longer one that caught your eye. You paused sipping your tea to read it.

@bluesaphii1996

I grew up somewhere where we constantly see sirens in our waters. I absolutely believe you saw a siren, because I’m like 99% certain I can see a siren in the sea behind you at 14:51. Look just to the left of your shoulder, about 2/3s of the way between the beach line and the horizon. Its head pops up for a second before it rolls in the water and dives again. Either that or it's a VERY weird seal. But I’ve seen enough sirens to recognise their behaviour. That siren is 100% watching you when your back is turned. Be safe!!

...

You had to read the comment three times over. 

Huh? What? 

Immediately, sitting up and setting your mug aside, you clicked back over to your video and skipped to the timestamp in question. In that part of the video, you had set up your tripod, and you were talking to the camera with the sea behind you. You stared hard at the screen.

... You weren’t really used to looking at the ocean. You were pretty certain that someone who grew up by the sea would be a lot better at seeing strange movements in the water than you were. 

But sure enough, just like the commenter had said, you could just about make out a shape in the water. It broke the surface, then disappeared down again.

You had literally put your hands against that siren. You’d know it anywhere. That was definitely him; watching you from the water, many minutes after you’d rescued him and he could’ve swam far away. 

...

You sat back in your chair. You weren’t entirely sure how you were supposed to feel about that.

... Probably not excitement. 

You just couldn’t help it. A massive grin was spreading across your face. You were absolutely, utterly delighted.

Despite everything, you did get him on camera!

#commissions #hes a sneaky boy that one #not sneaky enough to not get stuck though apparently #calmest and nicest wild orca sans interaction

[caineinthecorner]

Language (The Demon Brothers)

★ Based on my language general hcs. Part 2 is here.

Hi. Today we have the demon brothers language hcs, brought to you by a single dumbass bilingual. :D

I include mentions of bilingual/multilingual MC, but I use the term MC and you interchangeably in the bullet points. It's the same thing who cares (you can also add whatever languages you think fit I am just going off vibes tbh)

★ Lucifer.

Since he was the strongest and highest ranked out of the brothers, his innate abilities were muddled the least.

This is to say that he remembers a lot from his innate knowledge as an angel, and can actually fare incredibly well on his own if you leave him in the human realm.

(the language he preferred back in his angel days was Archaic Latin, which is also Simeon's preferred language)

When Diavolo brought up the idea of the human exchange program he was like "(: ok" and binged human language for like two months straight like a total psychopath

He's like one of those fancy 10+ languages fluent polyglots (how)

Despite his fluency, it is rare to ever see him speak them. He has better things to do and prefers demon tongue.

Or if he does, the Loquar Ad Vos that was applied to you once you arrived in Devildom doesn't allow you to hear it.

You try to swear in your native language around him and oh boy it backfires

That is how you learn he's fluent in everything under the sun (exaggeration)

Frustrated, you grumble that you will learn demon tongue just to one up him

He takes it like a challenge. Enjoy reading a million books on the demonic language and having double the homework for your little joke.

(he gives you hard material to learn on purpose to see you fail. Enjoy hell buckoo. Double hell? Hell²)

You kept misspelling good morning in demon tongue as a demonic death threat and that somehow turned into an inside joke between the two of you.

He has to keep himself from chuckling whenever MC screws up words

Your accent is lovely though. Keep it up

★ Mammon.

Spanish and English.

Ok I actually can't justify myself further than "Mams would absolutely fucking go to Vegas" and the fact that USA has a large Latino population but hear me out

You cannot tell me that he would not watch telenovelas. Like. C'mon.

he has the vibes of a Spanish speaker is what I am saying

he was SO frustrated about having to learn human languages you have no idea

In fact he probably still struggles a bit and that makes him really mad

Why is it so complicated all of the sudden?! It wasn't complicated Before!

He unconsciously associates human languages with the trauma of the fall, and the stress and hurt and turbulent emotions it conveys

So learning new languages besides the two he knows is a touchy subject for him

(but like, he will learn MC's native language despite this. Whining to hell about it, but he will. Everything for MC)

You are actually very lucky that you have Loquar Ad Vos with you, bcs he actually switches from demon tongue to either English or Spanish mid sentence sometimes.

Not that you notice with your crusty translator (Loquar also works for human languages it supports), of course.

"Ayo can you [Spanish phrase], oh and give me a [English word], for a [spanglish nonsense]" <- Mammon's dumbass not functioning in trilingual

Also he has an accent but he's trying

The others are used to it so they don't question it anymore, but they deadass could not understand Mammon at some point because trilingual was not computing

It was frustrating to say the least

You two play charades with each other when the other forgets a word in your respective languages

"MC WHAT'S THE NAME OF THE ANIMAL FUCK THAT CHANGES HOME" "... Hermit crab?" "THATS THE BITCH"

★ Leviathan.

Japanese (very decent) and English (bad) are musts.

You cannot tell me for a second this fuck watches anime subbed OR dubbed. He's too weeb for that. He will watch the original dub version for the full emotional impact

He wanted to know what happens in the weeb world of the west (and internet discourse), so he learned English through shitty 2000s anime forums and Duolingo

Probably plays Duolingo competitively and/or cries if he loses his streak

His hearing and speaking English is okay, his writing is literally so so shit

Tried to learn a romantic language to be corny but failed miserably.

(He steered clear of languages his brothers know so he isn't self conscious)

It was probably Portuguese or something since Mammon kept talking about being good at figuring it out as a Spanish speaker (due to it being a romantic language)

The diacritical marks killed him on the spot

Meu português não é bom... (crying)

Victim of the you're* corrections

Runs his several-paragraphs-long rants about weeb stuff through Satan so the grammar is legit

Actually thinking about it would be absolutely fucking hilarious if he knew russian just for funsies. Yeah add Russian to the list

He sends you crusty Russian memes at unholy hours in the morning. Calls that bonding

Would absolutely swear in loud ass Russian while playing Valorant or smt

"ПИЗДЕЦ" "LEVI IT'S 2AM SHUT THE FUCK UP"

Ah + he knows Morse code (obviously). He was really excited when he discovered it and proceeded to obsess over it for like three weeks straight.

Although by the time he learned about it humans had already moved on from its wide-spead use at sea (post-1999), the Devildom Navy adapted Morse code for their own use as per Levi's command.

He teaches MC how to use Morse code (bashfully) and they send lil' messages to each other for fun

★ Satan.

He inherited a good chunk of Lucifer’s angel-knows-all-languages innate talents.

He doesn't have the angel knowledge of every language, of course, but he definitely has a really high count since birth; Unlike his brothers who had to relearn their languages of interest.

However, he can tell™ that the topic of languages is kinda taboo-y, as it signifies the traumatic fall he himself was not there to witness, and kept quiet about it.

The others (mostly) think he just learned languages in his free time.

He is the designated google translate person. When the other brothers need translations, they ask him.

He gets very frustrated when he has to translate something on the spot

Absolutely knows Chinese and Latin just to read fancy old human books and be a menace about it

He has a copy of the Art Of War in Chinese I will fight you on that

Actually he probably owns every important human book in its native language

Culprit of the you're* corrections

If he has to read another thesis-length essay abt weeb shit by leviathan he will actually lose his shit

You know the Voynich manuscript? He's probably trying to decode it for funsies.

If you and him (unfortunately) share a language, he will absolutely correct the living shit out of you when you speak it

Look me in the eyes and tell me he wouldn't "erm ACtuAllY" MC. You can't.

His ass does not understand slang. At all. You tell him See You Later Alligator and he'll be like "tf you smoking ಠಿ⁠_⁠ಠ?"

★ Asmodeus.

French. And Korean. Maybe very mid English.

Ok so french is the language of lOVe and whatever + Korea is known for their heavy beauty-focused culture

I can see Asmo definitely picking up Korean just for makeup and self care brands purposes.

Like it is easier to browse for products he wants if he can actually browse the original places/websites himself

It's just more convenient and he's actually very good at language learning

+ Korean it is a "cutesy" language so it fits his vibe.

Like he absolutely would go "안녕 teehee (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)" to look disarming is what I am saying

He flirts to hell with Solomon in French. It is a language they both know and isn't supported by Loquar for translation so nobody can snoop their conversations

If you have the misfortune of knowing French I am so sorry for you bcs they are NASTY

Solomon is teaching him English. Asmo fakes being bad at it on purpose

★ Beelzebub.

He knows a decent amount of English.

What does he use it for? Order food. Obviously.

In fact everyone kinda assumes he just knows a few food orders and that's it but no he's actually very decent at English (borderline fluent)

He learned through clunky conversation with small restaurant owners

Beel actually makes a great effort to enunciate every word clearly, so he doesn't like speaking long sentences

"Would you like Salsa with that, sweetheart?" "... Yes," <- Beel has no fucking clue wtf salsa is but it tastes good so who is he to defy food gods (a nice Mexican grandma with a killer Pozole) whom have blessed him

I also think he would probably know some kind of sign language

Fingerspelling maybe, solely because it allows him to talk while having his mouth full or bcs his games are loud and he can't hear words very well

That and, like, the Devildom equivalent of sign language. DSL or something.

Look at him. Absolute sweetheart. He would absolutely want to include deaf or hard of hearing ppl.

★ Belphegor.

Ok so

I am going to be very fr with you

I believe Belphie would be the only monolingual (demon tongue "native") of the brothers

at most he would remember a few phrases of a few languages from back when he was an angel, but not any specifics

Like this dude has ZERO interest in human culture I cannot think he would sit down to (re)learn anything

he would fall asleep trying to learn human verbs actually

He only knows how to tell you to fuck off on 4 languages (/hj)

None which you speak. So that's kinda awkward

He doesn't know how to cast Loquar (nor has any interest in learning how)

Beel casts it for him if he needs it

He can and will deadass just remove the translator spell from you if you try to annoy/interact with him (except if Beel is who casts it on you).

(so Beel now also casts Loquar for you)

Begone >:(

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date? #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me hcs #caineshcs

[luvring]

I'm completely obsessed with your Touchstarved headcanons, if it's not too much trouble, I was wondering if you could do headcanons of Ais falling in love with the reader/MC??

And maybe then do something similar to Vere, if it's not too much trouble

(sorry for my English)

AIS FALLING IN LOVE

gn!reader | it's almost valentine's day guys. THANK U!!! i'm glad u enjoy them ^___^ this got... long. but if u still want vere feel free to remind me and i'll probably make a post! ^^ i'm always inspired by these kinds of ideas...

it's more of a slow burn because he teases you but you brush it off as his personality rather than anything serious

he's intrigued by you! he finds your company entertaining if nothing else, or at least that's what he tells himself. whether you throw his banter back at him, or stutter at his quick flirtations, ais can't help himself from making up excuses to find you

one moment that sets an alarm off in his head is after he's gotten into some bar fight. the bruises and blood on his knuckles, scratch by his collarbone, and the way he winces when you touch his shoulder get your attention easily. he tells you he's fine, that he's dealt with worse, and that the other guy got totally knocked out, but you pull him along anyway to take care of him.

but ais hasn't had someone take care of his injuries in. a long time. so he's stiff and awkward despite your friendship at this point. his eyes follow your every move, and he doesn't even realize it until your eyes meet. you ask a simple "what?" and he tries to play it off by saying "nothing." ("you're cute when you worry." etc etc LOLL)

and you scold him, because seriously, can you just like, not get into fights. one day someone's going to break your nose or something, and then what? what're you going to do when you try to hit on someone and you're still recovering from a black eye?

you're saying it absentmindedly, making jokes to lighten the mood. but something about the way you carefully graze your fingers across his skin and bandage him gets ais Thinking. and it's really weird because he's silent, and he's never really silent when you try to joke with him, so you go quiet too, and now he's thinking even more, and have you always furrowed your brows like that when you're focused, have you ever been this close to him before?

i don't think i'd make this moment The moment of realization. it's sort of an introduction

other moments i can think of would be ais watching you get along with his pets, you catching him by surprise by fucking with him (some sort of prank), and the first time you guys are like, serious and sentimental for once.

. okay. the vere thing. fwb that got too close is different (in my opinion) to him just having an honest crush and wanting a relationship btw. the avoidance would be him not knowing what to do/being insecure rather than not wanting a relationship. in my mind at least.

ais with a crush is... Intentional. with the things he does. the signs he gives you. like from an outsider perspective, without your own insecurity or nervousness, it's Glaringly obvious.

more touchy. but he makes it casual and you start questioning it like ...? maybe he's just more comfortable with me because we're friends! (you're nervous because his arm is resting behind your head on the couch like woah) (doesn't move his leg away when your legs keep touching)

of course if you don't like physical touch his feelings would show up in different ways anyway. asking if you want to tag along to buy some things. remembering that book you bought and asking if you finally got around to reading it or if it's collecting dust on your shelf. or maybe it's moments where you ask him something about his past as a half joke, fully recognizing it isn't something anyone else really knows, and he tells you anyway.

still teases you though. obviously. you ask him to open your water bottle and he opens it then pretends to waterfall it into his mouth. takes a sip when you aren't looking but makes it really obvious he did when you look at him. at some point you knock on his door, ring the doorbell, call him, etc. and he takes like 5 minutes to finally let you in. and you're like what's your problem and he just shrugs like oh i didn't hear you (loser burnt his food and was trying to hide it + the smell before you saw)

anyway. i think ais falling in love is subtle moments that build up. glances that he doesn't turn away from when you make eye contact (he smiles and pretends like it's casual). teasing that's teetering on flirting, straight up flirting that for some reason doesn't get called out by you. him looking for you at the bar and relenting from a fight because you swear to god, you'll get such a huge headache, he'll be indebted to you for 3 weeks. him taking you home and making sure you feel alright in the morning.

and there's this tension because he knows, and you think you know, and he knows you've noticed (he isn't trying to hide it) but neither of you are saying anything about it and at some point someone's going to blurt out a confession and there's going to be a kiss and joke about How long that took and!!!

being in a relationship with him is basically what i've said. like you guys were already acting like it before you finally got him to say he wants to be your boyfriend LOL. just some pet names thrown in, official dates, no hesitation in affection you were scared about before

nia when do you think he'd say he loves you. ...! Haha. awesome question

realizing he loves you is easy enough. i can see different possibilities for that. at some mundane moment where he's watching you work on a hobby and explain it to him, or getting ready to go out and asking which outfit looks better.

orrr when you walk in on him doing a bit/prank and immediately play along without hesitation. when he witnesses you threatening/challenging some guy on his account (if you're the type to do that). no matter what, you ask him about it and he's kind of awkward because he thinks it sounds silly LOL

but saying i love you is different to realizing + showing it with his actions. That's where his hesitation sets in in my opinion. because he can be sure he does, be sure you love him, but saying it out loud isn't really something he's done before, and it's a sign this relationship is Serious y'know.

it's going to take...A While... if you wait for him to say it first. you're probably better off just asking to talk about it at that point, like, about your guys' feelings and saying i love you y'know. you can both promise to say it at the same time and then when neither of you say it accuse the other with "oh so you hate me?" before laughing and actually saying it! think about it. silly!

but if you say it that's different. maybe written in a card (he stares at it for a long time and debates what to do), casually while saying goodbye (he watches you leave and replays it in his head), saying it in an intimate setting (he stills and looks at you before smiling/laughing a little and commenting on how you beat him to it (he's grateful))

"love you" over "i love you" guy when it comes to casually saying it btw. also a big fan of annoying you, you saying "i hate you," and replying with "love you too."

sorry friends i have to stop here because my laptop is Quite Literally slowing down/lagging when i start typing atp in the post. somebody help me

@lost-lonnie @screaming-wea-sel @dreamtydraw @respitable @semifilms @hexcoeur @cvhenia @mitskiologist @leiiii-i @sweet-milky-tea705 @khalixvitae

#touchstarved #touchstarved game #ais x reader #ais #i cant tell if ive written something Really like this before or if ive reread it so many times ive tricked myself #....well.! a mystery. meow

[twsted-kinks]

Biology Nerd (Malleus X Yuu/Reader)

>minors and ageless dni<

MC/Reader goes by Yuu and gender neutral and fat (I don't really mention that but this is self indulgent and I'm fat so reader is fat)

Something kinda fluffy for once with a bit of spice and a dash of angst

Content Warning: cultural and biological differences, Yuu not knowing about cultural differences and doing romantic and sexual things with others, Malleus letting Yuu touch him inappropriately but Yuu doesn't understand that touching him like that is very intimate and/or sexual for fae/dragons, Malleus being absolutely smitten, some slight Malleus angst about him being lonely, Grim being scared, dragon cuddles

(I'm probably gonna write more spec biology stuff with twst but idk)

Yuu will be the first to say that suddenly being ripped from your home and put into a completely different world where everything you know no longer exists or applies to reality fucking sucks. But, Yuu will also admit that they love having a whole new world to learn about. Learning the basics of a whole knew evolutionary and sociological history with multiple sapient species that are both human and non human while having access to a full college library? Sign them the FUCK up! Crowley was thankful for Yuu's enthusiasm. Simply allowing full access to the library appeased them. Grim did not have fun at first, but having a human look at him in awe helped. Yuu was so curious about his ability to speak and his connection to fire magic. They would not stop asking him so many questions!

