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#and all of them are much more common anyway so it would be a little tougher to identify
onlycosmere · 8 hours
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What is an industry secret that you know?
- Typical_Affect8207 
frostandtheboughs:  All the most famous living artists have workshops full of people who make the art for them.
They spend their time choosing concepts, talking to their gallery reps and schmoozing buyers. The only time they touch the work is to sign it.
iwillfuckingbiteyou: Similarly, there's a very strong chance your favourite author uses ghostwriters. Unless your favourite is George RR Martin, whose publishers probably fucking wish he'd let them bring in ghostwriters so they could finally sell you The Winds of Winter, or JK Rowling, because if a ghostwriter turned in text so riddled with adverbs we'd be replaced with a more competent writer.
Source: Was a ghostwriter. Not a particularly high-level one, but I wrote a couple of minor bestsellers before I packed it in to languish in obscurity under my own name.
Andrew_Squared: /u/Mistborn [Brandon Sanderson] say it isn't so!
Brandon Sanderson: Ha. No, it's isn't the case for me. I don't think it's as common in writing as /u/frostandtheboughs says it is for other kinds of art. Though...I can unfortunately corroborate it does happen in fine art more than people expect. Not any of the fantasy artists I personally know, but some other artists.
I think /u/iwillfuckingbiteyou might be overstating their case. I've never known a person in f&sf to use a ghost writer--even myself, when called in to write on the Wheel of Time, was credited. They didn't need to put my name on the cover, but there was never a question if they would. Maybe it happens in thrillers or the like.
If I write a book with one of my pals, their name is on the book--and often, they do quite a bit of the work. But if my name is the only one on the book, I'm the one who wrote basically every word. (I did hire out the songs in Words of Radiance, as talked about in the front material, to have an actual poet in that seat. And editors do make suggestions that I often take, leaving their touch on the book in the shape of changed words here and there.)
I've never written a book with anyone but one of my pals, really--closest is the Legion story that we did in audio only (death and faxes) which I had very little input in, and insisted it be listed as "Brandon Sanderson's Legion" rather than with myself as an author. But even though they ignored that in some regions, it still has the other author credited as co-author. (It was pitched more as a television type deal, with an attempt at turning it into a serial run by a writer's room. Never took off.)
Anyway, no, this doesn't happen very often among the people I know and have met. Basically never. But different parts of the industry can be very different--nonfiction, for example, is a completely different world. It's full of ghostwriting. And I know in romance, pen names are very, very common, much more so than F&SF.
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irlplasticlamb · 1 day
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PLEASE tell us all about rhaelor omgomg
OH MY GOD ❗️i’m so excited to talk about my mellow marshmallow ❗️❗️❗️
rhaelor is the youngest child of alicent and viserys, born almost a year after daeron (so they’re basically irish twins 🫶).
appearance: he’s very tall (almost as tall as aemond), with long, lanky limbs, prominent wrist and hip bones, and LOTS of freckles (i headcanon hightowers to be super freckled so he got it from his mom!!! let me be delulu in peace). he has excessively long hair (he has refused haircuts ever since he learned how to speak), more white than usual targaryen gold-silver, with a few streaks of pale ginger (because i thought it would be funny for him not to have the perfect targ look). alicent is the only one to notice his eye colour is exactly the same as rhaenyra’s, probably because she’s a massive dyke (same alicent, same).
personality/skills: rhaelor’s very sensitive, prone to histrionics and a massive mommy’s boy. he’s charming, well versed in court pleasantries and a gigantic gossip, which is probably why despite his dramatic nature, he’s so popular amongst the ladies at court (he’s like their token little gay boy but in a slay way). rhaelor is very into traditionally feminine things, adores all stuff soft, expensive and shiny. he LOVES art, being an excellent harpist, singer and lace maker. he’s TERRIBLE when it comes to combat though, hopeless with sword and barely passable with bow and arrow. he tends to be quite lazy and avoidant when it comes to anything that does not interest him, preferring to lounge around, engage in his hobbies and blabber to any poor soul who’s in his closest vicinity. he’s also so uninterested in serious politics and princely duties that it makes him even more useless. he’d probably prefer to be a pampered courtesan than son of a king and if not for alicent, who knows? maybe he would end up leaving and becoming saera 2.0.
relationships: so as i mentioned, rhaelor LOVES alicent so fucking much! refusing to ever leave her side for long, to the point where when daeron gets sent away to oldtown, he is allowed to stay in king’s landing. he hates to see her sad and sometimes spends hours upon hours playing and singing music to her. although rhaelor can be as frustrating of a son as aegon, i think alicent does have a soft spot for her flamboyant little creature.
when it comes to his siblings, while rhaelor is quite fond of all of them, it’s aegon who he has the best relationship with. they bond over wine (oh yeah, rhaelor’s a massive drunk as well, the „YAS GIRL LET’S PARTY” type to aegon’s „I’M GONNA FUCKING K1LL MYSELF IN 3 2 1”) and silly gossip. aegon and rhaelor have three brain cells combined, which results in a lot of stupidity (and headache for their poor servants).
aemond finds rhaelor annoying, a bit pathetic even, but rhaelor has that magical way of wrapping him around his finger anyways. maybe because he can be so helpless at times and aemond is Targtowers’ Guard Dog Deluxe. they have a funny relationship, full of bickering and little digs at each other, finding common language in aemond’s love for history and rhaelor’s of art.
helaena baffles rhaelor and the stupid lad does NOT know how to interact with her whatsoever. he’s probably a bit jealous of her being a girl because, well, what is a targaryen without a little gender envy 🫡 they do share some sweet moments though, long hours of helaena working on her embroidery and rhaelor on his lace (probably yapping like crazy that boy does NOT shut the fuck up)
and daeron, while they don’t have much in common with each other, they’re so close in age that they just get along well. daeron is very lenient with rhaelor, finding his freespirited, spoiled behaviour rather adorable and harmless. rhaelor thinks of daeron very highly, often talking praises of him (only half to annoy his other older brothers).
rhaenyra though? they barely have a relationship because he’s so much younger than her. he does not acknowledge her as the true queen solely because he loves aegon so much, he’s stupid as fuck when it comes to politics (and logical thinking lmao).
miscellaneous: rhaelor enjoys cross dressing, finding women’s fashion much more “darling and superb” than men’s. he takes great care of his skin and hair. especially hair, only one servant is allowed to touch it because he’s so particular about the way it’s treated. he hates meat, having a great compassion for animals, and rarely eats it. it gives very much “white woman putting animal lives over human” energy though because he does NOT acknowledge smallfolk as real, breathing, feeling beings. he DOES have a dragon, a slender pale-gold thing called starling. starling gets injured early in life, though, stunting her growth and making her unable to fly for longer periods of time. rhaelor LOVES her, think of an old lady and the cat she’s owned for like 18 years. that’s rhaelor and starling energy.
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cypheragent · 1 day
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obviously there is nothing wrong with going on hormones and then stopping if a person finds it is truly not for them but "detransitioner" is not really an apolitical identity and generally refers to a group of people i have very little sympathy for. and the coddling of detransitioners people engage in is just insane. even far too many trans people fall into this trap i'm afraid lmao. there are pretty much two kinds of people among those for whom "detransitioner" is an identity, and they are 1. the "ex-homosexuals" of trans people who are just repressing their transness now, and 2. transphobic cis people. i mean that's really it right? if detransition was truly right for a person and they really are cis now, why the fuck should i care what they think about trans issues? they aren't my problem, my responsibility, and their opinions about trans people mean as much to me as any other cis person's, which is to say: jack shit. "what about people who detransition?" literally, and i cannot emphasize this enough, not my problem. why are trans people expected to answer for these people or justify ourselves in light of their existence? literally, what do they have to do with me?
aside from this, your average detransitioner (again, with this i refer not to people who simply choose to quit hormones and don't become raging transphobes about it, but Detransitioner as political identity) is essentially a person with no sense of personal responsibility who society chooses to coddle because they appear to confirm society's transphobia. it's pretty insidious tbh, society at-large's obsession with detransitioners, validating them and blaming trans people and the increase in our rights, specifically to bodily autonomy, truly reveals the part most people don't want to say out loud: that they believe this is the ideal. this is what a not insignificant number of people (even many who claim to accept trans people, frankly) believe to be the best option, if possible, for trans people. i've definitely encountered a number of people who are like, fine with trans people's existence, but want to believe very firmly that transition is a sort of unfortunate last resort that should be avoided at all costs if possible, and that reasons not to transition should be emphasized and sought at all cost.
viewing transition as unfortunate (rather than what it is: joyful) can be seen in the pearl clutching over trans children especially. what if they regret it! the hypothetical dysphoria a cis person would experience as a result of transition is more concerning than the dysphoria trans people already experience, because the feelings and experiences of cis people are always, always the priority, and trans people and their suffering an afterthought.
anyway, i got a little off-track from a point i wanted to make, which is that the majority of detransitioners have no one but themselves to blame. and yet this is never what they do. doctors are to blame, trans people are to blame, literally anyone but themselves. i don't think most people would fall for this narrative as easily if not for the fact that society hates trans people, so again, it's a narrative people like because it confirms what they want to believe, that transition is unfortunate. in the modern era, there are so many resources to understand what transition will do to a person's body that i find it difficult to sympathize with someone who acts as though it was some kind of big shock. of course, i understand that someone can do all the reading in the world, know what they are in for, decide to go through with it and still find, unexpectedly, that it isn't right for them. (this probably isn't as common as people want to believe though... i mean, detransition rates are low as is, and even the majority of detransitioners themselves will tell you they didn't do research, they didn't know hormones would do this or that. somehow, i am supposed to believe this is everyone's fault but their own.) that being said, it is very much possible to simply not become a raging transphobe in light of this! accepting personal responsibility instead of blaming others is probably the first step.
of course, trans acceptance is only beneficial for those who go on hormones then choose to quit anyway. dysphoria is easier to cope with in a world where people don't discriminate against gender nonconformity. if you believe in a worldview that ascribes disgust to bodies that are or have been on hrt, bodies that don't fit the cis binary mold, then... yeah, that will contribute to any misery that you might be experiencing. insisting that your body is "ruined" or "mutilated" isn't exactly going to help with your self-perception and overall mental health. acceptance of different bodies is one of the necessary steps to improving your own mindset (and improving your treatment of others, for that matter). going on hormones, or going off them, literally anything a person can do with their body, should be accepted as rather mundane all things considered. sure, it's a big decision, but at the end of the day it's ok to make a decision, to realize it wasn't the right one, and there is nothing wrong with anyone's bodies. you gotta move the fuck on with your life at some point.
of course, all this is supplement to pretty much the most basic and obvious point that anyone should agree with wrt hrt, which is that what other people do with their own bodies is none of your damn business and everyone should have the right to choose for themselves. the fact that some people might regret it is not an excuse to remove that as a basic right for everyone (nor is it an excuse to insist upon stricter gatekeeping, for that matter). furthermore, the simple fact that hormones are life-changing for many people is an indisputable fact. die mad about it, i guess
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sunshinestardrop · 2 days
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Fates Worse Then...
Heres the finished Hazbin Hotel Fic, I got a little lazy towards the end but I also have some extra bits Im working on in Alastor's POV. Hopefully it's not too terrible.
Ill prolly post it on my AO3 account later (when I can actually think of a good summary) but for now here it is on Tumblr!!
Pairing: Reader X Alastor
Summary(?): your life with Alastor told in parts, from childhood till death and then some
You had been the first to know there was something wrong with him.
Alastor had barely been a teen when you had stumbled upon him elbows deep in the bog near your homes. Being friends since you both were young, it was like you had a sixth sense for him. Always aware of his coming and going even when you couldn’t see him. Maybe it was the beginning of a new- still young- feeling deep within your heart that made you aware. Or maybe it was a more primal feeling within your mind, the same awareness that a prey animal had when a predator was nearby.
If it was, though, you never once heeded it. Instead searching him out on your own accord. The bog had been a place of solace for the both of you. A hidden away spot that others refused to stay near- especially during the hotter months- not wanting to deal with mosquitoes. You two had never been ones to socialize, so it became a common ground for both of you to play apart in silence. Over time you would find yourselves gravitating towards each other. Side to side, back-to-back, and eventually shoulder to shoulder. A place to lean on each other without judgment. 
It was probably for the best, then, that no one had come that night when you followed the trail of vivisected frogs down to where Alastor stood. He had already pulled another one out of the bog with a scalpel that could only have been stolen from class that morning. He had locked eyes with you for a moment, but all you could see was the way the knife pressed against the withering frog’s belly as he sliced.
-
With time, it would become a blurry memory that you would only think about dozens of years down, leaving you wondering if you could have done something different. But that wouldn’t have been until much, much later.
You and Alastor aged.
It always seemed like Alastor grew just right- never once having to deal with gangling limbs and uncomfortable feelings that other kids did. Words came easy to him, and he could charm anyone that he wanted to. In comparison, you found yourself unable to keep up. Despite your best attempts to connect with your fellow teens, no one ever wanted to stay for too long. You always laughed a little too loud or talked a little too long. The other girls your age found you odd, and the boys held no interest in you.
Maybe you should have cared a little more, but you quite liked the peace that came with it.
Still, Alastor allowed you a place at his side. You two talked- of course he loved to do that- but never once did either of you put a label to what you were. He had used the word friend or various words similar to it, but never once said more than that.  
Alastor had never spoken about his father to you, but you had always known when something was wrong. There were bruises in places you only saw when he had rolled up his pants so as not to dirty them with bog water. A bright purple splotch just under his collar, and- rarely- he would sport a shiner to class. Casually talking his way through any of his classmates that cared to ask. You knew they would never get an answer from him anyway.
You were sure you wouldn’t either because Alastor had always been one mystery after another. And you- who had spent your whole childhood lingering in his shadow- knew that it would be near impossible to tear them down. No matter how badly you wanted to. So instead, you stayed until late at night with him in the bog, sometimes until the sun came up. You would keep a fresh meal for him and his mother when it was needed.
You would keep your windows unlocked at night, just in case.
Alastor, for all his oddities, had the gall to lecture you about that one, “You never know what dangers could climb through,” he would say, as he did just that.
-
No one had brought up marriage until, one day, they did.
And then they never stopped.
You had been aware of the expectation, but once it was thrust upon you had no desire to be part of it. Marriage was a foreign concept to you, and sure, maybe you did like the idea, but you didn’t like anyone enough to want to tolerate them your whole life. You had seen the worst of marriage. Both from your own, indifferent, parents and from Alastor’s suffering. You never wanted to fall into that trap. So, you believed that you would die as you lived- alone.
But Alastor always had a way of throwing a wrench into your plans.
“Us?” you asked, balking over his offer.
