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GRANBLUE FANTASY
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misasimagines · 2 years
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asking the gbf eternals “would you still love me if I were a worm”
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included characters: Song/Tweyen, Quatre/Feower, Seox, Siete/Seofon, Nio/Niyon, Tien/Esser rating: sfw warnings: I talk about worms here actually
okay this is the last worm related post for now Song:
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Quatre:
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Seox: his brain is this small to compensate for how big his di
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Siete:
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Nio:
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Tien:
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queen-of-hoshido · 2 years
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The amount of bad content for GBF on Tumblr is so poor. I needed to do something about it.
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doki-doki-imagines · 6 months
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tw: smut, afab reader
author note: first post for gbf and it's smut, I'm sorry LOL. It's been a while since I last wrote something putting my mind on it so I hope you'll like it!
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Siegfried had the intention to charm you the second he put his foot into the warm sand, you are sure of it.
You know your boyfriend doesn't like to expose himself, and you learnt to appreciate it, your little gem that you only can appreciate, hidden from most eyes.
So, you were flabbergasted to see Siegfried so at ease with such skimpy pants, adherent like glue on his skin and torso completely exposed for everyone to look at, because let's admit it, everyone couldn't be indifferent to such a sight.
You are sitting near the shore far away from all the crew, the wave crushing the only sound between you two.
"You look handsome today." Your voice deeper than usual while you look straight into his honey eyes, your hands grip the sand under you.
"Thanks, it's exactly what I wanted." A soft giggle escapes Siegfried's mouth, strands of hair escape his soft ponytail, and the breeze make them fly in the air.
He looks ethereal, sitting there, head tilted back, throat exposed while some droplet of sea water run down his body.
It doesn't take that much convincing to find yourself on your knees, Siegfried belts and pants barely lowered to suck him off like your life depends on it.
And it's not like Siegfried complained.
"S-slow down." He half-moans, golden eyes squinting. His big hand grabs the back of your head, but don't push you forward; as always, he has the perfect control of his body even in problematic situations.
Anyway you don't listen to him, trying to take as much as possible of his throbbing cock, sucking and laving your tongue at the sides where veins are visible. Saliva drips down your mouth, some drop fall on his balls exactly where your fingers are massaging, making the stimulation more intense.
You look at him, beautiful, wonderful, chiseled abs twitching, nipples hards begging to be touched.
Then you get pulled off, a pop can be heard together with Siegfried heavy breaths, his dick, still throbbing hit his navel, tip red a globe of cum running down his lenght.
"C'mere"
You don't have to move much, your boyfriend doing all the work, pulling your lips towards his ones, in a messy dance of tongues and spit, your hands find his shoulders, something stable to grip on while sitting on his lap, while his gloved hand go downwards, fingers playing with the hem of your bikini bottom and then delving deeper into your hot core.
A moan escapes your mouth, doesn't mean Siegfried break the kiss, if anything his tongue explores deeper your mouth, a passionate dance he doesn't want to interrupt. With the free hand he pushes your lower back towards his body, so your tummy can grind on his erection.
Meanwhile his thick fingers keep stimulating you, the material of the glove a new sensation, different from his warmth, but not less enjoyable, your essence drips down his wrist, his rhythm doesn't budge, pistoning into you, your lips parting to moan his name make even more blood run south, his boner unbearable at this point.
A particular curl of two of his fingers makes your toe curl, the moan dulled from Siegfried's mouth and the world around you waver, and not for the overwhelming pleasure, but for your boyfriend pulling you under his body.
"N-No Sieg, I wanna be on top." You says, voice frail, hands pushing on his shoulders trying to flip him over.
"Are you sure you'd be able to take it?" He talks big for someone that look as affected as you from the situation.
"Flip over, I'm gonna show you how good I can take it."
A small chuckle escapes Siegfried's mouth, but decide to listen to you, flipping you over together with him.
Ah he looks majestic under you, his hair now free, soft ribbon lost somewhere during the previous activities, one of his hands grips tightly your hips while his gloved hands...
He's licking it, still stained by your essence, his warm tongue run from his wrist to his middle finger and when it reaches the top, he suck it off, his mouth eveloping it, savouring it. While he looks at you "Always delicious" a smirk grace his face, knowing well the effect he has on you.
A smirk that soon disappear when you line up and go down on him, your hole stretching to accomodate his girth, a breathless moan leaving both your mouths. You bounce on his lenght, hands finding support on his sweaty chest while both of his hands are now placed on your hip, one slightly lower towards your butt.
"Bunny go faster, let me see how much you want it." Penetrating honey eyes look at you, it's an order, but you aren't sure you'll be able to make it.
But it's not a problem that last for much, not when Siegfried decides to take the rein and bounce you on his cock, at his rhythm.
"For someone that wanted to top me so much-" His tips hit a spot that make you both roll your eyes, mind fogging under the intense pleasure "-your willpower lasted really little." His finger grips to tight that you're sure bruises will form soon, his shaft twitching inside you and getting...bigger?
You look better at his face, eyes closed, hair getting reddish and his canines getting more pointed each second that go by. A shiver runs down your spine, not a pleasure one, the kind you feel when battling some Primals.
His cock is getting impossibly big, literally.
"Sieg-look at me please" You lean down, your chests in touch, not a lick of air could go throught your bodies, your hands cupping his sweaty face "Stay calm Sieg, I love you-" A particular harsh thrust make your lips touch, not that you minded, both your hips busy in an animalistic rhythm that the both of you can't control.
An harsh slap on your butt make you squeak, breaking the kiss "Love you too" Your Siegfried is back, blown pupils so deep but so full of love you feel your heartbeat going into a frenzy, and from there it doesn't take much more to reach your apex, Siegfried fucking you through your orgasm before cumming too, your name falling from his lips like a prayer, head falling back, sand now everywhere in his brown locks.
