#ANYWAY I FUCKING LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH

[acekindaneat]

From the work "If At First You Don't Succeed, Find A Loophole" by MalkyTop (@sleepdepravity) on ao3!!!!

(even with my busy schedule .. i had to draw today's update, it drove me insane)

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

themthemthemthemthemthemthem-

[crybaby-bkg]

I loveee the concept of reincarnation bc it’s just so comforting!!!

oh to be reincarnated lovers with Bakugou where you find each other every life time and leave a memory of the other to find in the next lifetime. You see each other in a new lifetime, drawn to each other, swearing familiarity even though your minds disagree. But it’s something deeper within you that knows each other, misses the others embrace, and you can’t figure out why.

There’s a famous painting of someone who looks suspiciously like you made in the 1600s by some tortured artist, the muse a lover he had lost years before. There’s a statue that looks just like Bakugou from the 1800s, who everyone thought to be created after Apollo, but you beg to differ. There are letters found between two lovers, one gone off to war and the other at home, their exchange of love something poets discuss in contemporary times. Theres even skeletons found embracing each other, with one’s head tucked into the others neck.

And for some reason, every time, these figments of love appeal to you deeper than anyone else around you. They’re so familiar, and you think you might be going crazy when flashes of memories start to plague you.

Sitting in a darkly lit room, a slate of white marble in front of you, a point chisel in hand. There’s a blond man sitting behind the marble, with a sly grin, as your hands raise to start chipping away at its flawless perfection.

Sitting at home, writing away with a quilled pen to a lover you miss. Kissing the edge of the paper and pulling away to find it stained with red from your lips.

Laying in the soft grass, your face hidden in a strong neck as heavy winds start to take over you. Your arms entangled in another’s, tilting your face up to kiss a blond, stubbled jaw.

When Bakugou tells you he remembers the same things, you wonder if you’re both just on a bad trip from a drug you don’t remember taking. But you carve your names in tree trunks and wonder if you’ll find find it again hundreds of years later, if you’ll see him again, if you’ll create another piece of your unyielding love on every crevice of the earth.

[alien-bluez]

Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High?

+ more under the cut!

check out this fic inspired by this piece above! It's very very good.

[ladsofsorrow24]

yuri sasunaru... based of this very nice fic by @greatloverslieinhell

[stellariah]

foolish heart, common tongue — Mammon x reader

⊹ word count: 1.8k ⊹ content: sfw, slightly suggestive, fluff to angst to fluff again, light marking (love bites), Mammon is a little possessive but not in a creepy way, Mammon calls you "sunshine", reader/MC is referred to as you/your. ⊹ warnings: none. ⊹ a/n: hi. I love Mammon. Sorry for making him sad here.

Mammon thought he was in love with the sun. He has been trying to convince himself that is why his heart feels so hollow.

It was the way that its rays shimmered and danced along your sleeping frame in the early morning.

Your little snores and sighs had stirred him awake. He woke up disoriented, still not entirely believing that you were really there—that he was really there. But there you both were, tangled in your soft sheets and the warmth of each others’ embraces in your bed in the Human World.

He spent a long time just watching you sleep, the sunbeams shifting from a gentle orange to pale amber to a vibrant yellow as the minutes slipped by. They paint your skin and hair like a canvas. A living, breathing work of art.

It was the way that its rays sparkled in your irises, making them glisten like tiny pools of molten gold, as you blinked away the sleep. You shined brighter than a pile of a million Grimm—more than any gem or jewel or coin he’s ever seen.

It was the way that its warmth made your skin feel beneath his lips as he made a trail from your chest to your neck, to your cheeks to your lips, to fully wake you up. He loved the way your heated skin tingled his lips.

You giggled at first, still in a sleepy stupor. But as his lips travelled higher and higher, your laughter faded to soft whimpers. When you moaned his name and thread your fingers in his hair, he thought his heart would beat out of his chest. He craved you. He was greedy for you.

“Good morning, Mamms,” you sighed, your eyes fully opened.

“Mornin’, my sunshine.”

You pulled him into a searing kiss, lips to lips, and your sun-warmed hands traced along the marks on his chest. He was so lost in your touch that he didn’t feel you flip him over. You were stunning wrapped up in your sheets, but somehow you're even more so with your smiley face above him, illuminated by the sun.

It was the way the faint pinky-reds and oranges and purples of the sunset sky illuminated the love bite he made on your neck as you made dinner that evening.

The mark itself was faint on your skin, but the sunset streaming through the kitchen window streaked the tender punctures with its inky plum, lush coral, and soft scarlet. He glided his fingers along the expanse of your neck, narrowly avoiding a swat from the spoon in your hand, feeling the tiny indents and watching the colours shift as he disturbed the rays. He lowered his head to trace it with his lips and tongue as he tugged the fabric of your shirt down to reveal more of your skin—of his marks on his human—to his greedy fingers and mouth.

“Mammon, I’m trying to cook,” you chided, trying and failing to wiggle your way out of his grasp.

“I can’t help it. I need ya.”

“You always need me.”

“Never,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to your skin between your newly exposed shoulder blades. “Enough.”