It had been a quiet night, not a Peeper to be heard as you two sat on a blanket near the bog. You had brought a picnic basket full of treats that day, and Alastor, ever the gentlemen, had not come empty handed. His mother’s jambalaya- still warm- in some Tupperware. A long time ago you would have found the idea of eating with so many bugs around to be unappetizing, but you tolerated it with Alastor there fearing this could be his only meal for the day.
Eventually, you grew used to it.
“Well, of course,” he chirped, “It only seems logical!”
And it did, in a way, you had spent so long complaining about everyone’s comments about your non-marital status that it had almost consumed your whole life. Alastor, as well, had been fending off the advances of many women for longer than you could remember. Along with that he seemed to snag a job on a local radio show and was climbing into popularity fast.
In the end, if either of you wanted others off your backs, this seemed like the most rational step.
“Sure,” you said, offering him your hand, “I’ll marry you, my dear friend.”
-
The wedding was as quick as your disappearance.
Forms were filled out, a ceremony for only you two and a notary was found, and you both spirited away into the night. You both had quietly found a small home tucked away from the rest of the world. Close enough to his work, but far enough from the rest of the world. Peace had given you a new lease on life. With no one to hover over your shoulder- to judge all your oddities- you became more expressive. The you that only existed within the confines of that old bog was now free to spread itself further and further out in your home. Personality scattered about that merged with Alastor's.
Lingering reminders threatened to bring up a past long since buried in your mind. A bloody knife forgotten about somewhere he thought you wouldn’t see. Late night hours spent at work, and him coming home smelling of rust and sweat. The door to the basement always locked, never questioned.
You wondered if he had become sloppy over time, that maybe it was too much for him to handle. Still you kept your mouth closed, you prepared the meat he gave you.
In the end, it didn’t matter, Alastor had given you all you ever wanted and more- you were happy to spend the rest of your life in silence if it meant his happiness.
At least, that’s what you told yourself.
-
A cry.
Late into the night, you had been tossing and turned for most of it and had just barely gotten to sleep when the sound jolted you awake. You had shot up from your single bed and scrambled for the bat you kept under it. Carefully you crept down the long hallway, past Alastor's room and towards the only place you knew the increasingly louder cries could be heard.
The basement, Alastor's basement.
With shaky hands you reached out to the jiggling handle. Cold that ran through your body that made it tense. A mockery of rigor mortis, but you were living, breathing. For as long as you kept up the illusion of a happy-ignorant- life you would surely stay that way?
Wouldn’t you?
Surely, Alastor cared enough about his oldest friend to forgive them? To keep them away from the edge of his knife? Sometimes you wondered if you really were as important to him as he was to you, but you dared not to think over it for too long. Least you come to a conclusion you knew your heart could not take.
Your hand hovered over the knob. Thinking.
In the end, though, the choice had always been out of your control.
The basement door flung open, and your eyes widened in terror at the possibility of your husband standing on the other end. Face to face with your own stupid curiosity. Would he be upset? Would he be enraged? You had never seen him angry, but surely this would be the final straw.
But it wasn't.
“…he…hel…”
A man, not too much older than you, the smell of rust.
“Pl…please…help….”
You could have helped him, you should have. You never knew when Alastor would change his mind about you, or even grow bored. But that would mean all of this for naught. That would mean never seeing your loving, doting husband again. That would mean you, alone again. Another unwanted person lost in a sea of uncaring eyes.
You reared back.
And swung.
-
You awoke the next morning in your bed, no memory aside from the loud crack of a broken skull and a body tumbling down into the abyss of Alastor's basement. You curled into yourself, silence lingering as you replayed the scattered bits of what you wished was a nightmare in your mind.
You don’t remember much of that day, only brief moments of Alastor saying his goodbyes as he went off to work, and then him coming home hours later to your prone form, the same position he had left you.
When you awoke from your trance Alastor's bed was next to yours. A threat and a promise all at once. No longer could you sneak out in the middle of the night to search. No longer safe in your own home—but it was never truly yours, was it? Tucked deep into trees. A place where no one would look for you, no one would find you.
-
How odd to learn, after years of marriage, that you were unquestionably in love with Alastor.
There was something wrong with you, that much you knew. But, now faced with that monster of a man and still loving him, you knew there was something terribly wrong with you.
Fate had twisted you into something far less good then you had hoped you would be, but the love bursting into your heart still brought you comfort when doubt would crawl its way into your mind.
You decided, if he saw it fit, you would allow his knife to be the only one to take you away.
-
Three days.
You had spent three days looking for him. In the cold winter you walked from his job and back, the bars he frequented, and even dug through the snowy path to your home with your bare hands looking for the man you loved only to be given frostbitten fingers for your troubles.
It was like the world had swallowed him whole. Someone that you had once believed to be above it, now just another man lost to the unforgiving universe. All that was left was you and your little cabin- too big for one. There had been a light- in the way- at the end of the tunnel. It came in the form of two men pounding at your door hours after you had passed out form exhaustion. A flashlight beaming through your windows.
They had found him- or more accurate, his body- cold in the woods, bullet through his head.
And who could there be to suspect other than his oddball wife. You tried to defend your innocence. How dare they accuse you of hurting the man you loved! But they barged into your home without care. They tore through all your little memories like they were nothing. The couch you and Alastor picked out; shredded. The pictures on the wall; shattered. The lock to the basement; broken.
And what they found down there was enough for them.
A story for a different time, you would say. Vivisected frogs. Longer, paler. You think they had names, didn’t they? At one point surely. Now all but a body. Sectioned off in ways that told you the cuts of meat. In all your numbness all you could think of was the ways they cooked. When to go against the grain and when to go with it. Prep, marinate, cook. He never once mentioned what kind it was, and you never asked but both knew.
And in all that, the only worried in your mind was of Alastor's memory. Of the legacy he would leave behind.
You loved him.
You still love him.
And so, you would be the one to make this sacrifice.
-
“And that’s why I’m here!”
Drink in hand (Fingertips discolored, a reminder of your final days.) you smiled brightly at the young women enraptured in your story. Despite her title as Princess of Hell, you had found the girl to be a real sweetie. Charlie- the sweetie- had been gripping onto her girlfriends arm the entire time you told her about your life before death. She seemed to have a love for the dramatics, and you sure had a flair for it. All those years no longer suffocated by the expectations the 1900s had of you had allowed you to open up a bit more. Even in hell you still found yourself able to enjoy life any way you could.
Of course, most of that meant you stayed far away from other people- not wanted to socialize as much as others did- but eventually you found yourself drawn to this Hazbin Hotel. A place for sinners to have another chance in heaven. While you didn’t quite care for heaven, there was a chance your love had made it to those golden gates. Though, you were not quite sure how he would have talked his way into it, you were sure only he could.
“Oh! My!” Charlie chirped as Vaggie dabbed some tears away from her eyes, “That’s—That’s so--!”
“Fucked up,” Angle Dust piped in from behind you, holding his own drink.
“-Adorable!!”
You reared your head back and laughed, as always too loud but you didn’t care, “No no! He’s right!” You said, “It was very… Unconventional! But I quite enjoyed my life with him! Loved the fool to death too!”
Husk, the bartender, rolled his eyes. You had spent so long avoiding any sort of social interaction that you had almost forgotten what it was like to be around people that actually… enjoyed your company. People that, despite their prickly personas, seemed to quite enjoy your endless chatter and loud laughter.
A place to call your own, a home.
Still, it wasn’t just quiet right yet. A hole in your heart that you sometimes worried would never be filled. But, in time, you were sure it would fix itself. Or, if you were lucky, he would come back to fill it once again.
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clowningaroundmars · 10 days
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listening to rakim and the pharcyde rn and just thinking it's actually kinda weird that more ppl haven't pointed out how much miles' taste in music affects his life and viewpoint in general
and how being raised by his uncle who's into more old school stuff on earth-42 would affect him and his development
i'm imagining 42 actually clowning 1610 for listening to post malone while placing a labcabincalifornia vinyl on his record player while they chill in his room one day lol
42's tastes would probably be more varied and just... like more developed in general bc he has a man who was more than likely a Part Of The Culture helping to raise him. aaron was out on the streets of brooklyn as a kid most likely swapping diy mixtapes and buying local rap cd's with his allowance/summer job money (assuming he was born like around 1978-1980, then he was most likely on the streets in the mid 90's during the Golden Age of Hip Hop).
not to mention that for aaron to even Do What He Does as the prowler, he is still out on the streets til this day, shooting the shit with fellow neighbors and shaking hands with black market merchants. he's dapping up store owners and trying to get on local gang leaders' good sides for intel. he's making connections! he is most def still swapping music recommendations with ppl in the hood and ordering vinyls online if he can't get his hands on them in physical brick-and-mortar stores
and music seems to be a super important thing to a man like aaron. that would definitely influence miles. interesting that i haven't seen more posts mentioning that actually!
#mine#miles g morales#aaron davis#miles morales#spiderverse#New York by rakim started playing while i was writing this too lol#but anyways#aaron stepping in all Cultured and shit#most likely growing up around elders when HE was a kid just knowing abt the black panthers#and the general revolutionary spark in the air that him+his neighbors lived with for a while#hearing stories of little rap cyphers being performed up and down brooklyn streets. maybe watchin some of them?#political raps and songs and anecdotes flying around the streets#and then eventually in the hallways of his and jeff's school#growing up listening to krs one. common. rakim. lupe fiasco. nwa#yanno what i mean?#the streets of nyc were Woke yall. lots of black ppl in the hoods were radicalized af#so i imagine it would be quite! important! for aaron to pass that culture and wisdom down to his nephew#and since he's obviously spending more time with miles in 42 as opposed to 1610 aaron with miles#42 would be Much More Influenced by him#yall pickin up what im putting down? 👀#anyways completely unrelated but do you guys think miles g and hobie would get along way better than most ppl would think? :)#IM JUST SAYING#aaron and miles42 are confirmed to be vigilantes on e42 instead of villains#and i think its bc the writers of spiderverse took into account what a spiderman-less earth would look like#but more than that. what a spiderman-less PROWLER would look like#now that the prowler isnt being thwarted by a dude in a spandex costume all the time#and we KNOW aaron is not a bad man. he never had a choice in his circumstances and he loved miles so so so much#so considering all that.... goddamn yall you know what?#we might get to see a Woke Ass Miles in btsv maybe. hm!#a more mature miles. a miles that 1610 could quite.... possibly even.... yearn to be....? 👁 👁
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gingergari · 3 months
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le mie stelline
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truckstoptigers · 4 months
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when i was seven and our trailer burned down, i thought about leaving my father there, grabbing my brother, and getting us the hell out
i didn't. i ended up waking our father and we all ended up at the neighbors' house
but i should have
i fucking should have
because the minute he had a chance to be alone with me (after we got to my grandma's trailer) guess what he did! shortly after our fucking HOME burned down and the firefighters gave my brother and i teddy bears and wrapped blankets around us for shock!!!!!! fucking christ i hate our father more than anyone on this earth
#haha :) feeling normal abt this!#all i cared about was my brother being safe. thats all. i still remember holding his hand and walking him to the neighbours house#i couldnt see because i left my glasses in the trailer. they put on the little mermaid cartoon for us. i even remember what episode it was#but i genuinely considered leaving my father there and honestly that scares me#honestly i was afraid to wake him up bc i didnt want him to get mad at me. if he got mad at me i would always suffer for it later#milo murmurs#fun fact we lived w someone & his son and his son ended up becoming my cousin when his mom married my uncle#i am so so glad neither or them were home that night#he was so young. im several years older than him & he was so little that he doesnt even remember we lived together#csa vent#tw csa vent#csa tw#also feeling fucked up abt the fact that my father wld put his cigarettes out on me when he was pissed#sometimes i wonder if the fire started because he was smoking smth and passed out while doing it but my brother slept in his room#i feel like they wouldve been much more worse off if the fire started in their room#anyway im pretty sure that the fire was set intentionally bc he had some ties to the wrong ppl#and either they didnt know me & my brother were also there and were only going after our father or they didnt care we were there#to this day even bonfires make me nervous if i can only smell them & cant see them. i hate smelling smth burning & panicking#we live in the country now so its very common for ppl to burn leaves and wood and what have you. its still scary sometimes#i think abt this a lot actually bc any fire still makes me lowkey nervous. less so if i know where/what its coming from but still nervous
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pocketramblr · 1 year
Note
I like to think of 3rd as a former bodyguard of All for One, maybe he wasn't born with a quirk too. Maybe he received one from All for One and dedicated himself to serving him as a result only to come to his senses later on.
There was a bit of time when I thought that the ponytailed masked bodyguard of AfO was going to turn out to be the same as the pineapple silhouette one, (the indents on one's mask being similar to the shape the other's headband made from the side) and that like, he put his hair up when he changed sides and wore slightly new clothes and that he was the one to either get Yoichi out of that vault or pass information onto Second so he could get him out. But then we got more clear shots of Third with lighter hair and it seemed more likely Giga was the fate of the bodyguard... But I'll always have a fondness for former AfO guard Third. Perhaps his turning is why Yoichi is glad to see Izuku trying to save Tenko, perhaps that's why Third kept away from Izuku, shame or sure that he'd fail because at least Third was an adult at the time, and what hope do they really have, and why drag the kid in further... Love that plus I think we really should have more former villains in the OfA lineup
#also if AfO gave Third fa jin i think i would hate the quirk a lot less#it's so booooooring and dumb and just ofa-lite and i was really hoping for interesting weak early quirks#to test Izuku's quirk clever thinking#like the ability to increase the temperature inertia of a small bit of liquid- keep a cup of water cooler longer or a bowl of soup warm#and now Izuku's got to figure out the combat use of that boosted to 100x#BUT see now if AfO really did keep finding so many little stockpile quirks#itd kinda make sense that he'd just be tossing em out#to his expendable body guard and his weak little brother and who knows who else#stockpile being common like that and thrown away and then two of them together contributing to the downfall of AfO?#to the one who devalued them so much? that'd be neat!#but noooo the most villainous we can get is 'ohhh second and third killed a few people in their fight against AfO'#which as it happens after the reveal of AfO's extensive murder -> zombie guard pipeline and the villains killing thousands on thousands#with cities activity wrecked and the only reason it's not a total villain victory at all is the Hawks murder moment like....#yeah I'm not exactly feeling the weight of Second or Third having blood on their hands and possibly occasionally losing sight of the#humanity of their enemies. especially since the only specific we see is them rescuing Yoichi anyway so like#that would have hit more of we had seen some of their prior actions! that could have been actually setting up past villain users!#Third having actually worked for AfO first! even if it was i don't know‚ a double agent move‚ could have really dug that point home#but anyway yeah i like that. third deserves more cool backstories in fic#anon#pocket talks to people
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chuluoyi · 2 months
Text
jealousy, jealousy...