You lay on his body, still trying to recover your breath from the intense love-making "Are you fine?" you ask, voice still feeble.
Siegfried's lips twitch into a small smile "I should be the one asking you that." His hands massage your thighs as he gives you a kiss on top of your head.
"What happened this time? The dragon blood never took over before."
"I-" Siegfried breath heavily, chest rising up and down under you "I prefer not to tell you."
You hum, maybe it will be something to talk about another day.
A few minutes go by, both enjoying the chilly breeze of the beach and the sound of the waves.
"So now I can say that I can take your dragon form?" A small laughter escapes your throat while Siegfried huffs out, the hand massaging you now playful slap your ass.
"I guess so."
This time, you can't contain your boisterous laughter, and Siegfried smiles, eye closing, cherishing your time together
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djeesperate · 3 months
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Worrywart
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Word count: 2135
T/W:
Event spoilers/mentions (…And You, A Sweltering Eternal Getaway)
Not so heavy(?) mentions of Gawain feeling anxiety and Bertilak being suicidal.
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He couldn’t stop crying.
For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, the turbulent sea of emotions could not stop gushing out no matter how hard he tried to piece himself back together.
The captain had a fever, that was what everyone thought. But that fever turned into Nectar melting all over the floor and the fabric of reality tearing apart all while everyone screamed to the top of their lungs for them to wake up.
This is the norm, he told himself. 
They’ve always been a lightning rod for danger… but for a fever to turn into something heinous like this? 
God, Gawain’s paranoia was building up so much, that it could fill the gaps between the island that housed Feendrache, Dalmore and Wales all the way down to Pandemonium itself.
It was the norm. It had always been this way. 
It’s just that Gawain wished it wasn’t. He just wanted them to go through the rest of their life with as little danger as possible.
He could relate to that Orologia, he supposed… but he’d never hurt the captain to that magnitude before. Nor will he ever want to.
Gawain’s poor heart couldn’t handle any more bad news about them, frankly speaking. He was fine the first few months with the Grandcypher crew but after a mishap (and fallen angel or two) here and there, the saviour of Dalmore developed a feeling he wasn’t familiar with.
Anxiety.
It ate him away, and he wasn’t aware of it at first… not until the captain collapsed with a fever and he heard nothing but suspicious whispers between the dragons and that blasted Eternal man named Siete. That’s when he realised it wasn’t a regular fever, and they were once again hurting in a place far beyond his reach to be of any assistance.
Gawain was human, with human capabilities. Sure, he was strong but he’d be joking if he equated his strength to someone like Sandalphon or Fediel… or Siete… even if that carefree annoyance was just as human as him (is he human?).
What can Gawain do? Nothing. 
In every instance when they’re in danger, he couldn’t do anything of significance no matter how hard he tried. He would start to lose sleep during the nights when they’re not back on the ship, even though the other crewmates happily talked about the recent letters and trinkets they received from them that would indicate they’re probably well.
You were a liar, he concluded; a dangerous one at that. The kind that would tell everyone around them that everything is fine before being found dead the next day, with traces of prolonged suffering kept secret.
How does one cope with being in love with someone like that?
It was painful for him to bear this fear of losing them daily, what of their suffering? What’s going on in their mind that they’ve never told him? Would they tell him? 
It hurts.
It hurts Gawain so much, he can’t get himself up from bed on some days. No one would pester him about it too, no one on the ship was particularly close to him.
So he just rots.
Rotting away in one of the storerooms, he calms his heart before he walks out to face other people. He’s slumped to the ground, leaning against the shelves as he hugs his knees and rests his head forward.
“What the hell?”
Gawain almost jumped at that voice – he wasn’t expecting anyone to enter. “Bertilak,” he tried to keep his usual composure, “What do you think you’re doing here?”
“Don’t Bertilak me, dumbass,” the brunet snapped back, “I should be asking you that. This is my sanctuary, and I ain’t sharing.” He gestures to the surroundings in the room.
“Can’t you go to your room?”
“Can’t you go to your room?”
“Tch.”
“C’mon, get out.” Bertilak clapped his hands as if talking to a dog, “Ever since I hung out with those Erune brothers, they won’t stop pestering me about rizzing up a 5-meter tall bombshell so my room’s not safe. Honestly, if I can’t stand Charlotta, what makes them think I’d want 6 of her stacked up with duct tape?”
Silence.
“Oh my godddd, Bahamut to Gawain? Sir Gawaaaainnnn? Are you in there?” The brunet knocked Gawain’s head a few times before his hands were shoved away.
“Can you just!” He raised his voice before inhaling to calm down, “… just leave me be,” 
Bertilak wasn’t sure what he walked into, but if the knight that protected his country was sitting in near fetal position, refusing to fight back? Something was definitely off. He decided to bite.
“Nah, don’t feel like it,” he simply responded, “But what’s up with you? On the ground all depressing like that.”
“Not in the mood.”
“Captain-related?”
“...”
“Aha! Pre-marital angst!” He rubbed his palms together with newfound interest, “What troubles in paradise are we havin’ today?”
Bertilak’s smirk cracked wider seeing the man beneath him sigh in defeat.
“It’s always those Eternals men,” He started, “Or those Society members, or dragons, or primals, or angels,” Gawain’s frustration started to seep out, “They’re always off with those crowds saving the Skies from extinction. I’m always left behind to wait until they’re back… Sometimes they disappear and don’t come back at all. They’re always so close to dying on me.”
“On you?” The younger male snorted.
“Shut it,” Gawain’s voice was stern, “you know what I mean,”
“Uh-huh…” Bertilak put his hand on his chin, posing as if he was trying to think about it, “Aren’t you like, special to the captain?”
“I doubt it.”