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” you laughed as you spun around in his hold, flicking the stove off as you went.

“Maybe you should stop making it so easy to love ya.”

“Mammon,” you said, as you cupped his face in your hands. He leaned into your touch, nuzzling his nose along your palm. “I want you to love me.”

It was the way that the sun was gone when his heart was ripped from his chest.

He knew that he and his brothers could not stay in the Human World forever. But, when the night of their departure came, he didn’t expect that you would be staying.

You told him it was to continue studying with Solomon and developing your magical abilities. He thought that was bullshit. You could keep studying in the Devildom. You argued. He yelled. You cried. He cried, too, because there was no way he could change your mind.

The moon shone across your face as he stepped towards the portal that would take him home. He hates the moon for making him see you so sad.

He watched as you hugged each of his brothers, exchanging whispered promises to stay in touch and make it home safely as they stepped one by one through the portal. He watched as your face crumpled when you stepped towards him. He still couldn’t believe that you were not coming with him. How was he supposed to leave you here?

“Mammon, I love you,” you cried as you wrapped him in your arms.

And like the coward he is, he pulled himself from your embrace and stepped into the portal without a word. He watched you fall to your knees, sobs wracking your body, before you disappeared.

He’s awake with a jolt—his head colliding with his textbook—and you’re not there. There’s no sun either.

He had fallen asleep in class again. It’s been months of this recurring nightmare. As he rubs his eyes, he smears fallen tears across his cheekbones. The pages he has fallen asleep on are wet and warped.

He doesn’t miss the sun. He doesn’t love the sun. It’s always been you. He loves you, but he’s ruined everything.

“Is it the same dream again?” Satan asks quietly from the desk beside him.

He just nods refusing to raise his head. He didn’t need to explain his tears anymore. His brothers all knew. Asmodeus casts a knowing look from across the classroom and Leviathan pats his shoulder as he exits. Mammon wants the ground to swallow him whole.

He manages to gather his books and exit the classroom, but his feet just won’t work the way they should. He stumbles several times as he tries to get down the hallway to his next class. After tripping again and slamming into a set of lockers, he resigns, weary frame and broken heart finally crushing him to the ground. Mammon curls himself into a ball and sobs until sleep finally takes him.

The next time he wakes, Mammon is in his room in the House of Lamentation. He doesn’t know how he got there. Honestly, he really doesn’t care. His bed is comforting and your sweater he has wrapped around his pillow still smells faintly of you.

He opens a bleary eye to quickly check his D.D.D. There’s a text from Beel letting him know that he and Lucifer found him and carried him back to his room and that Belphie was coming to check on him. He stamps out a quick “thanks” and then tucks his nose among the threads of your sweater. He tries to fall asleep again, but an incessant banging on his door disrupts him as soon as his eyes get heavy.

“Who's banging on my door?! Get lost!”

“Mammon, it’s me,” Belphie calls from the other side, the wood panel muffling him. “I think you are gonna want to come out here.”

“Oi, I said fuck off! I’m tryna sleep!”

The door splitters against the wall with the force Belphegor uses to fling it open. The sound of the wood cracking and the flood of hallway light make Mammon dizzy.

“Belphie, I ain’t telling ya again. Get out,” he warns, but his youngest brother persists, yanking him from his bed. Mammon hisses, but it does nothing to dissuade Belphegor.

“You’re coming with me. Stop being a baby,” he scolds as he carries Mammon out of his room.

“Oi, I’m not a-”

His retort dies in his throat at the sight of you down the corridor. Your hair has gotten longer and your eyes are blown wide, but it's you. His human.

He’s dreaming still—he has to be. There is no way that you’re here. Mammon pinches his arm and rubs his eyes as Belphegor sets him on his feet.

“It’s not a dream, Mammon,” Lucifer says from somewhere behind him.

There is no sun in the Devildom, but he has never felt warmer or brighter than he does right now, watching his soulmate run to reach his waiting arms. As soon as you are within reach, he grabs you, pulling you tight against his chest and nuzzling his face along your neck.

“Sunshine,” he sobs, voice broken but so full. “You’re here. You’re really here.”

“I’m sorry for being away for so long.”

“When do ya have to go back?”

“Mammon, I’m not going back.”

“What?”

“I’m not going back. At least not for any extended period of time. Being away for that long was torture.”

“You’re telling me,” he chuckles as you swat his chest playfully.

By the next breath, he has you up off your feet and in his room, slamming the fractured door behind him to muffle the cries of protest from his brothers.

“What happened to the-”

“Ah, Belphie got angry 'cause I wasn’t coming out and broke it,” he replies before dropping you unceremoniously on the bed. With a brief incantation and a swish of your wrist, the door is as good as new and the sounds from the corridor cease entirely.

“What did ya do?”

“Magic,” you laugh as you wag your fingers in the air. “So we can have some time alone, if that’s okay?”

“I love you,” Mammon blurts out, as your expression morphs from giddiness to pensiveness as you wait for him to continue. “Sunshine, I was a coward. I can’t believe I didn’t say it to ya back before I left. I’m so sorry. I love you. I’ll love ya forever.”