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- nanami kento x reader
your husband seems to be immune to jealousy, and you've pretty much convinced yourself that he just doesn't have it in him... or does he?
genre/warnings: crack, fluff, jealous!nanami (he is in denial), implied suggestive content, mentions of pregnancy, gojo cameo (i just can't pass up the chance of him annoying the heck out of nanami ahaha)
note: based on this ask, this is a little continuation to the secret wife! and this is in the same universe as love entries so gojo is married to the love entries reader! :)
general masterlist
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By all means, Nanami Kento is not a jealous man.
He knows his worth. And he knows you. Out of all people, you wouldn't try anything with anyone.
Even more so with Ino. He knows him too, and there is just no way.
So... he really shouldn't get riled up, especially when it was his shitty senior who tried to set him on fire—
"It's still beyond me, how you managed to bag her," Gojo remarked with a bark of snort. Both of them shared the same table in this high-end bar, an afterparty for the school's graduation, but Nanami was seriously considering to move after Yaga left earlier until this clown came. "And keep her a secret too. I mean, that's so foul! If I were your wife, I'd divorce you on the spot."
Nanami threw him a pointed look. "The feeling is mutual. I feel bad for her for putting up with you too. And please don't be gross and say things like you being my wife. It's appalling."
Gojo's wife being his close friend and former classmate was what foul, Nanami thought. Sure, he would acknowledge Gojo's relentless efforts, but still, anyone willing to be this shameless paintbrush's wife must lead a really daring life.
The strongest sorcerer rolled his eyes. "Nah, I'll have you know that my married life is full of bliss. I have a proof, look at my—"
"If you want to show me hickeys, I'll seriously report you for harassing me."
And to that, Gojo merely whined and pursed his lips, and Nanami finally had some peace. He really entertained the thought of going back, because Gojo wasn't exactly a fun company, and this was getting late, until…
"Hey, Ino—the one who always follows you around," Gojo suddenly said. "Whoa, you're letting him close to your wife too, huh?"
Nanami whipped his head to where you were, and true to what Gojo said, you were indeed there, talking animatedly to his junior.
You were all smiles, and Ino was every bit as excited as you were. There was nothing remotely wrong with how you were conversing. You two looked like a pair of really, really good friends.
Ever since word of your marriage got out and became common knowledge, you've been receiving the kind of attention that Nanami wasn't sure he preferred. While he hadn't intended to keep it a secret, he certainly felt that a more private life was preferable.
But the thing was… weren't you too close with him? If it were up to him, Ino could've had at least two steps back. What were you discussing anyway?
"You're a lax husband, Nanamin, heh," Gojo whistled, totally grinning because he won this fight. "I know you probably think it's harmless, but a puppy is still a dog, you know~"
A puppy... is what?
That night, that phrase was what going through in his mind over and over as he chugged down his drinks.
No way, no way... It must have been because he had too much to drink. He couldn't possibly!
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The next time he felt that unpleasant feeling, it was on one night, at the comfort of your home.
Both of you had just finished watching a movie, still lounging on the sofa. You were blissfully humming, texting away on your phone at—Nanami looked at the clock—11 p.m.
Now, now, he wasn't one who would be checking your phone or such, but he couldn't deny the curiosity within him, because you weren't usually texting anyone this late at night.
"Hehe~" suddenly, you giggled and Nanami glanced at you in wonder. You seemed to be having fun.
Who... are you texting?
Despite telling himself he wouldn't meddle in your affairs, he gruffly cleared his throat. "Dear, it's late."
"Oh?" you whipped your head to him. "Oh, yeah..."
You were genuinely confused, your husband was folding his face as if he was sour of something. "Kento? What's wrong?"
But suddenly, his face lit up into a smile, kind of forced though. "Ah, nothing..." And suddenly he lifted you up from the sofa, making you almost yelp as you dropped your phone and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Time for bed."
However, what you didn't realize was that your phone's screen lit up just as the sender replied to your message, and Nanami caught a glimpse of it.
Ino.
A puppy is still a dog, you know~
The heck?
"Kento?" you asked again, and he immediately turned to you, unable to read the message. Still, his mind was reeling in many ways, and when he looked into your innocent, round eyes, suddenly he clicked his tongue, eyes slitting in dissatisfaction.
"Time for bed, dear."
Long story short, that night, your husband was somehow a little more aggressive than usual... even as he fondled you ever so softly at the end.
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The third time, Nanami had enough.
He had just finished a mission when he got that call from Ino, informing him that you were at a clinic after nearly passing out.
Out of anyone else... how could you not call him first?!
He may be vexed, but worry was what clouded his mind the most. You were almost five months pregnant now, and to have this happening to you—
He walked in to find you lying on the small bed, your eyes lighting up when you saw him. "Kento..."
"What happened to you? Why didn't you call me?" his voice was rough, and your smile fell. You felt him gripping your hand tightly. "How can you—"
Ino, sensing his apprehension, suddenly intervened, "Uh, Nanami-san, it's not—"
Nanami turned to him sharply, causing him to gulp.
"We were... in a bakery when Y/N-san suddenly felt faint," the younger man explained. "Please don't be too hard on her."
"And why are you with my wife in broad daylight?"
"Kento, it's not what it looks like!" you squeezed his hand urgently. "We were just... trying to find a cake, you know..."
"...what?"
And that day, everything Nanami thought he knew was turned on its axis. Perhaps, if he wasn't thinking too much—if Gojo's words hadn't taken his mind, he wouldn't jump into conclusions this easily.
Your first wedding anniversary was just in a couple of weeks, and you had enlisted in Ino's help to find this one bakery that he swore sold only the best goods. Your texts to each other were solely about that—nothing more, nothing less.
"Aww, Kento~" you cooed as Nanami helped you into your shared bed once you got back home. "You got jealous, it's cute, and I'm happy~"
He huffed. "I was not jealous."
"Ehh, didn't look like that to me though~"
"Listen," he said, taking hold of your shoulders once he had seated you on the bed, looking straight into your eyes. "From now on, whatever you do... you have to contact me first, alright?"
"Oh—?"
"When you need something, when you don't feel well, when you feel like you might be in some kind of danger..." his tone was serious, emphasizing each word. "You have to reach out to me first. You don't go to Ino, Gojo, or anyone else—me. You go to me. I'm your husband, and I intend to fulfill that role well for you."
And he placed a hand on your tummy, gently caressing it. "And of course the father role for the baby too."
You clamped up, totally speechless. This unexpected development made your heart soar with a heap of giddiness.
"Yes!" Your smile was so wide and radiant that Nanami was sure he had started to blush too. Then you flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. "And you know... you're already the best husband and soon-to-be father ever! So you don't have anything to worry about, okay?"
Ah, how nice. Nanami chuckled as he placed his hand on the small of your back.
"Mhm, and from now on, I'll take charge of our anniversary. You only have to take it easy, alright?"
And when you giggled, he thought having you in his embrace like this was enough to satisfy him—after all, he was a simple man.
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Epilogue
"I know even Nanami gets jealous! Heh, heh, heh~"
Gojo laughed crisply, and Shoko snorted as they listened to Ino recount the story, with the latter scratching his head uncomfortably.
"I really didn't mean anything, and now I feel kinda bad," the younger man said, his head dropping. "Nanami-san seemed upset too..."
"Not many things can get under his skin," Shoko remarked. "I really thought he'd be more rational, but having an expecting wife must've taken quite a toll on him too."
"Nah, don't find more excuses, Shoko! Now is time to pay up~!"
As Shoko grumbled and Ino was lost in his own thoughts, a loud cough suddenly echoed behind them.
"Gojo-san... Ieiri-san..." Nanami leveled his unamused gaze on them, his glasses glinting in the light, causing the two gulp. "What are you two doing?"
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jinkiezzsstuff · 4 months
Text
In Season
alastor x doe! femreader
no but really this is actually so depraved and smutty i cannot believe myself i hope yall enjoy the feast xx
Summary: You were aquatinted with hell for quite some time and you quickly learned as much as you could about mating season to protect yourself from other deer sinners. Although you came across the hotel and neither you nor Alastor could resist each other, and your instincts.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, female anatomy- no pronouns, no descriptions of bodytype/skin colour/hair type, heavy breeding kink, female masturbation briefly, penetration, squirting, creampie, horrorish aspects predator n prey, ‘in heat’ trope, OOC alastor bc y’know sex, general vulgarity, brief mention of blood, swearing, not proofread, LEMME KNOW WHAT I MISSED
Word count: 5K
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You’ve been in Hell several years, and at first it was a little jarring. Especially since you now had hooves, a tail, a black scent-sensitive nose, and soft floppy ears. Honestly it was amusing getting used to your new body while dodging sinners hungry for new meat, you reminisced on your first days of hell often, as they were the most exciting.
But now you were more aware, you’d spent a majority of your time in hell assessing and attempting to understand the whole eternal damnation thing- after all you weren’t much of a believer in hell when alive. You kept atop all the sinners that were of note, the different sectors of the pentagram, the overlords as well as their strengths and weaknesses that coincides with their demonic form, you also paid close attention to all the rings of hell and their sins. You’d even grown interested in the hellbors and imps, never imagining how birth and life things that was supposed to be god's gift, ended up breeding in such a foul place like hell.
Most demons spawned into hell with some sort of form be it an object like a television, a prop like a doll, a toy such as a jack in the box, or more commonly an animal. Most humans found themselves attached to animals anyways which made sense as to why many showed up as one, as well as why it wasn't surprising to see many dogs and cats as a common form in hell. During your investigative research, you ran into a few.. hurdles.
Bucks, mating seasons. It seemed like all animal life here was cursed with some sort of violent mating season. Where all that sinners could think about doing was mating. Bucks had been your biggest issue in hell, you found it pretty simple to ignore mating seasons, focusing your mind anywhere but the burning in your pelvis, but the bucks would storm around looking for the smell of the doe near them.
It’s a pain in the ass and you always had your calendars marked, alarms and reminders set, as to not forget that mating season was coming and you needed to take precautions.
Besides the chase the bucks would give you every year, you had it pretty easy in hell, you published on a blog your findings marketing it to new sinners in hell, kind of like a guide to hell, and that kept your bills paid and your mind occupied.
~
Walking down the road in the pentagram city with the intentions of snapping some pictures of some of the expected violence in hell, you gazed along the different brick walls and shops, shopping with your eye at times. You came by yet another brick wall, this one littered with taped up signs, your paced slowed as your eyes rapidly moved across the words on different pages.
There were varying signs, one for resale value drugs, IMP immediate murder professionals, and Charlie Morningstars Hazbin Hotel. Pausing your stride you went up to the wall getting a closer look at the shitty drawn piece of paper, there was several different… characters, on it very poorly drawn. You recognize Charlie’s name of course, you’d often see her roaming around the pride ring actually, unlike her father who you never saw.
Pulling out your phone you snapped a picture of the sign and decided to take a trip down to that side of the pentagram to check out this hotel. It’s definitely quite the story to be told that’s for sure.
You made left, rights, had to take cover for thirty minutes while some sinners duked it out shooting up a whole block, then you tried to hail down a cab- failed and trudged for the longest time to the hotel. It was so much further than you anticipated but everytime you felt like turning back you told yourself you were almost there which got you to the door of the hotel, by the end of the day however.
Knocking on the giant doors you didn’t know whether to walk in like you would a hotel, or wait for a guide. Tapping your fingers against your thighs you’re suddenly hit with strong arousal that clawed suddenly at your abdomen.
Bringing your phone up from your pocket you checked the date, you knew the season was changing and autumn was here but you didn’t have any issues with buck recently so you didn’t really have to worry. You did confirm mating season was in progress, with the conformations laying within the calendar, but it shouldn’t have been a problem, unless there is a buck inside the hotel.
Suddenly the door flew open and you were pulled away from your contemplation by a high pitched, giddy voice tugging your attention toward it. “Oh my gosh, hi! I’m Charlie! Come in! Are you here for the hotel!” The blonde rambled quickly, tugging you in by your wrist.
The hotel was weirdly homey, you could tell that there were different personalities that occupied the space, different colours of reds decorated, random items littered around the room like stiletto boots by the door, a large pile of needles in a corner, the bar seemed to be its own aesthetic design. It was comfortably warm and smelt like an active fireplace, as well as something so strong and musky it made your legs inadvertently clench.
You attempt to hold your instincts inside but this wasn’t like any other buck you’ve smelt before- it made you ravenous. Pulling yourself together while Charlie spoke about the hotel you pondered what you’d say, you could exactly be like, is there a male buck here because i’m horny as fuck.
No. Smiling to Charlie tiredly, you finally ready yourself to give her the explanation. “This place really is lovely, I didn’t actually come to be a patron but maybe write something about it for the little blog thing i have.” You felt jittering and lightheaded as you spoke, your eyes scanning the room and ears pulled back. “Uhm would it be okay to stay for a night?”
Charlie perked up clasping her hands together nodding eagerly. “Of course to both~!” She sang out happily. “I am so glad some people are interested! Who knows, maybe after a day you’ll wanna stay!” She exclaimed, twirling around happily.
You smiled at her optimism and you were genuinely happy that the princess of hell was such a breath of fresh air in the smog filled hell you all lived in. “Do you want me to show you around? Meet our staff and guests?” Charlie asked, a glimmer of hope and excitement sparkling in her eye. You took a brief moment to ponder before nodding your head. “I think that would be perfect, then though would i be able to rest, the walk fucked my hooves.” You say tapping the tip of your booted hoof against the floor.
Interlocking your elbows Charlie nodded, dragging you toward the bar. “Of course you can, I'll end our tour with your room, but let me begin it with Husk! Our loyal bartender!” Walking toward the bar you’d spotted early on, the cat demon turned his head ever so slightly toward you. “Hi,” The alcoholic said flatly, Charlie laughed nervously, but you didn’t really mind his demeanour you preferred short and to the point.
“Hey Husk, nice to meet you.” The cat grunted at you, and gave you a sorta glare. “Another deer. Course it fuckin is.” Husk muttered to himself bitterly, Charlie scolded him under her breath, before turning to you with a grin and a shrug of the shoulders. “He’s sweet once ya get to know him. Heh, anyways c’mon lets meet Angel!”
After about thirty minutes of running around you met all but one of the members residing within the hotel. As you skipped around the hotel you entirely forgot about the low grade heat buzzing between your legs, you were used to it after all, and you enjoyed yourself a lot, confessing to Charlie that you particularly enjoyed the rambunctious Nifty and flirty Angel.
