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aaimono · 10 months

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A/N: first writing post on this acc and I’m. scared. but also I’m hopeful that it’ll work out ??

*ೃ༄ how do the demon brothers love?

⤷ lucifer’s primary love languages are quality time and physical touch. seldom are his days off, so it’s unsurprising that he wants to relish in every moment spent with you, indulging you in a myriad of kisses, hugs, and warm, loving smiles. there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than with his lover. he can get pretty cling, you know?

⤷ mammon’s primary love languages are receiving/giving gifts and words of affirmation. if a trinket catches his eye and happens to remind him of you, he just has to get his hands on it. after all, nothing beats the smile on his face once he presents it to you — well, maybe there’s one thing that beats it — the subsequently soft gaze in your eyes and the way you say “I love you”.

⤷ leviathan’s primary love languages are acts of service and quality time. no time is better spent than when the two of you cuddle up together in his room for hours on end, working together to defeat a particularly difficult game level; with levi’s help, you feel as though you can take on the world. moreover, he wants you to remember that his help and guidance aren’t limited to games.

⤷ satan’s primary love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch. although he fervently denies it, sometimes his insecurities get the best of him, and the only thing that can effectively keep them at bay is you — your love, your embrace. any anger swelling within his chest dissipates at the feeling of your lips against his.

⤷ asmodeus’ primary love languages are physical touch and acts of service. his cuteness aggression goes absolutely wild at the sight of you — how could he not want to squeeze your cheeks and eat you up (in every sense of the word)? someone so cute also deserves things done for them, don’t they? asmo certainly believes so, and he always spoils and pampers you absolutely rotten.

⤷ beelzebub’s primary love languages are quality time and receiving/giving gifts. his thoughtfulness knows no bounds, and he always comes home with a tasty treat that he bought with you in mind, looking forward to sitting down with you and enjoying your snacks together. he’s managed to memorize all of your preferences, and not just when it comes to food, either!

⤷ belphegor’s primary love languages are physical touch and quality time. all day he itches to pull you into bed, nuzzling his cheeks into your chest and mumbling something about how much he missed you. you’ll indulge him, won’t you? once he’s gotten you wrapped up in his arms, you’re all his for the rest of the night.

#march writes #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #obey me x reader #obey me #obey me nightbringer

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definitelynotmarch · 1 year

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Akutagawa Ryūnosuke × Nakajima Atsushi (NSFW)

notes: all of my fanfictions are locked for the mean time. you need to be a registered user in ao3 in order to read them. please bear with me.

Ryūnosuke looked at Atsushi intently, the latter slowly unbuttoning his white shirt with shaking hands. On the back of his mind, he admired how his partner's visage reflect the moonlight coming from the window, as if every corners of his body glowed immaculately— a sight to behold, a sight that only Ryūnosuke himself can see. To him, Atsushi has always been a beauty. But what he saw next made his breathing hitch when the white fabric slipped away from Atsushi's shoulders: long whipped marks across his chest, some were on his biceps; what caught his attention were two burnt marks below his left chest. Ryūnosuke should have been relieved that Atsushi's wrist cuts didn't increase since the day he told him to stop doing 'that', but he cannot help but to wonder how the younger man is feeling all throughout until now.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #atsushi #nakajima atsushi #atsushi nakajima #bsd sskk #shin soukoku #sskk #bsd fanfic #march writes #ryuunosuke akutagawa #akutagawa ryunosuke #ryunosuke akutagawa #akutagawa ryuunosuke #bsd smut #gentle sex

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marchharesteatable · 1 year

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everyone is born with a little shimmer over their shoulder. it's their soul. the more in tune with yourself you are, the larger and more solid it becomes. people can spend years meditating and accepting ones self to have a little person sitting on their shoulder whispering in their ear over a shared joke.

a young man is our protagonist. he has short brown curls and bright blue eyes. his friends are all older and like to tease him for his baby face, but it's all in good fun. they are busy skipping school one day, running around and causing mischief to old abandoned farmhouses with twinkles on their shoulders. all farming is automated now and the abandoned and crumbling homes of families long gone are all that's left to mark the humans that once spent their life in service of the dirt. people are now expected to study higher calling since they are are capable of intergalactic travel. the closest one could come to farming now was managing the facilities that mine asteroids. large one-man ships that attach to the asteroids, with hundreds of drones scurrying about to hollow out the precious materials and filter the water.