“They give you presents for every occasion. Every year. Without fail. You know how fat their wallet gotta be to pull that off?”
“They do that for everyone.”
“Rightttt, even Valentine’s Day?”
“Yes.”
“What the fuck, how come I never got anything?!” He whined at the discovery, “Hey, it’s requited though, right? You give them presents too?”
“Yes.”
“Huh, maybe that’s how to get on their good side. Y’know that one weird-haired guy that flirts a lot? The one with all the swords strapped to his pants without it falling – Big brother this, big brother that?”
“Siete.”
“Yeah, yeah, that guy. He brings them literally everywhere, man. It’s crazy. I think they went to Levin for the hot springs not that long ago. Always wanted to go th- ohhhhh…” Bertilak figured it out, wagging his finger smugly. “It’s cuz they all turned blue-haired recently right? Like they’re destined to be.”
Silence.
“...I had that,” he crouched to the ground to meet the knight’s pained eyes, “That was how it was when I was back home.”
More silence. 
That was his queue to elaborate.
Bertilak isn’t all that great with telling people how he feels but he breathed in, clearing his mind as he gathered his words.
“In Dalmore, I was so… tiny. Doesn’t matter what I did, I never played a big role where I wanted to,” his shoulders slumped, “No matter how many bones I broke from training, no matter how much I cried myself to sleep when the day ended. I wasn’t ever a part of what made Dalmore free…” His breath shook. The boy bit his lower lip to stop it from quivering the way it did, “Everything that happened… would’ve still carried out the way it did if I never existed –
– Because Dalmore was your story. Not mine… Never mine.”
Gawain’s head lifted an inch hearing his admission.
“Made me fucking angry, when I finally met you. The hero of my dreams, lookin’ down on me.” A pathetic laugh escaped his lips as he frustratingly ran his hand through his hair, “It’s exhausting, y’know? Waking up to try your hardest, only to just feel like dying at the end of it. Then being treated like some spoiled brat on top of it all. All that effort, not even acknowledged.”
“... I didn’t know,” Gawain spoke up.
“And you wouldn’t have ever known,” He snorted.
“Are you…?”
“Yeah, I still wanna kill myself every waking hour of the day but what’s new?” Bertilak nonchalantly said as he inspected his nails, looking bored out of his mind, “How I got out of that mindset was to just… leave. After your stupid potato pullin’ lesson, I thought, ‘I’m not letting him go without me’. So instead of balling my eyes out back home till I kick the bucket, I left that shithole chasing after you.”
Bertilak now staring into Gawain’s eyes, his own burning with determination, “No matter how much you shove me away, I’m squeezing myself in your business. If Dalmore wasn’t my story, then I’ll tag along this ship glued to your ass until I find my calling.” 
He softly knocked his knuckles onto Gawain’s forehead, a smirk worn on his face but it was more endearing than cocky this time, “And once I do, you’ll be part of it.”
Gawain’s eyes widened as he heard the young man’s confession, but before he could speak up, Bertilak thrust his fists further into the man’s skull.
“Augh!��
“I’m strangling you and myself if you bring this up to anyone.” Bertilak dusted his pants as he stood back up, “Orrrr maybe I’ll tell Cap'n how you’ve been feeling this entire time?”
“... Would you?”
“No,” Bertilak’s face was serious for a split second, “None of my business. Just go be by their side. If they’re leaping through different dimensions, why not follow? Who cares if you’re not familiar with the other goons around them? They probably don’t either. Travelling the skies like that… isn’t that lonely? Wouldn’t it be nice to at least have someone close by their side? Besides… you know, the red gecko and blue kid. Why’s there so many blue people? A fucking whatever-blue fantasy.”
“Besides, surely that Siete guy can’t do everything.” He huffed, “Aunty Metera said flirts like that are a temporary high. You can’t really settle down with someone like that,” He crossed his arms, “There’s not much they can confide with between lizard and Lizria either, you know. Some things you just can’t tell someone that raised you… and I’m 100% sure they hide a lot of their pain from the girl to keep her from worrying. You starting to see what I mean?”
Gawain sat there, thoughts stew in his head as he processed all that was said. Bertilak took this as a sign to lighten up the mood, “But screw all that. Aunty Korwa getting me in a dress was much more fun than dealing with my feelings. Sometimes you gotta slay to keep the sad away… or whatever Chloe says. Have you met Chloe? She did my nails once. Most mentally stable I’ve felt, to be honest,” he rambled as he took a look at his nails one more time.
“Anyway, bye. Hope your love life sorts itself out. Hope I don’t see you here again, Sho’s also pretty clingy so this place is still mine.” He turned his heels and left Gawain alone.
Kids are… something. Whatever just happened, it will take some time for Gawain to understand (what does slay mean in that context? Lizria? Why’s he acquainted with so many people already?), but one thing was certain – he didn’t feel as horrible as he was before the brat showed up.
Gawain sighed. There was truth in Bertilak’s words about their relationship with Vyrn and Lyria. The captain was always hiding, it was probably just as soul-crushing bottling it up as he has with his own feelings. Maybe it’s better to confide in each other? 
That sounds like a mess…
But the thought made Gawain smile regardless.
He kicks himself off the ground and walks out of the storage room, feeling more like himself again. It was about time they came back from Sierokarte’s errands anyway. He’ll be there to help carry the boxes.
–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
Sometime, not too long ago, word spread around the ship of Fiorito’s birthday coming soon. The girls were buzzing, hoping to make gifts that would suit their friend. A certain designer had special plans…
“What.” Bertilak deadpanned, not believing his ears.
“Please! You’re about the same body measurements as her, I can tell!” Korwa held onto his hands, pleading.
“Fuck no, are you kidding?” He swatted her hands away.
“It’s just a one-time fitting! I just need to see if the dress fits around the back.”