“Alright, the last person of note is one of the most important. He’s been assisting in the hotel basically since the start, half of it wouldn’t be possible without him.” Charlie explained walking up to a door, on it had two different do not disturb signs. A large wood one nailed right on the door, and a second hanging off the handle.
Charlie picked the sign from its hanging position humming while examining it. “He’s never had these before.” She muttered, voice filled with confusion, however you were lost in a daze. This was the smell you could pick up down stairs, he must’ve been a buck, there wasn’t any other way.
The scent was pungent, nearly knocking you off your heels with arousal, it was musky, something only described as sweaty and primal. The natural hormones of the demon beyond the door were unlike anything you’ve experienced before; it was like he was a starved man, hungrier than ever and more than ready to breed.
It was dirty and you felt embarrassed at the reaction you were having, typically you had a low hum and no real desire to attempt to have sex with one of the many deer demons who came after you so this was a bit of a new experience. And it was nearly painful, you don’t even know the guy and yet it felt like you were being consumed by him.
“Hm, wait here I’ll go ask Nifty! She normally knows the most,” Charlie drifted off tilting her head at you. “You okay there?” She asked nervously, you promptly nod at that, inwardly cursing yourself for not being more controlled. “Yeah,” You quickly clear your throat trying to play off the lust filled tone for a dry throat. “Yes,” You say with more conviction. “Sorry it’s been a long day. Before you head off, would this guy happen to also be a deer?”
Charlie grinned super wide, purely whites on display. “He is! Best for last! I think you two will be happy to have each other haha,” She chuckled a little awkwardly, brushing her hair behind her ear. She shook her head, swiftly bidding you ado and walking off to find Nifty.
You waited a moment listening for anything down the halls, but you didn’t hear anything anywhere, and you couldn’t see anybody around, nor could you see cameras hidden in the corner. Walls crashing down, heart rate naturally kicking up; you unbuttoned your pants, spreading your legs and slipping your hand down your pants.
You whimpered at the contact of your cold fingers to your clit, feeling the sticky sensation of arousal cover the bit of thigh that your underwear didn’t touch. You soaked yourself just by the smell of the deer on the other side of the door. You slipped your middle finger and ring finger down, coating your fingers entirely before slipping them into you, curling them as you did.
You inhaled deeply resting your free arm against the door above your head for you to lean forward on, you didn’t have the intentions of fucking your self in the hall, but one thrust turned into three. Now you’re dripping, gasping for air and trying to keep yourself quiet when all you wanted to do was collapse and beg whoever occupied the other side of the door to please fuck the neediness out of you.
As you quickened your pace, your body quivered from the uncomfortable position, but you halted everything when you heard the unmistakable sound of a radio on the other side of the door. It was a gritty sound, garbled with no real sound coming out of it, just strange static. You tried to catch your breath as you listened closely, checking your left and right speedily ro assure you were still alone.
Suddenly the doorknob shifted the door falling open under your weight. Your legs stuttered attempting to catch your body, hand whipping out from inside you, slick and sticky with your arousal as if you were some whore. Unfortunately you weren’t able to catch yourself fast enough but lessened the brunt of the fall with your knees before your hands came down to finish. You were still in a blitzed out haze, but the room was pitch black, the only sound that could be heard was an ambient sound of nature and the faintest sound of the radio.
The only light that you were blessed with was the hall light from the opened door behind you. You could barely make out deer heads hung on the wall and a red couch before the door snapped shut leaving you alone in the darkness.
You whimpered, clenching your legs and your teeth, you could still hear the radio but it sounded like it was seriously messed up, switching stations, pitches and incorporating sounds you’d never heard from a radio, like growls and deep rumblings.
Your fear mixed with desire and the smell of lust was far more palpable in this room. It was so much harder to ignore the scent and the smell of the buck who was definitely worked up in this room. “What a depraved little doe you are.” You jumped at the voice, nothing like you expected. He sounded wicked, dark, and surprisingly, hornier than you.
You could now hear him in the room with you, his deep pants, the footsteps around, you swear you could’ve heard him accidentally hit his antler against something as well, it was like he just materialised. “What’re you doing out of bed so late? You do know how filthy bucks can be this time of year, don’t you.”
You yelped as two bright red eyes appeared just a few feet in front of you, either this guy was crouched or contorted as you never stood from the floor. As his eyes got closer to you, his being consumed you entirely, as it dawned on you that he was crawling toward you like a goddamn animal.
“Sorry.” You meekly whimpered, tilting your head back ever so slightly, neck on display for him. He let out a baritone chuckle, shocking you slightly, before he replaced that shock with a new-by pouncing on top of you.
He brought his face closer to yours, the crazily dialed eyes of his illuminating your face enough for him to properly see and observe your face. You however only got brief glimpses of a strained yellow smile, and messy red hair that stuck to his face from sweat. You could feel his body heat against you making your own body feel hotter by the second, his right hand sat above your head, his other grabbed ahold of the wrist that moments ago was deep inside you.
One of his knees sat outside of your body by your thigh, while the other knee occupied the inner thigh too close to your core for comfort, or perhaps not close enough. All you knew is this deer was one of the horniest you’ve ever come across, his breath was erratic chest heaving, breath tickling your face and neck, his eyes were blown and obviously a firey red bright enough to add a horror-esque ambience.
You could feel the strain he had against his suit pants, it was hard not to when in the position he took he was straddling one of your thighs. He gripped your hand harder bringing it up to his face, your heart pounding in your ribcage as you watched motionlessly.
He groaned at the sight of your still wet fingers, his smile stretching just slightly as his eyes momentarily closed. Then his mouth opened, as did his eyes, teasingly he opened his mouth bringing your fingers up to him, before he took a hold with his mouth swirling his long tongue around your digits. You whined, closing your eyes at the feeling, the way he did it was not just in an attempt to be pornographic but to properly taste you, coating his taste buds with your arousal. Pulling his mouth away with an exasperated groan, he dragged his sharp teeth along your flesh, leaving tiny cuts that exuded just enough blood to satiate his desire.
He pulled himself away properly, saliva stringing as he did. You peaked your eyes open, as suddenly a feeling of being sucked into the floor consumed you and you felt like screaming. Though it all happened too fast that you weren’t able to squeak anything out; the floor sucked you in and within seconds spit you out. Gently your body bounced against soft velvet comforters on what you assumed was a bed- his bed. Still surrounded by only the blackened room, the buck nowhere you could see, you sat there heart pounding, bewildered, scared and horny, a unique combination to be fair.
“Tell me, my dear doe. When was the last time you gave into such, primal desires?” The man’s voice appeared before he did, sliding up beside you from the shadows. “Never.” You whisper looking into his deepened red eyes. “I am so sorry. I avoid bucks, I came for business- I didn’t- god i’m sorry i couldn’t help myself- you fuckin,” You threw your head back groaning in frustration, feeling embarrassed to admit you were just about willing to do anything he said if it meant he spread you out and bred you.
He chuckled demonically, his hand sticking out to you. “Alastor, sweetheart, pleasure to meet you, quite, the pleasure.” Alastor’s radio voice lowered and he purred to you so sultry that you clenched your thighs together. Grasping his larger clawed hand that he had stuck out, you shook him tightly enjoying the warmth and contact. “YN, pleasure to meet you too.”
Gently pulling his hand away, Alastor inched his way closer to you, leaning over he placed his hand on the other side of your torso seemingly trying to resume the position he held on the floor. “I could smell you enter the hotel, you know. I keep myself away every season and no other passer by, has been an issue. So what is it that you’ve done my dear,” Alastor questioned accusingly while dragging a claw up your neck and getting back to being on top of you.
Alastor felt like he couldn’t help himself, he felt a yearning for sex he’d not felt ever, sure there’s been the occasional session with his hand on a particularly trying mating season, but never real feral need like this. He wanted to leave his mark on you, and keep all those other foul deer demons that may attempt to take their claim on you in the future.
Growling radio admission and static echoed throughout the room, Alastor promptly closed the inches between your bodies, gently collapsing on top of you. Alastor dragged his tongue up your neck from your collar to your jaw line, ending his travel with an opened mouth kiss. You whimpered at the sensation of his body against you clutching his shirt, as he nipped at your neck with his sharp teeth drawing blood.
His thigh was pressed against your core with the way he leant down on you, and you wondered if he could feel how you were pulsing desperately begging him to fill you. Against your will you jerked up grinding yourself into him, causing him to groan at the own pleasure he got from the friction. Alastor then pulled away entirely looking down at you, then a gentle red light flickered on, then another, and finally a third, lighting the room up with a reddish glow.
You weren’t focused on how, or where the light came from, but rather the man in front of you. You had no clue it was Alastor, as in thee overlord Alastor, although you should’ve put it together based on all the radio feedback that sounded from out of him. Of course you knew of him from your research but he’d been gone when you came down so you easily forgot him.
Alastor was dishevelled, without a suit coat, just a button up and his suit pants, his hair was a mess as you briefly saw before, but man oh man did he look a wreck. He was sweaty, his antlers were out on full display, his eyes lidded.
“I had no idea you were a deer.” You say eyeing him up and down, he chuckled at that. “So you know of me?” The question, you might almost say, sounded uncertain, perhaps before with the lights off lended the two of you a comfortable anonymity that you don’t have anymore. Nodding your head you can’t help but attempt to gain some friction between your legs. “Darling if you truly want this as much as I, then I'd be more than happy to satiate the hunger for both of us- so long as we see to a date and several others after. I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing you with another deer after me.”
Although this formal speech was out of place for your current predicament you looked past it because you wouldn’t mind this being more than a one time hook up. “Of course, I hate one night stands.” Smiling at him, his smile softened compared to its harsher one before. Alastor moved in, this time you were able to watch him in the dim light, leaning back fully and off your elbows, you got comfortable on the soft pillow that kept you somewhat propped up.
You wanted your hands free to touch him, and hold him. When his face was inches from you, lips barely touching, your hands came up to play with his hair. You go cautiously hearing rumours about the distaste he has for contact he doesn’t initiate, however the moment your hands connect to his hot neck, he moans, pushing himself down to connect to your lips.
He smiled through, as you expected him to, but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had, purely based on how intense he was once he finally got a taste of you. You just barely opened your mouth before his tongue was escaping his mouth to explore yours, it was a searing kiss one that was unique to anything before. His body once again lowered as he relaxed on top of you, most of his weight rested on you, which you loved the feeling of it was like he was encasing you with him.
You could feel the stiff hard on that ached to be freed, and his uneven breaths that expanded his chest further into yours, like a tide your chests pushed and pulled each other in and out. It was erotic, and as your make out session dragged on the messier it got, teeth scraping tongues fighting, saliva glistening on the perimeter of both of your mouths. Your hands dug into his hair occasionally touching his long antlers that were out, and everytime you did he’d moan statically into your mouth.
Alastor cared little about his poise and instead chased his own pleasure as his mouth entangled with yours, you were receptive and as needy as he was, so he felt no shame when he started to hump himself against your core. He took even more pleasure in hearing you whine for more, bucking up into him. You buttons were still undone from earlier which made him feel a sense of anger he couldn’t explain, he wanted to be the one to make you come undone, he wish he could’ve gotten to you before you fucked yourself against his door.
So with a new goal in the demons mind, he snaked his arm in between your bodies, him needing to lift himself a bit to do so, and snuck his hand down you pants straight to your soaking wet core. Gasping at the contact you jerked up into his hand, his fingers sliding down the length of you leaving no area untouched.
“Impatient?” Alastor mocked pulling away finally, although he was in no place to, as even the simplest word came out jagged and out of breath. “Alastor please,” You begged unable to stop the way you jerked up into the warmth of his hand.
With contemplative hum Alastor halted all movement making you groan. It was unbearable to put up with, perhaps the foreplay of it all would be more enjoyable if it wasn’t such a painful lust you were in. Snapping his fingers, cool washed over your body like freezer air, and soon you realized you were left bare.
You jumped curling into yourself afraid of being so suddenly exposed. Looking up you were surprised to find the overlord himself nude with you, the comforter that once laid flat underneath you now pulled up behind him. Leaning forward blanket following in suit behind him, you simply stared at him, the markings on his body, the fact he had two tone skin, and of course the more obvious aspect of his body, the fact he was hung.
Covering the two of you under the safety of the blanket, Alastor pulled your legs apart gently, body slotting back where it’s supposed to be in between your legs. “You’re devine torture my dear. Attempting to be somewhat gentlemenly in a state like this, when you’re so desperate, is absolute torture.” Alastor grit out, his static gone as he struggled against the animalistic urge to dive into you.
Breathing out a breath you had no clue you were holding, you begged him pressing your body up into his. Thoughtlessly you reached down between you two, wrapping your legs around his torso to nudge him closer, and slowly you wrapped your fingers around him making him almost robotically crackle.
Giving him a few awkward strokes, due to your position, you guided him towards your entrance that needed no prep, with how you pulsed aching, and dripped greedily you weren’t too worried about pain.
Alastor barely took your guidance, as once you stroked him a twig snapped, when you lined him up to your entrance, he jerked forward plunging into you rather harshly causing your body to jolt. A heat shot through your body crawling down your pelvis straight to your toes, while your jaw hung open, unable to make the noise. Alastors radio was popping and crackling as he fucked into you, grinding his body against your own, he was pouring himself into you as fast as he could and for him it still wasn’t fast enough.
Meanwhile you were still attempting to catch up, your brain hazily lagging behind as your body jerked along with every thrust. You could feel yourself dripping down the length of him, the wet slapping of skin was just more indication you were practically a faucet. Reaching upward to grab onto his neck, it was your turn to growl viciously, loving the way his eyes and smile looked in this fucked out haze.
Grinning at him you tilted your head back, eyes closed at the insane pace Alastor was attempting. “Fuck Al, just like that please don’t fuckin stop,” You moan spreading your legs further apart so your clit was more exposed to his flesh that came slapping down.
One of his hands grasped your neck lightly squeezing, you clenched in tandem with his choking, absolutely loving the feeling of him having you at his mercy. “Who knew such a sweet face would be so, filthy.” Alastor said through a toothy smile his radio voice was gone only leaving his strained raw vocals.
You let out wails of pleasure as he fucked you into the mattress, before you roughly pulled Alastors head down forcing him to give you a kiss. Your tongues met before your lips did as neither of you were going in for gentle but rather a greedy taste of one another.
Alastor moaned and whimpered more when kissing you seemingly without hesitation, making you feel closer to the edge then before. Arching your body up you clawed Alastors back begging him, tears threatening to spill and the feeling of need. “Please Alastor, please fuck- so good it’s gonna- i’m gonna cum- Al don’t stop,” You cried loudly stumbling over what you wanted to say as you felt hot all over.
