#I'm normal about this I swear.

[devildom-moss]

Flowers for Them (Beelzebub)

Continuation of a request where MC returns the favor for the characters giving them roses. Kind of a sequel series for the Roses for You series (links here)

Beelzebub x gn!MC

(Suggestive)

Word Count: +1,400

Magenta lilacs

You had spent all morning preparing for your date with Beel while he was busy at practice. The thought of finally being able to return the favor and present him with a bouquet of flowers had you giddy. All the planning and consideration that went into the selection would hopefully pay off when you surprised him.

Beelzebub happily hurried home after practice – not even stopping for a snack. He knew he had a date with you, even if you refused to tell him what you had planned, and he was eager to return home, get ready, and spend the rest of his day with you.

By the time Beel stepped foot in the entrance to the House of Lamentation, you were already waiting in the twins’ bedroom with a picnic basket. Belphegor lazily made conversation with you while snuggling up to his pillow in his bed; he was clearly tired and ready for another nap, but Belphie couldn’t resist the desire to keep you company while he had you to himself. Beel made his way upstairs to drop off his equipment and get a change of clothes, recalling that you told him he could wear something casual and comfortable. When he entered the room, he was surprised to see you there.

“Oh! MC, were you waiting long?” Beel asked, dropping his bag near the foot of his bed.

“Not at all. How was practice?”

“Good.” Beel approached you with a smile and caressed down your cheek before tilting your chin up and stealing a quick kiss. Belphegor groaned and turned over in his bed so that he didn’t have to watch. When Beel pulled away, his grin was softer and sweeter than before. “Do you mind if I take a quick shower and change before we go?”

“Go ahead.” You smiled reassuringly. “You know, I’m only here so early because I got too excited to see you. You can take your time.”

Beel’s shoulders relaxed at your admission. He glanced over at the red chair in the center of the room, and your eyes followed his. “Will those clothes work for our date?”

A pair of shorts with flame patterns printed along the hem, a black cropped sleeveless shirt, and a deep red overshirt were sitting on the chair – thoughtfully laid out earlier that morning. Next to the chair was a pair of lightly worn black, red, and white sneakers. “Yes, Beel, that will be fine. I’m sure you’ll look handsome.”

“I’m glad.” Beel smiled shyly, proud of himself. He grabbed a towel and headed for the bathroom, but before he left, he added, “I’ll be back soon.”

When Beel returned to the room shortly after in a towel, it was hard to tell whether he had forgotten to grab his clothes or if he intended to change in front of you the entire time. You watched as drops of water dripped from his hair and fell down his bare chest. With a light blush on his cheeks, Beel caught your gaze, causing you to quickly avert your eyes.

“Sorry,” you mumbled an apology.

“You can watch if you want to,” Beel shrugged, “I don’t mind.”

So, you did; you soaked in every second as Beel’s exposed muscular body was covered once more. It was hard to tell if seconds or minutes had passed before Beel slipped his shoes on and offered you his hand.

“Ready to go?” he asked. You nodded, grabbing the picnic basket. “See ya later, Belphie.”

Belphegor moaned sleepily and forced his arm up to wave goodbye to you both.

The location you had planned for the picnic was only a short walk away from the House of Lamentation. Less than a minute into the walk, Beel offered to carry the picnic basket for you, which you agreed to so long as he didn’t peek inside. Beel nodded, taking the basket, and followed your lead happily – like a puppy, content to go wherever you took him as long as you continued to guide him with his hand in yours. He thought to ask where you were taking him, but he trusted you, and that was enough to keep him quiet on the matter.

You arrived at a field near a lake. The moonlight shined alone along the surface of the water with the light pollution from the nearby city dulling the stars. It was such a lovely scene that Beel immediately knew that you had reached your destination. He set the basket down near the edge of the water where the grass was low and fewer wildflowers were growing.

“Here is okay, right?” Beel asked.

“It’s perfect.” You beamed at him, but your smile grew confused as Beel took off his overshirt and spread it out, signaling you to sit on it. “Uhm, Beel, I brought a blanket for us to sit on.”

“Oh.” Beel shyly picked his shirt off the ground and tied it around his hips while you pulled the blanket out of the picnic basket. You spread it out over the spot he picked out and flamboyantly gestured for him to take a seat, causing Beel to chuckle.

“I told you I’d plan everything, didn’t I?” You caressed his cheek with your thumb, causing it to warm and grow pink beneath your touch. “But that was very sweet of you. And speaking of sweet, close your eyes for me, alright?”