Yuu went around learning with wide eyes like a toddler. They at least knew not to just randomly touch people and that it's inappropriate to ask in the first place, but still, they would not stop staring. Leona, Ruggie, and Jack can constantly feel Yuu's eyes on their ears and tails. Leona gets annoyed and snaps at Yuu usually while Ruggie will let Yuu touch then in exchange for either money or food. Jack doesn't comment on it while Yuu does nothing to try to touch him, and Jack is happy to keep it that way.

Floyd and Jade find Yuu's reactions to them to be greatly entertaining. During their first interaction, all of Yuu's friends immediately ran, but Yuu stayed, just staring up at the twins.

"I like y'all's teeth." And with a few simple words, the tweels were glued to Yuu. Yuu is always excited to see their mer form, but will gladly settle on hanging out with the tweels when they got legs. Yuu also enjoys being on teeth cleaning duty. They get to look at cool sharp teeth and a second jaw. They also get free food from the twins, and all they got to do is clean some teeth? Hell yeah! Azul could inform Yuu about what Floyd and Jade opening their mouths means for eel mer culture, but this little arrangement keeps the two out of trouble. Plus, Azul is afraid Yuu will go on a question asking tangent and will ask about Azul's mer form, and he does not want to deal with that.

The species and cultures Yuu knows the least about is the fae. Yuu honestly didn't even notice that fae were a thing until Ace pointed out the ppinty ears, and Yuu just went :o "Holy shit" :D "That's so cool!" Then there was Yuu's first time meeting Malleus. Should Yuu be more concerned about a stranger just wandering around outside their dorm? Yes, but he has HORNS! The first words spoken between the dragon fae and little magicless human were:

"Wow, your horns are pretty."

Malleus was taken aback by this human, just talking to him casually, complimenting his horns, and smiling at him with so much wonder. Even though Malleus never gave his name, his friendship with the human grew fast. Yuu came up with a multitude of names for Malleus, having a new one each time they met. Horton, Sir Hornington, Goth Babe, Briar Boy, Fae Bae, and more, but a few reoccurring ones Malleus adores. Malmal is the most recent iteration of his name that has stuck around the longest. But,, whenever Malleus visits Yuu upset, Yuu always calls him sweetie and tries to comfort him. It's gotten to a point that the Yuu always keeps a tub of ice cream in their freezer specifically for when Malleus is upset.

Malleus always knew Yuu had an interest in the different cultures and species of the Twisted Wonderland, but he didn't understand just how fascinated you were until the time for Halloween came and Yuu saw Malleus's tail for the first time. Malleus remembers it clearly. Yuu stopped a couple feet away from him, gasped, and then screamed "CHONKY TAIL!!!" The human immediately went behind Malleus, started admiring his tail, and asked so many questions. One of them being if they can touch it, and he let you, much to the dismay of Sebek who was trying to get Yuu to be more respectful. Lilia was the only one to pick up on the blush on Malleus's ears. Yuu did mistake Malleus's tail as a part of the costume, not realising it was actually a part of him at first, and apologized, but Malleus assured you it was alright and that the can keep touching his tail. He didn't mind at all.

Now, Malleus almost abuses the admiration Yuu has for his tail. Lilia, Sebek, and Silver absolutely notice his tendency to approach them and, if they were focusing on something that isn't him, Malleus will fwip out his tail and Yuu would become entranced. Yuu just adores Malleus's tail and, whenever given the chance, will touch it, pet it, even just hold it. Malleus finds it endearing and adorable.

And well, Yuu already has permission to touch his tail, why not ask Malleus if they can learn more about his anatomy? Yuu asks to touch Malleus's horns one day. Yuu’s already stepped over the line with touching his tail, so why not let Yuu touch his horns? Malleus has now turned into Yuu's personal lapcat much to Grim’s dismay. Malleus has gifted the human with a kit for horn cleaning and visits Ramshackle regularly so he can rest his head in Yuu’s lap and have them clean his horns. Yuu is pretty sure Malleus dirties his horns on purpose just so they wil clean them, but they don't mind.

One day though, during the weekend, Yuu invites Malleus over for a full-blown sleepover. Malleus is ecstatic and quickly informs his entourage. Sebek is fully against it while Lilia and Silver think this wil be good for Malleus, though Silver wants the three of them to tag along as well. It takes some convincing, but Lilia convinces the other to let Malleus have his alone time with the child of man. Malleus packs his essentials and teleports to Ramshackle to find the prefect and Grim gathering pillows and blankets, getting materials ready to build a pillow fort.

Malleus has an absolute blast. Such simple games and activities he’s never experienced before, Malleus enjoys it all. Everything is going smoothly, Malleus is relaxing, face cuddled into Yuu’s chest. A moving picture plays on the human’s little screen device while Grim snores as he sleeps on a pillow twice his size. Yuu is petting Malleus's hair, running their fingers through it when they pause at his bangs. They shift the hair covering his forehead and gasps.

“You got scales there?” Yuu says in astonishment as they study the black scales on Malleus's forehead.

“Hm? Have you not seen them before now?” Malleus asks.

“I guess I haven't.” Yuu runs their fingers across the scales. “They're pretty. I'm surprised you don't have more scattered around.”

“Oh, I do, but I find others are less intimidated when they're hidden. My clothing preferences hide a majority, but I also utilize magic to hide some of the more obvious ones.”

“But they're so pretty!” Yuu whines but then backpedals. “I mean- If you feel more comfortable hiding them then go ahead, but I bet they're very pretty.”

“Glamor is common among the fae. Changing my skin takes little effort and is of little consequence.”

“You mean your makeup?”

“It is similar to that, yes.”

“Huh, well it's your face.” Yuu shrugs. “You can do want you want, but I bet you look cute with your scales out.”

And with that, the fae leans up and parts of his face shift, revealing small scales around his outer eyes, below and behind his ears, and along the back and sides of his neck. Yuu stares at Malleus, making the fae worry for a moment, until, suddenly, the human’s hands are on Malleus's cheeks.

“Holy shit!” Yuu squees as they look over Malleus's face. “How the fuck did you make yourself prettier!”

The dragon fae’s eyes are wide for a moment, the tips of his ears a light pink, and then he chuckles. “You are truly unique, child of man.”

“Me?” Yuu laughs. “You're the one with scales here! Just- look at how the light refracts off of them! They look black, but then the light bounces off and parts of them look purple!”

“Oh?” Malleus has never noticed that before.

“You even got little ones here too!” One of Yuu’s hands moves to Malleus's ear, fingers tracing the shell.

Malleus freezes then gulps. Yuu’s fingers run up the edge of his ear, pauses at the top, then runs back down to his lobe. Malleus buries his face back into Yuu’s chest. The tips of Malleus's ears burn red, he hopes Yuu doesn't notice.

“Ah, shit.” Yuu pulls their hand away. “Do you have sensitive ears? I should've asked.”

“It’s alright.” Malleus pulls away slightly and murmurs. “It felt nice. I do not mind you touching my ears.”

“You sure?”

“I would like for you to continue.” Malleus says with a thump coming after when his tail hits the floor.

“What? Want me to massage your ears and tail?” Yuu asks with a chuckle. “Need me to get your back too?”

“Yes, that should be adequate.”

Yuu laughs, brings both of their hands to Malleus's ears, and begins to rub them. Malleus lets out a deep sigh as he practically melts under the human’s touch. Yuu continues rubbing the dragon falls ears and and coos "If you want me to get your back, you're gonna need to move."

"No." Malleus hums into Yuu's chest. "Ears now. Focus on my ears."

"Alright, alright." Yuu chuckles. What Yuu doesn't know is just how intimate this is for fae. Touching a fae's ears is considered a very intimate activity done between mates because their ears are a major erogenous zone. At this point, Malleus isn't sure about his relationship with Yuu, but Yuu touching his ears feels right to him. The fae's eyes dilate as his breathing becomes heavier the more Yuu touches his ears. The end of Malleus's tails lightly thumps onto the floor again and again.

"I don't get it." Yuu moves one of their hands into Malleus's hair and runs their fingers down to feel the scales on his neck. "I don't get how people can be so scared of you when you're basically an oversized puppy but reptilian."

A deep vibration grumbles from Malleus's chest and he lifts himself up, facing Yuu. The whites of his eyes have turned a glowing green and more scales have appeared encasing most of his neck and shoulders. The thin tips of a forked tongue poke out from and slip back into his mouth.

Yuu cups both of Malleus's cheeks in their hands and smiles. "Just a big adorable boy."

The sound of ripping fabric startles Yuu for a moment as black wings begin to tear their way from the back of Malleus's night shirt and spread open. Yuu looks at them, eyes wide, as they reach out and touch the leathery skin.

"You are truly extraordinary, child of man."

"Says the man who just sprouted wings in front of me."

"But you do not look at me with fear. You do not look at me with an otherworldly reverence. When you look at me you..." Malleus rests his hand over the one against his cheek.

"Malmal." Yuu's face shifts to a look of worry. "You okay? You can talk to me if you want."

Malleus gazes at Yuu. There' so much he wants to say, but he hesitates.

"But-" Yuu adds. "If you don't feel like talking now, we can just keep cuddling, or do you want me to massage your tail? Or maybe your wings?"

Malleus smiles. "I would enjoy that."

~~Meanwhile~~

"Hornton is gonna kill my henchman!" Grim runs on all four into the Diasomnia dorm, screaming at the top of his lungs. He quickly gains the attention of some dorm members including Sebek and Lilia (who drags a sleeping Silver behind him).

"How dare you use such a name for the Young Master!" Sebek is screaming back. Silver finally wakes up from all of the screaming, so him and Lilia get Grim and Sebek to stop screaming and have Grim finally explain why he's there.

"I heard a ripping sound and woke up to see big wings and a pair of glowing eyes on top of my henchman. That prince of yours is going to eat them!"

"Oh?" Lilia coos with a smirk. "I don't think that will be happening, at least not the type you're thinking. Still, I have not had the talk yet with that boy, so maybe we should drop by before we're stuck with a political crisis."

With a quick teleportation spell, all four are just outside the Ramshackle Dorm. The door is slammed open to reveal a dragon (that is way too big to be in the common area) curled up, sleeping like a cat, with a little human laying across his snout and forehead, passed out with a smile on their face.

#twst writings #twst x reader #twst malleus #malleus x reader #malleus x yuu

[btdemaru]

hiiiyaaa! just found your blog, and im already obsessed 🤭 the theme is so cute too like wtf 🔛🔝 anyways i was wondering how the obey me brothers would react to an mc who’s very very good at giving massages! idk what it is but im very good at giving them so i wonder how they’d react to that 😭 again, super obsessed with ur blog and ur work <3

Obey me! Mc giving good massages to the brother's

note : thank u omg i just love pink tbh and i couldn't find any soft pink theme but im so glad you love my theme now 💕. AND THANK U AGAIN for suggesting this cause i need more idea juices for them [lipbite].... Gn!mc.

Warning : oiled up (not all), Might be ooc, if there's a misspelling/typo's I'm sorry, but mostly fluff cause idk if u wanted smut or not so enjoy

Lucifer

He will definitely resist it at first- the avatar if pride? The eldest?? A massage??? Do you think he's tired and overworked ?? [Yes]

But eventually gives in and lays down on the bed, i think he'd prefers clothes on or maybe just a t-shirt so that when you're done giving him the massage he can get back to work again

He's wrong 💀. Five minutes into the massage Lucifer's eye was starting to get droopy and heavy but he tried not to sleep

I think his back has alot of knots especially around his shoulder

If you knead/massage that part he'd probably slip out some groans or at least a satisfied noises

"i have no time for that, it'll only waste my time and i need to finish a few more-" before Lucifer could finish you tug his arm trying to drag him to the bed. He looks at you before sighing "fine, but i don't need this." Proceeds to lay down on his chest while he buried his face into the pillow.

You gently pressed your palms against his juicy broad shoulders before putting pressure on the tight knots "haaah.." he accidentally let out a satisfied sigh "oh? Seems like you're enjoying this after all!" Hearing you say that Lucifer went silent but still enjoys it, slowly drifting to sleep.

When you're done he's already too relaxed and knocked out at this point "hello? Earth to Lucifer! Were done here.. much better right?". No response at all from the mighty prideful demon below you, slowly with struggle you move him so he's laying on his back to find a peaceful look on his face as it was evident that he's definitely tired.

Mammon

Probs after you massage him once he'd want more some other time

Barges into your room after a 'tiring' day of having complaints and being chased for his debt just to ask for a massage

If you say no he'd look at you with puppy eyes while whining and pestering you about how shitty his day was

You (ofcourse) give in and he starts to take his jacket off leaving him in his white shirt smiling sheepishly at you before his back faces you

Mammon sighs in content as he immediately melts and relax into your touch, leaning more and more as he's starting to get a little too greedy for your touch. You pulled away only for him to gasp and turn over dramatically "hey why'd you do that? I thought the massage was-" you quickly cut him off "oh hush and let me do it properly and stop leaning all your weight towards me or lay down!" You spoke as he pouted and lay down on your bed.

He talks and talk about his day while you apply pressure on his muscles

Slowly he yawns and at the end of the session he sits up and thanked you before his eyes closes... now you have a sleepy eepy mammon

Leviathan

You cant tell me that he's not playing his video games most of the times or watching stuff to the point where his posture is BAD

And him sleeping in a bathtub doesn't help at all

He secretly has been wanting to ask for a massage from your for quite awhile but never really got the courage to ask even if you're close!

If you suggested it tho he wouldn't decline at all and just let you do your thing

You should probably tease him to take his hoodie off and just go shirtless to see how red he can be

"are you sure about the.. shirtless part?" He's still unsure but does it anyway since you're more experienced. What he didn't expect was a massage oil dripped onto his back from his shoulders all the way to his hip as you softly rubs it, making him jolts out of shock. "Wait wait wait w-what even was that?!" He looks at you "it's just an oil, relax."

He struggled to relax as he kept moving and wriggling slightly made you a little bit annoyed before gripping his waist and sits on his ass area so he doesn't move.

Levi's eye fluttered as your hand works magic on him, from his neck slowly moving down his shoulders and so on.

After you're done his face was less flushed as he thanked you and asked if he could ask for more in the future

Satan

He would probably droop himself over your shoulder fully dropping his whole weight onto your back

Nuzzling Into your neck before finally asking if you can massage him as his back was hurting from reading

If you accepted he'd happily lay down next to his cats (the one where he totally didn't sneak in)

He dimmed the light in the room and lays back down while he impatiently waits for you to begin

"just for a couple of minutes.. my back is killing me already" he said as he lays on his chest while slowly stroking the sleeping cat next to him "fine fine" after you spoke, you started to do your massage.

Satan couldn't help but melts and groans at the pleasure as the pressure on his back was slightly going away from your delicate but precise hands

Let's say 20 minutes has passed and you pull away thinking that satan is asleep and that you can stop, but as you do that his arms pulled you in again wanting for more "just ten more minutes- it feels so good.." well ten more minutes it is! (I cant say no to him)

Asmodeus

He's the one who sets up all these heart candles with flowery smell and assorted massage oil for you to choose

Asmo lured asked nicely for you to give him your perfect and heavenly massages

He'll even ask to give you a massage in return (it'll turn into more)

Loves the way your hand roams around and all over his body

Oh and asmo probably will go butt naked only with a towel to cover his ass

You gave in to him since he made the efforts of already setting the mood with pretty scented heart candles and bought the massage oil

When you start to carefully massage his neck, he's going to be loud and wouldn't mind if anyone outside his room hear him, slowly working down to his back Asmo is amazed of how good you are "where did you learn this? It feels so good~" he nuzzle back to his pillow after talking.

