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mammoneyhoney · 2 months

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a lesson repaid.

summary: you want to repay gale for his little lesson on the weave by giving him a lesson of your own. or, reader teaches gale how to use their greataxe. (gn!reader x gale dekarios)

tags: pre-relationship (but obvious feelings), reader uses two-handed weapons, takes place somewhere between act 1 - the end of act 2 (no spoilers though), just fluff, 2.3k words.

"You doing anything right now?"

The dancing lights illuminating the page of his textbook flicker when he hears your voice, a momentary lapse in his concentration.

"Well, I was reading a rather interesting textbook on... ah, well I suppose that doesn't matter." Gale quickly marks his page, then sets the book aside. "I am free if you need me. Though, that mischievous look in your eye tells me that you have plans, however. Do tell."

You grin. "I do, I thought I might repay you for your little magic lesson the other day." You cock your head to the side, thumbing the haft of your axe. "What do you say I teach you how to use my weapon of choice?"

"You... want me to try and use your greataxe?" Gale huffs, incredulous. Surely you saw that his physique was much less impressive than your own; than most everyone else's in camp, for that matter. "Surely you jest. I don't need any man-made weapon when I have the Weave at my disposal. Besides, I would rather not throw my back out, a wizard is of little use if he can't stay upright to cast his spells."

"We don't have to do anything strenuous." You say, eyes hopeful. "Just a few basic motions, I promise I'll go easy on you."

Had you been anyone else, he would've turned you down quickly. He's made a fool of himself enough for one lifetime, and he knew any display of athleticism was guaranteed to do just that. But he can't find it in him to disappoint you by saying no.

Besides, it's hard enough to get you alone with so many others in camp clamoring for your attention. This was as good a chance as any.

"...Very well." He says, smiling sheepishly. "I suppose it's only fair that I submit to your tutelage after you did so well under mine. Lead on, my dear."

He listens to you talk excitedly as you make the short walk from his tent to yours. It never failed to amuse him just how different your living spaces were. Gale's tent was a disorganized mess, full of potion bottles and books with hastily written notes sticking out of the pages, warm with burning incense and candles melted down to stubs. Not to mention the sheer amount of downy pillows piled on his bed; no doubt Tara would scold him for the shape his tent was in now.

Yours was much more practical: weapons neatly organized in a rack, a training dummy for practicing your swings, a few stools in case of company, and blankets arranged into something of a bed for Scratch and the Owlbear cub. A home for more than just yourself.

Gale notices the other weapons in their holder were shiny, pristine. He had watched you polish them on many a night when he was too restless to sleep. The greataxe you hold out to him now is the one he's seen you fell countless ne'er-do-wells with; the one that's also saved his hide more times than he cares to admit. He almost wants to ask to use one of the others, like this one would reject him, somehow.

"Now, I won't lecture you about weapon types or parts, or any of that stuff." You say, shifting your weight from foot to foot. He wants to retort that he would much rather listen to you talk about that, but he holds his tongue. "None of that really matters in the thick of it. Hold out your hands, please."

Gale holds his palms out expectantly, and you drop your trusty greataxe into his hands. He catches it with little difficulty, but the unexpected heaviness catches him off balance. With how effortless you sling it around in battle, he thought it would be lighter.

Your hands come under his, steadying him with a practiced ease. "Sorry, shouldn't have dropped it on you like that." You smile, warm, reassuring. "You were such a good teacher, I have a lot to live up to."

"You certainly do." Gale can't help the prideful tone in his voice. "But I believe in you. Do go on."

"Alright, first things first, you need to get your stance right." You walk behind him, nudging the inside of his boot with your foot. "Spread your legs a little, you want to make yourself look bigger than you actually are."

"Well, I would hope you would take me to dinner first before making a request like that." He quips, widening his stance anyways. "And I hope that wasn't a jab at my... physique."

You snort. "Wasn't meant to be. I like your physique as is." You poke his side, before coming back around to his front. "You also want to drop your weight, when you stand upright like that you're less flexible." You go down into a squat position, legs apart, knees bent; Gale's nose twitches as you do. "Like this."

"Your knees must be in far better condition in mine to do that so effortlessly." He shakes his head. To hells with it, he thinks, if he can't impress you with his athletics, he can at least impress you with his tenacity. "But alright, I shall give it a go."

His knees make a popping sound as he mimics your stance, but he manages to hold the position with minimal pain. "Good. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Your praise seems to dull the ache; he feels his cheeks warm. "No, but I have no doubt I'll feel this in the morning."

You pat his shoulder, reassuring, before taking your axe back from him. Gale tries not to groan when he stands back up at full height. Gods, if ever he felt his age it was now.

"Now, let me demonstrate a basic strike." You draw your axe to your shoulder, turning to the training dummy. "Make sure to watch not only the axe but my form."

Gale watches with rapt interest the way muscles in your arm flex as you move. He did always enjoy seeing you in action. "Oh, I'm watching."

You swing the axe over your shoulder, bringing it down in an arc onto the arm of the training dummy. You stop before it sinks in. "See how I move my back foot to the front? I'm bringing my weight forward as I do so." You pull back, resting your axe back onto your shoulder once again. "Makes the hit, uh, harder."

"I see." He watches as you repeat the motion again, this time slower to make sure he understood the whole movement. "You sure do make this look easy. Almost fluid, like you're not throwing something half your size over your shoulder. It's quite impressive."

You make another strike, hitting the wooden frame of the dummy just hard enough for it to notch into the wood. Gale's mouth goes dry. "I've used this for as long as you've studied magic." You spin your axe around, giving your hands something to do. "If you think I'm impressive now, you should have seen me before the worm."

"You before the worm, and me before the Orb... and the worm as well. Ah, what a team we'd have been." Gale pictures you trying to convince him to sneak out of classes at Blackstaff, or as a member of the City Watch he would run into at the Yawning Portal, or perhaps just another adventurer seeking counsel from the local Archmage.

"I dunno, I kinda like the 'us' that exists now." Your words cut through his momentary fantasies. "I can't imagine the you that was the Chosen of Mystra would have even given me a second glance."

Your words seep into his skin, corrosive like an acid. He knows there's an ugly truth to what you're saying but he rejects it all the same.

"I can't imagine a world where I wouldn't have noticed you." Gale says quietly, like a secret. The look on your face says that you don't believe him.

"Sure, sure." Gale can taste the sourness in your tone, and an anxiety wells up in his throat. You push your axe into his hands, stepping out of the way of the training dummy. For the first time ever, Gale really, really wants to swing at something. "Anyways, give it a try. I'll try not to micromanage on your first strike."

Gale takes all your advice given thus far and puts it into action. Then, he takes an awkward swing that sees him nearly careen into his target. He hears your laughter, and you quickly come over to help him regain his bearings.

Gale feels the tips of his ears grow hot with shame. Your laughter is good-natured, but he still feels like someone just pantsed him in the middle of a lecture hall.

"That went... better than I thought it would go." He lies, rather lamely. "At least I didn't injure myself."

"My first swing probably looked just as silly, you're doing fine." Gale mumbles a sarcastic 'thanks' under his breath. "Here, you want to choke up on the haft a little bit." You come up behind him, moving his hand down the greataxe's handle. Gale sucks in a breath as you look over his shoulder, playfully scrutinizing. "And relax, you grip that thing any tighter, you're gonna turn it to splinters."

Your voice so close to his ear only makes him tense up further. "Relax, right. Any other advice, Professor?" He says the title in a low tone, teasing.

"Your swing was too jerky, you had good form at first but lost it as the axe came down." You step back and mime the motion slowly. "The downswing isn't pure momentum from the upswing, you want to keep pushing all the way through."

Gale nods, and winds up to strike again, repeating your advice in his head once, twice, thrice, before he brings your axe down onto the dummy. The burlap sack hanging off its arm falls limply to the ground, the axe cutting cleanly through the thin fabric and notching into the wood.

He almost wants to gloat; did the foolish mannequin really think it could best the Gale of Waterdeep?

"A little better!" You clap your hands together, picking the scrap of fabric off the ground and tying it loosely back around the now-weakened frame. "You did better on following through this time, just try a few more times. It'll get less awkward as you keep practicing."

"I don't think I'll every be less awkward at this, but your faith in me is welcomed, nonetheless." Spurred on by your praise, and by his partial disrobing of the dummy, he strikes once more, this time harder than before.