Above you Alastor could barely hold on, his forehead rested against you as you cried, wailing for him to fuck you begging for him to make you cum, and he knew from how you cried for him, ge was gonna. He also knew he wasn’t far himself feeling as you clenched and leaked all over the bed, it was disgusting and he loved it. Your skin stuck to his as his body came crashing down on yours legs too shaky to hold him himself up, but his pace didn’t let up all that much still forcing himself deep into you, marking every inch of you.
You screamed, clawing his back wrapping your arms around him as you convulsed. You whined about how it was so good how hard you were coming but it got mixed up in his mind as he focused on the violent gushes of liquid that rushed out of you. It seemed your orgasm kept being pulled out as you continued to gush around him making him bellow out his own praises of how good you felt, how glad he was you were coming on his cock and making a wet mess of his bed.
Alastor was ravenous as he used your cunt to milk him of everything he had trying hard to get himself as deep as possible in you. Meanwhile you continued to moan and whine at him your orgasm still pushing on gushes is liquid squirting out of you as your sentive mating body wanted more, wanted to be bred and was ready to hold out to do so.
And bred it was, Alastor bit onto you as he came, loving the feeling of filling you to the brim, it wasn’t anything he’d done or felt before. You groaned, smiling wickedly and you hungrily kissed up his neck pulling his ear with your teeth, whispering to him about how badly you wanted to be filled with his cum, eyes rolling back as he stilled in you finally.
Your body ceased a bit before his movement ceased, It was all insanely animalistic. Now as Alastor laid on top of you, still inside you, you felt the post nut clarity truly hit you. You were still in a lustful haze, however you’d never been that much with a man, nevermind one you haven’t properly met. Although you didn’t mind, as you dragged your fingers through his sweaty hair you reminded yourself he wanted to see you more, not just use you.
Taking a deep breath, Alastor enjoyed the smell of your skin and the doe pheromones you naturally let off. In the back of his mind twisted questions that he couldn’t bother trying to answer. His head laid under your chin, face between your breasts dazed and staring off into space. You cautiously traced your fingers up his ears, his antlers fell in size back to little sticks. His ears twitched but he made no remark as you gently played with them.
“Do you regret it?” You broke the silence with the nasty feeling of worry in your gut, worry that you messed up, worried you both made a mistake. Alastor let out a long hum, his radio frequencies back in action as he did. “No dear not at all. Lust or not I was certain about my decision. I had the strength to hold back when I heard you on the other side of the door but I didn’t want to.” Alastor admits still a little coy is his delivery.
Although he did a very good job at assuring you because any doubt you had vanished. It was a vulnerable time for the both of you, during mating season, that having the knowledge that he still could’ve kept control, kept himself on the other side of the door but instead choose to claim you, yeah made your heart and mind content.
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smoft-demons · 3 months
Text
MC needs some extra love
_______
You’re having an off day. Your demons have asked to make sure nothing’s actually wrong, just to be safe, but they’ve seen you like this a few times before. They understand. You’re just feeling down for no particular reason. Just sad and low energy. Extra tired.
Nothing happened, no one hurt you, nothing’s wrong… you just woke up in a low mood. Because it simply be like that sometimes. You just… need some extra affection today. No reason. It’s okay, they’re not judging. They’ll do what they can to cheer you up a little—they love you, you know. They want to see you smile at least once today.
_______
Lucifer:
When Lucifer notices your mood, he softens towards you a lot. He asks if anything is wrong first of course—they all do—but once he learns that there’s nothing he needs to correct and no one he needs to punish on your behalf, he just softens. He treats you more gently than usual.
He expects you’ll get fed up entertaining all his brothers, with their endless chaotic energy. So he invites you to hide out with him in his office. You are invited to just sit with him and read, or put on some music, or play a game on your DDD, or just rest… or whatever it is that will help.
He’ll even let you curl up in his lap and cuddle with him if that’s what you want. That cheers him up too.
He quietly redistributes the most taxing of your chores for today amongst the seven of them, to give you time to recharge.
You’ll find Levi and Beel doing the dishes for you when it’s your turn, or if you’re supposed to make dinner you’ll find that Mammon and Asmo have already ordered everyone takeout, and they’re already in the middle of setting it all out on the table. You won’t have to do a thing! If you were supposed to clean up a common space in the house, it’ll already be done by some of your assorted pact partners. You might even find sticky notes placed amongst your homework in Lucifer’s, Satan’s, and Belphie’s handwriting, suggesting edits and books titles to check for better information, and pointing out any parts in your work that are particularly well done.
When you check your DDD later, you see that Lucifer had instructed his brothers to take on what they can from you to make your life easier today. He was not planning on letting you know that, clearly—because he sent that in the brothers group chat. You only know because Karasu’s spy feature showed you.
His support is shown in all these soft, quiet details. Peaceful moments. Simple, but unmistakable reminders of how loved you are. It’s okay if you don’t smile today, even though he would like you too. He will verbally remind you that loves you anyway.
_______
Mammon:
Mammon’s first instinct, of course, is retail therapy. He offers to take you shopping. He’ll even pay for your stuff! He doesn’t mind if it makes you happy!
You appreciate that very much—and maybe you’d be happy to take him up on that if you were sad for a reason, but… you just have no spare energy. Just thinking about going out exhausts you more. You’d have to deal with looking at things! And forming opinions, and deciding on stuff to buy! There’s crowds and cashiers and bright lights and just… stuff outside! You can’t, you just can’t. You have no energy and you can’t.
The first time Mammon sees you like this, he’s confused. You don’t wanna go out? You don’t want any new stuff?? He sure hasn’t felt like that before!
He puts effort into figuring out what will actually help cheer you up instead. He’s considerate that way.
He tries taking you for a long drive. He tries taking tasks off your to-do list. He tries trailing after you all day to keep you company, holding your hand, chattering all day so you can’t hear your thoughts, staying quiet so you don’t get overstimulated. He cycles through every possible approach over the months, on every random day you happen to wake up like this.
It’s all greatly appreciated—and hey, some of his ideas work better than the rest! You feel loved and cared for regardless. It’s impossible to miss how much he adores you.
Eventually though, he strikes gold!
That particular day, he had been telling you a stupid joke every time he ran into you, in an attempt to make you smile. He gets a weak grin for his troubles just about halfway through the day. He beams at you triumphantly at that, impulsively scooping you up for a hug and repeatedly kissing the top of your head, and—aha! THERE’S the smile he was looking for!
From that point on, he knows what to do!
The next time you wake up in this mood, he takes the first opportunity to give you a playfully over the top show of affection. Over the course of the day, he keeps doing it!
He runs into you in the hallway between classes, he (gently) aggressively ruffles your hair as he passes you. He finds you aimlessly walking through the house, you immediately get snatched into his arms for a nice long squeeze. You sit with him as he’s scrolling through devilgram, he sets it aside for a moment to squish your cheeks between his hands and cover your forehead and nose with loud, playful kisses. You go up to him and request attention? You get kiss attacked, and he won’t let up until you crack a smile!
Your brain hurts, he says, echoing your very first explanation. It’s okay though, he says. He’ll kiss it better, he says.
He is MORE than happy to completely discard the tsundere façade to lean into this… over-the-top affectionate silliness, as long as it continues to make you laugh and smile like that.
He won’t admit it, but… this is more honest. This is much closer to who he is at heart than his usual behaviour is. Try as he might, he can’t hide how much he cares to save his life.
The realest aspect of Mammon is not the dumbass, not the money-grubber, not the uncaring cool guy that he pretends to be… no, it’s the goofy dork who loves you SO much that he’d go to any amount of effort to cheer you up.
He’s damn good at it too! HE was put in charge of your well-being for a reason! He’s the best big brother/guardian/friend/pact partner ever, and you’re his to take care of. He’s not letting HIS human go without smiling once for a whole day! You’re the sole member of his family he can openly dote on, and dammit, he will!
_______
Levi:
Levi’s go-to is, of course, distracting you with media. He tries games first, but if you’re too low-energy for that, he gets it. He tries anime, movies, shows, videos, manga, whatever you seem to respond best to.
You’ll notice a theme of letting others help, confiding in friends, opening up to people. There are repeated instances of characters asking for support from the rest of the cast and then being helped and taken care of. Lots of power of friendship stories, lots of hurt/comfort and “it’s rotten work” “not to me, not if it’s you” and team-as-family.
Maybe, just maaaybe, he’s trying to tell you something!
He relaxes when you explain that you just woke up like this, sometimes this just happens and it’s no one’s fault, there’s no problem, he doesn’t have to worry about you. He gets that! Sometimes he wakes up like that too. It does happen!
But… you’re his player two! He wants to worry about you!
So he takes care of you the way he wishes someone would take care of him when he gets like that. Gives you the extra love he knows first-hand that you need right now. He lets you choose the entertainment, he holds your hand, and mirrors what you do to self-soothe.
If you wanna lie on the floor and stare at his jellyfish decorations, he’s right next to you. If you wanna tell Henry how you’re feeling, he’s right there with you doing the same so you don’t have to feel self-conscious. If you’re stimming, he will too. That one makes him happy as well! If you wanna burrow into a pile of blankets and plushies like a hognose snake, he totally gets it and will also do that. He does that anyway sometimes, just because it’s comfy.
There’s not a hint of judgement from Levi. Ever. He gets it.
When you guys HAVE to leave his room, like for meals and such, he lends you his headphones. So you don’t get overstimulated from all the noise his brothers make. He never goes far from you, either. He always stays close enough that you can reach for him if you want to.
After dinner, when you’re tired and done with trying to act normal (not that even one of your demons is fooled), Levi brings you back to his room. He asks if you have any requests, anything you want to do, anything he can do to help you. If you know what you need, he’ll just do it. If you don’t, he’ll offer comfort in some form that makes sense to him. He understands that all you really need is some extra love when you’re like this, so he’s not at a loss. He gets it, he feels the same way sometimes, he can do that!
You end up curled up in his lap, hiding your face in his shoulder as he watches an anime you’ve both seen before at a low volume. Familiar and comforting. He’s happy to just sit and chill with you until you feel like you’ve recharged enough. He knows you’d do the same for him.
_______
Satan:
Satan’s instinct, once he learns what’s going on, is to bring you to the quiet spot outside where the stray cats he has befriended gather and then plonk the chillest one in your lap.
Cats are perfect fluffy little warm purring bundles of free therapy, after all. How could you not be recharged by this?
He’s not wrong, the cat definitely helps. It is in fact a perfect creature.
But… well, you don’t bother to spend the energy on saying so, but being outside isn’t really helping. You cringe at every loud noise. The wind ruffling your clothes every so often is annoying you. You’re sitting on concrete and it’s making you cold. The streetlights feel particularly aggressive to your eyes today. Very stabby. There are smells outside! No one wants that!
You love the cats, but Satan is giving them all his attention and you’re getting just a little bit jealous. You as well are giving the cat in your lap all your attention, and—as stupid as you feel about it—you’re getting a little bit jealous about that too. You want attention too! All the cat has to do is be cute and soft and it can have all the petting and cuddling it wants! As it deserves, yes, but… don’t you as well, though..?
You try to push that feeling away and just pet the cat. The cat did nothing wrong, you still love it, you’re supposed to be feeling MORE recharged from this! Not… whatever it is you do feel. At the end of the day you still enjoy petting the cat and you don’t want it to leave. That’s still true and that’s what matters, you tell yourself.
Eventually the cat decides it’s had enough petting for now, and gets up. Satan checks on you, fully expecting you to be thoroughly cheered up! Instead he sees you staring forlornly at your hands, mostly zoned out. Confused, he asks if you’re okay.
You nod once, giving him a hollow smile.
Now he’s concerned. He takes a minute to finish petting the cats surrounding him—noting the hint of jealousy in your eyes as you observe him—then comes to sit on the concrete stair next to you.
He gently points out that he knows you well enough to detect a lie. Especially an unconvincing lie like that. You give a noncommittal hum in reply. That’s all you have the energy for.
He wraps an arm around your shoulders, letting you slump against his side. Your head leans against his shoulder. His other arm comes up to stroke your head for a moment, then drops down again to take your hand.
In a small, tired voice, you thank him. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze in reply.
Eventually he adjusts you so he can hold you more comfortably. Every so often he kisses the top of your head, or rubs your shoulder, or squeezes your hand, or says something quietly to you. Pointing out a interesting leaf shape, telling you something inconsequential about his day, prompting you to look when one of the cats does something cute, reminding you that he loves you and it’s okay to feel like this. That he enjoys your company no matter what mood you’re in.
This helps a lot more. Eventually you have enough energy to reply to him in full sentences! He’s visibly relieved at that. Still, he continues to hold you.
It’s after this point that a different cat comes up to you. It sniffs your shoelace then rubs itself against your leg. It flops over your shoe, stretching adorably with its little paws reaching up. It looks up at you all wide-eyed and cute, and finally you give a short puff of a laugh. Satan feels it more than hears it, but still!! He feels successful!
You pet this cat as it stands up and sniffs at your free hand. You look at it with a little smile. There’s a bit more soul in this smile, to Satan’s relief.
Later, as the two of you are leaving, he slips the cat a treat and whispers a thank you to it. Then he takes your hand again and leads you back home.
(He makes a mental note to himself for next time: pet the sad human first!! Then go see the cats!)
_______
Asmo:
Asmo notices that you’re having one of those days today, and he rushes to spoil you. Like Mammon, his first instinct is to take you shopping—but specifically for clothes and makeup and skincare products. Stuff that would cheer him up.
But you’re tired, and he understands that. It’s okay, he still knows what to do!
Asmo brings you into his room. You curl up in a sad, tired lump on his bed. He lets you chill there while he gathers up the stuff he wants.
He returns to you with his arms full of stuff! Nail polish, face masks, a hairbrush, moisturizer and hair oil, etc etc. Stuff for taking care of you.
He makes a point of only doing stuff that doesn’t sting at all. No plucking eyebrows or messing with your cuticles or anything like that. Just the stuff that feels nice.
Asmo quietly chatters about people he knows and stuff he’s used and whatever the latest gossip he’s heard is. Not even really to inform you this time, because he knows you’re probably not gonna remember much when you’re like this, but more to provide you with a constant, grounding backdrop of his familiar voice.
He speaks softly to you as he wipes your face with cleanser and then proceeds with his skincare process. He gently brushes your hair, spending twice as long as necessary just because it feels nice. He insists you don’t bother to move as he sits next to you and paints your nails.
At some point he runs out of stuff to do, so he ends up just brushing over your face with a clean makeup brush. No product on it at all, he’s just doing it to make you relax, because it’s soft and it feels nice. It’s meditative, honestly. For both of you.
He spends a good long while doing that.