After you're finish, he'll insist to give you a massage in return so if you accept that then don't be suprised if his hands roam around places on your body slightly squeezing it (he'll ask tho) and perhaps more than just a massage

Beelzebub

You'd give him massages a few hours after his workout sessions

Loves the way your hands move all over his muscular body and would be a happy boy if you provided small snacks after

This is just a guess of mine but i think it'll be kinda hard? Like you'd need to put more pressure on him than the other's cause his muscles are hard

Aside from the back side, feel free to give him arm massage as well

Beel will stare at you when you're kneading his sore arm muscle, a small smile was shown on the corner of his lips and he leans back.

"you brought snacks..right?" He looked around the room and on the bed to find anything he van chew on "I'll give it to you after the massage so be patient." Beel actually did what you said and waited til the end of the massage

Gently rub his arms with a warm towel after pls he likes it.

After that he'd probably embrace you while he's eating the snacks and just enjoy how fuzzy n relaxed he feels and glad that you accepted his cuddles

Belphegor

He wouldn't ask for it in words, belphie would just tug your shirt and pat his back signaling he wants you to start massaging him

Loves LOVES when you give him scalp massages and gives his face kisses afterwards

Eventually will fall asleep but who's suprised atp lmfao

You better give him snuggles and cuddles when you're done cause i like to think he's abit clingy

Belphie pats his back as you guys were watching a movie "you want a massage like- right now?" You said while only getting a nod from the demon next to you, quickly gets in between your body and lays on your stomach as he waits for you to start "...hurry" belphie kept nuzzling his head on your hands as you sigh and starts to gently massage his head

Working your way across his scalp to cover all areas. Trying to massage his scalp using your fingertips for at least 5 minutes before small snores are starting to come out of belphie's lips, he would say it from time to time about how good of a massage you give and how much he enjoys it.

#obey me x mc #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me #obey me fluff #obey me drabble #obey me dateables #obey me brothers #obey me x gn!mc #leviathan headcanons #leviathan x mc #lucifer x mc #mammon headcanon #mammon x mc #lucifer headcanons #lucifer fluff #fluff #leviathan fluff #mammon fluff #satan x mc #om! satan #om! mammon #om! lucifer #om! leviathan #satan fluff #satan headcanons #asmo x reader #asmo obey me

[rosewaterandivy]

Summary: it’s always the best laid plans of mice and men, isn’t it?

Pairing: s.h. x f!oc

W.C.: 5.4K

Warnings: gilded age!au, miscommunication, a comedy of errors/manners, society snobs, a masquerade ball mishap, arranged marriage, steve ‘down bad’ harrington, and a reader/mc who doesn’t have time for this shit - she was educated abroad, she went to Vassar with Miss Nancy Wheeler, okay?!, back on my iliad bullshit (i know, i know)

playlist | m.list

I. Coup de foudre

It’s a dreary December evening in Manhattan. The streets are damp and slick accompanied by the cacophony of hooves, equipages and carriages trundling down the way. Somber topcoats and fur-trimmed capes hide the tailored waistcoats of the men and ornate skirts of the ladies, as is to be expected with the current onslaught of weather. 

Small white flurries of snow that are sure to bring a swift end to laborious dinners and engagements at the club. And the man in the sleek black equipage himself is all too relieved about it— at least he would be released from the obligation of hearing his father’s friends complain about these upstart robber barons descending like a horde of locusts on Fifth Avenue.

A quiet night in his study would be a welcome distraction.

That is, if they can ever get home in this weather.

He can hear the whinny of the horses from up front and the soothing tones of the driver. The streets are probably close to icing over at this hour, making it difficult to find traction. 

Suddenly, the equipage swings quickly to the side and careens into something with a loud thud, sending its sole occupant straight into the door with a smack. He hisses lowly at the twinge in his forehead as the driver descends with a flurry of apologies.

He opens the door himself and steps outside before the driver can assist him. The white puffs of his breath speak to how quickly the weather had turned. He draws his coat closer and approaches the two drivers as they attempt to settle the horses.

“Gentlemen,” He greets, “What seems to be the problem?”

“Noting to worry about Mr. Harrington,” His man, Andrew, assures him, “The ice just snuck up on us is all.”

He nods taking in the damage, dents and scuffs on both vehicles but the horses appear to be fine. Reaching into his coat pocket, he brings out a small notebook and a pencil to scribble his information down for the other driver. Is about to tell the man to bill him directly when someone steps out from the carriage opposite.

The footsteps themselves are delicate and tentative. He tears his gaze from the driver’s, glancing back only to find a young woman emerging from the carriage. She’s holding her skirts in one gloved hand, shivering in the cold. 

“Is everything all right Jesse?”

Her voice is like music to his ears, melodic almost. And she looks like something stolen from a painting— bright and alluring.

The winter light is quickly fading, and the lamplighters were sure taking their time this evening. Her cape is dark, like his coat, but the split at the front reveals a purple skirt trimmed in demure black lace, signifying an exit from her period of mourning. 

Her man, Jesse, shepherds her back toward the coach, “Let’s get you back inside Miss, don’t want you to catch a chill.”

“Of course,” She says with a shake of her head, “How silly of me.”

And before Steve can embarrass himself in an attempt to introduce himself, she’s safely ensconced back in the carriage. Her driver returns and takes the paper from Steve, tucking it into his coat.

“Apologies gentlemen, but I must be on my way.” He pulls himself back onto the driver’s box, “Have to get the young Miss home to her brother’s, you understand.”

He tips his hat, and with a tug of the reins he’s gone.

Steve finds himself standing right where she left him, feet riveted to the very spot where she once stood. He must have taken a step toward her at some point, like an utter madman, probably startled the poor girl half to death.

Despite their disastrous non-meeting, he can’t seem to shake her from his mind. As if everything had been in black and white until she stepped down from the carriage and breathed color into his world, spring bursting forth at the sound of her voice. It sounds positively insane, even to himself, but if Robin were here, she’d understand.

Hell, she’d probably have a word for it too. 

Something French, inevitably.

“Mr. Harrington,” Andrew says, a hand tentatively resting on his shoulder, “Is something wrong?”

Steve blinks; a feeble attempt to clear his mind from thoughts of the mystery woman.

Andrew refrains from rolling his eyes, “Right sir, let’s get you home then.”

The journey back to the Harrington family manse was uneventful. The familiar brownstone facade came into view as Andrew swung the equipage onto the street outside the house. Luckily, the home was large enough that his late arrival wouldn’t be noticed. 

He thanks Andrew and watches as he takes off with the horses for the carriage house a few blocks away. Stepping into the house, he makes quickly for his study slipping through the door just as one of the maids turns down the corridor.

Steve shucks his coat onto a nearby chair and tugs off his cravat with one hand, the other pouring a healthy portion of bourbon into a highball glass. He downs the amber liquid too quickly, the burn welcome against his throat. 

After pouring another glass to sip from, he settles into a heap on a club chair by the window. Resting his jaw on a hand, he faces the glass panes, eyes trailing the flurries of snow outside, unsettled by the quiet of the street. His mind won’t stop racing, vacillating between kicking himself for not getting her name and hoping he’d run into her again, albeit this time under better circumstances.

Little did he know, that several blocks away a man was questioning poor Jesse about his whereabouts when a slip of paper was placed into his hand. He scans it quickly, face paling at the name scrawled there: Steven Harrington.

“How could you let this happen Jesse, really? The accident, I understand, but allowing my sister out of the carriage unaccompanied?”

“Sir, I had no—”

“I’ll not hear your excuses.” Christopher Fairchild balls his hand into a fist, the paper crumpling in his grasp. “You said he saw her, Harrington, that is?”

“Unfortunately,” Jesse admits, “I intervened as best I could and got her back into the coach. He seemed rather transfixed by her.”

His employer grunts, “Yes well, that is unfortunate. What if someone had seen her with that man, no chaperone in sight?” He turns to the sideboard and pours himself a drink, says with a scoff, “Not even out to society and potentially scandal-ridden.”

At this point, his wife, Marian, chooses to enter, having seen the young lady to her rooms and getting her settled for the evening. She places a tentative hand on his shoulder while Jesse trains his gaze to the floor.

“Darling,” She soothes, “Your sister is asleep as is the baby, don’t get yourself into a fit at this hour.”

He sighs as her palm moves in slow circles against his back and takes deep breaths. “Of course dear,” He sips from his drink and turns to her. “I just worry about her. All the work you’ve put into her debut and planning the ball.” Christopher places a kiss on the back of her hand, causing her to blush. “I don’t want it to be all for naught.”

She sighs prettily. 

“It won’t be,” Marian advises, “You’ll write to the Harringtons tomorrow and we’ll get this matter settled. And there won’t be a speck on your dear sister’s reputation, I’ll see to that.”

But, oh dear reader, where would be the fun in that? 

As we all know, the New York winter season is winding down rapidly, and do we not deserve something to keep us warm over the holiday? I would say so! 

So, in honor of her long-awaited arrival, let us give a hearty New York welcome to Miss Eleanor Fairchild! Fresh from the society of Paris and a graduate of Vassar along with Miss Nancy Wheeler, her debut this week is the talk of the town. 

Despite her indecorous brush with Mr. Steven Harrington, I am sure she will not have a shortage of suitors after the ball this weekend. 

But the question remains, my loyal readers, of who will take a shine to Miss Fairchild and step out from the long shadow cast by the Harrington name? 

Only time, and this weekly missive, will tell.

Morning in New York was startling and nothing like waking in Paris.

House maids, lady’s maids, and valets moving up and down the stairs, knocking on doors to air out the linens and draw the curtains aside to let the murky winter sun stream through. There was, of course, the soft babbling from the nursery as Gus woke from his repose, the nursemaid and his mother close at hand.

A sharp knock sounded from the door just as you drew the bedclothes closer to you, content to roll over and sleep through the gray morning.

“Bonjour mademoiselle, vous permettez?”

“Oui!” You say, curious at the chipper voice now opening the door, “Sorry, yes, you may enter.”

“Merci, mademoiselle.”

The girl, your new lady’s maid, softly shuts the door and turns to regard the room.

It’s certainly larger than what you’d grown accustomed to in France. But then again, most everything was in New York, especially so since you hadn’t returned to the city in well nigh on a year or more.

The room itself is well-appointed and elegant, Marian saw to that; soft colors and fabrics, diaphanous and frothy, a subtle nod to Versailles no doubt. You hadn’t had much time or energy to give it a glance last night, more inclined to have a late dinner, divest yourself of traveling clothes, and pass out as soon as possible.

The lady’s maid continues her silent assessment as another knock sounds from the door. She steps to open it and let in the housemaid.

“Good morning Miss,” She greets with a smile, her voice rounded with a warm Irish lilt. “I ‘spect you’ll be needin’ a fire this morning.”

You nod just now noticing the chill in the air. She busies herself with the kindling and sweeping ashes from the fireplace. The maids exchange a few soft words before she steps out to get the firewood from the Useful Man down the hall.

“Apologies,” You say by way of greeting, “But I don’t believe I got your name?”

“Oh, pardonne-moi,” the lady’s maid curtsies briefly, “Je m’appelle Marie.”

“Marie,” You repeat, “Pleased to meet you.”

“Moi aussi, mademoiselle.”

And from there, the ritual of dressing began. The house maid, Louisa, lit the fire and spirited you out of bed to air out the linens. At Marie’s suggestion, she also tackled unpacking the various trunks placed near the dresser and closet.

“These are fine frills Miss,” She smiled, her fingers delicately folding chemises and hanging skirts or dresses. “The Missus said your debut gown came all the way from Mr. Worth’s shop in Paris, is that true?”

A soft sigh escaped you at the memory, ivory chiffon and silk revealing the décolleté and arms, gauze and tulle providing a tempting illusion of bared skin. A full skirt with bustle that would skim the floor accompanied by a small train. With gloves and a fan to match, of course.

“Indeed, it is,” You allowed with a cheeky wink, “But I think Marie would have my head if I touched it before Friday.”

Marie, for her part, merely smirked and continued her preparations for your bath.

Across a few city blocks, a footman knocks on the imposing doors of the Harrington manse. The family butler, Campbell, just happens to be descending the stairs and takes it upon himself to open the door.

“Good morning sir,” The footman says with a bow, “Mr. Fairchild bid me to deliver this.” He hands over an envelope addressed to Mr. Samuel Harrington.

“Yes, well,” Campbell sighs, opening the door to let the footman in. “I’ll get this to him. If you hurry, Cook can scrounge up some coffee and a pastry for you. Just take the servant’s hall to the right.”

“Much obliged,” The footman says with a bow as Campbell starts up the stairs.

The handwriting on the envelope is neat, if a bit cramped. Must be the young Mr. Fairchild then, rather than his wife sending the correspondence.

Mr. Harrington’s study door is cracked open, the sound of papers shuffling to and fro on his desk as the butler enters. He briefly glances up to find Campbell, “Happen to know where I put those contracts, Campbell?”

“Perhaps the drawer on the left, sir.”

Mr. Harrington pulls the drawer open, “Right you are, good man.” And thereby loses himself to perusing the documents and thus ignoring Campbell.

“A letter has arrived for you sir,” He says stepping closer to the desk, “From Mr. Fairchild, it seems rather urgent. I have his footman waiting for your reply.”

“Hmm, well let’s have it then.”

He takes the letter from the butler’s hand and slips the blade of the letter opener under the paper. Retrieving the missive, he scans through it quickly, lips pulling down in distaste.

“See to it that Mrs. Harrington gets this,” He instructs, pulling out a new sheaf of paper and beginning his correspondence. “If she wishes to see my reply, she best be quick about it.”

The letter itself detailed the unfortunate meeting between Mr. Fairchild’s sister and Mr. Harrington’s only son. The man was understandably concerned about how it would seem should someone have happened upon them sans chaperone, as the young lady had yet to make her debut into society.

Mr. Harrington’s reply was cordial in an attempt to smooth things over— the Fairchilds, like the Harrington’s were of good stock, two families of the New York Four Hundred deemed to be unblemished and acceptable company by none other than the Grande Dame herself, Mrs. Astor. It wouldn’t be fitting for reputations to be sullied as the result of a simple misunderstanding.

As expected, Samuel’s wife, Amelia, swanned into the study seemingly in the midst of her morning toilette. Her hair was up, but she still wore her housecoat as her day dress had yet to be put on by her lady’s maid. Mr. Fairchild’s letter waved about in one hand, while the other pressed upon her chest as if to stop her racing heart.

“That boy of yours is going to give me heart failure.”

Samuel signs the letter with a flourish and lays his pen to the side.

“Oh, so he’s only my boy when he acts indiscreetly with the fairer sex, but he’s your son when he’s winning accolades at Harvard and breaking hearts abroad, is that it?”

She tuts and sits demurely on the divan, “Well, yes. Precisely that Sam.” She fans herself with the letter as her husband leans against his desk. “The social set have already written him off as a lost cause and we can ill afford a whisper of a scandal, especially now.”

Sam passes the reply to his wife and pauses, as if to choose his words carefully.

“Still moving forward with your plans to find Steven a wife then?”

“Of course, dear,” She answers brusquely, “There are many suitable ladies this season of decent breeding and passable looks.” She glances up and passes the letter back to him. “Your response is sufficient, send it off with the footman.”

Amelia rises from the divan and turns to leave. “Wake Steven and have a talk with him will you? I’ll send Maude out to the florist, he should write a note of apology for her to send along.”

“As you wish, dear.”

Amelia leaves just as abruptly as she appeared. Samuel sighs and furrows his brow, the inklings of a headache coming on. He taps his fingers against the desk and checks the time.

“Campbell,” He calls into the hall, “Have Calvin wake Steven and tell him to see my in the study.”

“Of course, sir.”

He takes a seat and settles himself behind the desk once more.

“And have Cook send something up? Coffee and breakfast for two.”

Awaiting the arrival of his son, Samuel Harrington turns and faces the bay of windows that look out onto the street below. He watches as Fairchild’s footman hops on the back of the coach and slides from his view. He contemplates his son’s options, admittedly there are few.

Such are the advantages and disadvantages in marrying a woman who’s as sly as a fox. It’s just a matter of out-maneuvering her; an entertaining and seemingly endless chess match that’s lasted even longer than their marriage.

But the silver lining in all this, he supposes, is that Steven Harrington, their sole child and heir, just so happens to take after his father in this respect, in that he’s crazy like a fox.

Funny how things work out, isn’t it?