“I’m not wearing a dress.”
“Why not?”
“I… can’t think… of a valid excuse… Whatever, fine.” Bertilak’s head hung down, giving up his resistance, “But it better look good on me or I’ll be pissed.”
“Lucky for you, that’s my area of expertise! Come, let’s go back to my workshop.”
Bertilak learned how comfortable skirts were that day.
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seraphiism · 8 months
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𓆩 ღ 𓆪 𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐀
( i think of all that might have been / waiting here, for evermore. ) 
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chara : belial fandom : granblue fantasy quote cr : dan stevens a/n : ty for the comm :^)
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ACT ONE : IT IS A MYTH THAT ANGELS ARE BORN FROM PURITIES AND VIRTUES, AND IN THE TRUEST FORM OF A HIGHER BEING, AN ANGEL IS A BEAST, A BURDEN, A BRUTALITY : FRIGHTENING, MONSTROUS, AND IN DESPERATE DESIRE FOR A DAMNATION THEY WILL CALL LOVE.
belial is a curse in existence, created with intention but a failure in execution. how very fitting for him, a fallen angel that consumes every ounce of hatred and twists it into something so hideously and falsely beautiful. how his wings have darkened so, white muddled and stained with black. but that is not his true form, not the core of his existence, and should you ever ask to see it, he will laugh, and it will break your heart over and over again, just as much as it breaks his.
he is a feign divinity made of hypocrisy and deceptions ; in the knowing of you, he realizes that the ugly truth is that you are entirely the opposite of him – you are what an angel should be, yet you are human, and that is the vast difference that will tear you apart in the end.
“asking to see my truest self, are you?” his voice is low, taunting, yet there is a familiar affection laced beneath it. “haven’t you seen just enough of me?”
he’s always been one to hide his feelings, always been one to put on a facade, throwing another into confusion and chaos in order to carry out his true intentions. but you’ve never fallen for his tricks– not you, never you, he’s noticed, and you are far more stubborn and resilient than he expected. he simply smiles a teasing smile, but you almost wonder if you sense a melancholy resting on the curve of his lips.
“please,” you whisper, and surely it is the way you plead that sends a shiver down his spine, but he will lie, tell himself it’s the frigid air, “i want to see all of you.”
“oh, but don’t you understand why angels warn humans to not be afraid?” he asks, amusement clear in his voice. “what makes you think a fallen angel is any less frightening?”
your hand cups his cheek, tender, and he almost instinctively leans into your touch.
“i won’t be afraid, belial.”
he hums, content, takes your hand and presses a kiss against your wrist. your pulse quickens, and he cannot help but smile at the realization.
foolish being, he thinks, but at the end of it all, he does not know who he refers to.
( it is a very cruel thing, this version of love he is falling into : the innocence of need, the slow decay of fantasy in this swan song between beauty and beast. )
ACT TWO : IT IS A MYTH THAT BEAUTY IS BORN FROM VANITY AND EGOTISMS, AND IN THE TRUEST FORM OF SELF, THE BEAUTY IS THE HEART, A KINDNESS, A BENEVOLENCE : SELFLESS, MERCIFUL, AND IN DESPERATE DESIRE FOR A DELICACY THEY WILL CALL LOVE.
but love is a CURSE, and it is not something that belongs in the bloodied hands of the fiend. it is something he has sought after since the beginning of genesis, and in the failed creation’s mind, love has always been a distortion : maddening, mindless, but befitting for a beast. it was all he knew, all he felt, all he thought he deserved. but what he shares with you – it is so vastly different in its purest form : an acceptance, a relentless longing, the knowing that it will end in remorse and resignation, and the knowing that goodbye will be the right choice at the end of the line.
to have something this kind, to know it in the most cherished of ways – it is slipping through his fingers, slowly slowly slowly, and he knows it, yet he does not try to save it. it is not meant for the saving, this connection between souls, because the beast is a curse, woven with thorns, and the beauty is a blessing, a rose meant to bloom, not wither.
yes, belial thinks, you are his blessing. he almost laughs at the sentiment, bittersweet, decayed. it is only then that he, an angel with a venomous tongue, is allowed to speak such a virtuous word. maybe it is because of the way you sleep soundly in his arms, trusting enough to fall into a deep slumber in the presence of the devil in disguise, or maybe it is because of the rare peace that he hardly subjects himself to– how it sinks into the crevices of a broken being, restores them with gold, granting silent and temporary permission to something never meant to be.
maybe it is because of the warmth that settles in the little distance between your bodies, the feeling of your heartbeat a fascination due to the absence of his. belial has a still heart, frozen in experimentation gone wrong, yet there is something else that flourishes inside his chest, and it is so beautiful and terrifying all the same.
it is very much love that is a mass of contradictions, and he feels it in the way you place your heart in his hands, the aching of his claws itching for release. you know of this, you do, but you know he would never destroy what remains of your humanity.
you are meant for something good, something better. he is everything you should not have, and you are everything he wants to have.
you are not meant to be. he knows this, and so he decides this fairytale must come to an end, just as all stories do. it will not have a happy ending, but none of them do, do they? he smiles, a quiet, foreign sorrow somewhere in the depths of defeat.
he moves swiftly, carefully, as to not wake you. he watches your sleeping figure, feels this strange sharpness in his heart. he is not used to this kind of pain; there is no joy or thrill to be found in it, only a lingering grief he cannot understand. he tears his gaze away, turns to leave.
it is time for the curtain call.
“you’re leaving, aren’t you?”
he should have known you were pretending.
he doesn’t move, doesn’t turn around. you don’t expect him to, and maybe it’s better that way. your voice is heavy with exhaustion, but not surprise, and maybe you both have known that this is how it would end. he doesn’t speak, but you can almost imagine that idiotic, coy smile he puts on for show.
instead, he smiles a sad smile.