our young man was a few years off from having to decide what to do with his life but understood that his friends did not have high prospects and felt the need to follow in their footsteps. his father had died in an accident when humanity tried to send a beacon into space. humans only got about 5 min worth of proof there was other life out there before it stopped sending info. the young man felt his father had died for nothing. his mother was the personal assistant to some big wig and made sure he was provided for but never had time to connect with her son. it hurt to spend too much time with her anyways as her soul had taken on more of his father's looks as time went on.

the gang of hulagins after getting bored of helping the houses fall apart hiked to the end of the farmland and caught a bus to the next city over. they met up with the girlfriend of one of the leaders of the pack. she had a tattoo of a rose over her right eye, a stick and poke that was already bleeding together. her soul was certainly person shaped but had yet to come into any defining features. they all wanted to go out and as our protagonist was 16, two years away from legal partying age, they told him he could wait for them at her home or head back to their city.

not wanting to take the trip alone he went back to the girlfriend's home and waited. at least that was the plan. there was a sharp sting on the left side of his neck (it is the highest taboo to touch another soul even as unformed and shimmery as his was) and he felt darkness come for him as someone grabbed him and drug him down an alleyway. he tried to struggle but it was no use.

he woke up in a stasis pod. he was on a ship that much was for sure. thoughts of slave traders entered his head. he thought they were stories of ages past, meant to scare children. he didn't know they were real. the klaxton alarm makes its way through his stasis brain and he realizes why he woke up. they were in danger and he was stuck in this pod. freaking out he tries desperately to find a way to open his pod, there is a lever by his foot he manages to kick and out he tumbles into 0 grav. others are sturing and attempting the same. there is a rush to the escape pods. our protagonist due to his small size (he was assured another growth spurt was on the way at his last physical) is able to get ahead of the crowd and grab one of the few pods remaining. just in time as while he looks into the window and sees himself leaving a freighter a missile from an out-of-sight ship explodes the freighter, and knocks out his propulsion systems.

as he tries to restart the systems he sees the ship move into place. a ship like nothing he's seen before, and it moves to take the few escape pods that we're far enough from the blast to still be able to navigate. our young man assumes this was the crew that kidnapped him. he is left floating and after the new ship leaves he is glad he was deemed as worthy as scrap.

this leaves our young man alone, drifting through space, with only his soul as company. he needn't worry about food or water yet. the escape pods recycled all water waste and sustenance pellets had fed greater a man for months at a time. after several days of tinkering and trying to remember half-taught lessons from his father and school lessons he didn't want to pay attention to, he was able to get the thrusters back online.

only once he was done did he notice his soul had become much more than a shimmer, it was forming into a human shape. you could only just see through it. for he had heard a little whisper in his ear. almost a congrats, I knew you could do it. he felt a warm pride and set coordinate to earth. the warm feeling plummeted as the time to destination appeared, 10 years and 72 days.

with nothing else to do, he sat and contemplated his life. and as he did so his soul grew. it grew when he realized his mother was dealing with her grief by overworking and came to accept she never meant to abandon him but it was an effect of a single parent trying to maintain a two-income household style of living. he would have rather she been around more but he understood her reasoning.

his soul grew when he realized his friends had accepted this little kid into their group and did their best to keep him out of their more questionable activities but still made him feel included.

his soul grew silently till it was a fully formed person. a girl with thick ginger waves, a strong hooked nose, and a laugh that sparkled in his ear.

they talk about memories past and she reminds him of details half-forgotten. this comes in handy when various repairs need happening and he curses himself for not being more interested in his studies. his soul comforts him and reminds him he avoided it because he was still processing his father's death and it was okay because she remembered parts of the lessons. they talk of what he had hoped his future would bring when he was on earth and they talked about what they hoped would await them when they got back. they would get back after all. they made up stories and songs together.

it was only once the pod was getting cramped did he note that she was bigger than the standard shoulder size. he did what he could to move the side consoles to the front of the pod so they could sit side by side. it had been close to a year with only the two of them and she was nearly as big and vibrant as a grown human.

close to 6 months later the coms static to life. he has been detected by a miner. they were going to be rescued! when the docking clamps attached he let out a sob he didn't know he was holding back and his soul patted his back reassuringly. "I knew we could do it. I never stopped believing in you."

wide eyes met his as the two stepped onto the airlock. he stumbled due to the cramped conditions not allowing full use of his legs and she caught him.