Beel softly shut his eyes – half-expecting you to kiss him. When he heard you rummaging through the picnic basket, a different anticipation rose in him. You had prepared an array of lilac flavored food and drink: lilac lemonade, a limited spring flavored lilac Demonus that a certain witch had helped you procure, lilac honeycomb pancakes, lilac syrup, lilac honey posset, lilac shortbread cookies, lilac and acid lavender sweet butter with a loaf of milk bread, and lilac and hell rose lollipops. As you set up your picnic spread, Beel sniffed the air; everything smelled so sweet and delicious.

You pulled the last item out of the basket – a bouquet of magenta lilacs – and held them out for Beel before announcing, “Ta-da.”

Eagerly, Beel opened his eyes. He was visibly taken aback by the flowers you had thrust towards him. His hands reached out and settled over yours. “Are these for me?”

“It’s all for you.”

Beel took the flowers in his arms, the scent engulfing him and making him even hungrier, tempting him to take a bite directly from the bouquet itself. However, he restrained himself and smiled at you, helplessly enamored. “I’m not used to getting flowers. They smell good.”

“All the food and drink contain lilac. I was hoping that would keep you from being tempted to eat the bouquet.”

Beel let out a deep and gentle chuckle. “You know me so well.”

“I’d hope so. If you really want to eat the bouquet, you can, but I wanted to encourage you to wait long enough for me to tell you what magenta lilacs mean.” Beel’s mouth formed an “o,” and he pulled the flowers closer to his chest while staring at you expectantly. You continued, “they convey passion and a deep, unrestrained love. That’s what I feel when I think of you.”

Beel felt a shiver run up his spine, but the romantic mood was dampened by a subsequent growling from his stomach. Beel’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink – affection, desire, and embarrassment swirling inside him. With hazy, lidded eyes and drool threatening to spill from the side of his mouth, Beel stared at you. “Please. . . feed me.”

You happily obliged him, coating a stack of pancakes with lilac syrup and lifting a forkful up to Beel’s lips. He took a bite, still maintaining eye contact with you. As he chewed, a blissful look came over his handsome face, and you were quickly distracted by a drop of syrup clinging to his lower lip – glimmering and sweet. You wanted to lick it off him. Perhaps Beel could tell from the way you were looking at him, or maybe he was simply overcome by his own desire, but he leaned in and captured your lips. What started soft quickly deepened as Beel set the bouquet of lilacs to the side. Between the sweet taste of his lips and the heat of his breath, you were hardly concerned with how your bodies came together – how you ended up on your back with Beel on top of you, your hands wandering all over his body. When Beel pulled back, his blush had reached his ears.

“Maybe I should be restrained,” Beel admitted in a whisper. He lowered himself until his lips were just above your neck. “I’m so hungry.”

Lucifer | Mammon | Leviathan | Satan | Asmodeus | Belphegor | the others

(If there's no link, that character is coming soon-ish)

[lovetositinsilence]

a moment for themselves

[3hobbitsinatrenchcoat]

[kermit-coded]

thinking about how both kristen and buddy died so easily. how they were treated as disposable sacrifices by both their church and their god and their community. thinking about "helio wouldn't have let that happen" and thinking about kristen dying on the first day of school despite being the chosen one. thinking about how the religious conservatives are always the first to cry "think of the children!" and then being the ones to harm their children the most in the end.

[tar-frogs]

no bc it's not too late. i found your heart, it's still beating. there's still time. come with me. life doesn't have to feel this way. it's not supposed to feel this way. the person you want to be, the person you're capable of becoming has been inside you this whole time. look inside, open up; you're not hollow or empty you are full of life and love and color and everything you thought you could be and so much more. and it's not too late. you can still find yourself. there's still time. you're not gone. your heart is still beating. but you're dying. you're dying slowly, and quickly. and time isn't right. and you're so much more than this. you were so much more than this. you ARE so much more than this. you can escape. we can escape. you don't have to be alone, none of us do. we can be free and ourselves, away from the shackles of where we once held ourselves, of where other people kept us. there's still time. but time is moving fast. and time is moving slow. time is moving constantly. everything is shifting, moving. nothing is stagnant. except for you. but you don't have to be. you are everything. you are nothing if you don't try to be. you are whole. and you are wonderful. and you could be everything you could've ever dreamt of. and there is still time

[bluebells-and-dragonflies]

God, the intimacy of Astarion feeding from you.

Astarion drinking from your neck as he pulls your body closer to his in bed, his chest up against your back, his arms wrapped around your waist. It's a casual thing, now, his whispered can I? and your answering nod, as much a part of your bedtime routine as your bath or his curl care. You sigh as his fangs pierce your skin and his fingers flex against your stomach. His breath hitches when the taste of you hits his tongue, and that's familiar too, the physicality of it, the noises he makes low in his throat as he drinks, the way he grows warmer against you as your blood begins to flow through his veins. Nothing else makes you feel so heady, so intoxicated- so comforted.