As always, his ambition gets the better of him. The downswing sees the mannequin's arm splintering in two, but the axe comes down to the ground faster than he can stop it, nearly slicing into his boot in the process.

"By the gods, that was close." Gale sucks in a breath, stepping back from the axe as if it actually had cut him. He shakes out his hands, adrenaline buzzing like he had run a marathon.

"That was... a really great strike, Gale!" You beam, wrenching your axe out of the earth. "For it being your first time using a weapon this size, I'm certainly impressed. Your form could have been a little... well, a lot better, but the power was there!"

Gale wipes the sweat off of his brow. As much as he was enjoying being your pupil, he thinks that after tonight he's never touching a greataxe ever again. Or, any other weapon, save a staff, for that matter.

"As touched as I am by your words, I think if I do that again, I'll really hurt myself. Or, your tent by accident." Gale's eyes crinkle as he smiles as you.

"You sure you don't want me to show you how to rage?" You ask, like you didn't want the lesson to end. "You could be the first ever Wizard Barbarian."

The night breeze makes the torches by your tent flicker. The warm light is almost inviting; the day had been so long, and your bed was so close. Much closer than his own, anyways. The orb pulses in his chest, like it was scolding him for his train of thought.

"I believe there is a good reason why no one has taken up that mantle yet." Gale knows he has to rip off the bandage, and so he takes a step away from you. If he stayed any longer, he might never want to leave. "But it is getting late, and as much as I'd love to remain in your company, it would be remiss of me to keep you up any later. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, after all."

You sigh, like you had known this was coming. "You're right." You reach up and squeeze his shoulder affectionately, hand brushing down his arm, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in its wake. It had been much too long since he had been touched like this, physically. "Goodnight, Gale. Thanks for indulging me tonight."

Gale can't help but smile, warm, despite the night's chill. "Of course. Thank you for being an excellent teacher."

"Perhaps next time we can do something less... strenuous? Perhaps you can teach me how to cook?"

Next time, he liked the sound of that. Liked that you weren't put off by his poor showing tonight. "Oh, I would love nothing more." He starts walking backwards, finding it near impossible to tear his gaze away from you. "Goodnight, I shall see you in the morning."

And wasn't that the most marvelous thing?

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mammoneyhoney · 7 months

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while in captivity, floyd encounters a human and unintentionally pair-bonds with you during a moment of biological vulnerability.

(cw: gender neutral reader, nsfw, omegaverse/abo, heats, captivity)

The marine lab has recently acquired a unique specimen—unique in that he is half-human and half-fish, hailing from deep, dark, indescribable depths. An eel merman, to be exact. You’ve only ever glimpsed merfolk in outdated textbooks and fairytales, the latter of which depicted them as whimsical beings capable of feats beyond scientific understanding. Magic. Although in the realm of biology, such folly is never entertained and so what the world calls ‘magic’ other fields built upon the foundations of research refer to it as a ‘miracle’. In your eyes those words are interchangeable, but then the idea of a miracle is far easier to digest than the concept of magic.

Merfolk have always been elusive, covert creatures, hence why there is hardly any conclusive data on them. In fact, they’re so secretive that they were believed to be mostly extinct—a figment of dreams and hallucinations. Most of what humans know stems from the tattered notes of long-gone sailors, their presences nearly lost to time itself, and for a while all anyone ever knew were four key details:

They are spread throughout the sea, living out their lives in frigid fathoms.

They are hypnotic and deceptive.

They are predatory.

They rarely interact with humankind unless absolutely necessary (e.g. to hunt or observe).

But with plenty of promising technological advances, some of the theories and myths surrounding merfolk have been bolstered or disproved, respectively. Merfolk are just as diverse as the rest of the animal kingdom. Some live in solitude. Others thrive in groups. Some make their home out of caves and grottos. Some dwell within the labyrinths of volcanic rock formations. It is every marine biologist’s dream to come face to face with one of these mysterious creatures, if only for just a few minutes to glean more information.

That dream is made reality today.

The eel mer was discovered off the coast of a tiny island, entangled in fishing lines and plastic litter. His large, winding body, snake-like in its sleek build, was littered with scars and scrapes. There was a hook lodged up in the folds of his gills. Despite his thrashing, his tail swishing wildly in the sand and nearly knocking down three researchers like they were bowling pins, he was wheezing and gasping, drained of energy and air. When the first bucket of seawater came down upon his dry gills, he settled briefly, wide, crazed, mismatched eyes flicking from face to face. Likely assessing the situation or counting the amount of bodies, the report claimed.

He fell still after that, and it took two teams of ten people to load him onto the lift so he could be flown to the lab.

After he spent a week in recovery, where he healed surprisingly fast, he was transferred to a much larger and wider tank, its depths far deeper than the average swimming pool. He doesn’t swim to the surface much, and he only ever pokes his head out at night, scanning his surroundings with intelligent, keen eyes. And then he turns and disappears below. It’s a pattern he’s stuck to for weeks now. No one really understands it, and they haven’t had the opportunity to try. He’s uncooperative and unpredictable. It’s much too dangerous to send a diver down there.

So they transfer you to his enclosure, assuming you might have more luck. You’re not sure and you can’t make any promises of potential success, as you’ve only ever interacted with marine mammals. A merman is…different. Not only because he’s half-man and, by that same logic, likely possesses a human brain that is capable of a higher level of thought, albeit one that is wired to suit his mer biology, but because he’s bigger. A lot bigger.

He could kill you.

You saw the documentation. The serrated teeth, the powerful claws, the dangerous jaw, the bulky, muscular build that cuts through water like a bullet. He is a predator in every sense of the word, and you’re supposed to look after him. Coax him to the surface. Get him to trust humans. Interact with him just inches from the edge of his tank and hope that he doesn’t get hungry or violent.

He might kill you.

But there are safety measures put in place for these things. Ethics to be followed and whatnot. It’s a slippery slope because he’s part human and therefore could possibly have the same level of intelligence humans have, in which case it would be wrong to trap him here. There may be ways to skirt around it with other animals, but he’s not like other animals.

For now, he’s kept here under the pretense of recovery and scientific study. The lab treats him like the big fish he is, going so far as to buy a shark suit in your size and instruct you to wear it even though you’re not going to get in the water. “It should prevent him from biting through,” they had said, “but it won’t lessen the force of his bite.”

“What good will that do? I can’t fight him off.” Though you knew it had nothing to do with anything, you added, “I’m an omega. Merfolk might not have the same sub-genders as we do up on the surface—or maybe they do; I don’t know—but if he were human he’d definitely classify as an alpha. Put that into perspective. I can’t. Fight. Him. Off. It’s biologically impossible.”

“So you poke his eyes. Dig your fingers into his gills. He should let go of you then.”

“That’ll hurt him,” you protested, clutching the suit to your chest.

“Not as much as he’ll hurt you.”

You suppose it’s a clinical priority. Survival of the fittest, but it’s the human who has to live. The lab could afford to lose you, but they don't want to. And if they did, they might put the mer down. Shoot him up with enough tranquilizers to keep him comatose. Maybe it only bothered you because, yet again, he’s half-human and no one on the team knows the extent to which he thinks and functions.

To simplify it, they consider him a shark. But like any creature, sharks learn and adapt as they go. Death is instinct.

He will kill you.

But you don’t want to think like that, which is why you put on your best smile and trudge into the enclosure he’s being kept in. The tank looms before you, seawater clear and beamed through with streaks of light from the harsh, glaring LEDs above. The deeper the water gets, the darker the shadows. You press your palm against the glass, observing the murky darkness with a frown. Somewhere in this tank, at a depth you can’t even imagine, is an eel merman. A big, strong, powerful, scary eel merman.

You swallow a steadying breath, curl your fingers into fists, and climb the spiral staircase to get to the attached platform. Your reflection follows you with each step, countenance set in grim confliction. Once you reach the top, you peer out at the surface of the pool, listening to the droning hum of water filters and other hidden machinery. There’s a very shallow part of the tank, a dip in the design that allows for the mer to lounge if he so pleases. You’re reminded of the dolphins in live shows, who slide up onto their stomachs to face an awestruck audience. You doubt that’s what he’ll use this ledge for. If anything, it could allow a researcher to kneel in the shallows while they interact with him at an intimate propinquity.