"I am so sorry, I didn't realize there were two people on board. our sensors only picked up one life sign. we can see what we can do to accommodate the two of you." says the miner. he is a strong, older man, whose eyes are kind, and his soul is a woman who looked to be taking a nap on his shoulder, using his shirt collar as a pillow. our two protagonists did not correct him.

they are taken to the medical chamber and our young man is treated for malnutrition and muscle atrophy. his soul didn't register on any of the scanners. as they were being treated by a medical bot it only made note of his condition, and kept the information to itself. patient Dr confidentiality of course.

when they are done they find their way to the control room. (it wasn't hard as the habitable part of the mining ship was nothing more than sleeping quarters, a kitchen, the medical bay, and the control room. the rest of the ship was dedicated to storing the drones and minerals.) the captain asks about their story and they tell him they were nabbed and woke up nearly outside the inner Jupiter system and their ship was attacked. they managed to escape just in time. the captain is not a slow man and notes that the young woman always stays to the right of the young man, and lets him take the lead on the story, only adding bits to the tail that were important. he doesn't mention that he's never seen a soul that large but figures it's not his place to mention it. it's impolite to interact with another's soul, but figures under the circumstance it might be better to treat it as a shy easily spooked girl. at least until he was informed otherwise by the unusual pair.

the captain let them know that based on the description of the ship it seemed like he had been the first to experience the alien race that had been the scourge of earth for the last year. it started with the mars colonies. by the time earth was able to send reinforcements the colony had been destroyed and many bodies were missing. the aliens had tried to attack earth but fortunately due to the forcefields meant to vaporize incoming asteroids and meatiors the race was held at bay. all ships were now equipped with the same tech. he apologizes about the hardship they have suffered and lets them know he has been sent out for a years rotation and he is 3 months into it. however, they are welcome to send a message to earth and let family know they are safe.

the captain makes sure to set up a message and locks out the mining controls and gives them privacy to make the message after showing them how to send it. he also lets them know it they are unlikely to get a response due to the war, but they should send the message anyways. they send a video to the young man's mother to let her know they are alright. it doesn't dawn on them till later that their mother won't know who his soul is, but hopes she will understand. upon completion, they leave the command room and find the captain doing his best to make a second bed in the medical room out of storage crates and extra sheets.

the next few days are uneventful. they often their assistance to the captain, but he assures them it's a one-man job, but if they want to be useful they can clean up around the place. The captain has enough on his plate that while the habitation deck isn't dirty, there is a layer of dust and grime in the corners.

a routine is set in place. the protagonists clean and prepare the ready meals. the first night the young man nearly cried at the rehydrated mashed potatoes and meatloaf. the captain who was a man not adept at dealing with others' discomfort had made a joke that sustenance pills will do that to you. it was met with two laughs. one wet and the other like a tinkling of wind chimes. they would clean, and when the habitation deck was close to spotless they spent their days learning about the ship and its mechanics. The young man vowed to never let himself miss out on vital information again.

the first night the two tried to sleep in separate beds. the young man in the med bed and his soul to the right on the makeshift crates. it felt wrong, being apart at his most vulnerable, especially after spending a year and a half nearly in each other's lap. they pushed the beds together and spent each night wrapped in each other's embrace.

nearly 6 months into their journey a ship like the one that started this mess tried to attack the mining vessel. true to the captains word the forcefield stopped the ship from boarding, but not from causing harm to the drones on the surface of the asteroid. the captain was able to modify the drilling torpedoes to hit the enemy's ship, they were successful in destroying their target.