As for the young Mr. Harrington, well, suffice it to say he had quite the morning. The newly arrived Miss Fairchild, however, had a luxurious start to her day (that is, if one discounts the pulling and pinning of hair, the tugging on of stockings and tightening of corset laces).

You joined your brother and sister-in-law in the dining room while another maid fixed a plate of breakfast for you; Pierce, the butler, stepped in to pour the coffee. You thanked them both and broke your fast, listening as Christopher and Marian discussed the events of the day.

“I’ll need to see to the accounts today,” Your brother said, turning his newspaper with a shake. “Everything should be in order before the ball this weekend.”

Marian nodded and sipped from her coffee cup. “I have some calls to make today, and thought Nell could accompany me.”

Christopher slowly lowers his newspaper and glances your way— don't feel obligated to do this, you haven’t been properly introduced into society yet.

Buying time, you take a bite from the flaky croissant on your plate and ruminate. In a way, both Chris and Marian are correct; you aren’t obligated to escort Mrs. Fairchild, nor would it be wise to turn down an informal introduction to those in Marian’s circle. She would, after all, be serving as your chaperone, and, along with your brother, introducing you to Manhattan high society on Friday at the ball.

Your debutante ball, to be precise.

At the time, Vassar was a welcome distraction and reprieve for being paraded around like a prize calf at auction. But then came the unfortunate illness and demise of your parents, followed by a year of mourning.

It would seem that your time of delay had finally come to its end.

After all, no one wanted a spinster for a bride.

Dabbing at the corners of your mouth with a napkin, you clear your throat and brace yourself.

“That sounds lovely, Marian. I’d be happy to escort you today.”

She smiles and makes to reply, but before she can open her mouth to do so, a knock sounds from the front door. Puzzled, the three of you glance at one another, clearly not expecting a caller at such an early hour.

Pierce nods to someone by the door, bidding him to open it. He quickly returns with a beautiful arrangement of flowers, only to set them to your right and hand you a card. Baffled, you take in the spray of purple orchids, white tulips, lemon geraniums, the sprigs of rosemary, and tucked away behind the hearty green stalks, the shy blooms of forget-me-nots.

Respect, sincerity, an unexpected meeting, remembrance, and affection.

“Well,” Marian prompts from across the table, “Who are they from?”

It’s only then that you recall the card in your outstretched hand. Slipping from your reverie, you thumb open the small envelope.

Miss Fairchild—

Please accept my sincere apologies for our run-in yesterday evening. I hope it did not startle you. I’ve liaised with your brother about the repairs, and in the meantime will give you use of my equipage and pray it will suffice. I also hope that you’ll enjoy the flowers and please know that they relay my deepest and most sincere sentiments.

Cordially yours,

Steven Harrington

P.S. Je vous prie d’accepter mes sincères regrets et ma sympathie à l’occasion du décès de votre proches.

For the remainder of the week, Steve was a bundle of nerves. He’d written the note as his mother asked and even went so far as to accompany her to the florist, managing to slip in a few blooms that complemented the arrangement nicely. And if his mother didn’t happen to notice the errant sprigs of blue or the lingering scent of rosemary, then so much the better.

What he didn’t anticipate was the lack of a response.

“It isn’t done,” Miss Robin Buckley reminded him on their promenade in Central Park. “Until she is out to society, her brother is no doubt keeping her under lock and key.”

“You could provide the introduction,” He points out petulantly. “You’re choosing not to in order to entertain yourself with my suffering.”

“You cad,” She swats at him with her fan. “And no, I cannot. There’s a reason I fled to France after my disastrous debut, as you well know.”

And thus, Steve resigned himself to pining for a woman who barely knew of his existence, while the eligible bachelors of New York bided their time until her debut at the ball.

“For what it’s worth,” Robin says carefully as they round a bend, “There have been many deliveries to the Fairchild House, but yours was the first.”

He warms at the thought.

“That has to count for something, I suppose.”

She grins, “It will.”

They continue to walk, grateful for the brief break in the weather and discuss the evening’s festivities: who will wear what, how many dances until Robin steps on someone’s toes, how ostentatious the new money Vanderbilts will be.

They exit the park, parting ways as their carriages await. Robin catches a curious expression on her friend’s face, both dreamy and apprehensive. She lays a gloved hand on his arm.

“À cœur vaillant rien d'impossible.”

Steve glances down and says with a playful smirk, “Qui vivra verra.”

On Friday afternoon, Marian and Marie carefully assess your gown while Louisa dashes to and fro with the pearls, no the diamonds.

“Sapphires? No, that would ruin the effect.” Marian muses and Marie agrees.

You, by the by, are seated on the bed in a chemise and loosened corset, bored stiff, as the two hem and haw over how to best display you for the ball.

Because that’s all this is really, an overblown dog and pony show in which you’ll be paraded around and shown off to great effect all to attract suitors. It was enough to make one queasy. God forbid a woman do anything on her own or without the approval of a man.

As if men ever did anything worth doing that a woman didn’t have to make right.

Having quite enough of their chatter, you shrug into a robe and pull its sash tight, toe on some slippers and make your way down the hall. At the end of the corridor, you spy the cracked door to Christopher’s study. He’s shuffling papers and muttering to himself as you slip inside.

“I think the accounts can handle themselves for the evening,” you say with a smirk, settling yourself on a chair by the window.

He chuckles, “I suppose you’re right, clever girl.” Sorting the papers into a single file, he looks up at you with a quirked brow. “Had enough of Marian’s prodding, I take it?”

You sigh and dramatically cast your head back, “That’s the worst of it— they haven’t even begun!” Warming at his familiar laughter, you continue: “If I’d known that this is what I’d be subjected to, I would’ve stayed in France.”

Chris studies you at that; your weary sigh, crossed arms, and face a mask. Can’t make heads or tails of if you’re serious or not. Is it too soon? Did you still need time to mourn Maman and Papa? But then your debut had been delayed so much already…

“Is that what you want?”

It’s a question you hadn’t expected from him. But suddenly you’re reminded that he’s your brother, the only family you have left in the world. The man who dropped everything and took the first ship bound for France to be with you at your parents’ deathbed. He had insisted you stay at the house in Paris until you’d recovered your own strength and sent Marian and Gus to keep you company while he saw to business at home.

And knowing him as well as you do, Chris wouldn’t ask something idly.

So you choose your next words carefully.

“I no longer trouble myself with wants.”

The lightest dusting of snow begins to gather on the windowpane. Soon enough, all of the city would look like a snow globe. A perfect winter wonderland for the evening’s festivities, and your favorite kind of weather— snow makes everything look softer somehow, muffles the sound, and blankets the world in swaths of pure white. Your mother adored snow, had somehow convinced you and Chris that she could smell when it was about to begin. And maybe that’s why you’ve taken a shine to it now.

Turning from the window with a small smile, you rise to exit the study and get ready for the night. Leaving your elder brother puzzling over your parting phrase.

Steve could hardly forget your first meeting, but seeing you that evening nearly eclipsed the recollection. Without a cape and no longer in the purples and grays of half-mourning, you were quite a sight to behold.

And he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

Several men from the club, Hargrove, Hagan, and Byers, were scattered around the room sizing up the competition just as he was. Somehow, Edward Munson had been granted an invitation— with his railroad money and lack of pedigree. Regardless of social standing, each eligible bachelor in the room was jockeying for position; who would be the first introduction, the first dance, did her eyes fall on him or the man to his left?

Steve was well-versed in this routine, he’d been to enough debutante balls to last a veritable lifetime. Usually, he’d enter and make the necessary greetings before grabbing a refreshment and picking a wall to lean on because god help him if he was going to actually dance more than the bare minimum required.

But in this instance, things were different.

Namely, that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since that fateful night. Despite the lack of interest from you (which was to be expected, really), he couldn’t help but think of you fondly. Descending from your coach to check on your driver and the horses, shivering in the evening chill, voice soft and sleep-worn.

There was also the fact that his mother was hovering somewhere behind him. She’d oh so fortunately seen Mrs. Fairchild as she was making her social calls earlier in the week and had received an informal introduction to you. She’d said as much at dinner that day and ever since then, she’d been subtly laying the groundwork for a possible courtship.

And as much as Steve did not want to bow to his mother’s machinations, he also desperately wanted an introduction with you. So he sips his drink and observes the goings on around him his attention turning to the grand staircase as someone announces:

“Presenting Miss Eleanor Joséphine Fairchild, escorted by her brother Mr. Christopher Fairchild.”

The symphony starts up as you descend the stairs to polite applause on the arm of your brother, eyes demure and downcast, your subtly rouged lips pulling into a soft smile. And Steve can hardly breathe— it’s as if the world slowed and went fuzzy at the edges, everything and everyone falling by the wayside save for you.

Because you are positively incandescent; beautifully angelic in your finery and reminiscent of Venus emerging from her shell. He feels as if he’s been struck, a warmth radiating in his chest, and wouldn’t be surprised to find one of Cupid’s golden arrows lodged there. And Steve knows a little of desire, of wanton lust; he is, after all, a man of privilege in a world that caters to his whims. But while this feels reminiscent of that— the heat, the wanting— there is also, oddly, restraint.

All eyes are on you as your brother leads you across the floor, smiling politely at those assembled, eyes never staying on one person for too long. You’re playing nice, presenting an unimpeachable image of the demure lady, it wouldn’t be done to favor one gentleman this evening. In fact, it would send the wrong message entirely.

Everyone present knows this; it is a game often played in polite society, even if its ramifications are— how shall we say it?— best left behind closed doors.

“A lamb and her shepherd,” His mother says, voice pitched low for only him to hear. “Bo-Peep will soon abandon his charge, and that, Steven, is when you will make your introduction.”

It’s all he can do to school his features and recede into himself; eyes glassy and blank, face a mask. Polite and charming, affable even. And while his mother thinks she is being helpful, it’s hard not to believe she isn’t pouring poison in his ear. Half expects her to say something akin to, “Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under't.”

She doesn’t, and for that he is grateful. Instead, she melts away into the background and loops her arm through his father’s. And, sure enough, your brother does eventually leave your side only to be replaced by Mrs. Fairchild, who slips your wrist through a dainty loop of cream ribbon with a dance card and a small pencil attached.

The room stills, a pack of wolves lying in wait. Drinks are set aside, conversations cease; Amelia gives her son an unceremonious push forward, her gloved hand on his shoulder tipping him toward the inevitable. Steve nearly stumbles from the shock of it all.

Because in one moment he’s just another man in the crowd, an eligible bachelor at yet another ball prepared to drink the night away. And in the next, his eyes lock with yours, and he feels himself falling. It’s hopeless to fight it, this gravitational pull you seem to have over him; haven’t exchanged even two words, and he’s already in your thrall.

He can see your chest rise with your sharp intake of breath, eyes widening at his approach. Steve’s trying not to spook you, really he is. He thinks back to his favored horse, Balius, the clomping hooves and fierce breaths, tries to calm you in the same manner— a slow approach, a small smile, and soft words.

And while he would never bow to the stubborn dappled stallion, Steve does bow to you and says, “Steven Harrington, a pleasure to meet you officially Miss Fairchild.”

Your eyes light in recognition, of his name or him he cannot tell. But you curtsy all the same and offer him your hand, as etiquette dictates. He takes it gladly, marvelling at the fine fabric of gloves adorning it. His finger finds the racing pulse on the underside of your wrist, running along it slowly.

Another sharp intake of breath at the sensation, a heat skittering underneath your skin as his fingers loop around your wrist, your pulse thudding in their wake.

He opens the booklet and takes his time writing his name, well aware at the gathering of eligible suitors at his back. He’s loathe to release your hand and leave you to all of this, the wolves at the gate, but as much as he wants to whisk you away from what is sure to be an uncomfortable and tiring evening, Steve is required, as is everyone else, to play the game.

And Steven Harrington is playing to win.

Mr. Harrington—

It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance this past Friday, and thank you for your presence. I do hope the evening passed pleasantly for you and my apologies for not seeing to you more frequently, but other obligations, as you well know, prohibited me from seeking your company. Furthermore, I must apologize for being remiss in not offering my sincerest gratitude for the lovely flowers and the gracious use of your equipage. You are truly a generous man, and I am grateful for your friendship.

Cordially yours,

Miss Fairchild

P.S. Merci pour le sauvetage de Monsieur C—. Je n'avais aucune idée sur sa relation avec Mademoiselle C—. J’espère que vote intercession ne reflétera pas mal sur vous. Je vous suis redevable.

_

Steve’s postscript: Please accept my sincerest and deepest condolences on the passing of your parents.

Nell’s postscript: Thank you for the rescue from Mr. C—. I had no idea about his relationship with Miss C—. I hope your intercession will not reflect poorly on you. I am in your debt.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #fic: cf & dd

[misc-obeyme]

Mc shows the brothers

Human world style and (what the media gives to woman) body standards ,How would they react?

((I am a firm believer that you can be whoever you want and your body is beautiful))

Hey there, anon!

Okay, this here is a sensitive topic, but I think I did all right with it.

I think how the brothers would react depends on what the beauty standards are like in the Devildom. So for this, I went with the idea that while the Devildom has similar beauty standards to the human world, they're less important. I would think that demons would care more about power than appearance, especially since it's likely that at least some of them use magic to alter how they look. So the brothers probably don't know what an issue it is in the human world.

Also tried to keep it mostly gender neutral, hopefully that's okay.

Thank you for the request!

The brothers react to GN!MC telling them about human world body standards.

Warnings: A lot of discussion of body image issues, talking about diets and food in Beel's part.

Lucifer

Does not understand. Why do humans place such importance on looking perfect? He certainly sees the value in looking put together, especially when it comes to things like clothes and hygiene. Beyond that, though, he doesn't see the point in obsessing over trying to fix perceived flaws.

Does not care about your body type at all. Short? Tall? Fat? Thin? It's irrelevant to him. What matters is who you are. If he wasn't a beautiful man, it wouldn't matter because everyone would still fear him. It isn't about what you look like, it's how you carry yourself.

If you struggle, though, he's going to be sensitive about it. Will not talk about it with others around, but will casually compliment you on how nice you look. Especially if he knows you're lacking confidence for some reason. Then he'll make a point of telling you that you look good.

When you're alone, though, he showers you in compliments. Lucifer is not usually soft, so it's reserved for when you're alone with him. And that's when he takes your feelings into consideration. Don't you know that you are stunning, MC? In fact, he would say that your body is perfect simply because it is yours.

Mammon

Hang on. Human world models aren't naturally like that? Sure, he works out a little more than he might normally just because he works as a model, but it's not like he goes around doing anything drastic. Do you think he's contributing to unrealistic beauty standards in the Devildom?!

Um… well… it's hard to say? You'll probably need to reassure him that it really doesn't matter either way. The problem is not individual models, but the industry as a whole. And there are people who are working to make things better. It's just that in the human world, you have to be aware that what you see in magazines is usually heavily edited. He's gonna think that's crazy. The Great Mammon's photos are never photoshopped!

Once he gets over this little crisis, though, he's going to tell you that all of that sounds really stupid. The whole point of fashion is that it makes you feel good! It's supposed to be fun! Who cares what type of body you have? You should be able to enjoy it no matter what.

Mammon is gonna get really cute about your specific insecurities, though. If you tell him you don't like something about yourself, he's going to go out of his way to let you know that he loves it. Feeling unhappy about your stomach not being flat enough, for instance? Hey, MC! Ya don't mind if he gives ya hug, do ya? Doesn't wait for a response, just wraps his arms around you from behind so he can settle his hands directly on your stomach. Presses his face into your neck to mumble about how perfect you are because he won't say it straight to your face.

Leviathan

Baffled. More confused than Lucifer. Are you seriously trying to tell him that people in the human world care about this kind of thing? Uh oh. Now he's thinking about his body image. Does it fit with human world standards?! Do you think he's hideous, MC!?

You've got another crisis. Quick, reassure him that he has nothing to worry about! The point you're trying to make here is that human world standards are crazy and harmful. He's perfect to you and that's all that matters.

O-oh. Right. Now he's a little bashful about his reaction. Makes it clear that you're perfect to him, too. Watch as he gains more confidence in his compliments. He starts telling you about how he loves every part of you. Lists physical attributes at first, but starts getting into who you are to him. Not just your best qualities, but special moments he's had with you. How important you are to him, specifically.

If you tell him about things that you struggle with, he's going to reassure you in the moment. And then you notice that when you consume some form of media together, a lot of times there's a character that has one of those specific things that you also have. He thinks he's subtle, but you see right through him. If he finds a story line where the character learns to love themselves or something, he's definitely going to make you watch it with him. Acts like he's completely innocent, it's just a good story, you know!