You don’t plan on being that researcher.

Instead, you pace a healthy distance away from the edge, holding a bucket of his breakfast in one hand and a notebook in the other.

“Um!” You cringe at your voice as it reverberates around you in a nervous echo. Cautiously, you inch towards the water. “I have your food!”

You wait three seconds, expecting him to come bursting up from the darkness like the shark everyone wants to delude themselves into thinking he is. The water remains still and unbroken. You wonder if your voice can even reach such a depth. If not the sound, the vibrations might. Or maybe he’s resting. It’s still relatively early in the morning. Perhaps his sleep schedule is thrown off. Yours would be if you were taken from your home and dumped in a manufactured version of your habitat.

You lurch forwards with the bucket and watch as a collection of shrimp, crab, and small fish soar through the air in a sloppy arc before landing and sinking into the waiting depths below. Nothing happens. The tension in your body ebbs away, and when it becomes clear that he isn’t coming up to greet you and feast on your offering you relax completely, collapsing against the wall with a great sigh.

If they really want to study him, they should just watch him on the security feed, you think, peering up at the camera in one corner of the room, its red eye fixated on you and the surrounding enclosure. He’s not going to come up during the day. Not when there are humans walking around.

Still, you wait your shift out, scribbling nonsense in your notebook and occasionally glancing up to gauge the state of the water.

The mer doesn’t show, so you resolve to try again.

Try you do, and try you have.

It’s been one week of perfunctory routine, arriving and feeding him at the same time in hopes that he might understand what you’re doing and come up to investigate. Or, at the very least, recognize you’re a recurring figure in his chapter of captivity. You don’t intend on befriending him. You only wish to fulfill your duties as a researcher, however skewed they may have become. Even though you know you ought to be grateful the mer hasn’t caused any problems, you want something to happen. Anything! At this rate, you’d sooner tire yourself out playing with rowdy sea lions than sit around in silence while waiting for an appearance from him.

It’s a quiet Tuesday afternoon when the first beat of unrest hits.

The mer’s enclosure is kept at a comfortable temperature for humans; it’s the water that’s freezing below the surface. So when you step up onto the platform and peer into the chum-infested deep, the empty bucket now set aside, you feel warmer than usual. Odd, considering the room is normally so chilly. Not extremely so, but chilly enough to give way to a pleasant cold.

Tugging at the collar of your shark suit, you cover the distance to stand under a large fan situated just near the dip in the pool. Cool air kisses your heated skin, providing you with much-needed relief, and you peer up at the propellers that spin in endless circles. Around and around and around. Your eyes follow the motions until you dizzy yourself, and you step back on wobbly legs. Your foot misses the metal platform and instead slips into the ledge built in the tank. With a startled yelp you fall backwards, landing in the shallows on your rear.

“Of course,” you mumble, bitter with embarrassment. “Leave it to me to fall right into the predator’s tank.”

You scoot further up onto the ledge, staring at the water below. It’s quite calm here, where the shallows lap languidly at your waist. If you were delusional, you might think this was a jacuzzi pool that you could dip your toes in. It’s not. Of course it isn’t. Not when there’s a beast lurking just below. But while you’re here, you run your hands through the saltwater while your own body temperature rises as if it’s a hungry flame in a stone hearth.

You place your hands on either side of the ledge, intending to push yourself up and onto the platform, when something tightens inside of you. Your heart stumbles in your chest and you lose the strength in your arms at once. With a noisy splash, you flop back into the shallows, your compromised body rigid and shaky with a tingling, all-encompassing warmth. Horrified, you raise two fingers to your pulse to feel it stutter wildly beneath your skin.

Swallowing thickly, you lower your head onto your arms and wait for the feeling to pass. The seconds slip by and in that short amount of time your state seems to worsen. Your temperature is volcanic, your every sense restless, and you’re sweating through the shark suit as if you’ve just run a marathon and more.

“Not now,” you hiss, slapping your hands upon your face. “Please not now. Anything but now…”

You intend to haul yourself up and out for good this time, desperate to get as far from the pool before your brain is completely overrun by your encroaching heat and robust omega instincts, when fingers brush against your leg. Something chitters behind you, a low, slow sort of sound that is shot through with curiosity. You turn as if you’re frozen in ice, your heart in your throat and senses on high alert.

The eel mer is right there, clutching your ankle in a firm grip. Not to hurt you, but to keep you there. And you’re not at all in a hurry to leave. Not when those claws are so close to your calf, capable of shredding through to your very bones. Even with the shark suit, you worry. He stares at you with narrowed eyes, his head angled in a cute, childish way. He appears confused and rightfully so, considering you’re a creature he’s likely never interacted with so closely before. You mirror his befuddlement, your brows furrowed, lips creased in a thin line.

For a long while, the two of you watch each other. If you look past his predatory design, he’s quite pretty with his smoky teal coloration and dark stripes. Your gaze pans over to the water, where a long, powerful tail disappears below. The paranoid side of you says he’s going to drown you, but then he doesn’t seem outwardly malicious in his intentions.

“Um…”

He flinches at the sound of your voice, his head snapping up to your throat and then your lips. Your attempt to pull your captive leg back is thwarted when he lurches, rising out of the water to grab hold of your foot. You gasp and shake your head at him, your senses sharp and dull all at once. Your heat-addled mind just barely parses the threat of danger, looming and ever-present.

“Please,” you beg, your tone sticky and breathless. “Don’t…”

The mer tilts his head the other way. The fins where his ears might be if he were human shiver, as if listening to the desperation in your syllables. He chirrups, lips widening in a sharp-toothed smile, and then he’s dragging you towards him. Panic seizes your nerves and you dig your palms into the smooth basin in an effort to get away. His expression falls when he notices your struggle and he lifts himself onto the ledge with you, draping himself over your legs like an oversized rug.

“Wait… H-Hold on; get off!” You grunt and weakly prod at his chest. He doesn’t budge. “You… You’re heavy!”

His webbed hand closes around your waist, steadying you in the shallows, while his other arm cages you beneath him. Instinctively, you arch into his touch, your breath coming in tiny, frenzied huffs. He clicks at you, and words that you can only assume are meant to be gentle and soothing are produced in a sweet melody. It relaxes you more than you’d like to admit, a lyrical balm to your terror.

You squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself for the worst. For the searing pain and the stinging agony. For the blood that will color the water a dark, foreboding red. For the sight of him merrily tearing into your jugular, his maw spattered with crimson. But none of that ever comes. He cradles your face next, his thumb running along your cheekbone, and slowly you peel your eyes open. His face is inches from yours, looking on with an intensity that’s almost primal.

Warily, you lift your arm out of the water and touch his hand. It’s much bigger in contrast to yours, but he’s handling you with such immaculate tenderness.

“You’re not going to hurt me…” you mutter, amazed. “You’re just curious.”

As if responding, he chitters. You nod even though you have no idea what he said. He doesn’t smell like an alpha or an omega or a beta. You’re not even sure if he’s capable of releasing pheromones, but if he were you’re certain it would have driven you much crazier than you already feel.

You hold his stare and reach up to pat his cheek, and he leans into your careful touch. Your hand soon trails down to trace his lateral lines, which earns you a pleased hum. You watch in awe as the gills on either side of his body flutter.

Led on by your own wonder, you follow the pattern to his waist and press your thumbs into his hip bones beneath smooth, slippery skin. “How fascinating… I wonder if it’s possible to take an X-ray. Would you allow—oh!”

Clumsily, he lifts you into his arms to embrace you, rolling his hips against the chainmail shark suit. Your breath hitches, and you fumble to grasp his broad shoulders.

“Ah, w-wait. I’m not… You can’t…”

He clicks thrice and lowers you into the shallows, his face scrunched in annoyance. You think he might’ve understood you, but then he’s palming between your legs and it occurs to you that he wants the suit off. Carnal delight shivers through you at the prospect of being wanted to such a degree, and though you know it’s the heat muddling your sensibility you can’t help indulging him just a little. You undo the zip at the back and slide it from your body, revealing your shoulders and bare arms for his wandering, mismatched hues. He leans in to nose at your scent glands, chattering happily as he inhales. You can’t understand a word, but he sounds pleased—even more so when he runs his hands along your arms, squeezing and petting in equal measure.