The group donned suits and started on repairs, the captain impressed by the duos' knowledge of the drones and ingenuity at using scrap from the alien ship to finish repairs. the rest of the trip was more or less the same. the captain navigating the last of his assigned asteroids, our protagonist duo repairing and then continuing to modify the drones for higher yields to make up for their lost brethren.

at 9 months since getting picked up, the captain lets them know the last job has been completed and it's time to return home. there are several more scuffles with enemy ships on the return trip, but fortunately, due to the modifications minimal cargo is lost. once landed the captain lets them know this will probably be the last time they see each other as his family is on the other side of the planet and this year rotation has earned him two years off. our protagonists give him a long hug. one side is wet with tears and thankful murmurs, and the other feels as though a summer breeze has wrapped around his side. enough of that the captain chides. you'll be okay from here on out. I have full faith in the both of you.

when the airlock opens there is a figure of a woman on the other side. it's the protagonist's mother. she rushes toward the group and swoops her babies in her arms. petting both their hair, happy they are alive. the soul manages to get a small how do you know out before the mother kindly shushes her. I would know my baby and his bright soul anywhere.

#long post #march writes #my first real scifi story #original story #stories #sci fi #science fiction #science fantasy #soul bond #space travel #space truckin'#space trip #asteroid #mining #i had a dope dream and this is what came of it #there was a lot more magic in my dream #as well as death rebirth and old gods who are actully aliens #but the writing took a different turn #humans in space

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annasinthewalls · 1 year

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spring is coming. Spring IS COMING. You will stand on soft grass again, and feel the sun kiss your cheeks and shoulders. you will eat of the same berries as the animals returned from their hibernation. you will hear the air alive with your collective breathing.

#i must be reminded #it will always come again #seasonal affective depression #seasonal affective disorder #s.a.d.#writing #spilled ink #fragments #poetry #spring #march

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ratlingrun · 1 year

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#remy writes #ides of march #julius caesar

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chakiro · 1 year

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go girl dig through the trash 🗑️

#i've been playing star rail for the last like half a week send help #the writing is genuinely pretty funny who let them dig through the trash like this #ive been genuinely enjoying it tho #honkai #honkai star rail #star rail #trailblazer #stelle #peppy #march 7th #dan heng #kealy

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linkeduniverse · 1 year

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March Art

#sorry no comic in march #usd March to focus on writing and iron out the next arch for this comic #linkeduniverse #creator content #artworks

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fandom-trash-goblin · 2 months

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And at last can grant a name To a buried and a burning flame As love and its decisive pain Oh, my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

— of sunlight, and your hand in mine.

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willowser · 1 month

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HMMMMMM interesting to think about arranged marriage with prince shouto...............

i think he wouldn't know. what to expect with you. i think he'd have an idea, as in, what his father, the king, has taught him; the duties of a wife, where your importance ranks in relation to his duties. what he's not meant to discuss with you, like politics and matters at court and foreign relations. how you will speak to him. what to buy in the event that you become...unhappy. a nuisance.

("and she will," enji had muttered, briefly glancing up from the parchment on his desk to fix shouto with a look he didn't understand. "they always do.")

you don't meet until the royal wedding, when you're coming down the long aisle of the grand cathedral, dressed up in a swathe of silk and lace. a thin, gossamer veil hides you from him, but he can feel the ardor in your eyes, the intensity burning through the material. it doesn't seem real until your bare face is only a breath from his own, until he has to see the earnestness in your stare, too.

your kiss is simple and chaste, nothing spectacular, something that leaves his mind as soon as it's over. ever a todoroki, a hundred other things enter his mind, all regarding his now iron-laid obligations: it's vital he meet with advisor keigo to reiterate the plan to establish his authority among the council; general aizawa is in attendance to the wedding, and shouto has not yet received word on his opinion of the new king's ideas to modernize their armed forces; midoriya is somewhere, no doubt wanting to go over state affairs again.

truthfully, shouto doesn't spend long "celebrating". there's already too much that's required of him, hardly enough time to even scarf down a few bites of the banquet laid out before he's being chartered off into discussions on foreign relations and infrastructure development. maybe once or twice does he look back to check on you, chatting pleasantly with his mother and sister at the front of the great hall, and that's satisfying enough.

it's not until much later that he sees you again; freshly bathed and wearing something sheer and long and white, atop his bed.

or his marriage bed, he must remind himself.

enji didn't spend long going over consummation, with him or either of his brothers—natsuo, red-faced and annoyed at the very subject, always storming off, and touya had seemed well-aware of the process, at the time (back before he'd been ex-communicated). it had sounded simple: strip off your dress, get his cock out and into you, and only retreat once he was sure his seed had been spilled.