“better this way, hm?” he hardly looks over his shoulder, but he can feel your gaze nonetheless. “it was fun while it lasted.”
he is going to leave you, let you go, knowing you will seek happiness elsewhere. he has always been so sickeningly selfish, but for you, he will not be.
you will not convince him to stay, not now. but this is your story, too. you will control how it ends.
perhaps in another life, he muses, should there be one after this, you will coexist in a world where you are meant to be happy together. but not in this life. not in this world.
he leaves, and somewhere, a rose petal falls, slowly slowly slowly.
( yes, this fairy tale ends in remorse and resignation. yes, an angel reminds himself, goodbye is the right choice. )
ACT THREE : IT IS A MYTH THAT BEASTS ARE BORN FROM EVILS AND DEPRAVITIES, AND IN THE TRUEST FORM OF AN AVATAR, A BEAST IS A VULNERABILITY, A LONELINESS, AN ACHING : LOVELORN, HYPOCRITICAL, AND IN DESPERATE DESIRE FOR A DOOM THEY WILL CALL LOVE.
you occupy his thoughts more than you should, and even though you are apart, he still watches over you. from the skies, he ensures your safety, a bittersweet relief washing over him when he sees that you are healing from the hurt. he wonders if he is healing, too. he wonders if he made the right decision.
it is safer, better this way. a fallen angel has no place in the heart of a human. it doesn’t matter what he desires, what he wants.
he smiles, wonders what it would still be like, having you at his side. he does not dare admit he misses you– there’s no need to solidify the pain, acknowledge its unwanted presence.
love is a very cruel and tragic being, isn’t it?
something inside slowly unravels– it is not wrath that unleashes his true form, but perhaps it is a silent cry of mourning, this shift in appearance : the presence of thorns, so violently red, the markings that adorn his body, the black sclera. there is no need for it, but he does not choose to suppress it. he hums in forced amusement, closes his eyes. he wonders if you truly would have been fearless of him in this state. what a shame it is that he will never know.
time passes. he feels something strange in his chest– an unknown sensation, a jolt, and he wonders if that is the sensation of a beating heart. he opens his eyes to the familiar blue skies.
“you’re persistent. you’ve found me, after all.”
you stand behind him, and he can practically feel your sorrow, your frustration, that slight anger. when he turns around, he sees it all. from the moment he left, you knew you would find him, but the path to reunion has not been an easy one. you freeze, and he forces a grin.
“how is it? my truest form? does it frighten you?”
you don’t speak for a long while. it doesn’t, no. not at all. you have always found belial beautiful, and you still do. but there’s this dying grief that overwhelms you, the same grief you have carried in all the time you have been separated. it tastes bitter on your tongue, renders you speechless.
you’ve been waiting for this moment, and now that it’s here, you just–
you swallow hard. love is not meant to be cruel, nor tragic. one step forward, then another. his expression is unreadable, carefully crafted. it’s no longer that mischievous facade nor is it dejection. you’ve always been one to see through his games though, and somewhere in the deep red, there’s this excruciating loneliness that you also feel.
“you couldn’t love someone like me, right?” he laughs. “a fallen angel with the appearance of a demon.”
but you don’t falter. you don’t buy it.
“enough, belial.” your voice wavers, the words heavy on your tongue. how they almost threaten to choke you, and you wonder what will take you first : the tides of longing or the courage that dies in words unspoken. “why do you think i’ve spent all this time searching for you?”
your fingers trace over his markings, the ghost of your touch leaving a burning sensation in their wake. you’re trembling, he notices, and he feels it in the way you cup his face in your hands, gentle. you look at him, and he almost wonders if he is imagining the reverence and ardor in your gaze.
“you left because you thought it was better that way, right? because you thought i could find someone better, someone worthy.” you murmur, and now it is his hands that shake this time. “because you think you’re not worthy of anything good, because everything you know is painful, so you think you’re better off subjecting yourself to the pain because it’s all you know.” and there is this quiet smile that blossoms on your lips, and it grows the slightest bit when you see that quiet uncertainty in crimson hues. “you can love, belial. you can be loved.”
your thumb grazes over the markings once more, and he feels that frightening sensation in his heart again– a dull thud, slow– but then it picks up in its pacing, beats and beats and beats, and surely you must hear it too, the way it pounds so violently.
“there’s no one better, belial. it’s you that i want. it’s always been you.”
you take his hand, press a kiss against the inside of his wrist, and he almost laughs at the familiarity of it all. you’ve always had him wrapped around your finger.
“you’ve always been a stubborn one, haven’t you?” his lips meet yours, and he feels the way you smile into the kiss. “be careful you don’t regret this.”
you laugh, squeeze his hand.
“i won’t, belial.”
( yes, this fairy tale beloved ends with reunion and revelations. yes, belial reminds himself, your fingers laced with his, you are his blessing, his happy ending. )
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🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞
“Come now, Singularity--I’m just making sure that you’re fully coated~”
Ruby red irises glinted mischievously, a pink tongue darted over smirking lips, long, slick fingers tightened their hold.
Belial was certainly enjoying his day out on the beaches of Auguste.
While other tourists were delighting themselves to seafood buffet feasts and basking in the picturesque scenery of pristine white sand and crystal blue water, he was finding much pleasure in some afternoon fishing from the comforts of a seaside bungalow.
And what a splendid catch that was now in his possession!
Squirming and writhing, swimsuit in a tattered disarray, skin sleek from a haphazard smear of suntan oil, you were left and reduced to a helpless sprawl upon the wooden deck of your bungalow suite. The platform--with the purpose of allowing easy access in and out of the ocean for a swim--now served to be an open showcase of Belial pummeling his cock into your core from behind for next door guests and the like.