His tongue laves across your neck, and what fragile restraint you have left snaps. You cling to him like he’s your anchor, meeting his searching hips halfway with every awkward thrust that doesn’t quite connect as it should. You chew your lip, tamping down a torrent of filthy moans. Your mind is clouded with lust and instinct, and you dig your fingers into his hair, holding him against your neck while he continues to lick and nip.

It feels right up until the haze parts momentarily, allowing temporary sobriety when you spy the tip of something poking free of its encasing. Dazed and inquisitive, you reach between your bodies to prod at his slit, hoping to coax more of his prehensile cock from out of its folds. But then the door below opens and the mer lifts himself from off of you, his head turning in the direction of the sound at an alarming speed. You blink up at him, lazily following his line of sight. His lip curls up in a silent snarl, the beginnings of razored teeth peeking out, and then he slithers back into the water, his hands lingering on your ankles.

Despite the dizziness you sit up, your arm outstretched. “Wait, don’t go!”

I didn’t get to cum yet. You didn’t even claim me either…

He peers at you, neutral for all of a minute before swimming over to you. He presses his face into your palm, chittering softly. There are footsteps on the stairs, and he grits his teeth, withdrawing completely before turning and diving under in a spray of seawater.

You fall back into the shallows, panting like a starved, feral monster. A researcher comes to your aid, her expression equal parts shocked and disturbed. You don’t catch her questions, each one tacked onto what feels like a ceaseless rant, while she helps you to your feet. Something about danger. About heats. About omega biology. About how the researchers watched the both of you on the cameras, swelling with queries of their own.

“I’m not sure,” you mumble as you’re helped down the stairs, stumbling in a heat-drunken stupor. Thankfully, your fellow researcher is an omega like you and that relaxes the hypersensitive part of you—the part that fears being taken advantage of when you’re vulnerable like this. But the needier, greedier part of you wants the mer—wants his hands and mouth all over you, ripping you free from your suit and indulging in the bare skin beneath. “I think he...wanted to help…”

No one can explain his behavior. But it seems promising.

While you’re led from the room, the eel mer stalks you from the gloomy confines of his tank.

In the days following your heat, you return to the marine lab with your head on your shoulders and are immediately barraged with requests. Amongst all of them, one common demand stands out: You have to get him up to the surface again. Part of you doesn’t want to face the mer again. When you truly mulled over that day, tossed the memory of it around in your mind like it was a tennis ball, you were hit with shame.

It’s not…normal. Researchers do not tangle themselves in sexual situations with their subjects, especially when said subject was an eel mer from the Coral Sea. It’s unheard of. Luckily, the team of researchers you work with swears to secrecy. You were out of it and your judgment wasn’t in the best state. That’s the excuse they’re using. It works enough to push the humiliation from your thoughts.

You wonder if you should feel disgusted by the events. Rather, you didn’t mind it. For all of his rough, scarred, monstrous edges, he was gentle.

You press your fingers to your scent glands, recalling the feel of his tongue.

Today you’ve donned your usual work attire, foregoing the shark suit and any other protective gear the lab expects you to wear. Something tells you you won’t need it anymore. Not after everything that happened the day you went into heat.

Feeling rejuvenated and refreshed after your mini break, you trudge up the staircase with a food bucket, determined to finally fill your notebook with data. You’ve only made it up four steps when color flashes in your peripheral. You turn and find the mer is at your eye level, following you up the spiral staircase adjacent to his tank.

You pause and wave experimentally. He watches your hand move to and fro and then he mirrors your actions. He swims the rest of the distance to the surface, breaching it just as you make it onto the platform.

“Good morning, Mister,” you greet, bending down to empty the contents of the bucket into the water.

Disinterested, he watches bits of shrimp sink deeper. And then he looks back to you, his mouth opening and shutting. “Fu… Fu…” he forces out, his face scrunched in concentration.

“Fu…? Food?”

He nods and then shakes his head, hissing at himself in what you think might be admonishment.

“Fu…ro…”

“Furo?” You set the bucket aside and scoot closer to the edge. “What’s that?”

He tries once more before the syllables fizzle out on his tongue and, with a few frustrated clicks, he swipes a fish from the surface and stuffs it in his mouth. You giggle, and the sound has him tilting his head. Without a shred of apprehension, he meets you at the ledge. You watch him munch on the fish between his lips, content to observe in silence. He polishes it off rather quickly before procuring a handful, which he dumps onto the ground beside you. You shake your head at him, smiling weakly.

“Thanks, but no. It’s all yours.”

The mer shrugs and indulges without you.

“I should thank you for not hurting me back then,” you add. He pays close attention to your lips; you think he might be attempting to read them while listening. “Um… But don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not sure if merfolk are like humans, but we have this system… Or not a system… It’s more like…groupings? Secondary classifications?” You frown. How can you explain the complexities of sub-genders to a mer who doesn’t even speak your language? “Basically, I was in trouble and you helped me out. Kind of. In any case, thank you.”

He stares at you for a while, chewing and swallowing. You think he might swim back under once he’s finished, but instead he places his hands on the ledge and hoists himself up on his arms. He’s in your face next, all eager smiles and chitters.

“Fu… Furo. Furo…ido. Furoido,” he sounds out.

You read his lips in the best way you can before it finally clicks. “Ah! Floyd, right? Is that…your name?”

Floyd points to himself, makes a few upbeat clicks, and then nods. He’s pointing at you next.

“And me? Oh, my name is (Name).” You take your time sounding it out for him, and he repeats it with an awkward tongue. You smile and nod encouragingly. “That’s it. That’s me.”

He flops back into the water with a celebratory trill, a wild smile tugging at his lips. You watch him swim laps from you to the opposite end of the pool and back. Ditching the shark suit was the right call. You’re no longer uncertain. This time, you know for a fact that you’re going to be getting along very well with him.

And you look forward to fostering this flowering friendship.

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mammoneyhoney · 9 months

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Oh my God, we did it. There is a full beta of the final Our Life: Beginnings & Always story on Patreon 😭.

Our Life: Patreon Bonus Moment Beta 0.2 Build (NSFW - Completed Beta!)

If you give it a try, I truly hope you'll have a wonderful wedding night with Cove 💖

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mammoneyhoney · 9 months

Text

Introducing Petit Theatre~ ⸜( ˙˘˙)⸝

Experience the full kareshi experience on my ko-fi!

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mammoneyhoney · 9 months

Text

the sillies are in the shirts!!! orz

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mammoneyhoney · 9 months

Note

I have the feeling that if you would Touch/lick the horns of the obey me! Brothers they would get turned on.....

Now I need headcanon's to that help! 😭😭

!! Just a little touch | obey me.

Characters: The brothers x gn!reader

CW: none really, maybe a bit suggestive also kinda a bit crack ngl

A/N: I know this took centuries but i've finally done this request > <

m.list

Lucifer

Lucifer was not expecting this today. For the first time in forever, he was allowing someone else to care and groom his wings, he didn't think that a accidental touch of your fingers on his horns would affect him this much.

You're none the wiser to this 'cause Lucifer reacts with nothing a small twitch of his wings. But when you're done with the task in hand, you best believe you're not leaving his room for a while.

Mammon

Unlike Lucifer, Mammon has quite a reaction. You were just innocently cuddling when your hands made contact with his horns while brushing your fingers through his hair. Mammon's relaxed posture instantly stiffens up before he proceeds to turn red in the face, asking you what do you think you're doing?

As he lays back down, still quite flustered, Mammon carefully takes your hand and puts it back on his head, close to his horns, with a mumbled "didn't tell ya to stop"

Leviathan

Oh no, Levi definitely didn't want this to happen. He definitely didn't convince you to cuddle in the bathtub where there is hardly any room between your bodies and he definitely didn't subtly nudge his head in your hands.

When you do brush your hands against his horns, he asks you, in a shaky voice, to do it again which elicits a whimper falling from his lips. You definitely didn't cuddle afterwards.

Satan

Satan almost drops the stack of papers in his hands when he feels you touch his horns. You two had been walking home from a long day at RAD, as much as he wanted to, Satan couldn't entirely focus on what you were chatting about 'cause of how tired he was. All he wanted was to go home and sleep, he missed the way you voiced your curiosity over his horns.

He must have nodded his head to you asking to touch them. Well he's sure his heart is about to burst out of his chest and he probably wasn't going to get much sleep later either.