—so he's not exactly sure what to do or think or how to feel, when you're laid bare and reaching up to hold his face.

it's so startling that he sits back on his knees, to frown where he's looming over you.

you stare at him quietly, like you're expecting him to say something, and he only has a moment to wonder if this is you becoming an unhappy nuisance—what had been the answer, to solve this, anyway?—before you let out a soft laugh.

"c'mere," you tell him, sitting up, too, when he keeps his distance. "i want you to kiss me."

"i already have."

"yes," you laugh again, amusement glowing in your eyes, like the warmth off the fireplace, as you reach for the ties on his trousers. "but you're meant to do it again."

and up until then, he'd felt confident in his achievements, his executions; he'd managed a lot today, in one evening, and he had a lifetime to manage more. it was a good a start as any, he'd thought, but now—

shouto almost can't get the words out when he feels your hands ghosting up the inside of his shirt, nails tickling over his ribs. "a-am i?"

you wrap your arms around his waist in what could be a hug, scooting forward to look up at him with your chin against his chest. "yes," you smile and—it's familiar in a way, how touya would whenever he was teasing. "you're my husband, you're meant to kiss me whenever i want."

that—was not something his father had ever said, he was sure, and it was a too-rare exchange between his own parents. now that he thinks about it—and he does, then, because he's faced with the reality that he doesn't know as much as he should—he's not sure the former king and queen even sleep in the same room, much less the same bed.

much less hug and touch and even smile, the way you do now.

there's no argument he can make against it, aside from finding keigo to find his father to verify the truth to such a statement, and he's only meant to retreat from this bed on one condition.

and if this is what it takes to meet that—then shouto supposes he'll have to do it, for now. he's a brand new king, after all, and it would seem he still has much to learn.

#i just really like the idea of shouto being raised to be like #alright. meet with advisors. council meeting. get married. consummate. find general aizawa.#like it's just another stepping stone #to be married #and you are very much like oh 😊🩷 my husband 😊🩷#and he's SOOOO thrown by that #that's not how he was taught it would go LOL #and you want to hug and kiss and hold hands 🥺#if he spends too long in meetings you take the dinner from the royal dining table and march right into that room #to have dinner with your husband god damn it #LOL #and maybe he even asks his mom like 'is this right ???' and she's like #yeah 🥺🥺 it is 🥺🥺#and then he finds this weird odd unexpected happiness with you that he was never taught to expect 🥺#✿ thoughts: shouto #✿ willow writes

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nomazee · 23 days

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“This is unnecessary.”

At Blade’s snide comment, you pull sharply at the strands of his hair in your hands. He grunts in displeasure before obediently quieting down, only a little scared of you scalping him if he annoys you any further.

Perched behind him on the couch while he sits on the floor, your hands find themselves coming through his hair (long, smooth, untangled despite the fact that you’ve never seen him take a brush to it). Your efforts to part his hair with just your fingers are fruitless. His hair is thick on the top, so much so that you’re surprised his neck doesn’t constantly ache with the weight of it. Your hands pause, resting on the top of his head while you try and figure out how you’ll style it.

“Be nice,” you warn, two hands on the sides of his head tilting it from side to side, treating him as a foam mannequin on which you can project your very thorough cosmetology skills. “Your fate is quite literally in my hands. I could knock you out and shave you bald very easily.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he says earnestly, and you can’t help the way your lips twinge into a smile. “This is clearly a hassle. My hair looks fine the way it is.”