Astarion drinking from your wrist when he’s starving for it and can’t wait to get you more comfortable. Pulling him into an alleyway one night on the way home from the Elfsong because you can see how badly he's craving in the way he can't keep his eyes off of the pulse point in your neck. He seizes your arm with both hands (can I? Yes-), bringing the soft skin on the inside of your wrist to his lips. He has just enough presence of mind to kiss the heel of your hand distractedly before he bites, fangs sliding through your skin and into the vein. The sound he makes can only be described as a growl, something feral and possessive (and you'll never tell him that it turns you on, since he would be insufferable about it- a promise to yourself that lasts exactly as long as the space between the moment and the next time you're tipsy and want him).

(NSFW Below!)

Astarion drinking from your inner thigh, one hand holding your leg steady and the other cupping your cunt. You groan, eyes shut in pleasure, as his thumb comes to rub your clit. The pain of the bite is barely pain this way- it collides with the pleasure in your belly and sends you almost out of your mind, overwhelmed with sensation and heat. He takes you all the way there, takes just enough from you to have you relaxed and pliant and soaring somewhere above your own body, plays you like an instrument with all the knowledge of you he's gathered over the months, the years. He knows when you're close, knows to crook his fingers inside you just so, knows the reaction he's going to get when he pulls away from your thigh for just a moment and looks up at you with dark eyes and tells you to come for him, he wants to see it, you fall apart so beautifully and it's all for him, isn't it, tell him how good he makes you feel and when you climax with his voice in your ear and the scent of blood on the air he has the audacity to laugh at how well he understands you, your body.

He's soft, after, softer than he'll ever be with anyone who isn't you. He licks you clean before he takes you to the bath, carrying you with the strength your lifeblood gives him. It's the least he can do for you, with everything you've given him: not just your body, but your trust, your closeness, and he will never stop being grateful.

[gauloiseblue]

You always joked about how you'd find out what's beneath his mask someday. Literally and figuratively.

He'd scoff at your attempts, or suggestions to lift up his sniper mask. Some of them caught him off guard, to the point he almost did it if not for his logical mind. But some of them were downright ridiculous, that he couldn't help but snort.

Maybe you already accepted it from the start, that he would never give in, but it had become a harmless jest at this point, so you might as well keep it going.

Until he gives you permission.

The thing is, it doesn't make you happy—it scares you to death instead. He once bit off someone's finger when they poked it in the place they shouldn't have touched. So what's behind the mask couldn't be worth the pain.

At first, you thought of it as a warning. Yet he wasn't showing any signs of threat. He even pulled you closer, so you'd get a better view of him.

His mask stays on, but he lets you touch his face. Your hands hover an inch away from his veiled visage, before you test the water with a touch.

He doesn't flinch away, or charge at you like a venomous snake. He stays still, letting your hands cup his cheeks.

"Didn't you say you wanna feel my face?" He said as he brought you closer, causing a shiver down on your spine.

"I did," Your lips trembled slightly, "I'm doing it."

"You're not doing it right." He tugged your paralyzed hands onto his chest.

You're confused when he firmly grips both of your hands, before slowly sliding them under the hem of his hood.

"Inside, maus." He commanded you, "Tell me what you feel."

And so, you complied.

You reach into his mask, and touch his neck tentatively. For a brief moment, his muscles tense under your fingertips, before they come down relaxed.

"Oh." You murmured as you pressed your palm onto his nape, "You can certainly survive a fighter jet ride."

He doesn't give you any response, so you take it as a cue to continue.

Your hands creep up higher, until your fingers reach the soft bones of his ears. They seem small in your grasp, smaller than they should, for a man of his height. A quiet smile spreads in your lips, as you imagine the tiny shells that frame both sides of his face.

"I'm surprised you have clear skin." You commented when you caressed his cheek, feeling the texture of his skin, "I thought you'd have a problem with it since you always wore a mask."

"Not always." He replied, nudging you to roam further, "I took it off whenever I'm alone."

"Did you take care of it?"

"No."

"How unfair." You chuckled, "I want to have your skin."

He keeps his eyes on you, and you feel the need to clear your throat, before you trace the lines on his face.

"You have a big nose." You mused as you ran your finger down from the bridge of his nose, "It's crooked."

He hums, while his eyes follow your uncertain gaze.

"Why you stopped?" He called you out, and you jumped upon hearing them, "There's one place you haven't touched."