He finishes up and lies down next to you. He pulls you into a cuddle. You offer to return the favour for him. Do his skincare and hair and nails and stuff for him, spoil him back—because he deserves the best.
For the first time ever, he declines. He shushes you and holds you tighter. This is the only situation in which he would ever refuse that!
He says you’re more than welcome to return the favour tomorrow if you like, but for now he just wants you to rest. He did all that for you to get you in this relaxed state you’re in right now, don’t get up and un-relax yourself so fast! Keep your brain turned off! It’s good for you sometimes!
… yes, Asmo is surprised by his own selflessness too—more surprised than you are by now, knowing him. He’s always been selfless for your sake since you first became his friend. It still surprises him though.
_______
Beel:
Beel is your best guy for validation. For quiet, thoughtful, unwavering support. He’s a lot more insightful than he’s often given credit for. He’s one of the best people in this family in terms of emotional intelligence, no question about it.
He knows just what to do. He observes you as the day goes on, taking the first opportunity to pull you aside and check on you without any others around. Just to make absolutely sure there’s nothing else going on.
His voice is soft, his hands are gentle, and he puts effort into understanding you. You’re family, he loves you so much! So of course he would.
He’ll share his food with you of course—both because he wants you to know that he loves you that much, and because he’s trying to remove a task from your to-do list. You don’t have to think about getting food and preparing it and any of that if he just. Does it for you. You can spend your very limited energy elsewhere.
He’ll take you with him on his routine walk, just so you can have a change of scenery and an opportunity to chat uninterrupted.
He listens to you complain about being outside with his characteristic placid sympathy—a combination that would be a bit contradictory if it came from anyone else, but somehow makes perfect sense for Beel. It’s soothing. Reassuring, somehow. He helps a lot, just by being himself.
When you inevitably run out of energy—much quicker than you usually do, but you expected that—he offers to carry you. Or rather, he automatically goes to do it on muscle memory, because that’s just what he does with tired loved ones (Belphie usually). He catches himself and realizes he should ask first in this case. Just to make sure. He’s considerate like that.
You are very tired… and you want contact. So of course you accept the offer. How could you refuse when he offers so earnestly?
He walks in measured, consistent steps as he carries you. The sway of his movement is deliberately relaxing. He’s trying to lull you into a meditative haze, or maybe put you to sleep. Either is good, he thinks.
The warmth of him makes the… everything about being outside when you’re feeling this way a lot more tolerable. The sounds of his footsteps, his breaths, his heartbeat… all of that drowns out the background noise just enough. Your face is pressed into his jacket, so the streetlights don’t stab your eyes and all the distressingly inconsistent outside smells are entirely covered by the spices-aromatics-soap scent of Beel. It’s a smell you know very well, and the familiarity of it is grounding.
Everything about him is grounding, really. He really did know exactly what to do.
At the end of the day… it’s okay if you don’t smile. He would like you to, of course, but he will meet you where you’re at. Anyway, it’s more important to him that you feel like it’s safe to show however it is you actually feel around him. He understands the amount of trust that takes, and he’s honoured by it. Nothing is more important to him than that trust.
So, you don’t have to smile. It’s okay.
Don’t be strong, he tells you. There’s no need, for now. Just let him. Rest, lean on his strength—he’s got more than enough for both of you. He’s got you. He’s not going anywhere.
_______
Belphie:
Oh, you’re tired? A bit sad, a bit grouchy? Damn. Looks like even HE has more energy than you today. That’s not something he sees often! Well, that’s fine. He knows what to do.
It’s straight to baby jail with you!
In his arms, that is. In bed, surrounded by his best pillows, covered by the least warm heavy blanket he has, so you won’t overheat but will still feel nice and covered.
He positions you so you’re facing each other, with your head tucked under his chin. So you have room to comfortably breathe and talk, but your face is still as covered as possible so you won’t be bothered by any lights.
Emotional intelligence may not be Belphie’s strong suit, but he is observant and he understands exhaustion. This may not exactly be the usual kind of exhaustion, but still! There’s no demon better equipped to understand what’s going on with you right now, just by nature.
He’s totally fine with cuddling you in silence if you don’t feel like talking. That really works for him, actually, because it allows him to nap.
Not that he doesn’t WANT to listen to you. He does. He’d be happy to. But he gets it if you don’t wanna bother with that. It’s okay.
He will, however, delay taking a nap until you doze off first. He just wants to make sure you’re okay. He’s not about to just fall asleep and abandon you if you still need attention.
If you’re not falling asleep very fast, he will help. Not with magic, surprisingly. He’s being more… gentle, he supposes, than that in this situation.
He talks quietly about nothing important. The soft drone of his voice, kept consistent and deliberately soporific, melts into your brain like butter, slowing it way down. Blocking everything else out. Gradually turning it off. One hand rubs your back slowly, almost as if to match the rhythm of his voice.
It’s so relaxing. You feel like you could stay like this forever and never want to move, you’re that comfortable.
Belphie knows what he’s doing.
It works really well! He makes sure you feel loved and cared for, then makes sure you get some extra rest. Mental and physical recharging.
Of course, you wake up feeling a lot better. Maybe not entirely back to your normal self yet, but definitely better. How could you not?
You’re a lot less tired after you’ve slept, and less sad too… so he’s succeeded—but you’re still not smiling!
He can fix that, right?
He lets you get up and stretch first, of course. He does the same. Before you leave the room though, he wraps you up in another hug.
He pulls back to examine your face after a minute or two.
Hmm… you look comfy, but still no smile! He can’t have that! So he hugs you tightly again, but this time his fingers start to lightly poke and brush over your sides. He’s trying to force you to smile by tickling you. He’s not gonna do too much, he’s not trying to overwhelm you. He stops as soon as you crack a smile.
There we go, he says as he gives you one last gentle squeeze. That was all he wanted, he tells you.
He doesn’t let go of you for long, over the rest of the day. Always holding your hand, giving you random hugs, draping himself over your shoulders—but without making you take all his weight for once, because he knows you’re still kinda tired. Enough of it to be soothing, but no more. Just so you don’t get lonely. He doesn’t want you to get all sad again.
If you do get sad again though, it’s okay. He will squish the sadness out of you all over again, as many times as you need. He doesn’t mind.
_______
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empyreva · 4 months
Text
Loser's Spoils
Summary: Luke usually loves treating you like his own little goddess, but after you cost him a game of capture the flag...he wants to change things up.
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Word count: 4.1k
Warnings: Established relationship, Daughter of Aphrodite!Reader (not that important), Mean!Luke Castellan, smut, P in V, PWP, oral sex (m and f), fingering, dom/sub elements, slight dubcon (always check in with your partners!!), kink exploration, slapping, some degradation (and praising)
A/N: Shameless indulgence. I tried to stick to this audio as best as I could but I think that in teen/ya relationships, holding a more serious dom/sub dynamic is a little harder so Luke is super good at making sure you're ok because it's all new to him too...Minors DNI!!
Other campers were quick to dodge out of your and Luke's paths, sensing that he would not hesitate to body-check them if they didn't. A cloud of wrath (with a tinge of humiliation) seemed to engulf your boyfriend--They knew better than to question it at all, scurrying back to do whatever chores and tasks they had been mildly interrupted from before.
Before you knew it, Luke had dragged you into your cabin, looking around for any of your, as he put it, 'overly pretentious' siblings. Aphrodite's cabin was empty, much to his delight, and he dragged you into the bathroom with a loud SLAM of the door. Once inside, he let go of you with a slight push, seeming to not pay you any mind as he fussed about the area.
"Luke, what the fuck?" You hissed, rubbing your now tender arm as Luke propped one of the vanity chairs beneath the door knob to ensure no one would be able to accidentally wander in. It was a good precaution--Three too many of your sisters now can't even look at him without becoming almost visibly upset. "What's your problem today?"
"Don't act like you don't know, baby," Luke turned around with a dark look in his eyes, causing you to gulp back any further questions. "You've hurt my feelings today, y'know? First by not joining my team...and then by winning because you know I couldn't hurt my pretty little girl--acting all brave and jumping in to protect that twerp of an Apollo kid."
"Baby, it's just a game..." You reached up to caress his tense jaw, his facade faltering for a split second as he took in your soft touch, "I mean, they just needed another player--that kid is literally like 11 so-" Luke cut off your sentence by roughly pushing you against the vanity counter behind you--glass bowls and organizers full of various makeup products rattling from the force. His hands planted at either side of you, hips flushed to yours. 
"I. Don't. Care," he growled. A whimper escaped your throat, feeling something hard pressing against you--growing in size with every breath that your boyfriend took. "You were disloyal, you won, you know that drives me crazy."
"'m sorry," you mumbled, trying your best to bat your long lashes at him, fingers brushing against the hem of his shirt. This was a common occurrence between the two of you--You 'defeating' the 'best swordsman' just by distracting him enough to let your teammates finish up the game. How could he even raise his sword at a girl like you, batting your lashes and pouting so cutely as a kid scurried off behind you? Even if he seemed mad about losing, losing to you drove him up the wall with desire—I mean, it always ended in Luke making you scream his name until your throat went hoarse, anyway. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."
"Yeah, you will," there was a glint of something sinister in Luke's eyes that unnerved you. It was like you were a piece of meat dangling before a starved wolf, just waiting to be devoured. "I'm not gonna let you off easy this time, baby. No, no...You need to be taught a proper lesson." He glared down at you, but his hand grasped yours gently, thumbing circles against your knuckles. "Ok? Now on your knees."
Obediently, you lowered yourself to the ground, hands in your lap as Luke discarded his belt and cargos quickly. His cock was already dripping with pearls of precum--and you couldn't help yourself as you eagerly took him in your mouth. Your head bobbed unhurriedly as you savored every inch of his hard cock, taking pleasure in the way his hips thrust forward instinctively. He liked it when you took your time, swallowing him whole and gagging. You moaned deeply, feeling his hand brush lightly against the nape of your neck, urging you to slow down.
"Shhh... Look at me," he commanded sternly. His voice was low and gravelly, making your insides quiver. You hesitated briefly before meeting his gaze fully, watching intently as he gazed intently into your soul. There was a fierceness in his expression that sent chills down your spine, and you knew that he meant business. His fingers traced your hollow cheeks, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ears, drinking in this image of you. "You look so cute, so adorable."
That comment flustered you more than the fact his dick was nearly halfway down your throat--and you immediately pulled back, words forming in your throat as the head of his cock brushed against your tongue. A fistful of your hair wrapped around Luke's hand, and he pushed your head until your nose was tickled by the curls of black hair at the base of his dick. "Shut the fuck up and look at me. Let me see my pretty girl."
Nearly, crossed-eyed, you stared up at Luke in a daze, nostrils flaring as you held back your urge to gag around him. He looked so handsome...a certain tortured look marred across his face as he contemplated whether he should cum down your throat while you clawed at his legs or if he should fuck you silly. Tough choice.
"I want to play with you," he finally decided aloud, releasing you from his cock, letting you gasp for air. It didn't last long, though, because Luke was quick to roughly pull you back onto your feet, a strong hand gripping your jaw. You gulped and heaved, daring not to move as Luke pressed up against you, eyes inspecting your flushed and sloppy face. It was just so kissable, his poor little baby. 
His tongue slipped into your mouth before you knew it, and your hands reached up to grab at his curls--pulling him deeper. A collection of quiet moans filled the bathroom, bouncing off the marble floors and pristine white walls. After a few minutes, Luke pulled away cheeks red and burning, staring down at you.
"Take your pants off, just the pants," he commanded, giving you just enough room to fumble with the button of your bottoms. After nervously missing the hole a few times, you were able to slide them off, kicking them to the side. You resisted the urge to rub your thighs together, instead choosing to look haphazardly at the floor. "Good girl, now look at me." 
You faltered, maybe from shyness or maybe from a sudden spark of rebellion, but your gaze remained pointed down at the space between you. Luke was stunned for a moment, tilting his head to the side before letting out a sarcastic chuckle.
"Look. At. Me."
Slap
Your gaze shot up, eyes wide as you began to register the sting radiating in your cheek before it dissipated. His slap wasn't too hard, more of a forceful pat. Eyes locking with yours, Luke seemed to be gauging your reaction, waiting for you to say the words that would have him begging for your forgiveness in a matter of seconds. They never came. 
Slap
"I said look at me when I'm speaking to you." 
Slap
Fuck okay, that one hurt a lot more. You let out a pained yelp, lip quivering as you tried to keep yourself steady. 
Slap
Luke shushed you when you tried to cry out, frowning when you flinched away from his hand--now he was just trying to caress your cheek. A small wave of regret washed over him, and a tightness in his chest pulled tighter. "Come here, it's ok," he beckoned, drawing you into a hug. You buried your face in his chest, biting back whimpers as he reassured you that you were a good girl and you were so brave and so strong for him. 
"Are you ok, baby?" He whispered into your hair, wanting to know before continuing. Nodding slowly, you pulled back to look at him with misty but loving eyes, a small smile stretching across your lips.
"I trust you, you know that." Luke was a man of many curiosities, so you were somewhat acclimated to his sudden changes in wants and needs during sex--even if albeit a bit shocking at first. But deep down, you knew that he would rather stab himself with backbiter a million times rather than force you into anything.
"Love you," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The two of you stayed quiet for a second, Luke touching you wherever he so pleased as you fell compliant under his touch. His fingers found yours, bringing one hand up to daintily kiss the back of it--a mischievous grin appearing as you met his gaze. In a split second, his hand was in your hair, tugging your head back sharply, earning a hiss in response.
"Shhh...it's ok, it's ok, baby," Luke's lips trailed down your cheek, ghosting over your neck before planting a few rougher kisses. You whimper, feeling his teeth sink into the tense skin, surely leaving a mark as he suckled and nipped. "Shh, we don't want people to hear us. Don't we?" Luke taunted you with his own deep moan, now moving onto his third mark--pulling away to look at you when he was sure your neck was going to be a nasty shade of 'Luke Purple' tomorrow morning.
"Spread your legs," he murmured, watching intently as you complied--shifting your ass and hips so that your soaking wet panties were on full display. You bit your lip shyly as Luke inhaled sharply, studying the way your squished-up belly rose and fell, the way you seemed to tremble just a little more when he took a step closer. "Good girl--You look so cute." 
He grabbed your throat, forcing you to look up at him, shushing you softly, "I know, I know, It's ok, I know, shh--" A smirk danced across his face before he leaned in, kissing you deeply, fingers feeling how wet you really were. "You're so fucking wet, aren't you embarrassed, slut?" In a quick movement, his open palm collided with your clothed pussy--sending shockwaves through your body. "Shhh...Put your hand over your mouth. Be quiet, be quiet for me." 