Satan

Confused at first. As with Lucifer, finds such things to be completely irrelevant. Obviously, what matters is who you are inside. When someone has a heart and soul as beautiful as yours, their body simply becomes beautiful by association. Also don't you know it's about practicality? Your body exists to move you through the world, not to be pretty for other people.

Uh oh. Now he's getting angry. Why would other humans feel that you have to look a certain way for them? How could they make you feel like you aren't perfect exactly as you are? How dare they subject you to their own ideals of beauty? It's upsetting, MC!

Okay, okay, you're probably going to have to talk him down. He's livid on your behalf, but tell him how much it means to you to hear him say these things and he'll start to calm down. Realizes that getting angry about it doesn't help you in any way. Reassures you that such human world ideas are nonsense.

Starts complimenting you all the time, especially on the things he knows you're insecure about. Maybe you don't like the shape of your nose. He will say, completely straight faced, that your nose is looking really cute today. Although this sounds ridiculous, it does make you smile, so that feels like a win.

Asmodeus

Oh, MC. Don't you think he knows all about this already? Of course he does. Asmodeus is perfectly aware of how things are in the human world when it comes to beauty standards. He knows how hard it can be for some humans.

You might think he couldn't possibly understand because he's so perfect. He's always beautiful. The reality is that he believes his beauty is all he has. If he's not beautiful, who even is he? Take the moment to tell him that he's so much more than his looks. That you love him for who he is, his kindness, his bubbly personality, his creativity, etc.

He's going to tell you that all the things you do to make yourself look good should be things you're doing for yourself. Do them because they make you feel good. Do them because they give you confidence. Do them because you deserve to pamper yourself sometimes. Do them because you need to take care of yourself just as much as you take care of everybody else.

Another one who gets cute about your insecurities. What's that? Did you say you don't like your stretch marks? Well now you're laughing as he kisses every last stretch mark he can find. You learn not to say negative things about yourself around him unless you're prepared to get covered in kisses.

Beelzebub

Misunderstands. Thinks you're asking him for workout advice. You want your body to look a certain way? He knows what to do for that. Do you want him to come up with an exercise schedule for you, MC? Its up to you whether or not you decide to workout with him, but either way you'll have to tell him that's not exactly what you meant. Tell him about diets and watch the confusion get worse.

Wait, wait, wait. Humans restrict their food in an attempt to get their bodies to look a certain way? He's dumbfounded. Just thinking about it upsets him. Why in the world would you want to deprive yourself of any kind of food? You decide not to tell him just how bad this can get for people. He's having a hard enough time as it is.

Don't you dare try to do it around him, though. If you say anything about not wanting to eat something because you're worried it'll make you fat or you're watching your figure or anything else along those lines, he will frown at you. He's going to tell you that you should eat whatever you want.

Beel thinks chubby humans are really cute. They look well fed and that makes him happy. If you're already on the chubby side, he'll tell you how much he likes it. If you're not, he'll tell you how much he likes you the way you are, but if you were to change he would like you just the same.

Belphegor

Huh. Humans care about some weird stuff, don't they? It's not that Belphie is unaware of human world beauty standards, it's more like he thinks it's really dumb so he doesn't think about it most of the time. However, he does recognize what an issue it can be for a lot of people. The fact that you're bringing it up to him indicates that you struggle with it, too. And he's not okay with that.

Won't lose his shit or anything, this guy is too lazy for that. But he is annoyed on your behalf. He's annoyed that you feel insecure about any part of you because the human world had the audacity to pressure you into thinking you weren't good enough just the way you are. You don't have to change anything about yourself, MC. You're perfect.

He's actually really good at listening to you talk about your body image issues. He knows he doesn't necessarily have to participate a lot, he just needs to listen. You'll feel better once you've told him all about your struggles. Tell him everything. He's only going to speak up to tell you that he understands, but that in his eyes, those flaws you think you have don't exist.

As with a couple of his older brothers, he's going to deliberately love on the things that you mention being insecure about. Definitely more bratty about it, though. The more you protest, the more he persists. Did you just complain about how thick your thighs are? He's going to nuzzle into them like they're the softest pillow he's ever had. Loudly says he's going to take his afternoon nap right there. Try to dislodge him and you'll only make it worse.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me brothers #request #misc writes

[sugar-omi]

On the topic of moisturizing our ocean boy's lips... May I add a lil' idea on how making things easier...?

First: apply a very generous amount of your fav lipbalm on your lips.

Second: lightly tap the corner of your mouth with your index with an innocent smile and say "Cove, it's lipcare time, baby".

Third: Indulge and enjoy.

Somehow, I've got the feeling that Cove would be a real threat to MC's scented lipbalms/lipsticks/lipglosses. You know, like when you can't help but eat your lipstick once applied, because it's tasty and it becomes a habbit you absent-mindedly do...? Well, I kinda hc him doing the same, but to MC's lips.

I think it'd even reach a point where MC'd have a stack of lipsticks/balms only for his personal use (on MC's mouth). Pricey lipsticks would be worn only when sure he'd not be around. And i think he might pout and feel "cheated" if MC would ever dare wearing one of those long-lasting lipsticks (because he enjoys having you apply, re apply and re-re apply your gloss, so he can have seconds, thirds, as much as he wants, MC's mouth literally becomes Free Dessert Buffet to him).

Downside of it... your make up budget might explode, with how fast those lipsticks and balms are finished.

There's this french brand which sells this absolutely delicious lipbalm made with honey. You literally wanna scoop it from the bottle and eat it. Also, it's the kind of really rich and thick, blanket-like texture you'd apply before sleep. So if MC ever uses it... they'd probably have to either try keeping Cove away from their lips (at least enough time for the product to do its job on their lips), or benevolently sharing (cause it's caring), or resign to plan their lip moisturizing routine another day... or hide while doing it.

I think lipsticks/balms would end up being one of the most fav items Cove would gift them...

Sorry, I went a bit overboard with the topic... 😅

Rambling anon -

THIS IS SO GOOD

MC putting on one of their nicer lipsticks/glosses, or putting a lotta time/effort into their lips and limiting cove to 1 or 2 pecks. PECKS. not kisses. PECKS.

cove is pouting, his distraught... he just wants to kiss you, your lips look so nice n juicy n shiny and-

he needs his fix.

definitely make him buy some if not all your lip products. if he wants to keep kissing you silly, wants to keep smudging your lipstick/gloss n making it so obvious what you were just up to, then he needs to pay for it!!!!

imagine giving him a lil peck, and then it turns to 3, than 5, and now you're just kissing... your lip is totally ruined, lipstick n carefully lined lips totally smudged.

don't ask if he's proud of himself because he'll just laugh n rub his arm. or maybe he's just looking at you all love-drunk. doesn't care about all the lipstick staining his lips... hopefully no one walks around the corner this time

liz did once, n she does not let you live in it down... specifically cove. always teasing him with, "cove, theres lipstick on your chin" and snickering hysterically when he slaps a hand over his mouth n chin, trying to wipe off the "lipstick"

(she did it once, being totally serious, and cove was like "im not falling for that again >:(" and went to work with your lipstick on his lips...)

yall definitely lip makeup wipes n a compact mirror on hand at this point...

#olba #cove holden #cove holden x reader #fluff

[da-shrimping-station]

Cooking for the House of Lamentation

Let me start this post by saying that over the years I've had plenty of experience cooking for a lot of people. I'm no expert cook whatsoever, just a helping hand in the kitchen during festivals and occasions (which happens multiple times in a year). If you have more experience and insights, please feel free to share!

Let’s start this off by having some sort of baseline so we’re all on the same page.

MC /OC/you/us/we (and what have you) can:

follow a recipe well enough

be in the kitchen and not have it burn down

cook an edible meal at the end of it all

A fairly average cook if you will.

Now, time for chaos.

Cooking for a lot of people is…a lot. A feast for upwards of 10 people can take the whole day. Not to mention buying ingredients beforehand. How many dishes are you gonna cook? Do they go well/compliment each other? What’s the serving size? Are you gonna have desserts too? Do you have the right equipment? Are the ingredients available/accessible? Is there anyone who has a food-specific condition to look out for and make alternatives for? Are there ingredients that need to be marinated/prepped in advanced? Is everything within budget? (These are some questions at the top of my head)

Now the main concern here is volume/quantity. Beelzebub. Need I say more?

Actually, YES. It’s a house full of men. Men eat a lot. Oh, and they’re also demons. So let’s assume they eat/consume significantly more than humans. (You can pitch in your HCs for each brother regarding how much they eat) But let’s say the food has to be for 10-15 people at the very least.

GROCERY RUN!

There’s a whole ass booklet for the groceries, with each brother having their own page/section. Let’s assume there’s no budget constraints (Lucifer can bitch about the cost and budgeting but his brothers need to be fed). Groceries are bought in bulk. Multiple times a week. Emergency trips in the middle of the night or else they starve for breakfast. 

At some point they get their groceries delivered every 3 days or so. The runs are now for necessity/emergency.

But if a brother requests a certain dish, then it’s time to go to the market. Prepare your haggling skills.

THE BATTLEFIELD

Based off of the game (and referencing the floor plan from Wanderer’s Whereabouts), the kitchen is actually pretty spacious. Good. We need all the space we can get for this. I’d like to think Barbatos personally made sure the kitchen is fully kitted out with all the equipment and utensils one needs. (Thanks, Barbs. You’re the best!) No worries on that end.

I headcanon that the kitchen is split into 2 parts: the side where the stoves and appliances are and the side where the dirty kitchen is. That way you have access to stoves/ovens and the fancy appliances as well as being able to cook with coal or in a spit. Increases the capacity for cooking multiple dishes at once. (Please share your HCs for the kitchen!)

PREP TIME

Prepare your hands and arms. Washing, peeling, chopping, dicing, slicing, marinating. Any and every sort of ingredient prep. How many ingredients does this dish have? Are you gonna prep one dish only? Are you gonna prep for two in advance? Mis en place (or whatever the term is im no culinary shrimp)

Also think about the sheer amount of ingredients.

Say, according to the cookbook, this dish serves 5 people and it needs 1 whole onion. Pretty straight forward right? But you’re cooking for 7 demon brothers and one being the Avatar of Gluttony. Let’s go back to the 10-15 people approximation. That means you have to increase the amount (in this case that’ll be 2 or 3 whole onions). That goes for every fucking dish. 3 onions for dish #1. What about dish #2 and #3 and so on? (Honestly, your hands must be well marinated by the time you’re done with all the prep)

Measuring the ingredients too. 1 cup of this, a tablespoon of that, a pinch of this. Please please please let there be enough soy sauce for tonight’s cooking.

Another thing: you’re probably dealing with local Devildom ingredients (which you did not even know existed until then)

Veggies? Sliced

Meats? Washed and cut.

Condiments and seasonings? All measured.

Are we ready to cook? NO.

Please clean up the peels, excesses, undesirables, and packaging.

GET THE FIRE GOING

Finally! The actual cooking part! Take a deep breath and put that pot on the stove. Good luck cuz you’re gonna be juggling between multiple dishes just to be able to get ready for dinnertime.

One dish is boiling so the meat softens? Time to fry. Oh and have you checked the one you were marinating? Please add that to the veggies in dish #2. Don’t overcook the pasta for dish #1! Please adjust the heat, that pot is boiling over. Taste test for dish #3. Hhm needs more salt. Is the meat soft enough? Good, let's season it. Please mind the fire! You’re gonna char the one you’re frying. This one has marinated long enough, we can add it to dish #2. Take dish #1 off the heat. I think it’s done. Do you think this is fried well enough?

It’s hectic. It’s a mess and a half. You make sure nothing is overcooked or undercooked. Taste test to make sure everything tastes fine. (are the dishes safe for human consumption tho)

ALL DONE!(?)

You wish! Now you have to deal with the clean up!

Wash everything you used for cooking. Pots, pans, knives, measuring cups and spoons, plates and bowls you put the ingredients in, the tasting spoons you used, the ladles and spatulas, etc

Please clean the stoves, sinks, countertops/tabletops too.

Oh yea, put away the excess ingredients and return the condiments and seasonings.

You still there? Still got energy to study and do homework later?

Personally, i clean as i go whenever i have the time in between tending to the dishes. I hate hate hate a messy/dirty kitchen while i cook it makes me wanna rage

DINNERTIME

These fuckers better sit down and eat what you cooked. No. Who the fuck cares if someone is being rowdy or moody or being dramatic. NO ONE wastes your efforts in preparing the food. Sit down and EAT.

I mean alright, maybe you can tag team dinner prep but it’s still a lot in terms of quantity and sheer volume. Will that brother be of actual help in the kitchen?

To sum it all up,

May the Universe have mercy on MC when they’re on cooking duty.

#shrimpy rambling #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #drabble #obey me headcanons #shrimpy art #obey me oc #sheep chan #obey me original character #obey me main character #obey me sheep mc #wrote this after cooking back to back to back throughout november til january #🦐:art #🦐:ramblings

[oceanlipgloss]

9.1.2024

—nsfw

Once again, I braved a battle of screaming abominations angels to unlock yet another H-scene: Mammon's! I honestly feel bad that this is going to happen behind Satan's back, but it's probably better that way. So! Without further ado, let's gooooo

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ´ˎ˗

intro: sir Mammon sir??? Wha??? As far as I can tell, HE SEEMS TO BE STANDING. Oh my f—this is gonna be wild and that 'let me in' sure has more meanings than one Still, I want to ignore all that for a moment and focus on the 'I will become yours' because it made my heart flutter. The demon of Greed himself, and a KING no less, is telling a human that he will belong to her. My, my, my <3

update I:...girl I swear it hasn't been long since your bestie Paimon helped you out that's how the story makes it chronologically seem, at least

update II: he's gonna spoil her. I can feel it. She's going to get princess treatment

update III: lmfao MC being awkward for once and not knowing how tf to tell him 'pls do me'? Simply golden

update IV: I'm sorry, but that 'anytime' kind of shot me in the heart also she's so awkward lol this is against the norm

update V: MC almost seems disappointed that she's naked again

update VI: some very nice demons helped her practice this small talk is kinda like two NPCs conversing funny lol anyway, could he perhaps be bothered by how MC has done this with others before?

update VII: *points at Mammon* why is he being so hot

update VIII: he's aiming for the heart and it's a bullseye 'you're a most precious being' Goddd <3 Romance aside, though, he makes sense. Everyone she has met so far is vying for her attention, and it will be that way with those she meets later on as well, so he would rather belong to her and 'inspire' her to choose him on her own in the process

update IX: I just CANNOT get over the idea of how someone so powerful is willingly giving himself to someone else, even more so in how he's a demon king telling a human that she's the first he's ever belonged to it makes my heart wiggle And honestly, despite how a pact/contract between a demon and a human directly makes said human the devil's master, and albeit the fact that he obviously likes her, I think that him viewing her as his master and welcoming that fact is very modest of him because in the end, he's one of the most powerful demons and a king too—and that's a package that usually comes with lots of pride, but he's so calm about it and accepting of it

update X: so he's not as close to Solomon as others seem to have been. But please back up for a moment, Mammon: what do you mean by saying your contract with Solomon was just a game? I want to hear the story behind that *rubs hands together* do tell Anyway, I've got an important note. I admire how they touched on the concept of greed. As in, MC has others but still feels so possessive of Mammon that even his contract with Solomon, whose whereabouts are currently unknown, bothers her—yet, the game doesn't label that as selfish, even though I think it's cruel and most definitely selfish (because, after all, MC can't have everyone—they're not objects or possessions, they have their own thoughts and feelings, and so she doesn't have the right to want them all, as it's brutally unfair to them even if they seemingly let it slide); the game just lets it be, though, and I really appreciate the dark tinge this has to it. It's a refreshing take.