You bit your lips, trembling, as you lowered your hand, until you felt the soft lumps on your fingertips.

They form a thin line, before they split open, inviting your finger inside. Your breathing becomes labored, as he takes a hold on your hand, guiding your thumb into his mouth.

He doesn't break eye contact the whole time, and you're too paralyzed to look away. You feel the sharpness of his teeth as his lips are closing around your digit. You have anticipated the guillotine falling on the head of your thumb, yet what comes after is a soft brush of his tongue.

It was rough, and drenched with his saliva, that it formed a string at the time your thumb left his mouth.

"König—" You gasped when he dragged his lips down to your palm, before stopping on your wrist. Pressing his tongue on your pulse point, where the skin barrier is so thin, that it feels as if he's tasting your flesh.

"Scared, maus?" He muttered, his teeth scraped against your skin, "Are you scared of me?"

You stare at him, as your instinct screams at you to nod. But you shake your head, despite the tremble in your hands.

"Then you'll do as I say." He wraps his arm around your waist, leaving no room for you to run, "Take off my mask."

Your eyes widened, not believing what you just heard from his mouth. Alas, his glare is enough to confirm the truth.

He guides your hands to his mask, pushing it up in a manner that's close to unveiling a white cover. And once the mask is lifted, you have no time to admire him as he slams his lips against yours.

Your cry of surprise is swallowed by his mouth, as he pushes his tongue between your lips. You can't do anything but cling to him, as he presses your body down with his, until your back is flush against the cushion.

When you open your eyes, what greets you is a pair of eclipses. Gone was the cruel Colonel, as he's replaced by a voracious brute.

The moment he opens his mouth, you know you'll be devoured by him.

[taytei]

he did, indeed, hit my like a stampede

[nicoriice]

arthur and john's designs througout the seasons,,, you can tell this podcast is altering my brain chemistry when it makes me draw 7 full body designs in the same day

[medusagorgongirl1]

Wanna know what I want to see more of in the Timkon Fandom? Good boyfriend Tim. I'm not saying fics that are 'Kon going through shit, and Tim is just there to be the 'good boyfriend that you could replace with literally any fucking character'

Im talking about Tim recognizing his anti social, pushing away the people he loves tendencies and realizing that he cannot act that way to Kon. I want Tim to realize the way the Kon love, and that he needs to put effort into making Kon feel loved. Like a lot of people that ship these think that they could just get together and tgat would be it, but like they would both have to effort into maintaining the relationship, and making the other feel loved and wanted.

Like I want Tim to start showing Kon more casual affection. Like throwing in the occasional pet name, holding hands more often, being more tactile, etc. Because kon thrives off of being reminded that he is loved. But like Kon would be thrown for a fucking loop every time Tim does something like that, because he knows that Tim is doing it for him, and that makes it 10 times more important. But like also vice versa with Kon acknowledging that sometimes Tim will throw his entire being in a case or project, and that's just how he is. Like I want Kon to understand that Tim is obsessive, like that's just a part of him and sometimes he just needs a bit of space to finish something before he can be a regular human again

It just, it annoys me that a lot of people that ship them don't think that their contrasting personalities and behaviors would ever cause any issues in their relationship. Like I wanna see more domestic timkon, where they have to work for their shared happiness

[winter-turtle]

Spider-Punk: *exists*

Me:

[ge0ky]

chilchuck!!!

[prone-to-fleeting-obsessions]

I could see Sunday being such a hypocrite when it comes to you

He's been trained to see everything, to catch every little flaw in his own appearance in order to appear calm, collected, and perfect, so it's obviously he sees those flaws in others, too

Poor posture, wrinkled clothing, fidgeting or avoiding eye contact, any form of non-eloquent speach... It eats at him, distracts from everything else

He picks up on everything in order to better read the people he's negotiating with, and behind that pleasant expression, there's sharp piercing judgment, indiscriminately sinking its claws into everybody he looks at, with one exception

You, his darling, can do no wrong

Any small oversights he'll just smile happily and fix himself, meticulously combing through your hair with gentle fingers while praising how pretty and soft it is, cupping your face to analyze those pretty eyes when you look nervous with nothing but his own loving worry reflected back, and your amusing little turns of phrase only make you more endearing, he's just so hopelessly smitten

We've seen how he's no stranger to sticking with a belief, even when heavily refuted against, even if it actively goes against his other morals, and you're no different, he'll happily warp his thinking for you

It would simply be impossible for him to see you as anything less than his perfect darling who he adores so thoroughly

[chalkrub]

been doodling some bri'ish wildlife - love seeing these guys. because they are the classics aren't they?

[longmaxsilvarg]

[gramnel]