His palms were still slippery with the pour of your suntan oil bottle from earlier, his fingers groping your breasts, toying with your nipples, with one even plunging into your ass in tandem with the vigorous pace of his thrusts.
Your nails clawing at the wooden floor in pleasure, the gorgeously obscene view of your backside as he watched his thick cock push into your drooling core, all while you looked back at him with such a flustered, pleading expression--his hunger, his thirst for more could not be any more aroused.
Calling out your name, he relinquished his hold on your breast to instead seize your chin as he bent further down, closing any distance between your face and his.
Before he went forward to claim your lips for a kiss, he gazed straight into your eyes as he grinned wickedly, his voice dropping to a low purr as he spoke,
“After all, if the sun gets to kiss your skin today, isn’t it only fair that I get to kiss you all I want~? ♡“
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gojoidyll · 3 months
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tsundere bf!lucilius x female!reader
Whereas someone finally sees Lucilius be soft when his overly kind lover (that's you <3) isn't around.
Notes | reader/yn is referred to with she/her pronouns, and as girlfriend, lover, etc.
"You're annoying, go away."
"Stop following me."
"You're kindness is wasted on me."
"Must you be so clingy?"
"Ugly little thing."
"Shut up."
"Stop touching me."
Many (many) people wondered how such a nice and cute person like you could ever be with Lucilius, a head researcher who was both impassive and quite rude at time.
The day you announced that you were both dating was quite the surprise, especially for Lucifer and Sandalphon, who both watched your "love" unfold from the beginning.
Many tried to persuade to breakup with the brute since all he did was shoo you away and/or call you names and act mean whenever you were around.
But surprisingly, you never listened and stayed by his side.
*click*
*scribble*scribble*scribble*
You were just leaving the research lab when Lucilius quickly drew a picture of you as you left. His mind still racing with the clear image of your smiling face when you presented the idea of him walking you home.
(You both were researchers at the same lab, but worked in different sections, though you two did get off from work at the same time.)
"Drawing her again?"
Belial had manifested write next to the astral who was quick to send a glare towards the fallen angel.
"Who said you could look upon her beauty?"
Belial left it at that. Who knew the head researcher could be so stingy when it came to other people looking at you?
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fategranddisorder · 2 years
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Summer (Shiva)
Warnings: -
Tags: Bathing, hotspring, massage
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"You know, when you said you needed help, I didn’t think it would be with taking a bath."
Shiva hardly seems ruffled at your statement, only giving you a small smile. You had quickly removed your boots before taking a seat at the edge of the spring, your bare legs dangling in the warm water.
Shiva feels Nagaraja shift, a soft hiss coming from the snake. Like the serpent knows the watchful and observing gaze transformed into admiration.
"You are the only one in trust with my back adherent."
You feel hot and it is not because of the warm water. That warm burning feeling from your neck, creeping up to your cheeks. Definitely not the water.
It couldn't mean anything, you are a mortal, your life hardly a mark on his immortal life. Yet as a strong hand rests on your thigh, moving your limbs to accommodate his large body, you are inclined to believe otherwise.
Shiva sits on the rocks that are conveniently placed where you are sitting. His lower half rests underneath the water, allowing the god to rest between your thighs, his strong back facing you.
You take in a deep breath and breathe out. Trying, and barely managing, to steel your nerves. Honestly it was easier when Shiva asked you to fight him to prove your worth.
Shiva sighs and leans back as your nimble fingers thread in his hair. You carefully move the slick strands away from his back, you are still amazed how much warmer the god before you is as your skin finally makes contact with his.
As your hands touch and kneed the muscles underneath his skin, the god wonders if humans also did this if their bonds extended beyond friendship. If you shared such a moment with someone else.
"You know, the next time, you are washing my back"
You mutter and Shiva chuckles. He could manage that small request the next time he and you would take a bath together.
The both you stay in that beautiful grove for the remainder of the day. Hidden away in the depths of forest, the season of sun and warmth on the horizon. Like a little piece of paradise 
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cinnbar-bun · 2 months
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Hi! I really love your work so far But I wanna go back on some good olides of yours! So....
Matchups! For the GBF fandom, I'm a quiet but chaotic and anxious Bi non-binary, who likes to spin stories and write them, and I like to draw! I prefer to listen to others talk about their interests and likes over doing it myself, but at times I like to over talk about my own Interests ( especially about the stories I write) and though I really want to entertain & make others happy with my stories, I'm self-conscious about attracting attention. I wouldn't mind if we just hung out at home and relaxed, but I wouldn't mind going wherever they wanted, just happy to be spend time with my S/O! I got a thing for guys with Long hair and Girls with a sadistic charm tbh. Thank you so much for your time! And it's okay if you can't answer this ^^
I don't really write for GBF anymore (and I know, that's probably turning my back on the people who originally liked me for them since I started this blog just for that game) but I am touched you still liked my old work. So, I'll do this and give you (hopefully) someone you like!
And I choose (drumroll)... METEON!!!
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He is fascinated by your stories and creations. Every new one you show him or speak about always has his interest and attention. You're crazy special to him. He doesn't mind that you don't like attention, but he hopes you can forgive him if he accidentally does attract some. Meteon just focuses on you mostly, so it's never too big of an issue. He's always happy to explore different places or take you to his races so you can cheer him on. It definitely makes his heart swell with pride knowing you're there for him. He hopes to be your number one, always!
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captainmullin · 1 year
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Can you do a reader x Katalina relationship Headcanons there's not enough apperaction for the best mom of crew.
Absolutely I can! Slowly but surely working my way through requests :3c
Katalina/Male!Reader + Relationship Headcanons
Katalina, for the most part, isn’t particularly worried about romance or a relationship. She’s been taking care of Lyria for so long, it feels almost as though she’s given up the chance to peruse something like that - until you decide to walk into her life. Quite literally.