You shakily raised your hand to your mouth, chewing on the flesh of your middle as another slap morphed into a gentle stroke. "Are you gonna be quiet for me? Tell me. Tell me." 
"Y-Yes, Luke," you mumbled from behind your hand. His nostrils flared as his name bounced off your tongue, such a sweet sound. "I'll be quiet for you." 
"Good girl--now shut the fuck up." Luke continued to shush you as he pulled the thin cloth of your panties to the side, thumbing over your clit and dipping between your slickening folds. "Sit up there, back against the wall. Now. Good Girl. Shhh--Spread your legs for me, good girl. Just a little more, good job." 
Your sizzling hot skin left behind foggy marks on the mirror behind you as you leaned back--the coolness of the glass doing little to ease the fire inside of you. A slick layer of sweat spread across your body, pooling at the small of your back. Luke continued his teasing touches, evading your pussy and instead stroking the tender flesh beside it until you squirmed. You were breathing too loudly.
"Do you want me to touch you, baby? Then be fucking quiet, ok?" The fake sweetness left an uncomfortable pit in your stomach--but it was quickly forgotten as Luke's deft fingers circled your clit, moving in all the right ways. He knew your body too well, like the back of his hand. "This is all mine. My girl, so cute," he purred, pushing up your shirt and bra in one motion, mouthing at one of your tits as he shifted his forearm. Fingers abandoning your clit, two of them slipped between your folds--teasing and brushing over your hole before abruptly plunging inside with a curl.
"You like this, yeah? Shhh--" The pace was inhuman, the sound of your wet pussy squelching around his fingers growing louder. "You look so pretty." 
You threw your head back, trying to swallow back your whimpers and moans, hips rolling into Luke's touch. Gods, you didn't even realize how much stamina he had with how he plunged his fingers inside of you without even a slight change in pace. "Shut the fuck up, let me take care of you, it's ok, I promise. I promise baby," his cooing was mocking, each word dripping with a promise of something even more sinister than the tortured ministrations at hand. "I'm gonna fuck you so fucking hard. Aww, I can see it in your eyes, you want it so badly, yeah?" 
"Please," you couldn't stop the words from coming out of you, and Luke was quick to silence you. At this angle, you could see his biceps flexing, the way his shoulders tensed and released--it was like a daydream. His free fist wrapped around your neck, causing you to choke on air as you struggled to swallow and gasp. 
"Shh, try to be quiet, shh. Gods you're so fucking wet, you look so pretty." Somehow, he managed to up the speed even more--your toes curling and legs clamping down on his forearm as it flexed and strained to keep pleasuring you. "Do you want me to fuck you? Do you? Say it, say it." 
"Y-yes, yesyesyesyes," you cried out, only for Luke to squeeze your neck even tighter. "So close, please--" He shushed you, lips smashing against yours until your teeth clanked together in the frenzy. Tears welled and spilled your eyes from the mounting pressure in your belly, so close but so fucking far--He knew just how to play you. A flicker of concern came and went from Luke's eyes, and he pressed his body closer to yours, the fabric of his old camp shirt tickling your skin.
"Shh, I know, you're freaking out, I know," Luke pressed his lips to your tear-stained cheek, "Calm down, I know, I know. I'm just fingering you, it's ok." You could hear the faintest 'Don't cry' come out with his next breath, but you honestly couldn't be certain. His hand moved up and gripped your jaw tightly, squeezing it until you couldn't help but protest the pain--prompting him to silence you with his mouth. Tongues battling, his fingers slowed their dangerous pace, coming to a gentle stroke against your fluttering walls. A bridge of saliva kept the two of you connected, pulling tight like a tension wire before snapping as Luke took a step back to admire his work. "You're so pretty--Y'want me to pet your pretty clit, yeah?"
You nodded eagerly, trying to form the right words to scream 'Yes please!' but Luke cut you off with a harsh shush as his thumb came in contact with your puffy clit. It felt like a spell was cast over you, the way you couldn't peel your eyes off of Luke's face--his eyebrows furrowed as he worked you closer and closer to your much-needed release. Your gaze was obvious, and Luke gave you a wicked grin, quickening the pace of his deft fingers until you had to choke back your whines with a bite to your knuckle.
"This is my pussy and anyone else who tries to fuck it will never be as good as me. No one will ever measure up to me, understand me?" Luke growled, curling his fingers just right so they brushed and stroked against that special spot deep within you. You couldn't help your reaction, hips bucking and chasing your orgasm that Luke just kept skirting you away from. 
"Fuck, ff-fuck, Luke-"
"Shhh, calm down. I know, baby, I'm the only one who can fuck you like this, I know. Say it,” he taunted, a Cheshire grin beaming up at your half-lidded eyes. A dumb nod came naturally, but he tutted and pursed his lips in a sense of disappointment. “I said 'Say it'." 
"Y-You're nghhh the o-only w'can fuck m'this way," you whimpered, weepy doe eyes looking up at him for approval. It was wholly pathetic; the tears trailing down your cheeks, the way you could barely even breathe, the way you just had so much love and adoration for the boy in front of you—denying you your release and ruining you. "Please Luke, please fuck me."
"Gods, you're such a good girl, d'y'know that?" Luke groaned, slipping his fingers out of you much to your dismay. He shushed your whiney protests, dry fingers wrapping around your throat, his thumb threatening to press down on your windpipe. “Love how you beg for me.” He was so much stronger than you, so much bigger, so fucking powerful. Two slick-covered fingers made their way up to your mouth, and you eagerly accepted them with a low moan. "That's so good, baby. Keep sucking yourself off my fingers like a little slut, yeah?"
Your pink, wet tongue licked at his two digits like one would a popsicle on a hot summer day. Drool mixed with your juices on his fingers as you gagged around them, low moans threatening to spill over. It was sloppy, your soft moans vibrating his fingers as you made eye contact with your boyfriend, needing his approval. He smiled, releasing your throat so he could knead into the flesh of your thigh, his touch hot and needy. Distracted with the show you were giving Luke, it was too late before you realized just how close his cock was to your pussy—
"Ahh—W-wait, Luke," you cried out as he slammed into you, his dick sliding down to the hilt without warning. Your pussy clenched and spasmed as you tried to adjust to the size of him, hips squirming. He didn't even stop for a second, picking up a fast and dizzying pace, fingers still hooked in your mouth. Gods, he was drilling into you so hard and it just felt so good--
"Shut the fuck up, shut up, I don't care," Luke growled, his voice heavy with need. Despite his cruel words, there was an underlying tenderness in his touch, and you could feel the intensity of him growing more fervent and unhinged with each passing second. His moans filled the room, sounds that you were only ever allowed to hear. Squelches and slaps and the sickest, wettest, most depraved noises intoxicated you--And every time he hit a particularly sensitive spot within you, you couldn't help but let out a choked cry, struggling to remain silent.
"Shut your pretty fucking mouth and be fucking quiet," he demanded, his tone laced with desperation. You gave him a weak nod, but his attention was already drawn away as he changed his angle to have a little more leverage. Moans and whines dripped from Luke's tongue like honey, oozing through the room and straight down to your clenching core. His hips swung and snapped against yours, a steady and rough pace keeping you on the tip of your toes. "I'm trying to be quiet but your pussy just feels so goddamn good,” well that was just a flat-out lie at the sheer volume that he even said it. “Does my cock make you forget all your manners?" You nodded without even thinking, lips parted as you tried to catch your breath. 
"Fuck yeah," he muttered roughly, his breath hot against your cheek. You swore you could feel his cock twitching inside of you. "You want me to go faster?" he huffed, his breathing ragged. "Fuck you harder?" His voice was cracking and straining, his teeth clenching as he tried to hold back his whines and whimpers. 
Without waiting for a response, he increased his pace, grinding against you with a fierce intensity. His hands dug tightly into your hips as he pulled you closer to him, moving your body for you like all you were was some fucktoy for him to use and abuse. Choking softly on his own breaths, he fucked you harder and deeper, his rhythm becoming increasingly frantic—face buried in the crook of your neck. You couldn't help but wrap an arm around him, the other keeping you stable on the counter as he rutted and bucked into you, pulling him close to you. "Luke," you breathed out, "calm, baby."
"No no no, it’s ok, shh," his voice was trembling, fighting back a moan at just hearing you say his name so sweetly. It seemed like it was more of a reminder for him less than you, to try and keep his composure for just a few minutes more. He never wanted this to end. You guided his face to look up at you, his eyes lost behind his sweaty black curls, but his lips didn't fail to connect with yours. Nipping at his bottom lip, you moaned into him--a gesture he reciprocated eagerly. He couldn't even pull away, letting out a muffled, "'m so fuckin' close, baby. Wan' you t'cum on me--fuck, cum on my cock, baby."
“Mmmm so close,” you moaned in agreement, rolling your hips to meet his. “Please touch me, Luke.” You didn’t have to ask twice, his fingers shooting down to the junction where the two of you were connected. A rough pad dragged across your clit—rubbing almost as frantically as his hips slammed into you, your head dropping back in pure ecstasy. You were so fucking close, so close, just a little more…
He didn't scold you for how loud you were getting, he didn't even falter when your thighs began to shake and your nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders until the skin broke. And he didn't stop—fucking you right through your orgasm, feeling your walls spasming around his cock, how your legs drew him in closer. Stuttered words of encouragement flooded from his mouth, but most were swallowed up and lost amongst his needy moans and grunts. His pace became erratic, shoving you back hard as one hand braced the wall and the other clawed into your hip. You yelped and shuddered, all of the stimulation crashing down on you at that moment as your pussy twitched, weeping for Luke. 
“Hah-ah, fffuucckk,” Luke whimpered into your ear, hips stuttering for half a second. "'m g'na mmmm...ahh--" He dropped his facade entirely, no longer trying to hide how his voice went 3 octaves whenever he came, eyebrows pinched together to stop himself from just melting away into the floor. The heat of him coated your walls, struggling to fit inside of you with him still taking up most of the tight space. His lips trembled as he tried his best to regain some composure, rutting his hips into you deeply once more--just to feel all of you. You whined in return, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he continued to pump into you slowly.
“Look so fucking pretty right now,” he whispered, slowing his hips to a halt after a long, torturous minute. His lips found yours, muffling your groan as he pulled out of you—the sudden emptiness was always a disappointment. You would keep him inside you all the time if it was up to you. To make matters worse, he freed himself of your iron grip, pulling away from your lips with a heavy panting shaking his chest.
It was like seeing a goddess' true form for the first time--the way your soft tummy rose and fell with each of your breaths, your lips parted and covered in drool and saliva, knees bent, toes curled as you posed there; your abused, cum-filled pretty little pussy spread open like the forbidden fruit that Tantalus could only dream of tasting. You looked like a fucking masterpiece. 
Silent, Luke sank to his knees, lost in the sight of you for only a second before hooking his arms around your thighs--dragging your ass to the end of the vanity. His flat tongue ran from bottom to top, collecting your mixed releases with a certain gentleness. You whimpered as his tongue pressed and swirled around your clit, the sensations of your last orgasm still not fully settled yet. "You are such a good girl," Luke murmured between licks. "You are so pretty, you look so fucking cute, you're adorable." 
His dark eyes looked up to meet yours, locking in as he suckled and lapped at your core. With hesitation, you reached out a hand gingerly, finding a tuft of curls to reside in--earning a purr of approval from your boyfriend. 
"I'm so proud of you," he whispered, suddenly pulling his mouth off of you so he could press a gentle kiss to the junction of your thigh and pelvis. His eyes glanced up to peer at you--seeing your gentle smile made his heart flutter and grow three sizes. A soft trail of kisses made its way to your knee, his arms still supporting you, his nose nuzzling against the soft and damp skin. "You did so good today, I'm so fucking proud of you, baby."
"I know, Luke, I know. I'm proud of you too."
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ao3commentoftheday · 7 months
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I've always found it hard to find the right words for comments, but I used to try and put down something on all the fics I liked but after seeing what some of my writer friends, who are fairy popular in their fandoms, say privately in the groupchat about some of the comments they get, I can't bring myself to leave any comments at all any more.
I know it's a form or unloading where they can salt without hurting anyone and I generally think that's a good thing, saltmates are needed so you can talk about all the crappy annoying things in fandom in a private space and not spread shit on tumblr or ao3 etc.
But It's so so disheartening to me as a comment shy reader because it's never good enough. If it's just emoji hearts or someone saying "second kudos" it's too short and worthless. If it's epicly long well-written, funny, sweet, and clever love bombing, then it's too much and annoying.
I just don't understand, I don't write myself, I draw, badly, and I never get the kind of praise they sometimes get, but I would LOVE to have some of those things said about my work.
I love my friends a lot and I'm a firm believer in saltmates, but it makes me a little crazy and very paranoid to see the difference between what they say in private and what they actually answer to the comments in public on their fics.
I've read a lot here on tumblr about how fic writers love ALL comments etc etc and a lot of tips and tricks for people who have problems leaving comments, but I dont trust that now and I never comment anymore because I do not want a writer of a fic I love to think such things about me, even if it's just in their minds in private.
Do I have extra salty friends or is this a common thing among writers that no one wants to admits out loud?
From my experience, as a writer in fandom on and off for 20-ish years and as the mod of a comment-positive fandom ask blog, your friends are extra salty.
Have I heard people get frustrated with "I liked this!" comments? Sure. But for every one of those, I hear at least 10 people who are giddy and bouncing and just over the moon that someone liked their fic. I've never heard anyone complain about "epicly long well-written, funny, sweet, and clever love bombing." Most fic writers I know would probably pass out from happiness if they received one of those.
I don't know your friends, of course, but it sounds like someone in the group got a little toxic at some point and the rest of them went along, for whatever reason. Maybe burnout was a factor. Maybe they had a specific thing they wanted to get from their comments section that they weren't able to receive. Whatever the cause, the effect on you is bad.
I know you didn't ask for what to do about this, but I'm going to lay it out for you anyway:
stay in the group chat and feel worse and worse about every comment you've ever left on a fic
say something to your friends and ask that they have those conversations when you're not around (your choice if you include the part about it being because they make you feel bad)
leave the group chat and maybe also lose those friends
None of those options are great, but your current situation already sucks so it might be time to try something new.
I'm so so sorry that they made you feel like your comments weren't enough, anon. You don't deserve that. No one does. I hope if those authors see this ask that they pause and reflect and realize the audience they were speaking in front of.