update XI: smiling in the midst of a kiss? YESSS &lt;;3 kinda weird how MC suddenly got so possessive over him though lol his sin of greed has to be affecting her oh, her very own sin of horny, too makes me wonder how unhinged she'll become once it's time to do the deed with Asmodeus or one of his subjects Ronové mmm

update XII: PFFFFFF the butt-wrestling match begins

update XIII: MC rn: oh, MC, we're really in it now

update XIV: HOT DAMN

update XV: so, um. I said this was going to be wild, didn't I? And I did say Mammon appeared to be STANDING, didn't I? Because would you look at that! This IS wild wild writing and he IS still standing SJSNLMS BRING IT

update XVI: GOOD GOD THAT CG FLAILS AROUND PASSES OUT DIES MAMMON IS NOT PLAYING

update XVII: in memory of MC: horny killed the cat 'I'm going to die' almost sent me but imagining the 'you felt like it would come out of your mouth' sentence made me mentally gag. Like goddamn, bro

update XVIII: a playful gentleman ugh yesss

update XIX: rough but sweet? Fuckkk he's really something also how TF is she even managing to stay quiet? The PP is so grand it stunned her Okay but he seems to be really affectionate and that makes me melt ALL THOSE KISSES <3

update XX: this is easily my favourite part of this scene. It's so gentle. He's telling MC in his own way that they should both just enjoy the current moment without her thinking of other things (i.e. if he's interested in her since she's Solomon's daughter). This silent reply is so sweet and romantic—an affirmation that proves his feelings and defies her doubts but she doesn't get the message

update XXI: oh what the hell Mammon, how sweet are you? But aaaah I was right lol it was love at first sight for him. He did fall in love first and he did fall in love quickly, and this in turn means that he's also doing this because he loves her. From earlier interactions with him I figured that that his H-scene would have a dose of intimacy, so this is really nice to have Also, I HAD to include at least one screenshot of this CG because dammit feel free to use your imagination in order to see beyond the heart "look beyond what you see."

update XXII: there we go again with the horns oh God oh dear God THEY ANNIHILATE ME EVERY SINGLE TIME And now? FUCKING HELL WAY TO GO MC, that was SO HOT. What she did with gripping his horn and making him lower his head is cute, but the intention behind that and licking his horn are both very sensual and I think they're going to take a toll on Mammon too

update XXIII: yup the poor man froze

update XXIV: gotta stay true to form I think I know what comes next how the tables have turned, huh MC? I'm sorry, but this is so funny to imagine lol

update XXV: 'bumped into your face' omfg I'm—lmaoooo MC: *panics in porn reference* Me: *snorts* HILARIOUS! ENTERTAIN ME

update XXVI: aaaaaaah I KNOW I keep saying this, I won't shut up about it though a powerful entity who also happens to be a KING being willing to do what a much weaker being wants DOES THINGS TO ME SJDNFDJKSNDKS when did MC ever say she wanted this though Mammon I know you also want to do this because you worship butts

update XXVII: MC be like pls chill big man inner voice: keep going

update XXVIII: someone get MC a floatie she's gonna drown

update XXIX: when I tell you I was LAUGHING through this last part??? What the fuck mannn lol MC needs to set aside towels and floaties for every H-scene fr I feel bad for the towels tho, they'll never make it out dry

update XXX: noooo this is playing a number on my stone-cold heart so soft and sentimentallll

update XXXI: he's really sweet

update XXXII: MC, come here for a minute *SMACK* that was insensitive asf, sweetie I genuinely question her intelligence sometimes lol how is she going to make my man Gusion like her at this rate sob PrettyBusy will somehow find a way and hopefully it won't be 'you're Solomon's daughter so I like you.' I have faith in my man Gusion Gusion aside, sorry hon one of the things I really like about Mammon is how he's not afraid to be straightforward and express his dislike for something, and he also directly says when a certain thing bothers him, no matter what. This also hints at the great confidence he holds in himself.

update XXXIII: fluff fluff flufffff

update XXXIV: arghhhhh he had to say that at the end <3

update XXXV: all this sugar is lethal

#mammon what in hell is bad #whb mammon #mammon whb #what in “hell” is bad #what in hell is bad #what in hell is bad diaries

[a-local-idiots-shitpost]

Mc get´s put in the time out cage for being a horrible being

Lucifer:

he put you in the cage for the simple reason

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop BITING me!”

“now I´ll do it even more”

“and I hope you´ll enjoy the cage”

“next time I´ll stab you in the ankles”

“you just earned yourself an extra hour in the cage”

like a simple metal cage could stop you

he didn´t curse it, it has a simple lock and he didn´t take your lockpicks away

you will be out as soon as he leaves

which might take forever considering he is working right now

you´ll just entertain yourself by throwing things at him

Mammon:

Mammon came to save you

but not before making fun of you

“what did ya even do Mc?”

“in my defense it was really funny”

“ya bit Lucifer again didn´t ya?”

“in my defense it was really funny!”

“should be glad ya have me to rescue ya Mc!”

in addition no he did not save you

Lucifer caught him just as he said it and hung Mammon from the ceiling

but in the same room you were in so turns out after freeing yourself you also had to free Mammon

Leviathan:

Levi didn´t even notice you were locked in the cage

he just thought you were asleep and that´s why ignored his request to play video games with you

he also didn´t care that you got out

he just asked if you want to play now or want to binge some Anime

if you say no because escaping from a cage is exhausting you will get no sympathy from Levi

he´ll just get whiny, call you a Normie and throw you out of his room

I mean at least you can take a nap now

Satan:

he is one of the 2 reasons why 1. the cage even exists and 2. why you were the only one locked in it

while you where the one who got the idea to bite Lucifer in true Anti-Lucifer League fashion both Belphie and Satan encouraged you to go through with it

and of course they wouldn´t stop their running to rescue their favourite Human :(

he didn´t even try to visit you in the cage

but to be fair Lucifer was there nearly the entire time and Satan would have definitely started a fight with Lucifer and would have been locked away too

all three of you were in there once together

this thing was not built for a Human and two Demons

Asmodeus:

he actually visited you

to tell you that when you get out you have to go on a shopping spree with him and he brought you blankets to make your stay in the cage more comfortable

at least someone is being nice to you

he also talked a little bit with you

it was mostly him talking what you have to do with him when you are finally

he even told you that knowing you, you´ll probably out in an hour

nice for him to believe in you so much and underestimates how much Lucifer hates taking breaks

Beelzebub:

Beel scolds you

because in his words you shouldn´t be so hard on Lucifer all the time and stop causing troubles for him on purpose (to be fair at this point Trouble is pretty much your middle name... or second middle name)

and he brought you snacks and drinks because not everyone is Lucifer and can run on coffee and spite alone

he stayed a little with you and even tried to bargain with Lucifer to maybe let you out a little bit earlier because he´s sure you learned your lesson (a lie, as soon as you free he will get bitten again)

Belphegor:

reason Nr.2 why you´re in there

he didn´t even do anything he just visited to laugh at you (of course when Lucifer wasn´t there)

he even got closer to your cage to mock you

you bit him for that one

now you´re the one laughing

Belphie is just insulted and leaves (he can´t handle the fact that his actions have consequences)

also because he was being a little shit and making fun of you

you tattled to Lucifer and told him Belphie encouraged you and where he´s currently hiding

are you being petty? yes, do you care? not really he deserves it

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #lucifer avatar of pride #obey me mammon #mammon avatar of greed #obey me brothers #leviathan avatar of envy #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #satan avatar of wrath #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus avatar of lust #beelzebub avatar of gluttony #obey me beelzebub #belphegor avatar of sloth #obey me belphegor

[shadowtriovibes]

pt. iv: never let 'em see you sweat

pt. i: break a sweat || pt. ii: blood, sweat and tears || pt. iii: sweat it out

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (m receiving), shower sex, dirty talk

Summary: part iv: after the events of the Quidditch Cup final, you and Sebastian sneak away to do what you always do – but this time you don't get as far as the castle...

"Hang on… Did someone leave the shower on?” one of the boys asks, and you feel panic bubble up inside your stomach. Always quick on his feet, Sebastian calls out, “Larson, I’m just finishing up in here.” “Sallow!” Andrew calls out delightedly. “What in Merlin’s name are you still doing here? You ought to hurry up, I imagine your housemates are waiting on you to start the party.” “Won’t be long,” he insists – far too casually for someone who’s got his fingers inside you, you think. “Give me some privacy, will you? I’ve just been flying for an hour, I smell foul.”

By the time spring rolls around, few at Hogwarts are surprised that the Slytherin Quidditch team has rather easily carved a path to the Quidditch Cup final. Sebastian has played brilliantly all year, almost always securing the Snitch well before the opposing team can rack up anywhere near enough points to give the Slytherins a true challenge. Even when he doesn’t, Imelda’s intense training regimen has the Chasers in tip-top shape to earn enough points to secure a win regardless.

What is a surprise is that the Gryffindor team managed to claim the other spot, meaning that the possibility of a rematch between Sallow and Prewett was undoubtedly the hottest topic of conversation leading up to the final.

To others, Sebastian is convincingly calm about the matter. You, of course, can tell that he’s quite nervous – he’s having trouble sleeping at night, and his usually robust appetite has dwindled to practically nothing.

“Please eat some breakfast, Sebastian,” you ask him the morning of the match. “At least some toast.”

“I’m not hungry,” he insists sullenly.

You glance where his gaze is pointed and see that Leander Prewett is haughtily holding court at the Gryffindor table across the hall, already dressed head to toe in his uniform. Undoubtedly he’s bragging about how he’d almost one-upped Sebastian the last time the two of them had come to blows – probably leaving out that he surely would’ve wound up with Nurse Blainey overnight if he hadn’t apologized to you.

“Bash,” you croon, luring his attention away. “Don’t pay attention to him.”

“He’s a twat,” Sebastian grumbles.

“He is,” you agree. “And today you’re going to thoroughly trounce him and the rest of the Gryffindor team without coming to blows. Promise?”

“Sure,” he says unconvincingly.

“I heard Clopton was taking bets on whether you’d get into another fight,” Anne interjects with a grin. “He’s got fair odds on Prewett, but better ones if you duke it out with anyone else on their team.”

“Come now, Anne,” Ominis scoffs. “You know well and good that the best odds are on whether or not they use their wands this time.”

“You two are not helping,” you hiss.

By the time Sebastian leaves you to go warm up with the rest of the team, you’re a ball of nerves yourself. It only worsens when Hogwarts’ student body gets up en masse and makes its way down to the pitch. Anne and Ominis join you in the stands in the best seats you can wrangle, but even being the Seeker’s girlfriend doesn’t mean you can secure the prime seats down the front – those had quickly been snapped up by the most fervent of Slytherin supporters.

(Mostly excitable underclassmen who had arrived hours ago, but also some more senior girls who you are quite certain are only there to watch Sebastian.)

Once Kogawa starts the match, Sebastian and Leander both take off for opposite ends of the pitch. You have no way of knowing which one of them has spotted the Snitch already, but you think it’s likelier they’re both merely avoiding each other.

Sure enough, an hour flies by with little action from either Seeker. Thus far the Slytherin team has done a respectable job by putting their team into the triple digits, but Gryffindor’s Beaters are particularly vicious and manage to knock a Bludger into Priscilla Wakefield that sends her tumbling into the grass. All of a sudden your team is down a Chaser.

“Bollocks,” Anne grumbles.

“It’s going to come down to the Snitch now,” Ominis says ruefully. “There’s no way Slytherin wins without it.”

“Come on, Bash,” you whisper, watching him weave between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw sections in an easy loop, eyes fixed on the pitch.

Suddenly he swoops low toward the pitch and just barely skims the grass before he’s arcing high up into the air. The crowd around you gasps – surely he’s spotted the Snitch if he’s flying around like that, they must think.

But instead of heading back toward the ground or circling the pitch in pursuit of the glittering golden ball, you realize that he’s on a path to collide with the Slytherin students section. Then before your very eyes, Sebastian pivots at the last second, vaults himself off his broom and tumbles right over the railing and into the stands, leaving his Yew Weaver floating in midair fifty feet above the ground.

The crowd around you erupts into noise – shouts, scoffs and astonished yelps break through as he starts to muscle his way through the spectators and climb the stands toward you.

“Bash!” you yell, bewildered. “What in Merlin’s name do you think–”

He cuts you off with a bruising kiss when he reaches you, wrapping one arm around your waist to haul you against his chest. Someone near you catcalls, setting off a wave of delighted laughs, and you vaguely hear Violet McDowell make a very displeased sound.

“Sebastian!” Anne exclaims. “Have you actually lost your mind?!”

“You can snog any time, you oaf,” Ominis hisses. “You’re in the middle of a match!” 

“Not anymore I’m not,” he breathes against your mouth.

Without breaking away from you, Sebastian lifts his right fist into the air and reveals the thrumming Snitch he’d evidently scooped up right off the ground, its wings unfolding and fluttering proudly. The Slytherin section becomes impossibly louder as students begin to cheer and chant, “Sal-low! Sal-low! Sal-low!”

The announcer calls the match and far below you, Imelda hoists the Quidditch Cup into the air while the rest of the Slytherin team haphazardly lands on the ground and tackles her into one big group hug. Sebastian remains in the stands with you, one arm wrapped around you protectively while your fellow students bombard him with congratulations.

Slowly the student section empties onto the grass in a sea of green, with students splitting off in waves to return to the castle. You know the real party will be taking place in your common room, but the energy on the pitch is simply electrifying.

Sebastian gets a turn hoisting the cup high above his head and he even lets you have a go at lifting it, as well as both Anne and a bemused Ominis, who finds the whole thing just a touch too rambunctious for his tastes. Fortunately, as it was the last game of the season, Imelda doesn’t round up the team to go into the changing room to discuss their performance, which means most of the other players take off rather quickly.

At one point, you catch Sebastian looking at you with heat in his eyes, and a similar heat starts to pool low in your stomach.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask him teasingly. “Care to share with the class?”

“Not here,” he murmurs, glancing around at the crowd. “Come on.”

He takes your hand and starts to weave out of the crowd with you, making your way toward the tunnels where the empty changing rooms are located. The drop in volume is stunning once you duck inside the canvas tunnel, and by the time Sebastian pulls you into one of the changing rooms, it’s practically silent.

“Wow,” you whisper.

“It’s charmed so we can’t hear the crowds when we’re meeting in here,” Sebastian explains. “Bit intimidating otherwise.”

“Of course,” you breathe, but before you can say another word he’s pulling you against his chest once more and kissing you senseless, his gloved hands skimming across your body.

“B-Bash,” you stammer. “Let’s go, we – we can hurry back, c’mon.”

“I’m not going to make it upstairs,” Sebastian insists. “Love, I need you. Right now.”

“I do too, but what are you suggesting, we simply do it here?” you ask insistently. “We’re in public, Sebastian.”

“No one is here,” he explains. “The entire team went straight back to the common room to celebrate, we’re all alone.”

…He does have a point.

“All alone?” you murmur hesitantly. “You’re positive?”

Sebastian grins at you like he knows he’s got you exactly where he wants you. “I’m quite sure.”

It’s honestly embarrassing how easy it is for Sebastian to talk you out of your robes. You’re stripped down to your chemise before you can even get him to take off his sporting cloak. Once you’re standing completely bare in the middle of the changing room and Sebastian is tugging off his dirt-stained trousers, you peer around the empty space. Save for the lockers, benches and a chalkboard covered in Imelda’s strategic illustrations, it’s largely empty.

“How are we going to do this?” you ask him skeptically. “Conjure a bed?”

“I have a better idea,” he says with a cheeky grin.

He takes your hand and starts to walk you to the back of the room. Around a corner you find a square, tiled room with six taps sticking out of the walls, looking much like ones lining the bathtub in the luxurious prefects’ bathroom.

“Are these showers?” you ask, surprised. “Wait. You’ve had a shower here this entire time?”

“I’ve never really used them much,” he says with a shrug. “Since the teams went co-ed, it doesn’t seem fair to make the girls walk all the way up to the castle to have a bath, so we let them use it.”

“How chivalrous,” you snort.

Sebastian turns on the taps and the room starts to fill up with steam from the warm water. You find yourself shivering standing there nude, so he gently walks you underneath the running water and smiles brilliantly while you gasp and giggle at the feeling of being soaked with water in such a large open room.

“Good idea?” he asks teasingly.

“Great idea,” you tell him as you tug him toward you for a lazy kiss.

You can feel that he’s already half hard at your hip, and thanks to the water it’s all too easy to reach down and slowly stroke him until he’s moaning into your mouth and bucking against your hand.

“Let me touch you,” he whimpers. “Merlin, I need to feel you.”

He walks you back against the cold tile wall and coaxes you into lifting a leg up onto his arm, knee hooked over his elbow so he can part your thighs and grind the head of his cock against your slit. He doesn’t dip inside, not yet, but that little bit of contact makes you both moan, the sound echoing off the tile.