It happened while the Grandcypher crew was taking a pit stop on a remote island, just looking for a place to stay the next few days before moving on to continue their missions. The crew had stopped in your inn, ordering food and waiting for their rooms. You had bumped into Katalina by completely on accident, just trying to serve the next table over.
It was almost like magic, Katalina grabbing your waist right before the food spilled all over the floor. Her hands were strong, warmth flooding to your face and chest, wondering if she even noticed how close the two of you were. After that little incident, you got to know the rest of the crew better throughout the time they were on the island.
When the day came to leave, you took Katalina’s hand to leave without hesitation. You proved to be a valuable asset on the ship as well, doing odd and end tasks to help the crew out. You and Katalina grew steadily ever closer, to the point where one day you grew antsy if she was gone for too long.
The night you confessed your feelings to her was one of relief. Katalina felt the same way! She smiled at you and you smiled back, your hands clasped together with hers. Your hands were calloused from the work you’ve done, but hers were too - both fighters and yet, both incredibly passionate and devoted.
Restaurants! After you two officially got together, you both liked to frequent small or quiet restaurants and cafes, taking in the energy and sights wherever you went. Regardless of dates, business, or just plain fun, you both enjoyed each others company just the same.
Katalina also insisted on sparring with you - considering you were a bit taller than her, she wanted to practice different techniques based on height and ability. Despite it being practice, Katalina always managed to make sure you were safe in the end.
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astarriscus · 2 years
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when you're feeling down, sandalphon isn't completely sure what to do and how to handle this. he truly cares for you from the bottom of his heart, but these feelings of love and affection are still quite the enigma to him (though he knows for sure that he loves you). his movements are gentle yet rather unsure as he wraps his arms around you, and lets you cry into his neck. it doesn't bother him at all how your tears fall onto his skin and clothing, or how he's still not very used to such intimacy—all he cares for right now is you in his arms, as he hopes that he can at least provide even the slightest comfort for you. after all, it's what you deserve (and that would be all the love and care in the world, which he'll try his best to give it to you, because he loves you so much).
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misasimagines · 2 years
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texting the granblue eternals “I want a baby”
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included characters: Song/Tweyen, Seox, Siete/Seofon rating: sfw warnings: pregnancy mentions, implied she/her pronouns for reader
**This is the first in a set queued for today. Genshin characters will be later, then JJK even later. I’m trying not to bombard anyone with a ton of posts all at once which is why they’re queued and staggered ! also forgive my silly little photo editing skills in some of these upcoming images,,
Song:
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Seox:
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Siete:
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this might be Too Niche but if you’re a gbf player tell me who your first eternal was/is going to be!! I got Tien first but Seox is my fave and he and Song are the only ones at 5* so far!! Siete is next when I stop being a seasonal player,,,
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queen-of-hoshido · 2 years
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Beelzebub: It's pretty cold outside... let's hold hands. We should stay close.
Y/n, blushing: Okay.
Lucilius: It's fucking summer.
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djeesperate · 15 days
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Unfair
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Word count: 777
T/W: None
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Gawain knows himself more than anyone else.
Because to him, the situation right now is very unfair.
“Captain, could it be… are you slacking off on training? Your hands are becoming soft,” a very ear-grating voice entered his ear, “This can’t go on. I suggest we both spar the whole week, the two of us!”
“Ehhh no way! I promised Florence that I’d come visit Dalmore. See, even Gawain’s here”
The knight watches as the… annoyance looks behind his shoulders where the slightly awkward captain pointed, the swordsman clearly pretending he didn’t notice his presence. “Oh, when did you get here?”
Gawain’s right eye twitched slightly, something that has been happening a little too often lately.
“He’s been here the entire time, stinky,” the captain lightly smacked the back of Siete’s head, “you’re the one that suddenly barged into the room and grabbed my hand.”
“Ouchie~ Silly me! I forgot to let go.” He chuckled before the room fell into silence.
“So… are you going to?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah yeah. So what about our spar session? We can do it in Dalmore, you know.” Siete changed the topic, hand still holding theirs.
“Out of the question.” Gawain shot down the proposal, a scowl on his face.
“Eh~” Siete pouts.
This man with powers he can extract from the boundary; he’s a sharp one… right? Surely. So why does he play dumb in these situations?! He must think it’s funny to cut between Gawain and the captain like this.
Gawain blinked and immediately inched back, caught off guard by the other blond man who shoved his face right in front of the knight, inspecting his expression.
“Please go away,” Gawain hissed, voice very low.
Finding this situation amusing, Siete smirked. “And if I don’t?”
A loud shriek came from behind the three, making their heads turn to the door in alarm. There stood Bertilak with Lunalu in tow. “Uh… it’s okay, Aunty Lu, you can sit outside for a bit.” the redhead awkwardly nudges her away before closing the door, leaving her alone.
“Is Lunalu okay?” the captain spoke up.
“Maybe? I think she’s scared of guys. She screamed when I was hanging out with Shu too,” He wasn’t really sure himself, to be honest.
“I suppose that’s one way of interpreting it…” Siete raised a brow, “You’re also from Dalmore, yeah? At least from what I can recall. I take it you’re coming along on our trip?”
Bertilak’s face scrunched up at the idea, “Our trip? What do I look like, their son?” He was offended at the mere implication. “I’m only here to remind dingus and his lover here to pick me up by noon and drop me off near the bakery. Uncle Glane’s gonna take me once the ship lands and I do not want to stick with him the whole day.”
“You should show more respect to your uncle. He’s done a lot for you,” Gawain scolds.
“A lotta yappin’ is what.” The boy sighs, opening the door again to reveal Lunalu hunched over the floor scribbling on paper, “12 o’clock, you got that, guys? See y- oh my god, what are you drawing!!”