“It does,” you admit, “but wouldn’t it be nice to try something new? And at no cost to you, aside from mild scalp pain. I’m good at hair. I did Kafka’s that one time.” You fail to mention that it was only one time for good reason. Kafka said that you handle hair the same way a lobster would handle a violin—that is, with clumsy hands and a clear lack of refinement. She had to hide every pair of scissors from you in fear that you'd give Silver Wolf microbangs.

As if on cue, your fingers get caught in an unexpected snag in Blade’s hair, and you pull and tug and yank as if expecting it to untangle on its own. Blade hisses and reaches a hand back to smack you on the wrist, turning around to glare at you.

“Watch it,” he orders, gentle but firm. There’s not enough heat in his words to scare you, and his eyes are a particularly beautiful shade of copper in the dim, flickering light of this dingy lounge room. Whatever you say, beautiful, you think to yourself hysterically.

After a few half-willed apologies from you and some nudges of encouragement, Blade finally relaxes enough to turn back around and tilt his head back in your lap, letting your fingers play with his hair nonsensically. A braid, you decide, would look quite nice on him. One long one down the back. If you had ribbon, you’d use some to tie his hair, but all you have is one of Kafka’s tragically thin hair ties.

“It’s a nice color,” you comment absentmindedly, pretending that you can’t see the way Blade’s eyes have shut in contentment at your gentle prodding. “It changes in the light a little bit. It looks very blue now, but I’ve always thought it was black.” You section his hair off into three pieces, loosely laying one over the other over and over again. The aged gold ornament still hangs securely in his hair, and you don’t do anything to move it. It suits him.

“It’s natural, if that’s what you’re getting at,” he tells you, the slightest twinge of a joke in his voice. It plays at your smile and at your heart, too.

“You say that now, but you’ll be scrambling to come up with a lie when I find box dye in your bag.”

He only hums in response, reluctantly enjoying the feeling of your hands on him—they’re gentle, and you can imagine he’s not quite used to this. It’s an addictive feeling, to have him at your mercy, even with just your hands in his hair. There’s trust, unspoken, lingering warmly in the air and settling like condensation on your skin. You could very easily do a number of things that would hurt Blade—kill him, almost. You’ve only ever thought of it a few times, and those were all a very long time ago.

You don’t think of it that often anymore. All you’re paying attention to is Blade and the splitting ends of his hair and how nice he’d look with a red ribbon tied in.

“We should go shopping,” you tell him, voice close to a whisper now. You’ve secured the end of his braid already, and your handiwork is admirable. The strands are neatly crossed over each other, uniform in size with each other as they taper down into the end. “Some clips for you would be nice.” Absentmindedly, you comb through the layers of hair near his face, digging your fingers gently into the sides of his face and scratching at his scalp.

“And where exactly would we go shopping? We’re not exactly upstanding members of society in some people’s eyes.”

“Then I’ll make clips for you,” you say, a naive kind of dedication in your tone. “I used to work with metal, a little bit. I could make jewelry. Ornaments for your hair. I’ll put a ribbon in next time.”

“What makes you think there’ll be a next time?” Blade asks doubtfully, in steep contrast with the way he lets your hands roam along his scalp, and the way his head leans back into you as if he’s comfortable.

“You’re a loyal customer,” you quip, “you’d never let somebody else do your hair when you have me as a dedicated stylist.”

“I’m your only customer.”

“I know,” and in a moment of weakness—because at the end of the day that’s what you are, weak, malleable and moveable when you’re with Blade like this—you lean down just a little bit, pressing a stupid clumsy kiss on the crown of his head. Your fingers trail down to trace the bumps of the braid, the divots and grooves in it, made by your hands, and yours alone. “That just means I can put all my effort towards you alone.”

“You shouldn’t.” And he means it when he says that, and it hurts you, puts a sickly pang in your chest that you want to reach for and tear out before it grows into something worse.

“But I will,” you tell him. Blade is stubborn, but not stubborn enough to keep it up. Not now, not here, not when the overhead lights are flickering and making his hair look just a little bluer, illuminating the warmer ends of his hair, glinting off the metal ornament still clipped into it. He rests between your hands, still sitting on the cold floor, pretending that he isn’t falling asleep with you like the fool he secretly is.

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

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