Asmodeus

Asmo halts his talking, blinking rapidly before a smile stretches over his face. Oh well aren't you just absolutely adorable? Being fascinated by his horns and touching them so delicately, not knowing the thrill that just shot in him.

He can't help it! Your hands are just so soft and he can't help but melt at the affectionate and careful touch. Oh and you're utterly memorizing face as you continue touching his horns, unknowing of the thoughts swirling in his head.

Beelzebub

Beel pauses almost comically when you touch his horns. Retracting your hand, as you quickly begin to apologise for doing that without permission, you feel Beel dip his head more into your hands, "you can touch them", and so you card your hand through his hair, softly feeling the horns.

Beel is thankful for his ability to maintain a poker face, though his cheeks do turn a bit pink, because the feel of your hand is quickly making his current hunger overcome with desire.

Belphegor

Belphie slowly blinks his sleep filled eyes at the touch. Smirking at the way you fumble on being caught, he quickly pulls you down with him in the soft bed and takes your hand to put it back on his head. He must've been too relaxed that his demon form had come out while he was sleeping.

Nevertheless, Belphie doesn't think that he can go back to slumber when you continue to inspect his horns. Yup, he definitely wasn't going back to sleeping.

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mammoneyhoney · 9 months

Note

mera im curious...what is the most pathetic and desperate virgin concept u can come up with for any boys you choose in twst??

I have so many that I will try to write pathetic virgin concepts for each twst guy!!! >:)

✧ Riddle who gets off to your notes. It doesn't matter how messy or neat they may be, how filled or lacking the page may be, or even how useful they may be if the exam covering that material has already happened. He knows it's wrong to have pilfered your notebook, but he couldn't help it and he assured himself he'd give it back under the pretense of having found it (which isn't entirely a lie). He sits back in his chair and flips slowly through the pages, not particularly reading the material you've written, as he idly fucks into his hand and pictures diligent you, sitting in class and penning notes. There are doodles in the margins of the pages: cute flowers, smiley faces, hearts, what looks to be Grim. He thinks about how you hold your pen, how you might chew on the cap when you're bored, how your hands also touched this very notebook... Great Seven, he's a mess.

✧ Trey who is so strangely fixated on your teeth and mouth. At first it was cute because he's so serious about dental hygiene, what with how he ensures Ace and Deuce brush their teeth properly. But with you it's different. When you smile, he pictures your teeth in his shoulder or your mouth on his neck, pressing kisses or sucking fresh marks into his skin. And when you're eating, he notes the way you lick your fork or spoon clean every time and it gives him such a vivid image of you giving his dick the cutest, most gentle kitten licks. He has to excuse himself before anyone finds out he's painfully hard. >_<

✧ Cater who gets off to the many selfies and photos he's taken with and of you. Sometimes he scours the other students' Magicam accounts to look at the photos they've posted of you and his mind runs wild with thoughts and what-ifs. That photo of you sitting between the twins during their birthday party has him wondering if they fucked you on that very couch after the festivities had worn down. Or that photo of you and Kalim sopping wet after the both of you got caught in the rain... He's zooming in to see if the rain's made your uniform shirt see-through all while thinking about how you and Kalim may have warmed up. Cater can't seem to look at pictures of you without thinking about sex, and it's even worse when he sees the pictures he's taken of you and him. A spaghetti scene you recreated from a popular romance film has him imagining what could have happened had you just leaned in a little closer. Or that one alchemy mishap in which you were turned into a tiny fairy for the day... if he put you in a jar....... :)

✧ Ace who gets off on teasing you. They say partial truths often lie in the joke, and Ace sure does love joking about very specific things when it comes to you. He drives you mad every time, but because the two of you are close friends he gets away with it. He sticks his fingers in your mouth when you yawn to prod at your tongue, all while saying, "If you keep yawning like that, flies are gonna get in your mouth~" Or he'll squeeze your hip after you've eaten sweets just to mess with you. Or he compares your hand to his (for some odd reason) just so he can get away with touching you. Or he shows you a card trick that ends with him tucking the card behind your ear rather than pulling it from that area. His teasing feels more like flirting, but anyone who notes this is earned a swift denial from Ace.

✧ Deuce who gets off to the domestic moments in your friendship. Sharing a mirror in Ramshackle when he spends the night, preparing meals for each other, and even walking to class and talking about very boring things (like the weather). It makes him feel so special, and sometimes he pretends the two of you are a married couple. Deuce gets so embarrassed if anyone points this out, especially the elderly who see the two of you in town and comment on how cute you look together. He adamantly denies it, but later he's in the bathroom imagining married life with you and it gets him so worked up.

✧ Leona who gets off on the power imbalance between the two of you. Realistically speaking, he's stronger, both in terms of social class (after all, he's royalty) and also physically and financially. But that doesn't matter as much as it does when he's around you. Despite all of this, you know how to match Leona's wit, always keeping him on his toes, and you treat him as you would others even while knowing just how much power he has over you should he choose to exert it. Leona just likes the feeling of being number one in your world. Possibly a little too much, considering it never fails to get him excited. :)

✧ Ruggie who gets off on sneaking up on you. At first it was to pickpocket you. Steal spare change for himself or take your wallet just to watch you panic when you can't find it, but he's come to love the way you turn around just in time to catch him. He knows he does this on purpose solely to get caught, but seeing how you huff and glare lightheartedly at him... the way you purse your lips or the way you snatch your things back and laugh softly about how he ought to try again next time... He doesn't even care about your wallet anymore. He just wants to hunt you down and catch you for himself. You're the real prize here. <3

✧ Jack who gets off to your difference in size and strength. At first it wasn't something he thought of, but then you come to him and beg him to help open jars or stuck windows and he does it so easily. He refuses to believe you're struggling that hard with it, but then he watches you attempt to open a jar and it all clicks into place. Oh, you're...really cute and small and so fragile compared to him, who's all muscle and raw strength. Jack knows you have your own strengths and in no way does he think you're weak, but he's always reminded of your size and strength differences whenever the two of you are doing things together: training/sports, lifting heavy things (which are often very light to him), and even standing side by side. He thinks about how much bigger he is and he feels so flustered when those thoughts get him hard.

✧ Azul who gets off to your body language. He knows what it means; he's studied human customs well in advance before coming up to the surface. But oh you tempt him every single time you arch your back when you stretch or when you yawn and make such cute, sleepy sounds. It's even worse when you bend over to reach for something across a table or bend down to grab something that fell. He's digging his nails into his palms to steady himself, but that doesn't mean his thoughts are steady. He may look entirely composed with his usual smile, but in his mind you're getting fucked six ways from Sunday. You can't give this man any gifts because 1) he'll scramble to pay you back and 2) he'll delude himself into thinking it's a courting gesture and that you want him sooooo badly each time you offer him a snack from the school store or give him something you think he could get more use out of.

✧ Jade who gets off to your banter, especially the threats. Great Seven, you tell him you'll gut him and turn him into eel sushi and OOOOOO he's on the edge of his seat like: "yes...... and?? and????? what else will you do to me?????" all with the wildest, sharpest smile you've ever seen him make. He gets so worked up, so flushed in the face, so terribly aroused, every time you threaten him with anything. Yank him down to your height and mutter a threat, whether outlandish, violent, or something as silly as "I hope both sides of your pillow are hotter than hell," and he's saving these interactions in his memory for later recollection.

✧ Floyd who gets off on your praise. Call him a good boy or congratulate him on his test score or cheer for him at basketball practice and he's over the moon with excitement. He eats up your praise like it's his last meal. Say more good things to him! He wants to hear Shrimpy's praise every day, and when he's in a bad mood all it takes is the memory of you saying he's done well and he's back to his usual excitable self. He likes your praise a little too much, as evidenced by how hard it gets him. orz he spends too long thinking about it while he lies in bed, staring at the ceiling while he lazily strokes himself to thoughts of you calling him a good boy.