Bertilak nearly trips walking out the door, utterly shocked at the scandalous art the Harvin was so focused on that she had blocked out their voices. Siete simply laughed as he exited the room to behold the spectacle himself.
“Ahaha! I’m more surprised you never knew she was this way!”
“S-shut up! Fuck, I can’t look at Gawain anymore for the rest of my life.”
“Oh, speaking of Gawain… Hm?” Siete turned back to see the room empty, jaws dropping in disbelief. “They're gone?!”
“They snuck out while you weren’t looking.” Lunalu finally looked up to acknowledge their presence, “Besides the inspiring scene you guys made for me, it’s probably for the best they left you behind.”
“Eh?! Why’s that?!”
“You know what you were doing.” She picked up her pen and paper, preparing to leave.
“Yeah, homewrecker.” Bertilak narrows his eyes.
“Homewrecker?!”
He had to endure the glares while he dragged himself back to his room sulking, nearly tipping over from the force of the ship landing. They had arrived at Dalmore. He slumped himself on the wall, picked up a random sword and unenthusiastically inspected it.
Hearing voices coming from outside, he peeked his head through his window and saw the couple, giggling and smiling at each other like morons while they left the ship to explore the small kingdom. 
He sighed, tossing the sword aside before flopping onto his bed.
Siete knows himself more than anyone else.
Because to him, the situation right now… is very unfair.
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seraphiism · 1 year
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congrats on 1k!!! your writing is so gorgeous and I think about your fics so much ;o; 💕💕 im slipping in a request for the dreamscape event: dusk (or twilight!! whatever you feel fits best honestly), ☀️ belial, orchid 💓
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𓆩 ღ 𓆪 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞
( I WONDERED HOW ANYONE FINDS CLOSENESS WHEN VIOLENCE IS SO NEAR TO IT )
chara : belial fandom : granblue fantasy quote cr : jeanette wintersonm a/n : omg thank u sm !!! you are so kind, that means a lot to me !!! thank u for ur support :^)
・❥・[ dreamscape event ] ༊*·˚ ⌛ fluff/angst • ☀️belial • 💐 orchid : reverence
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ONE. fallen angels must yearn for redemption, don't they? their fates left to doom and damnation, wings dyed in hideous colors and impurities. but what happens when you are birthed from ruin & evils, feeding upon the existence of another, your life meant for the chasm? IT IS A VERY SAD THING, you think, TO MEET A DOWNFALL YOU CANNOT SAVE YOURSELF FROM.
& what a curse this one holds, the wicked belial, both angel and devil in a creature gone wrong.
you will find yourself in his arms one day, remember how they warned you of his unholiness ; how it would corrupt you, turn you into something you weren't. you press your head against his chest, breathe deep, listen closely :
you hear something gentle bloom and wither with love, tell him that his heart sounds beautiful. he will laugh, the fallen angel, and you will hear the self-hatred in the echoes of a false haven.
TWO. LOVE IS : twisted devotion that festers into obsession ; yearning that melds into sharp pains and agony. the severing of the heart / the disconnect between CREATOR and CREATION.
and it's supposed to hurt. it is. it is. it is, because they once told him that the things most painful are always worth it.
THIS PAIN MUST BE WORTH IT, belial will remind himself, so he'll call it love, this hatred and scorn he only knows from higher beings, because it's better to make something out of nothing.
THREE. "you are so desperate to be loved."
you feel him tremble as your fingers ghost over his wings ; how gracious they are in the way they bleed sanguine, stain porcelain with remnants of what could be good & holy.
something foreign and unspoken crosses his features : apprehension, fear -- you cannot tell. something so wonderfully unnatural, something exasperatingly innocent, something that tells you that you are right. but it fades, twists itself into guarded amusement. he chuckles lowly at such false assumptions, ignores this strange feeling of grief that buries itself in his chest.
"i've always liked the pain." he says, words light and heavy all the same as his fingers intertwine with yours. "you must have forgotten that i am already loved, hm?"
and love is not violence and violence is not love, but the teachings of angels are a vicious thing to unlearn. the admittance of defeat takes hold of you, so you cast your gaze elsewhere, instinctively avoid his eyes when he leans down to look at you. how delicate he is in the way he grabs your chin, forces you to recognize this moment as something you both will bury in dreadful hearts.
your eyes are filled with something he has never known. there is something warm about it, something so lonely and mourning for what has yet not been lost.
you swallow hard, clench your jaw, watch as his mischievous smile falters.
"yes, you are loved, belial."
FOUR. LOVE IS : lingering touches that leave fervor in their wake ; yearning that melds itself into nostalgia and quiet reverie. the understanding of two hearts that have never known better / the connect between SOUL and SOUL.
this does not hurt. it is not supposed to, it never is, you'll tell belial, and he will not believe you at first. surely this is a jest, a deception that will end with brutality. but the peace is endless, and perhaps this is the most confusing of all.
so he'll call this love, the way his name leaves your lips, and it will frighten him so.
FIVE. they warned you of unholy beings, their existence a threat to your own. they told you tales of fallen angels, sins a chaos and the bringing of a deserved downfall. how wrong the stories can be, you muse.
and there is something so profound in the time you share ; his head on your chest, your hands on the surface of where his wings reside. how fortunate he is to hear it, this steady beat. he shuts his eyes, breathes deep, listens closely :
he hears something blithe and innocent flourish in the roots of love, tells you that your heart is something he could cherish until the ends of time. you will laugh, and he will hear joy in the echoes of a home away from home.
he hums, presses a kiss to your skin as a smile blossoms on your lips.
"am i loved?" another brush of the lips, a devilish grin that you are all too familiar with.
you laugh once more, and it is the kindest thing he has ever heard.
"yes, you are loved, belial."
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