I agree that people need a place to be salty, and I appreciate them doing it in a private space - but it wasn't private enough. ❤️
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golisopod-mutual · 2 years
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uh oh not another text post from lindsey lol anyway my dad/step mom/step sisters etc had a christmas party last night that i was invited to but i had to work so i was just gonna show up late. and i didnt have a gift for the white elephant gift exchange but they waited for me to get there before doing gifts anyway even tho they could have done them in the 2 hours before i arrived (they knew I didnt have anything to put into the exchange) and one of my sisters had an extra gift that she gave me so I could have something for the exchange so I could participate. and afterwards my sisters messaged me and were like ‘oh im glad you could come!’ and ‘i loved seeing you, I always love seeing you!!’ and it made me really happy bc I don’t see them all that often so I don’t always feel all that close w them yknow. so the fact they were patient while I was at work and waited to do the gifts til I could be there and were so happy to have me there... it made me feel very welcome and like they really genuinely cared that i was around. everyone had to leave like an hour after I arrived bc it was 10 pm by then but even tho it was only an hour I had a good time and felt very loved. it was a good reminder that ppl love me and I dont just cease to exist to them as soon as im out of their sight.
#growing up i was rly close w my youngest sister [youngest of my 3 step sisters but still older than me by a few years]#but we grew apart as we got older and she seemed to be closer w our other sisters than w me so i was left feeling kind of out of place yknow#and nowadays when im around everyone i feel kind of awkward and distant just bc we dont see each other often and im so shy and introverted#theres part of me that has always kind of felt like the odd one out yknow. im the youngest girl. my interests dont really overlap w theirs.#im the quietest of the 4 girls and the most reserved. and my 3 step sisters all have the same parents#so of the 4 girls im the odd one out just by having different parents and living in a different house growing up and stuff yknow#like ive always wondered do they see me differently than each other? do my sisters have 2 groups in their heads#group 1: real sisters and group 2: step sister [aka lindsey]#like does my youngest sister favor her 2 sisters who are blood related to her over me [her step sister]#its nice to be reminded they dont think of me differently and they want me included in family stuff and to them im just another sister yknow#thyere the only sisters i have lol to me theyre just. my sisters whom i love. so i would be very hurt if they thought of me differently#bc im a step sibling and not a directly related sibling#anyway ive been making an effort to stay in touch more often. theres a family group chat i never used to read but ive been trying#to do better. bc i know if i want my relationship w that side of my family to be better i have to put forth a little effort lol#i really do love them im just so introverted and shy and idk if i have anything to talk abt that theyd care abt yknow#my oldest sister is turning 31 this year i dont really have much in common with a 31 yr old engaged ex-military nurse#but im trying#i also have always felt like the ugly one of the group which is a major bummer and i feel like they still see me as a kid sometimes#or like they think less of me bc of my mental health struggles and the fact i still live at home and only work part time#im sure they dont but im insecure abt that stuff so im terrified ppl are judging me abt it lol
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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DCxDP: Professional Protector of Love
Danny Fenton moves to Gotham to start a second branch of Fenton Works. At least on paper, in reality, he is there to try and fulfill his obsession now that Amity Park has become too peaceful once he was officially crowned king.
His parents had been overjoyed he wanted to help the family business grow. They had been super supportive the day Danny revealed he was a halfa to them.
His dad even sat him down to apologize for all the hateful things he said about Danny through the years. His mom had been a little less vocal emotionally but she had also given him a deeply severe apology.
When they learned that Danny had been the one to save the town over and over again from invading ghosts, Jack jumped for joy that his son was a ghost hunter and a darn good one at that. They joined Team Phantom, keeping the world safe, and helped Danny hide his hero activities.
It really felt like Danny was part of the family business. It was a blast, even though they remained the town quacks for the first time Danny didn't mind. His parents knew he was a Halfa and they loved him anyway. That's all he needed.
When Clockwork came knocking when he was sixteen to explain that ghosts had chosen to follow the rules of conquest thus Danny was next in line for the throne, to be crowned at twenty, the Fenton's celebrated like Danny had been selected to the best Ivy schools. It meant a lot since realistically Danny didn't think he was getting anywhere with his grades.
His grades were terrible but Jazz helped him get his high school diploma by the skin of his teeth, and he was content with it. Once he graduated high school Danny felt adrift.
Amity Park hadn't been attacked in years due to him being announced as heir of the throne and no ghost would disrespect him by attacking his haunt. It was poor manners to attack the King. Ghost cared a lot about etiquette. Many of them existed because of etiquette.
The thing is Danny's ghost's existence depends on his obsession with Protection so when the ghost stops giving him something to protect Danny falls into his sub-obsession: love.
Sub-obsessions were like a secondary focus for ghosts. It was something that could grab their attention and even help them keep form but not as strongly as their main. It had its cons and pros like most things in life.
For one it wasn't as straightforward as the main obsessions. Protecting someone weaker in any situation was easier to physically do than trying to explain love and get it to appear in life. There are multiple versions of love, which makes things a little better, but Danny still has to depend on others for that to fuel him.
Danny likes to think of main and secondary obsessions in terms of running and jogging. Both got you to where you needed to go. One was just faster, and much more draining to do in the long run. The other took patience and tenacity but was rewarding over time.
The other notable characteristic of sub-obsessions was that they only appeared to ghosts who had an elemental core. Most had their common core- a core portraying to how a ghost came to be, either by death or being born in the Zone.
Danny was a rare few that had an ice core form around his common core. Most elemental ghosts were considered nobility in the zone and their rare appearance granted them special privileges.
One such privilege was attending high-class galas in the zone where he dined with the most important of beings. This was before he even knew he was going to be Ghost King.
It was at one of these Galas that he met Cupid- yes that Cupid- the ghost of love happily explained his Sub-Obession after his own core recognized a kinder spirit. Cupid said that if Danny could not be part of the love he could help others find the different ways love worked and that would help hold him over.
It was a challenge but Danny figured he could use the Greek words of love to help him satisfy his obsession.
He found that if he let his core guide him, the answer to any form of love issue would appear to him. Like his ghost breath activating, it was his sight of people who glow in different colors, telling him what type of love they were currently feeling.
Eros: romantic, passionate love colored red.
Philia: intimate, authentic friendship colored yellow
Storge: unconditional, familial love colored green
Philautia: compassionate self-love colored blue
 Agápe: empathetic, universal love colored white.
Danny wanted to keep his secret identity as Phantom under wraps openly told being he could see "auras" that explain what to do.
Some called him crazy like his parents, but that changed the day after Danny spotted the soft red mixed with a chipper yellow glow around Dash and Kwan. He had pulled both individually to the side to talk about it- Kwan had been less hostile than Dash on his meddling- and only after successfully making them confess and start dating did people notice.
He became known around Casper High as the go-to person whenever they needed advice in any relationship. He even helped Sam finally connect with her parents.
Danny had a gift for it- and whenever he made them feel more love of any kind the more powerful did he feel. It was the same rush as rescuing someone but darn if it didn't have a kick to it. And everyone in Amity Park starts tripping over themselves to talk to him and hear his opinion on the issue.
Sam jokingly told him to start charging people. Tucker took the joke as gospel and created him an email and an online store. He had linked Danny's store to Fenton Works- since the business license was so open-ended- and Danny Fenton, Professional Protector of Love worked under Fenton Works before they finished their junior year.
Danny adored working as a protector of love, but his main obsession needed fulfillment so Jazz suggested a move. Take his love work to the most dangerous city in the county. Protect people by night as Phantom and by day give the downdraught citizens some help in bettering their relationships.
His parents helped him pick out a store with an apartment on the top floor, Tucker as both tech support and a clerk for his small store section of Love Charms, while Sam joined up as a receptionist.
His two best friends were going to be his roommates while they studied at Gothum U for their degrees. He would pay them but until he had a solid client base it wouldn't be a lot.
Both seemed fine with the arrangement since Danny was letting them live rent-free with their own rooms.
Jazz and his parents remained in Amity Park but they swore to visit whenever they could.
It took seven months of work but the store was ready- he styled it to look like ancient Greek Cupid-inspired decore. He also had to get all the legal work out of the way and get familiar with the city before he tried to depute as Phantom.
He figured that for now he could stick to protecting humans from ghosts, vengeful spirits, and the busload of curses that cluttered Gotham. Danny would leave human crime to the Bats while he settled. He would step in if he happened upon a situation but he wouldn't go out of his way to find it.
"Danny, do you need anything for the aura reading?" Sam asks typing away at her desk computer. She took her job seriously. Tucker was typing away on his personal laptop, likely working on some homework. "The first customer is already in the consultation room."
Danny adjusted his pure white suit with small colored lines. He had it specially made to have all the colors he saw in love as his uniform. He wanted to give off the Prince vibe of his ghost status.
"I'm good!" He calls back to her, walking down the soundproof room- to give his clients the privacy they deserve- and giving his best professional smile at the boy sitting on the plush couches inside. He designed the room to look like a Greek palace and he hopes the others appreciate.
"Hello, Mr. Wayne. I hear you need professional help with protecting the various types loves in your life?"
"Tsk." Damian Wayne, in all his twelve-year-old glory, raises his chin. "I am capable of protecting them just fine. I merely... need further information on how to show my fondness is all."
Damian glowed green- which meant he needed help connecting to his family or at the very least learning how to talk to them. Danny's smile widens. "You came to the right place for that. Let's start the ready yeah?"
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yanderenightmare · 5 months
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Deku - Midoriya Izuku
TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere
gn reader
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Thinking about being childhood friends with Izuku, who’s always had a bit of a crush on you. 
You’ve always known, but you’ve never humored it. He’s your friend – anything else would just be awkward. If you had to put it in any other term, you’d say he felt more like a little brother.
You wish he’d allowed the two of you to grow apart – as normal people do.
There wasn’t really any reason for the two of you to stay friends after middle school. His quirk suddenly manifested, and he got into UA – became a pro-hero – and then the symbol of peace. And you were still… kind of just doing your thing – studying, working, struggling to pay rent – struggling to keep a date…
The two of you never had much in common anyway, and you never really knew what to talk about with him anymore – only knowing to ask him how his mother was. After all, you grew out of your otaku phase a long while ago – and otherwise, you felt out-educated in any and every conversation the two of you had with each other. You swear talking to him makes you feel like a toddler learning your first words – it’s humiliating, and you don’t understand how any of it’s remotely stimulating for him, either.
Still, he’ll text you when he has the time, asking if you’d like to meet up at a café – talk, catch up – and you, not wanting to be rude, always accept.
You’d gone wide-eyed the first time you’d met him after middle school. Jeez Louise – he’d had to have grown twice his size – jacked and scarred to no end. It only got worse over the years. Now, adults – he must be twice your size. Bigger even.
You blush now when he flirts with you. But not so much for the reasons he wants.
Honestly, it’s more uncomfortable than it’s flattering. It was Izuku, after all – Deku – no matter how little he resembled the crybaby from your childhood – he’d always be that same nerdy loser friend who’d chased after you ever since you first met.
He might have grown up, but his crush on you hadn’t.
His doe-eyed look of longing and adoration had always made you feel a little awkward – a little sorry for him. And now that he’s become a man, it’s only become even more… desperate… a little pathetic, actually…
Bedroom eyes that make you laugh nervously, pretending to brush it off as a joke but really wishing he’d just give it a rest already. Surely, as a pro-hero and public figure, he could get a date? One of the many screaming fans that pine for him everywhere he drags that awful golden cape he has on his shoulders. And if not any of them, then maybe a model. A movie star even.
Why is he so hung up on you?
The funny thing is, you’d tried vying him of his crush by telling him about hook-up after hook-up, boyfriend after boyfriend – treating him like a girlfriend you could gossip with.
But it’s almost like he takes it as a challenge – talking and helping you through your relationships, giving his input and advice – just like a real friend would… only… always implementing something… something condescending, something suggestive, something saying you ought to be with him instead – he’d never treat you like that, he’d never do you wrong, you’d be taking good care of with him.
You’d made the mistake of saying you were struggling with a class at university – just to make conversation – just to talk about something trivial. But of course, he’d seen it as an opportunity – quick to offer his help, saying he’d taken that class as an extracurricular – just for a bit of fun, he’d said, light reading material he’d done on the side of his internship.
You don’t know why it’s so hard to tell him no.
Suppose it’s the possibility of being wrong – the guilt of thinking he has impure intentions when he’s supposedly the purest person in the world.
But you should have trusted your instincts.
“Please, Izuku-” You’d immediately restored to begging. Who wouldn’t? He’s a two-meter-tall monster of a man – jacked with muscles fatter than a bear.
Your phone’s been missing since you came back from the bathroom – your lips wet with his unwanted kisses – your neck sore from having his fist wrapped around it when you tried stopping him.
You’d only managed to break free after biting – blood salty in your mouth. You nearly vomited, choking on a mix of bile and fear.
Fuck – your legs are so weak, you might just buckle from the dread alone – feeling like a bunny snagged on fox teeth.
“You used to take me when we’d play wrestle... you remember?”
The comment is pulled out of nowhere.
He stalks you, a fond look on his face as though the two of you were reminiscing good old times. As though his eyes weren’t a nocturnal green like foxfire on the fen. As though he wasn’t radiating black whip – ready to snare you.
“Think you can take me now?”
You had your hands raised apprehensively – but the hopelessness took its toll and made your entire body shake on the spot.
Your only hope was to talk him out of it. If only you could think past the fear and string a sentence together that wasn’t along the lines of “Please-”
But something about that look on his face told you he wouldn’t listen to reason anymore. Not manic, not like a person who’d finally snapped – but controlled – resolute – and playful even. Nothing like you’d ever seen. Nothing you could understand.
“What’s wrong, hm?” He smiles, head tipped in that charming way that used to make you want to pinch his cheek. Now it just makes you sick to look at – swallowing thickly as you tack another step back away from it. “I’ll go easy – so don’t worry… I know it's not exactly a fair fight anymore…”
Your better judgment failed you – fight-or-flight kicked in, and you made a break for it. 
Budging into the couch on your way, it’s a messy scramble for the door – but you manage. Feeling feverish with dread and pumped full of adrenaline, you brush the cold handle with just your fingertips before something wraps around your midriff in a snug grip – pulling you back into the living room.
You’re lifted from the ground, kicking – now screaming – flailing in the air before you’re flipped on your back against the couch.
“Don’t be like that~” He murmurs. “Always so wishy-washy~” Voice in a low purr that makes you feel like coughing up your heart – squirming beneath him and his heavy hands as they paw your thighs – manhandling you like nothing you’d ever imagine him to do.
Raking his fingers through the dough before squeezing your ass greedily – kneading his fat crotch against the thin fabric protecting your sex. 
“Complaining about all your weak-dicked boyfriends as if begging me to come fuck you myself – yet such a flighty little slut when it comes down to it.” He sneers, and blackwhip tightens some around your limbs. “Let me help you out.”
One hand tugs your underwear until it rips, whilst the other hand pulls up to grab your face – squeezing your cheeks to keep you still when forcing his kisses on you.
“After all… what are friends for?”
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