✧ Kalim who gets just a little too worked up at your proximity. He makes for such good best friend material. It's natural you'd be drawn to him because he's just so sweet and friendly. So it's completely normal when you spend the night at Scarabia and you end up falling asleep beside him in the common room, or when he feeds you outright because that's just how he is! He wants you to try all manner of yummy foods. It makes his heart race faster when your lips close around his fingers or you unconsciously snuggle up to him. He loves you so much. orz

✧ Jamil who loves your obedient nature. It has him horny gripping every time you scramble to do well on a test or in class so you won't upset the professors. You try to keep out of trouble because you're a good student, and he loves every bit of it. He wants to ruin you, take your obedience for the professors and twist it so that you'll only ever listen to him, follow what he says, trust in his words. He could just hypnotize you and maybe a sick part of him wants that. Maybe he wants to experience what an entirely obedient, cock-drunk (Name) is like...

✧ Vil who uses his professional opinions as a way to feel you up. He runs his hands up your sides to smooth wrinkles in your uniform out, all while reminding you to take care of your appearance. He fixes your tie just to get close enough to smell your perfume or shampoo. He loves how you lean into him, trusting his judgement because Vil could never lead you astray. Secretly, Vil's just getting away with every touch under the guise of giving you advice or fixing your uniform or even getting measurements for tailored outfits for school events. It's much too easy.

✧ Rook who, unsurprisingly, gets off on stalking you. He's such a creep! He watches you from afar and gets hard over the smallest things. It's likely because you're so vulnerable and unaware when you go about your daily life and he gets to invade such a secret slice of your life. Whether you know he's watching you or not, it doesn't matter. Just the idea that, on some level, you might be able to feel his prying eyes gets him so unfathomably excited.

✧ Epel who loves a good competition and gets so into it if it's a competition between you and him. Whether it's something athletic or academic, he's always ready to engage in a friendly competition with you. Unfortunately, when you smirk at him and tell him he'll need to give it his all, he gets excited in...other areas. To think all it took was some competitive banter and your smirk to have the blood rushing downwards... T_T if he loses this competition, is the punishment a make-out session? Epel can certainly dream.

✧ Idia who is too scared to talk to you in person, so he codes a Magicord bot he uses as a practice dummy. But then things get a little out of hand when innocent chats turn explicit and soon he's role-playing with the false you. Idia knows it's not real, but it feels real when you tell him all the things he wants to hear. It's shameless e-sex, but it's the best (and only) e-sex of Idia's life. ;;;; he feels immensely embarrassed afterwards.

✧ Malleus who gets off on your smiles. It's such an innocent thing, but then it has him thinking so deeply about it late into the night. You're so sweet and precious. He could picture your smiles all day... Malleus loves you more than words can possibly describe. He thinks about the little things that make you so wonderful, but most of all it's how expressive you are when you smile. Sometimes he has a habit of letting his thoughts stray into intimate fantasies, but it's nothing terrible. He wants to love you wholeheartedly; that includes physically.

✧ Lilia who gets off on surprising you and subverting your expectations. He finds it so darling when you have certain assumptions about him, only to be entirely wrong when he disproves them. Though he's oh-so-cute (a fact he would never deny), there's more beneath that adorable veneer. He's a mysterious who loves popping in to startle you when you least expect it. Be it in the library or in the halls, he always finds you. And your shock is a sight he drinks in merrily.

✧ Silver who is so enthralled by everything about you, so no matter what you do it always makes him feel so in love and fluffy. He's never known this sort of love before, but he's always so honest about his feelings and so his attraction to you wouldn't be any different. You could be napping peacefully in class and Silver's watching you from across the room with the softest, sweetest smile on his face. He thinks about you day and night; you even fill his dreams. Most of it is entirely normal and innocent, but then all it takes is for someone to suggest something less-than-pure about you and suddenly Silver's thoughts are derailing. Oh, he's never thought about sex before. But sex with you? That seems very appealing, so much so that he's feeling much hotter than before. ;;;;

✧ Sebek who, in spite of everything, gets off to the fact that you're human. There's just something so...appealing to you. He struggles to put it into words (and he almost doesn't want to), but you're so soft and sweet and enticing. Maybe Sebek secretly likes your being human because it makes you seem weaker by some strange default? But then he dwells on this and that doesn't seem to be the reason. Truthfully, Sebek likes your humanity because it's charming. Because there's something about you that feels and smells different. Maybe it's because you're the first human to make him feel so aroused that he deems you worthy of his own affections, or maybe he's just hopelessly, pathetically in love with all of the things that make you human and he's trying so hard to deny that.

✧ Rollo who gets off to your scent. Maybe it's a perfume you wear or maybe it's your natural scent. Whatever it is, he's carefully borrowing insignificant items that smell just like you so that he can hold them up to his nose while he masturbates. You're just so perfect and your scent drives him crazy and he feels like a filthy pervert each time he does this, but it's too late to stop. He's already in so deep. Just your scent alone has him shuddering through messy orgasms; imagine what you'd do to him if you were here in person and he got to touch you...

✧ Neige who gets off to indirect kisses. When you share a spoon or bite from the same snack, his pulse is racing at the prospect of having indirectly kissed you. He's so eager and excited that he has to try so hard not to let his face get so flushed with arousal. And you're so relaxed about it! You're so cool... He could admire you forever. <3

✧ Che'nya who gets off on watching you when he's invisible. It gets him hard every time he catches you in an intimate or compromising situation. Whether you're bathing or changing or masturbating, it makes it all the more tempting when he's completely invisible and you have no idea someone else is in the room with you. He's thought about pressing himself against you when you least expect it just to feel you flinch or to hear your breath hitch. And then there's the thought of fucking you when he's invisible, where you'll only see yourself stretching around a cock that isn't visible to your eye. >:)

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mammoneyhoney · 9 months

Note

For the kiss prompts, can i get 41 with Satan? Thanks!

Satan:

41. Kisses shared under an umbrella.

Satan had been bustling with excited energy since this morning.

The promise of a bookstore date had weighed heavy on his mind and the fact it was in the human world, whose bookstores he rarely had the chance to explore, left him tingling with excitement. He was practically humming to himself this morning while making breakfast, leaving the brothers that crossed his path a little wary; it was hardly normal to see Satan in such a good mood, and Mammon almost called Lucifer to make sure their precious eldest brother was still breathing since he couldn’t imagine what else might put him up in the clouds like that.

When you emerged from your room properly prepared for the date Satan greeted you with a smile, such a cute expression you almost felt tempted to drag him into your room and keep it all to yourself. But instead, you hooked your arm with his, fingers intertwining as you teasingly asked if he was ready for your date.

You managed to reach a street lined with shops, the bookstore only another block or two away, when the clouds rolled in. Satan cast a disdainful look up at the sky but unfortunately, it only made the clouds quake in their boots, and the sudden onslaught of rain left the two of you in an awkward position. You tugged him along to a convenience store on a corner, trying not to laugh at the pout replacing his smile now as you searched for a proper umbrella to do the job.

“That one is fine.” Satan pointed out a deep purple one that had golden etchings along the side of it, almost too fancy for this dingy little corner store. “It reminds me of the book we were reading together last night.”

You remembered fondly the way you were settled between his legs, back against his chest as he held the book in front of you. He was a little too speedy to read silently and just wait for you to catch up, you had tried it before, but you liked when he read to you. It was something he chose to do when he wanted to calm down, and while that book had almost too many technical magical terms for you to comprehend it properly, you had suggested finding a book you might enjoy together. The prospect had Satan sitting up straight in no time.

“We could go on a date to find a new book?” Satan leaned forward to press a kiss to your shoulder, “That would be a perfect day for me. You’ll have to let me know the genre you like best.”

“Why don’t we pick out books we think the other would enjoy? And then we can read them together.”

The relationship was still in its beginning stages, where the two of you were still really getting to be in sync with each other, but the suggestion had been such a good one you were shocked you hadn’t thought of it before. You had seen the bookstores in the Devildom which were very reminiscent of what you were used to, but you still missed that musty smell of old but loved books that had been donated in hopes of spreading that love to others. It was also nice to not be paranoid about picking up a book that might make you grow ten feet taller or turn you into a cat, though Satan might not call that last part a con.

When you stand outside the store, the little ‘closed for lunch sign’ dangling in the window, Satan let out a deep sigh. He wasn’t unused to things going wrong when Lucifer never fell for his well-thought out plans, but this was something more frustrating. He had been so excited to pick out books with you, then the rain had gotten you both soaked beyond belief, and now you had to wait out in the rain to even peruse the store. He could see the books on the other side looking at him mockingly, telling him that he must be patient to know their contents, and he let out another sigh before turning to you.

“Should we wait out front?”