He’s just worked two fingers inside you and is murmuring mindlessly about how good you feel when you hear the door to the changing room slam open. You both freeze.

“Why would it be in here?” a voice you don’t recognize asks.

“I don’t know,” another voice laughs, but you realize this voice belongs to Andrew Larson, one of the Ravenclaw boys in your year who shares Astronomy class with you and serves as captain for his house’s Quidditch team. “But I’ve looked everywhere else, so maybe I left it here after the game last week.”

“Just look quickly, alright? We’re missing the Slytherin’s party for this,” the stranger grumbles.

You’re trembling, one of your legs still lifted while Sebastian winks at you and curls his fingers inside you without saying a word. You squeak and slam your eyes shut – he’s evil for that, you think. 

“Hang on… Did someone leave the shower on?” one of the boys asks, and you feel panic bubble up inside your stomach.

Always quick on his feet, Sebastian calls out, “Larson, I’m just finishing up in here.”

“Sallow!” Andrew calls out delightedly. “What in Merlin’s name are you still doing here? You ought to hurry up, I imagine your housemates are waiting on you to start the party.”

“Won’t be long,” he insists – far too casually for someone who’s got his fingers inside you, you think. “Give me some privacy, will you? I’ve just been flying for an hour, I smell foul.”

Andrew and his companion both laugh understandingly.

“Fair enough,” he relents. “I’m just looking for a library book I’ve lost, if I don’t find it Scribner will have my head.”

“Good luck, mate,” Sebastian offers cheerfully.

Then he pulls his fingers out of you and lets you lower your leg so he can turn you around. Facing the wall of the shower, Sebastian nudges your thighs apart with his leg and lines himself up with your entrance. Aided by the water he easily sinks inside you and presses you against the wall. You gasp sharply, both at the intrusion and at the feeling of the cold tile against your hardened nipples.

“Shh,” Sebastian whispers against the back of your neck. “You must be quiet, love, or I’ll have to stop. D’you want me to stop?”

“No!” you whimper. “Please don’t stop.”

Your fingers claw at the wet tiles trying to grab onto something, anything to help ground yourself as Sebastian grinds deeper inside you. You feel exposed in a way you’ve never felt before, with no blanket to hide under or door to slam shut behind you. You’re bare in the middle of an open shower, and should either boy in the other room round the corner to the showers for any reason, you would have no way to hide what Sebastian is doing to you – what you’re doing together.

You had no idea that the threat of being caught like this, doing something so improper in such a public way, would be so erotic.

“Good girl,” Sebastian murmurs. “Be nice and quiet and they’ll never know you were here.”

You can hear Andrew and his friend chatting aimlessly about Ancient Runes while Sebastian fucks you, taking care to stick to slow, deep thrusts so the sound of wet skin on skin doesn’t alert the nearby boys to what’s truly going on.

Even without the quicker pace you both usually prefer, the slow, thorough fucking you’re receiving is enough to drive you mad. You feel claimed like this, like you were merely there in the stands that afternoon to offer Sebastian a wanton reward for his victory – a prize he can bury his cock in.

You can’t help the desperate keens that slip out every time he hits that sinful spot inside you that makes your legs tremble. Sebastian can tell you’re barely holding on, so he waits until he’s fairly positive he heard the changing room door shut behind Andrew and his friend before he starts to properly lay into you, hips smacking loudly against your ass.

“Touch me!” you plead in a desperate whisper. “Bash, I’m so close, please.”

He laces one hand with yours against the wall for leverage and slides his other around the front of you to find your clit. Three fingertips pressed right against that sensitive spot is all you need to see stars, and Sebastian chokes on your name when you reach your climax and go fiercely tight around him.

You’re still a panting, writhing mess after you come back to yourself, making Sebastian groan in frustration while you squirm from sensitivity on his cock.

“Love, if you can’t find a way to keep that pretty mouth of yours quiet, I can certainly think of one,” Sebastian hisses.

“Please,” you whimper, expecting him to place a hand across your mouth and tip your head back so he can continue whispering pure filth in your ear.

But instead, he pulls out of you and grabs you by the hips to turn you around.

“On your knees,” he says softly. “Finish me off with that gorgeous mouth.”

Merlin’s beard.

You quickly drop to your knees on the wet tile and place your hands against Sebastian’s thighs. He’s so solid and warm here, even with the water still pouring over you both.

He holds his cock steady for you with one hand and with the other he tips your chin up so he can meet your gaze and whisper, “Tell me if it’s too much and we’ll stop, alright?”

Eagerly you nod and let your mouth fall open for him. He curses softly while he guides the tip of his cock inside your mouth, letting you briefly suck on the sensitive head before he starts to press in deeper. Your eyes drift shut while you take him and you concentrate on relaxing your throat so he can properly claim your mouth how he likes, until your nose brushes against the lowest part of his pelvis.

“Merlin, you’re so good at this,” he breathes. “Go on, love, show me how much you love to taste me.”

He’s a rotten scoundrel for saying it out loud, but you do love this. Sebastian tells you that most times he would prefer to be inside your body rather than your mouth if given the choice – he insists it’s too decadent, too self-serving. But that’s precisely why you enjoy it, you tell him; you get to simply pleasure him, and it feels entirely apt that you should do so after such a heroic win for your house.

On top of that, you’re quite taken with his cock.

The warm water of the shower has washed away all the sweat, dirt and grass that had clung to him even after he’d stripped off his uniform. Now he just tastes of slightly-salty skin and the bittersweet taste of the precum he’s leaking onto your tongue, and you're addicted to the way your lips have to stretch around him to accommodate his size.

You moan around the length of him in your mouth and his hips twitch eagerly.

“That’s it,” he whispers. “Keep going.”

You slide your hands up the length of his thighs to his hips and pull him closer, coaxing him into rocking his hips toward your face. The whine you make around him is pitiful and needy.

“You want me to use this mouth, darling?” he asks you knowingly. “I’ve got to do everything myself, have I?”

You have to ask yourself, why is it that he’s maddeningly irresistible when he’s being an utter prick?

Sebastian laughs softly to himself, well aware that if you weren’t in the middle of sucking his cock you’d be rolling your eyes at him. He gently cups your face b your jaw and drags his thumbs along your cheeks. He’s done this with you before, but he’s always insistent on being exceptionally careful with you, reverently mindful of your trust in him.

Then he starts to carefully fuck your mouth, holding you still while he rocks his hips in and out. He takes his time to let you breathe between lazy thrusts and murmurs soft words of encouragement every time you swallow around him.

“Such a lovely mouth,” he sighs. “You’re going to swallow every drop I give you, aren’t you love?”

Yes, you wish you could say. Yes, Bash, all of it.

His pace quickens when he’s getting close, shifting away from those deep grinds that invade the back of your throat to more shallow thrusts that have him dragging the most sensitive part of him across your tongue over and over again. Your eyes are still shut but you can easily picture what he looks like: flushed red down to his chest, drops of water clinging to his shoulders, his wet curls hastily brushed off his forehead so he can see you on your knees for him.

“Open,” he gasps, and when he hastily pulls out, you open your mouth for him with just a tease of your tongue sticking out. Placing one hand on the wall behind you to support himself, his other wraps around his cock and swiftly strokes himself until he’s spilling onto your tongue, your bottom lip, even your chin.

You’re a mess: flushed, dazed and covered in Sebastian’s spend.

“Fuck’s sake,” he gasps. “Quite cheeky of you to look that good the second I finish.”

You smirk up at him and drag your tongue across your bottom lip, collecting some of his mess and sucking it off before swallowing what you’d caught in your mouth. His softening cock twitches weakly and he groans like he knows it would hurt, but he’d happily stuff himself back inside your mouth for as long as you’d let him right this very minute.

“Do you think we should properly shower now?” you ask softly. “So we can go to the party?”

“Forget the party,” Sebastian counters. “How about you and I go up to the Room and have our own little celebration?”

“You’re such a rake, Sebastian,” you sigh, accepting the hand he offers to stand up off the tile floor. “You just had me and you’re willing to put off celebrating with all your friends, your sister, and all the Butterbeer you can drink just to have me again?”

“...Yes?” he answers, as if confused why you’re even asking.

You just scoff and shove him under the running water, giggling delightedly when he sputters and whines at how the water plasters his hair to his forehead. You sweetly brush it back for him and give him a kiss to soothe his pride, letting him taste what remains of himself on your tongue.

When you do finally get redressed and join the party, Ominis makes a face like he knows exactly what the two of you were up to.

“You know,” he murmurs as you claim a spot on the wall next to him. “I heard Andrew Larson telling some of the other Ravenclaws that he heard Sebastian Sallow in the showers after the match – and that he thought he wasn’t in there alone.”

“W-what?” you stutter.

“I don’t suppose he had any company?” he asks casually. “I noticed you too were quite late to the party.”

“No,” you lie. “N-no, I just – went to the Room of Requirement afterward to drop something off.”

Then he deadpans, “Your hair is still wet.”

“There’s no way you could possibly know that!” you protest.

“I do now,” he smirks, and you curse under your breath.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #my fic #hogwarts legacy smut #alright let's pretend i did a good job with the historical accuracy of showers ksdjkdhfkgjhsdfkg #no one CAAAAAARES tho right? it's smut

[ajulisz]

Someone is trying to sell pets to our Lady

Relationship type: You're Alcinas pet

MC Pronouns: They/Them

CW: Slavery (trade, chained - but not you), mention of death, mention of cannibalism, chocking, pet names, collar, some petting for you at the end because you deserve it :)

A/N: Do I still need to mention that you have a dom/sub dynamics outside the bedroom even after all this warnings?

*Althought me and my gf re-read this, good to remind that English is not our first language so there's still probably some typos*

With an eyebrow raise your Lady's eyes snapped from you to the merchant in front of her, it was normal this time of the year for some travelers to request meetings with her, normally she doesn't even look at them, too bored with fiddling with the strings of your collar or amusing herself with their fear to find anything of theirs interesting. But the bare mention of her pets always caused a reaction on her, a kind of possessiveness always took control.

- Hello my Lady, I'm a mere trader, I came from far away because I heard that your... pets, are the most behaved ones.

- Yes, they are. Go straight to the point, what do you have.

- Oh, simply other 'pets', I travel the world collecting and selling them to the best leaders.

She liked the flattering, the immortals trying their best, getting on their knees bowing and begging her for the mercy that only she could concede because it was genuine coming from their fear and admiration. But adulation was out of question, and it was the first and last strike to make her lose interest.

Making them believe that she still cares was simply a fun way to keep them in line while crushing their hope and making it seem like it was their fault.

- Is that so? Why don't you show me then, let me see what you have.

From the chain in the merchants hand he pulled four men in front of him, hitting them on the knees to make them stay on the floor. Moving around he started to point to what clearly once was a muscular man, now was malnourished and had an ugly face which made the Lady's insides move with disgust.

- This is one of my strongest, he-

- Oh please, show me the women and the non binaries, not the men. And let me be the judge, no need for your stained percipience.

With a flush on his face he tugged again with his chain bringing three other people on their knees.

-Yes, I'm sorry my lady. These are the ones that I have.

Your mistress eyes slowly scanned their bodies, not only the men but all the other where in a clearly state of bad care.

- Look at their faces, it looks skinnier than a healthy person should, what kind of master are you?

You were put out of the picture when she was talking, sitting on the floor on the side of her chair like a dog would sit next to its owner.

You never cared to listen to the traders that came much less dared to speak without Dimitrescu's permission. It was how you were trained to do, "don't talk, don't move, don't look, sit still until I give you an order" and she tugged your collar which meant for you to get up.

- Do they know any tricks? Or at least are they obedient? Even my current pet, as you can see, is in a better shape than your strongest man.

The man's mouth opened to say something but he stopped at the moment she raised her eyebrow again with a glare. Your eyes were faithfully looking at her hands, just waiting for the minimum order that always seemed unnoticed to others "that's what makes it magical my pet, don't you think it's more enjoyable to see their shaking knees when you obey me without me using a single word? For them is like I took control of your mind, a fair warning that I could and will the same to them if it pleases me". The lady started speaking.

- You see... pets are mere reflexes of their owners, be a good owner and they will be a good pet, be a sharp owner and they will be submissive and agile. My pet is both of this things, they went through a rough training and made a lot of mistakes in the beginning, but you have to reward them for good behavior and provide their basic needs or they will stop obeying you at certain point... because they will be dead.

There it was, a different movement of hand when she started speaking and you got closer. Her hand was passing through your body tentatively, fingers and pointy nails poking the betweens of your ribbs and finally stopped around you neck.

- Isn't it better when they die for you? When you say just one word and, while they excitedly obey, you are able to see the life fading from their eyes and feel their pulse slowly stopping around your hands?

She said and looked deep in your eyes supporting her face on her hand on the chair arm while a smirk appeared and she started squeezing your neck.

The mans eyes got bigger, he was clearly scared but you couldn't even care enough about him or the others, all you could feel at the moment was your mistress full and overwhelming presence. The lack of air, the control she had on you, all of that made your head dizzy, your fingers slowly crawling up to hers, squeezing it, begging for more.

- I- I'm sorry my lady, it was not my intention to offend you. Bu-but my pets are really obedient, they're just like that because of the extensive travel-

- Shush

The Lady's eyes rolled in annoyance, she have forgotten that the man was still standing there, lost in your breathless lust sounds that kept her in a trance. She stopped holding your neck making you fall to your knees with the weakness and struggle of recovering the air that was denied to you and motioned for you to sit on the floor in front of her. Which you obeyed, crawling to your place.

- I do not see a world where your... slaves, would be a good suit for me, maybe try to make some other fool buy them because a thing in such state is not worth a penny.

- But my la-

- Goodbye.

Her hand slowly moved to your head, and she started scratching the behind of your ear which meant that you could relax, you backed a bit and rested your head on her leg with a satisfied smile and closing your eyes when she got back to petting the top of your head for her own comfort giving a tired sigh.

- Man things get even more imbecile with the years, don't you think little one? Girls! Come here!

A smoke of flies took the whole space around you and your mistress, making three heads peak out of it.

- Yes mother?

- In our path there will be a group of humans, you may hunt and kill the leader but bring back the chained ones, put them in the maids wing, ask the maids to provide them food, water and call Monique so she can attend to their medical needs.

- Consider it done mother.

The girls said giggling and flying to the exit in the same direction of the man which made you open your eyes and you look up at your mistress with a questioning face

- Oh please sweet thing, don't look at me like that, did I not promise you that I would not dispose of you? There ain't no way that Mistress is going to train a human again, too much trouble when I have you in a perfect shape, but at least the girls can have a feast in some months and we can produce new scarecrows for the vineyard with them.

#lady dimitrescu x y/n #lady dimitrescu imagine #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x maiden #alcina dimitrescu imagine #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitriscu x reader #alcina x maiden #alcina x reader #alcina x y/n #alcina dimitrescu x maiden

[tohisprettyc00l]

find out you get bullied

A/n: Author stops writing comfort scenrios challge (Impossible)

Amity: As a person who has been the bully she's honestly more pissed. While she knows people bully others for many different reasons she can't help but project how she was feeling when bullying Willow onto your bullies. And she does not like her past self. She doesn't know quite how to comfort you she just hugs you while rubbing your back. When she confronts them she didn't want to be too mean. But Amity also does not take others hurting the ones she loves lightly.

Luz: Feels horrible that you had to deal with that. She is also pissed at the bullies. But before she can do anything to them she has to make sure you're okay. She tells you how perfect you are and that the bullies were clearly lying. She yells at them like a lot. Depending on how bad the bullying was she either has a sore throat or completely lost her voice.

Willow: She hears that! Which made her fume. Plants slightly crack the floor when you're telling her about it as she's trying to contain her anger. Once you were done she calms herself down and reassured you that you are amazing. She soon leaves to confront them. The next day not only are they not bullying you anymore, but they are also extremely nice to you.

Hunter: The (wo)man was too stunned to speak. In his eyes you're perfect so how anyone can be mean to you is beyond him. Also, the people in the Empores Coven weren't exactly the nicest to him. So if he has even a slight idea of what you're going thru he's super upset. When he talks to the bullies he subconsciously uses some of the fear tactics he learned at the coven. Which works, to say the least.

Vee:  She feels horrible. She's not sure how to help but tells you how much she loves you and spends a bunch of time with you. She is too nervous to go to your bullies. But Masha looks suspiciously like they got into a few fist-fights.