“Mammon, you’re not a coward. We should have talked more about my stay. It was my fault.” Mammon shakes his head and you sigh. You’re just as stubborn as he is.

“Now get your ass over here. We have months of cuddles to make up.”

He is in your embrace again in an instant. He missed the feeling of your body wrapped around him—the smell of your shampoo as he lays kiss after kiss on your forehead, along your cheeks, and down your neck. When he finally reaches your lips, you’re crying and he wipes at your tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“I love you, Mammon. More than anything. And I’m not going anywhere without you again.”

Though the Devildom was dark and sunless, he has existed here for millennia without some burning star. He has his sunshine in his arms, and this time, he is never letting you go.

©stellariah 2024 | do not copy, repost, translate, or feed my work to AI

[shivroy]

future shiv

[chrisrin]

hell’s comin’ with me.

based on the fic ‘Alternate Universe’ by Unda. 

[secondbeatsongs]

when you're into the Big Ship™ in a Big Fandom™, you have the luxury of having an OTP - a real One True Pairing, where you can read about just them for ages, and you will never run out of fics, and everything is perfect and beautiful and nothing hurts

but when you go to a smaller fandom, you'd better pray to whatever god you worship that someone else in this room ships the same thing that you do, and that if they do, they're writing more than late-night crackfic, because you're on thin fucking ice!

and how small is your small fandom? is it less than 100 fics? maybe even...less than 20 fics?

welp, then it's time to make peace with that god and either open up a text document or learn how to ship everything, because it's swim or drown babey! and your ship is sinking fast

anyway all of this is to say that after hanging out in small fandoms and shipping less-common pairings for a while, going back into a Big Huge Fandom™ is wild because suddenly it's like...wait, why didn't I ship these people again? I don't remember. why was I only sticking to one ship in this fandom?? boring of me, honestly. these guys should make out.

[youngpettyqueen]

Julian's line of "I needed another womb for the baby, and the only two other people on board were Major Kira and me." is already very. That Man Is Trans. and listen yes you can interpret it as him saying Kira was the only choice, but then it's literally followed up by Sisko saying "I think you made the right choice, Doctor." which I know is supposed to be a joke but the implication IS there that there WAS a choice and basically Julian is trans

[firenati0n]

wip wednesday <3 :)

hello friends :) happy wednesday, hope you are well! happiest of birthdays to my babygirl Alex Claremont-Diaz, love you endlessly my beautiful big brained bisexual disaster with a heart of gold

thank you to @jellibuns @junebugclaremontdiaz @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @piratefalls @bigassbowlingballhead @leojfitz @ships-to-sail @suseagull04 @dragonflylady77 @kiwiana-writes @onthewaytosomewhere @wordsofhoneydew @priincebutt @magicandarchery @leaves-of-laurelin @eusuntgratie @duchessdepolignaca03 @saturntheday @itsmaybitheway @captainjunglegym @indestructibleheart @oxfordslutphase @tailsbeth-writes for the tags this week and on sunday :)

here's a snip from a tiny spy au coming this week if i can wrangle these men into submission:

“I'm serious, Alex. No theatrics. Certainly no blood. What's the code for trouble?” “Barracuda.” Henry clicks his tongue. “Too many syllables for my taste.” “Your name is too many syllables for my taste, yet you don't see me complaining.” “Touché.” He grasps Alex's shoulder, taking a long look into Alex's eyes. Henry's body is serene, but his eyes are always his tell for Alex. They're cloudy, tense; murky waters. “Be careful, please. We both know how dangerous these men are. Manu is unpredictable, even as the mafia equivalent of a middle manager.” “Aw, worried about me, sweetheart?” Alex grins, but it's a little unsteady, faltering at the edges. “Henry. This is easy. And if I’m lucky, no dicks will have to come out.” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. He really, really doesn’t want any dicks out this time. “See you in five, okay?” He squeezes Henry's arm, then slips out of the supply closet. Back to work.

xoxo roop

+ no pressure tags below the cut and open tag as always <3 tag me if you use :)

@ninzied @cha-melodius @sparklepocalypse @cricketnationrise @orchidscript @getmehighonmagic @myheartalivewrites @welcometololaland @anincompletelist @nocoastposts @tintagel-or-cockleshells @sherryvalli @lizzie-bennetdarcy @heysweetheart-writes @inexplicablymine @onward--upward @celeritas2997 @affectionatelyrs @14carrotghoul @rmd-writes @cultofsappho @anchoredarchangel @candyspandemonium @porcelainmortal @kj-bee @nontoxic-writes

[teacakeezz]

Wet cats first meeting wip

[alttheloco]

Guys, we gotta stop leaving Becky out of the bitb polycule. Kian’s got six hands, dammit!!

[bonetrousledbones]

sometimes you just gotta draw things that would make your child self go batshit insane

[lionbearfox]

Finally finished this one!! I love these two and their dynamic i wish we saw more of them in game (+ a bonus below the readmore)

[sleepytownez]

An excruciatingly long slow-burn fanfiction could fix him. (Debatable)