“We don’t have to, there’s other shops we can probably go to but…”

“But?”

“I kinda like standing in the rain with you. It’s really romantic, like that one detective noir show we watched the other night!” Satan nodded his head as you both remembered, his thoughts going to the interesting threads that led to the final invigorating scene while you thought about how carefully weaved together the relationships of the characters had been. “Remember when Ms. White finally made her move?”

“…I’m still not quite sure why they couldn’t move to somewhere less wet.”

When the two star-crossed lovers had united again, on opposite sides of a war that was the setting the tone for the entire case, they had to take the moments they had. Where they met not as enemies but lovers, finally able to take a moment for themselves. The rain couldn’t possibly stop them, the way they were attached to each other, sopping wet and kissing like it may be the last time they ever saw each other. You couldn’t say you wanted that exact situation with Satan but…

“Come over here, a little more out of the way.” You tugged him along, watching as he adjusted the umbrella and kept it hanging perfectly over the two of you to combat the rain. “There we go, we can just wait here for a moment, they should be back in a few minutes according to the sign.”

“Is there something else on your mind?” Satan’s head tilted, wondering why you had ushered him away from the front of the store where there had been at least a little bit of coverage.

“…I kinda want to try it,” Your words are mumbled but he can still hear you, giving you an amused look that was so cute your heart wanted to explode into confetti, “You know, like, kissing in the rain.”

“I’m not a fan of getting wet again. And I don’t think you should either, I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold…” Satan’s logic was sound but it was still a little disappointing to hear, maybe you should’ve just pretended every human world store was suddenly have an embargo on umbrellas. “But what about under an umbrella?”

Your eyes lit up at the suggestion and before you could verbally confirm, Satan has his lips pressed against yours. So soft and pliable, you wondered if he really did take Asmo’s advice to apply moisturizer every day to keep them in perfect shape. You were both still a little damp from the original downpour but when your bodies joined together as you deepened the kiss, all you could feel was the warmth of being against your lover, heart and soul now connected. You don’t let him pull away as you savored the taste of him, the coffee he had that morning leaving a bitter aftertaste that you’d grown to love.

“Thank you for indulging me,” Your words are whispered directly against his skin as you hesitated to pull yourself away from him, “Maybe we can find some more fun things to do in the books we pick out today. What do you think?”

Satan thought, not for the first time, that he was very much in love with you.

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mammoneyhoney · 9 months

Text

That hallway background was made entirely for this one conversation. I think it was worth it 🥰️

The Patreon-Only Cove wedding night bonus story is currently in development by GB Patch Games. You can read more about it HERE!

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mammoneyhoney · 9 months

Text

❦ BATH TIME

cw: none, this is fluff, nudity cause its a bath

inspired by my thoughts here

akashi takes the bath very seriously.

it’s meant to cleanse your mind and unwind from a hard day's work. he sets the temperature high and places a bottle of cool water beside the tub. his phone is playing his favourite songs at the moment, and he always has you in his arms. no matter what, it's not bath time without you.

both of your heads are wet from the shower, and his finger is tapping against your stomach to the rhythm of the song. his eyes are closed, and he hates when you move—your skin disconnecting from his invites the cold, and he doesn’t like it—so he keeps you close.

"seijuro~" you’re almost whispering. "you’re so pretty."

he doesn’t open his eyes; he only smiles in bliss.

"i’d start a hundred wars for you, my dear." he says specifically to hear you giggle.

"who am i, cleopatra?"

"you’re far more beautiful than her." he muses.

he listens intently to your retellings of the day. the coworker who’s cheating on her boyfriend had a pregnancy scare, you finally read the new chapter of the manga that dropped last week, and you saw someone that looked like your friend today. he answers with interest: the test came back negative, right? can you believe the cliffhanger they left! and did you talk to them before realizing it wasn’t your friend?

you are the most fascinating topic to him, and he could listen to you talk for weeks on end. though his eyes remain closed throughout the conversation, you know his attention is all on you. in the bath, the two of you are in your own little world.

but the bubble is popped when akashi hears the water sloshing, and his chest and arms come into contact with the lukewarm, but freezing, water instead of your warm body. he opens his eyes with a slight pout, but he’s greeted by an angel.

you’re standing up, ready to get out, and the water is running down your bare body in droplets, falling off your fingertips and into the bath with a small splash. akashi stares up at you in awe as you smile down at him, your hand stretching out invitingly.

"wanna go to bed?" you ask.

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mammoneyhoney · 9 months

Text

seventy-two pacts

have some sol thirst (i would go feral if this were me)

content + warnings: suggestive, solomon x reader, solomon has visible pact marks and reader does too

word count: 462

"damn."

the word comes out quickly, before you can even think. you cover your mouth in embarrassment-- justified, considering you couldn't keep your reaction in-- but you can't peel your eyes away.

solomon's peeling off his shirt. in the midst of joking around and pouring some for you two to enjoy, he'd knocked the rim of one of the glasses against the bottle, spilling it all down the front of his shirt. so, to avoid soaking himself further, he immediately began to take the long sleeved garment off.

then you said it, and now he's frozen, shirt halfway off.

can you blame yourself, though? you've seen your fair share of shirtless men, as is expected when living in the chaos of the house of lamentation. but they're all smooth-skinned and flawless. some of them have a couple of scars here and there from the great celestial war. their muscles were obviously impressive in their own right. but they all missed something that solomon had-- something you're just now seeing for the first time.

swirling black lines run across his pale skin, curling around muscles, decorating the smooth planes of skin in intricate designs. from across the table, you can make out little latin characters. pact marks. a lot of them. the ornate symbols decorate the exposed part of his lower abdomen, luring you in with strange words and beautiful lines before disappearing beneath his beltline. do they-- do they follow his v-line? holy shit, you're about to start drooling--

"haha, mc, my eyes are up here!"

his charming, light laugh catches your attention. his eyes are sparkling with mirth, lips curled into a cheshire grin as he removes the rest of his shirt and bunches it in his hand.

the pact marks dance up across his broad shoulders and down his arms. they're gorgeous, arcane and mystical as they sprawl down his biceps and spill onto his forearms. you've seen his sleeves rolled up before, so you knew he had a few pact marks, but-- 72 pacts never looked so damn good.

the seven pact marks on your skin had always been a point of your own fascination. but seeing the sigils on solomon's skin made you wonder if you'd ever be covered the same way.

"i need a new shirt," he declares, smirking at you. he take a couple steps towards his room, then stops when he sees you still at the table. "c'mon."

"huh?" you feel like you've missed something.

"you think you've seen all of my pact marks? no, my dear apprentice, i have plenty more where that came from. and since you're so curious, i figured i might as well show you."

you scurry up from your spot and follow him like the obedient little apprentice you are.

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mammoneyhoney · 9 months

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HI HELLO HI SORU :DD

running to the event rn rn

floyd with fluff prompt 14 please and thank you <3

prompt: “Teach me to dance, yeah?”

word count: 316 words

a/n: hi hi irene!! i hope you like the drabble :3 also I only have 41 pulls for leona broomquet [jp] sobbing rn why wasn't i more active

crowley seldom had good ideas, but this? this was undoubtedly the worst. you were a good dancer (maybe in denial, maybe not), but you weren't a frigging encyclopedia of dances and dances associated with specific cultures!

"my dear [name], you must understand! this is a prestigious academy and for the students to not be educated in at least one dance form? preposterous!" crowley exclaimed, a hand on his forehead. "and that is why, my dear, you will aid professors crewel and trein in educating the students of night raven college by becoming a dance partner!"

this is gonna be a long week, you sighed as you made your way to pomefiore's ballroom, the group for today oddly silent. peeking into the room, you noticed ace, deuce, jamil, jack, and floyd waiting for either crowley or trein to come and instruct them.

"hey guys, waiting for the professors?" you smile as you enter, occasionally glancing at floyd, whose mood you couldn't tell.

"hey, [name]!" deuce smiled. "apparently it's professor crewel today, and we're just wondering what he's going to teach us. it says on the board it's either salsa or the tap dance."

"what's the point of learning these though?" floyd whines from behind deuce, glaring at the board. "ain't like i need these underwater."

"well, both the salsa and the tap dance are good for boosting energy and coordination between limbs. maybe it might help underwater too? you never know," you murmur as you study the board.