Raine: Imdeate hugs and cuddles <3. They bring you many blankets. They don't want to yell at the bullies right away. So instead they just lecture them. It's surprisingly the second most effective tactic only second to Willow's. While it might seem kinda lame (Because it was.) But imagine getting "I'm not mad I'm just disappointed"-ed by the former head of the bard coven.

Eda: she is not great at comforting you. But she picks you up and finds your bully. She pointed to said bully and asked if it was them. When you told her it was she just straight-up hexed them in front of them. Like didn't even try to hide it. Which is made slightly weirder considering that probably would have left you alone if the Owl Lady threatened them.

Emira: Oh she is mc-fucking pissed. But before that, she gives hugs you and rubs a circle on your back. Also maybe a massage. She decides not to confront them, she uses a bunch of illusions to mess with them. Does it make them think they're going insane? A little. But they also did psychological to you, so an eye for an eye as they say.

Edric: He is very sad. He lets you speak as long as you want. Once you're done he leaves for a second and makes a call to Emira and Amity. He then cuddles and watches tv with you. He also keeps complimenting you. Once Em and Amity come back it's pretty dang obvious they got into a fight. Mainly because despite being roughed up Emira kept laughing.

The Collector: Frist of all if you bully the Collector's friend then you're the biggest idiot in the world. When Terra was even slightly mean to King They turned her into a puppet. But they bring you a bunch of plushies and play with you. Once the Collector goes to the bullies you have to tell them not to hurt the bullies. He pinky swears to let you know he really won't. Well, whatever he did it definitely worked. But just to let you know, if it wasn't for you the Venn diagram of people who are mean to you and people on the missing person list would be a circle.

Lilith: Oh no, oh fuck no. Not happening. She gets Hooty to comfort you while she leaves. Side note Hooty is weirdly good at comforting people. Any back with Lilith she is pissed and yelling at the bullies. She is not above threats. Anyway, they won't be going anywhere near you for a while.

Gus: He was also A victim of Boscha's and Amity's bullying.  Very upset. Y'know what Emira did but? Yeah, he does that but all at once. Like that one scene with Bria's illusions. Listen he is not going to tolerate any more bullying.

#toh x reader #the owl house x reader #hunter x reader #golden gaurd x reader #hunter toh x reader #collector x reader #the collector x reader #lilith x reader #vee x reader #amity x reader #raine x reader #willow x reader #gus x reader #luz x reader #emira x reader #emira blight x reader #edric blight x reader #eda x reader #edric x reader #gus toh x reader

[twsted-kinks]

Broooo your smuts 🥵🥵 and you do watersports?? Can you do something about the twst cast taking it in their mouth? Whether reader is riding/fucking their face or character is holding them down and forcing it, but humiliation + piss PLEASEEE. The riddle gangbang when he got stuck on the knot is so hot that i wanted to send something abt it but its rare to see watersports in twst lol

Also can i be 💦 anon?

Sjsjsns I have an anon now? Yes definitely you can be 💦 anon. And thank you for enjoying my writing! I'm not gonna write all characters at once cause that's a lot, so I'll write for the dorm leaders for now. Will probably write more characters later but gonna start with them for now. Also this got a but more out of hand and kinda become more of what its like being in a relationship with them and piss kink activities snsndndn. There's still some humiliation there but these became more generalized.

TWST Dorm Leaders and MC/Reader's Piss Scenarios/Headcanons

Content Warning: some guys have dicks some guys have cunts, piss, piss drinking (both on purpose and accidental), golden showers, piss marking, piss being used as tea, humiliation and praise, dom/sub dynamics, unhealthy jealousy, dubcon scenarios (mostly just being annoyed), whatever the fancy word is for finding crying hot

(Note: MC/Reader and each character (seperate at least this time) have a pre-established relationship)

Riddle

At first, Riddle wants nothing to do with piss. The first time he accidentally pisses himself while you two are intimate, everything stops immediately, and he's crying, apologizing, everything. Even when you tell him you like piss, when he feels like he's about to pee himself, Riddle safewords and goes to the bathroom. He seems really embarrassed and, at this point, your sex life is mostly vanilla with him, so you don't push the subject really. But now you have to find a different way to get your piss fix, so you decide to pursue some solo fantasies, one of them just so happens to include drinking piss from a teacup.

So, one day you're chilling in your bedroom at the Ramshackle dorm, pouring your own piss from a teapot into a little cup, when you're pulled away for a moment because Grim got his claws stuck in a couch cushion. Just as you're pulling Grim's claws out, trying to not hurt him or ruin the couch, Riddle decides to stop in for a visit. Not even thinking, you tell Riddle to just wait in your room until you get Grim free. Once you finally do, you get back to your room to find your boyfriend has poured himself his own cup and sipping with a delighted smile. You pause in the doorway as he finishes the cup and asks you "I don't think I've ever had this type of tea before? It's a strange taste, but also an enjoyable one. I quite like it." You take a deep breath, step into your room, and close the door behind you. "Riddle," you say in a calm voice, "I love you, so I won't lie to you. That isn't tea. That's my... urine."

After a beat of silence, Riddle screams, face red, cup dropped, and collars you with his spell on instinct. Riddle is panicking. He just told his partner, the person he loves dearly, that he likes the taste of their piss. He's in such a state if panic that he doesn't even think to question why your piss would be in a teapot in the first place. It takes a moment to calm him down and get him to a point he can have a coherent thought. You apologize to him and explain your piss kink, hoping that he won't dump you for this. His face is still red and his hands are shaking, but he talks with you. Riddle is still hesitant, but the fact that he loves you and apparently likes the taste if your pee has him come to the conclusion that he wants to try this fetish out with you.

After trying some stuff out, Riddle finds that he ABSOLUTELY has a piss kink too and gets very subby with anything piss related. You controlling his bladder, watching him piss, pressing on his bladder, you holding his little dick as he pees for you. All of it riles him up and has him melting for you. Though, his favorite piss related activities have to do with drinking your piss. It's almost like he'd addicted. From him giving you head and pissing on his face, you riding/fucking his face and forcing your piss down his throat. It's so good. It's also now a regular thing for your dates to include one of you pissing into a teapot and making eyes at each other while you sip on your cups.

Leona

Leona is not shy about his piss kink. Every time he fucks you, he has to either pee on your or inside you. It's also a regular occurrence for him to piss on you or make you open you mouth and drink his piss at random times. What's really happening is either he can smell his sent is fading off of you or he smells someone else's scent on you. Everyone needs to know that you're his. The other beastmen can smell it plain as day and know to treat you both with respect and fear because of Leona's claim on you. But, non-beastmen have a hard time picking up on it.

You're hanging out with your buddies during lunch when someone gets a bit too close to you. At points this person would even wrap an arm around you. You pull his arm off you the first time, but, when he does it again, you chew the guy out and you and your buddies kick him out of the table. Still, there was enough of him getting to close to you where Ruggie decided to snap a picture and send it to Leona.

Now, Leona's been having a shit day already, so, when he sees a picture of you and someone else's hand on your shoulder, he is livid. It's not long before he is storming into the cafeteria, pulling you away, and dragging you to a secluded area of the garden. You try to ask him what's wrong, but he just growls for you to get on your knees. You've had enough of his shit though. Anytime he's in a mood, he thinks he can just wip his dick out and have you take care of him. Well, now you're pissed. You've been having a shit day too.

"No!" You growl back. "I'm tired of always being the urinal.. You get on YOUR knees for once!"

Leona is taken aback. His cheeks turn a light shade of red, and he turns his back to you. "Tsk, if you're not into it-"

"That's not what I said, and you know it!" You yank on his tail, making him hiss. "Now, if you want to pee on me, get on your knees and let me pee on you first."

Leona hesitates. You grab a fistful of Leona's hair and tug both his tail and hair at the same time. This time you earn a mewl from the beastman. "Yes or no, Leona."

"F-fine." Leona mutters.

Now, Leona is on his knees in front of you as you undress yourself, freeing yourself to reveal your lower body. You grab his hair and yank it, making him look up at you. You take a breath in, relaxing, and your stream starts. It starts weak but quickly gets to full force as you drench his face. You aim your stream downward, soaking his uniform. He groans, and you can see his cock start to get hard through his pants. You focus your stream on his cock and watch as he begins stroking himself through the wet fabric.

And that's how you learn how to get Leona into a subspace. Turns out Leona is a little piss slut who becomes the perfect fuck toy when you give him a golden shower. He'll deny it with a blush and fight you whenever you want to dom, but simply sitting next to Leona and complaining you need to take a piss will get him on his knees between your legs. You also discovered you can get Leona to cum untouched by simply pissing on his face and calling him things like "a desperate little kitten" and "my pretty urinal slut."

Azul

Azul crying during sex is a common occurrence. The first time he squirted ink had Azul sobbing, but you were able to convince him you actually found it very sexy by licking up what ink you could. Azul finally gets that it turns you on, but still it embarrass him to no end. He still cries just about every time you have sex with him. You were concerned at first, but you can't help but find his tears cute and even sexy. Azul is a needy sub, crying as he begs for you to fill his cunt with your cock/strap, and will whine for you to make him cum again and again until he can't physically take it anymore. He needs you to fuck him and ruin his cunt, slap it, stretch it wide open, just abuse it.

Though, one day you stuff Azul a bit too much. You double stuff him, fucking his cunt with a two dildo strap/a dildo and your cock. Azul cums HARD and becomes an absolute mess. He squirts ink all over your torso along with covering you in piss. He's out of it af first, but, as soon as he realizes what happened, he's freaking out and sobbing. You have to stop everything you're doing and go into comfort mode. It takes a while but he finally calms down. Again, he's hesitant when you say you find it sexy, but you eventually convince him. The two of you don't really bring it up again for a while until Azul asks you about why you like it one day. He admits to looking up some watersports stuff and wants to try some stuff with you. What he really wants though, is for you to control his bladder.

One day, you're bringing him big glass of water to his office while Jade and Floyd are there, and Azul tries to play everything off as normal with a very obvious blush on his face. Jade and Floyd can at least tell you're there for fun and not work, so they leave you and their boss alone.

Kalim

Not really humiliated once he figures out he has a piss kink. Just loves drinking your pee, begs for it with puppy dog eyes. Him figuring it out is an adventure though. You were fucking his cunt hard with your strap/cock. He was just so out of it and he thought he was just gonna squirt, but he just ended up pissing all over you. Post nut clarity had him apologizing with a deep blush, but you telling him you're into it has him relieved and surprisingly very excited. He ends up drinking a lot of water before having sex with you and pissing all over you when you fuck him. When your bring up you pissing on him, Kalim is ALL for it.

The first time you pissed on him, he got unbelievably turned on, jerking off his clit while your stream soaks his hair and chest. When you tell him to open his mouth, he eagerly opens it. You don't even have to tell him to drink, as soon as your piss touches his tongue, he's drinking it down. Turns out, he loves the taste of your piss. It actually becomes almost an addiction for him. He gives you a pleading look daily and will pull you into whatever semi-private place he can get to so you can piss down his throat. And please, PLEASE, runs your fingers through his hair and call him a good boy as he drinks your piss. He'll be happy to eat your cunt out/suck you cock too! Especially if him getting you off rewards him with your piss.

Does Jamil learn about Kalim's kink? Yes, yes he does. Who else would do Kalim's laundry? He doesn't say anything, but you do notice the look he gives you sometimes. Its actually kinda funny. Kalim will give you puppy dog eyes, and Jamil will glare at the two of you.

Vil

Vil is mostly a dom and is definitely the type to have a discussion about kinks before actually doing anything together. At first, he wants nothing to do with piss, he finds it kinda gross but won't tell you that when he finds out it's a major kink for you. It's a soft no for him (at first) when it comes to subbing. As a dom, he can't see himself getting off to it, but he's willing to do some watersports for your sake. It starts out rather tame with him giving you golden showers and gracing you with allowing you to drink his piss.

One day though, something clicks. You mentioned trying out some bladder control, which he agrees to, so he comes up with a little scenario. By the time he lets you pee, he has you crouched with your legs spread on a table/bed with him holding a champagne glass up to your urethra. He commands you to piss until the glass is filled a bit and then commands you to stop. He holds the glass to your lips and makes you drink. He repeats this a couple of times and gets curious. You love drinking piss. There has to be something to it. Why doesn't he have a taste. He takes a sip, and it all goes down hill from there.

He still usually doms you, but, when he subs, oh boy. He tries to act all put together, but once he's fully in subspace he's begging for your piss. Call him a dirty slut as you piss all over him and make him lick up your piss from the ground. Make him hold his piss until he can't hold it anymore and point his cock to his face as he pisses all over himself. You're cleaning the mess though once the session is over, but you also get to enjoy a nice bath with Vil as well.

Idia

Idia is shy when it comes to anything dealing with romance let alone sex, so there's no way he's telling you he has a piss kink. Luckily, with you often just spending time in his room while he is busy gaming means you've been through a good amount of his manga collection where he's done a pretty bad job of hiding his hentai.

One day, you get the opportunity to introduce watersports to your sexlife with Idia. Idia is so focused on his gaming because of an online event, he just tells you to come into his room without him scrambling to last minute clean whenever you visit. You enter and are ready to just chill on Idia's bed when you notice a bottle sitting on the floor by Idia's desk, a bottle with a suspiciously yellow liquid. You go over to his desk and pick the bottle up. Confused, Idia looks over and freezes as you examine the bottle. Before Idia can freak out, you unscrew the cap and start drinking. Idia watches and you take gulp after gulp and finish the bottle with a sigh. You comment that "he should drink more water" but, instead of responding, Idia just faints.

This event does open the door for talking more about sex with Idia though, but whenever you do Idia is getting hard by just talking about it. Once watersports is introduced into your sexlife, it goes from 0 to 100 almost immediately. Idia is absolutely ravenous. Idia already loves it when you sit on his face and now, with the element of you pissing in his face and in his mouth, he's cumming untouched as you drench him. Mix your degrading words with some praise and he's absolutely in subspace. Use him as your urinal PLEASE! Just mention the need to go to the bathroom, and he's fully in subspace and is on his knees.

He also loves pissing on you and you controlling his bladder, but his favorite thing is when you hold his dick as he pisses. Now whenever he has a serious gaming session, he has empty bottles ready. He just gives you a signal, and you pull his cock out of his pants and hold it along with the bottle for him to piss in. Does he always get hard whenever this happens? Yes, but you gladly jerk/suck him off as well.

Malleus

Malleus already has a big thing for marking you with bites and hickies and you marking him back is a serious turn on. One day though, you greet Malleus and his usual smile turns into a frown as he leans in and sniffs you. You know fae have a better sense of smell than humans some on par of most beastmen. Apparently, Malleus smells your friends' scents more than his own and is upset by it. Without thinking, you joke about him claiming you with his piss, and Malleus looks at you with a light bulb going turning on in his head. He's never thought about doing that before, but now he really wants to.

So, now Malleus regularly marks you with his piss. It can be during sex or just casually when you two are hanging out. There will be times you two are walking together outside of the Ramshackle dorm and Malleus starts sucking and nibbling on your neck. You immediately know what that means and your nightly outdoor makeout session starts. You hand easily slips into Malleus's pants and rub your fingers along Malleus's slit. Malleus moans into your mouth as you slip your fingers inside and run your fingers along the tips of his still sheathed cocks. It doesn't take long for his cocks and balls to slip out of his slit and into your hands. You're undoing each others bottoms and Malleus's cocks rut against your stomach. That's when Malleus starts to piss all over your torso as you two continue to makeout. Malleus whines when you pull away, but laying against some rubble and opening you legs to reveal your cock/cunt has him eagerly and his knees for you and begging you to mark him too. You grab his horns and pull his face to your cock/cunt and begin pissing on him. He moans as you drench his hair and face. He eagerly opens his mouth and lets you piss fill his mouth and drip down his chin.

All the beastmen and fae can smell Malleus's scent on you. Even if you wash yourself after, Malleus's scent is strong and they avoid you in fear of Malleus getting jealous. Your scent on Malleus isn't as strong, so he asks you to mark him whenever he smells your scent fading or after he bathes. Yeah, he can't go out in public being soaked in your urine, but some quick magic dries him off and makes him presentable while leaving the scent of your piss marking on him.

#twst smut #twst writings #answers #twst x reader #piss kink #twst piss #twst riddle smut #twst leona smut #twst azul smut #twst Kalim smut #twst vil smut #twst idia smut #twst Malleus smut #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #azul x reader #leona x reader #kalim x reader #vil x reader #idia x reader #malleus x reader