"right, puppies, attention!" crewel announces as he walks in, his whip crackling. "we'll be learning how to dance the salsa today. it is more rhythmic and requires concentration, especially if it is your first time attempting to dance. ace, partner up with deuce, jack with jamil, floyd, you're with [name]."

"yay, i get to dance with shrimpy!" floyd exclaims as he rushes towards you. "teach me to dance, yeah?"

floyd is so difficult to write somehow ;_;

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mammoneyhoney · 10 months

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Floyd, who's bursting with joy when he sees your figure near the gym entrance, glad that you finally came at his basketball match despite being quite late as there was only two round were left, unable to hide his smirk that stretched across his face. And as the game came to an end with his team winning, Floyd immediately made his way towards you with an attempt to squeeze you in his arms, which he successed but received multiple, light slaps against his torso.

Floyd, who's laughter resonated when you started to scold him when he hugged you despite being sweaty which in return, poke at you for maybe being too busy to come cheer him on, making you playfully roll your eyes at his words, even scoffing when he decided to swathe his still sweaty arm on your shoulder.

"Ya' not sayin' anything, (Name)~" "I just...came incase none would cheer for the team...and since when did you stop calling me that nickname?" "Oh! So ya' actually like these? Hm...shrimp, shrimpyy~"

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mammoneyhoney · 10 months

Text

Without Saying (Floyd and Ruggie x Yuu)

"Oh can I help you? You seem to be lost." You attempt to cheerfully ask the vaguely familiar looking person in front of you. As if he is deliberately trying to rub salt in your wounds, Crowley ignored your request to leave campus for NRC parents day and is instead making you and Grim run errands. The person in front of you, blissfully ignorant to your inner turmoil perks up at your attention.

"Forgive me for asking, but are you the magicless prefect?" You and Grim exchange a confused glance. "You've got to be right?" They're practically glowing with how happy they are to see you. " Oh I'm sorry, I've just heard so much about you!" Wait, what?

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, feral ariel (Floyd) vs light angst again (Ruggie). If you liked this please check out the previous parts here and here, as well as my master list here.

Floyd

Under normal circumstances, a quiet Floyd was a suspicious Floyd but today- well today it was just odd. He doesn't look bored per se, just idle standing next to a very tall woman with similarly colored hair who is slowly, carefully, with extreme focus examining every inch of what you think is a novelty piggy bank shaped like the school's wishing well.

"Are you done yet Mamma?" Floyd sounds like he is being careful not to yawn.

"Hush now Floydie," she doesn't even blink, that's how tight her focus is, "Mamma is concentrating." Mrs. Leech's lips are tightly pursed while Floyd mutters something about going to get some candy and slinks off while you question if getting involved in this conversation is part of your job description or even smart. Unfortunately for you by the time you look back up from your clipboard Mrs. Leech has moved directly in front of your face in complete silence. "Human-" you go to scream but she silences you with a look you can't tell is from magic or practice raising the twins "Human can you help me with something?" She doesn't even wait for you to agree before holding up the piggy bank. "What exactly is the purpose of this object?"

"That?" You are surprised your voice doesn't give out entirely as she vigorously nods. "The piggy bank?"

"I see, I see." She nods sagely, immediately whipping around to where she evidently thought her son still was, shrugging undeterred as she decides to simply yell. "FLOYD! IT'S CALLED A PIGGY BANK."

"That's nice Mamma." Calls Floyd, oddly coming off as polite and rational from somewhere deep within the Mystery Shop. " But like what does it do?"

"EXCELLENT QUESTION! Say human what does it do?" You are deeply tempted to say that this woman cannot be serious but you don't really want to find out. You draw yourself up to your full height and nod.

"You put coins in it." Mrs. Leech blinks, a bit taken aback.

"Wait really?" Bravely, with a reasonable fear of being bitten, you reach over and gently lift up the top of the wishing well to show her the coin slot.

"I'm pretty sure this one plays a song when you put a coin in too." You explain.

"But it's so tiny?" She marvels, repeatedly opening and shutting the top of the bank. "How're you supposed to keep your money safe if it's so fragile? But then again I do keep most of mine with my husband..."

"Uhm it's supposed to be a fun gift for little kids." It occurs to you that she might find that offensive since it did look like she was buying it for herself. "To teach them about saving money, at least where I'm from anyway."

"Oh how cute. That settles it, I am definitely getting this." As if sensing that it is check out time Floyd shuffles over and immediately perks up.

"Little Shrimpy! Were you the one helping my mom?" He seems really happy, causing you to breathe a light sigh of relief. Mrs. Leech looks confused, zeroing in on you with the same concentration from earlier.

"Yeah. Trying to anyway." You nervously say; Mrs. Leech's attention turns to her son.

"Aww, how cute. You fishin' for a favor shrimpy?" Normally you would play along with his teasing, but your eyes dart awkwardly to Mrs. Leech whose attention is back on you, then the piggy bank, then you then her son, then you agai-

"Not really, I'm just trying to do my job." You awkwardly laugh and Floyd pouts.

"Spring or Summer?" Mrs. Leech asks cheerfully. To your surprise she has somehow managed to snatch up a second piggy bank within the .2 seconds since you took her attention off her.

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh just wondering that's all." She has a very serene smile on her face. Almost too serene. Like you just somehow signed away your soul because you didn't read some fine print. "I'm more partial to Spring myself." You try to look to Floyd for some context but for some reason, he's refusing to make eye contact. Weird.

Ruggie

"Thank you dear." The elderly beastwoman breathes a sigh of relief as you help her settle onto a bench next to the Coliseum. "Goodness, Ruggie warned me this place was big but I didn't realize just how serious he was." You nod, unscrewing the cap on one of the water bottles you brought with you for the old lady. She takes it thankfully and you breathe a gentle sigh of relief, not that Granny Bucchi had been anything more than a bit winded when you found her, but it was still worrying to see an old woman bent over like that. "I really should have just waited for him."

"Didn't he promise to meet you at the mirror chamber?" You ask, trying not to sound too judgmental. You find it hard to believe someone who spoke as fondly of his grandmother at Ruggie wouldn't want to escort her around, Granny Bucchi looks at you sheepishly sort of confirming that.

"He doesn't actually know that I'm here just yet, I wanted to surprise him." She tries to pass you back the water back but you shake your head. The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, the sort you only ever get while relaxing with a cup of tea, or in this case a nice old lady who is genuinely enjoying the campus scenery. It's so nice Grim curls himself up into your lap for a little nap. Granny Bucchi scratches just the right place behind his ears to convince the "not a cat" to let out a very cat like purr.

"Did you send him a message to let him know your here?" You whisper, trying not to wake your baby. "If not I can send him one." She lets out a small laugh, similar in sound to her grandson's but still very much her somehow.

"Oh I am sure he'd be half way here already if he knew I had you to myself. Who knows what sort of ideas I could be putting in that head of yours." She winks and takes out her phone, squinting at the keys trying to piece together a message. "You should still send him one though, you'll probably be faster than me."

"Do you mind if I take a picture?" You ask sheepishly. "You know so Ruggie knows you're ok." Lies you just want a picture of you with Granny Bucchi. Sure, to Twisted Wonderland she is just some lady, but she is easily celebrity tier to you with how much glowing praise Ruggie heaps on her.

"Oh please do!" To your surprise she seems genuinely excited and strikes a little pose. What a natural, Vil has nothing on this woman. Not that you are going to say that out loud because you don't have a death wish. You happily text Ruggie as Granny Bucchi looks on fondly. "Do you like taking pictures?" Her voice is much softer than it has been in the admittedly little conversation you have had. "Ruggie sends me a lot of the ones you've given him from your ghost camera, I keep trying to ask him if you're planning on being a photographer in the future but he always dodges the question." She's clearly curious and you can't blame her, you just aren't sure how to answer.

"The future is a bit complicated for me." Is what you settle on, really hoping it doesn't loose you points.

"Oh you don't need to feel bad about that." Her eyes are filled with warmth and affection that you haven't felt in a long time, it's enough to make you want to cry. "Technically the future is complicated for everyone, some of us just muscle through it better than others. Case in point." Granny hauls her self up and nudges you to turn around. Ruggie is staring at both of you with a strange look in his eyes, but when he makes eye contact with you he shakes himself out of whatever mood that was and jogs up to meet you both.

It would be nice, you think, if you could do this again.

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