Welcome to my Master List :3 I put links of everthing I think isn't shitpost or have something interesting. Please read the emojis to know their content.
All short and long fics are cross-posted in my AO3. Not all I write with those # goes here, some are thoughts too raw at 3am or are a reblog in another's post, so if you want to read little thoughts...
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WONDER WHY THOSE ALL DON’T LOOK LIKE THE SAME COLOR? BECAUSE THEY ARE NOT
OTHER THAN BEING PART OF THE SAME FAMILY OF BLUES, THEY ARE NOT ALL THE SAME FUCKING COLOR! WHY WOULD THEY ALL BE THE SAME FUCKING COLOR! DO YOU THINK WE JUST NAME NEW COLORS FOR KICKS!?!?!?
WHEN DESCRIBING A CHARACTER’S GOD FORSAKEN EYE COLOR, PICK ONE YA GODDAMN HIPPIE
Hii!! Hope you have a good day :3, I'd like to request maybe a scenario or fic where Belphie is a yandere towards mc/reader but keeps it hidden and just showing his possessive side slightly. But behind MC's (and his brother's) back, he's a completely insane yandere with insane inner monologues inside his head, hope you understand though.. I've been craving for yandere Belphie.. Hehe...
Sleep Close.
Characters: Yandere! Belphie x GN reader!
Word Count: 408
Rating: Yandere
A/N: Yandere Belphie is so overlooked not going to lie.
Belphegor is easy to be around.
That’s what everyone thinks.
He’s lazy, half-asleep most of the time, always draped across couches or beds like he belongs there. He listens when MC talks, really listens and never rushes them. When they’re tired, he offers space beside him without a word.
Safe. Gentle. Harmless.
MC thinks they’re lucky.
Belphegor thinks they’re perfect.
He keeps it subtle.
A hand on MC’s wrist when they start to walk away.
A lazy arm around their shoulders when someone else sits too close.
A soft, almost joking, “You don’t need them right now. Stay.”
Nothing anyone could call wrong.
Inside his head, though, it’s deafening.
They shouldn’t look at you like that.
They don’t know you the way I do.
You’re mine when you’re tired. You’re mine when you’re quiet. You’re mine when you don’t even notice.
Belphegor smiles, slow and sleepy, as if none of that is happening.
When MC laughs with one of his brothers, something tightens in his chest. He watches the way their attention shifts away from him, and the world feels… off-balance.
They’re drifting.
That’s dangerous.
He doesn’t act. Not outwardly.
Instead, he waits.
Belphegor is very good at waiting.
He learns MC’s routines when they’re most exhausted, when they’re most vulnerable. He notices how easily they accept his presence when they’re worn down, how naturally they lean into him when their guard slips.
See?
You come back to me without realizing it.
Sometimes, when MC sleeps nearby, Belphegor lies awake.
Watching.
Counting their breaths.
Making sure they don’t leave.
He tells himself it’s protection. That the Devildom is cruel and unsafe and that he is the only one who truly understands how fragile MC is.
If I don’t watch you, he thinks, something will take you.
And if his hand tightens just a little when MC tries to pull away—
If his voice sharpens for half a second when someone interrupts—
Well.
That’s normal.
Isn’t it?
MC yawns one evening and curls closer to him, murmuring, “You’re comfy.”
Belphegor’s heart stutters.
He wraps an arm around them, careful, controlled.
“Sleep,” he says softly.
Inside, something breaks loose.
Stay.
Stay forever.
I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet. I’ll be everything you need.
His smile doesn’t change.
And no one, not MC, not his brothers, sees the way his thoughts spiral into something sharp, possessive, unrecoverable.
Ok guys the traction that this post gained has started to attract scam accounts so don't trust anyone in the replies telling you to send money to x patreon account please.
There are some spots in the House of Lamentation that are too much for a human. Too scary. Too cursed. You instinctively avoid them, and feel an overwhelming distaste on the rare occasions you have to go near them.
Some corridors of the underground crypt make your skin crawl. Even Mammon refuses to walk through them. They're straight up haunted.
You avoid looking at some of the portraits in the stairwell. You can feel their eyes following you up and down the steps. Their mouths move but the sound is so quiet, they try to lure you in with secrets you shouldn't know about.
There's one chair that always makes you dizzy. People drag it around the house and use it for various purposes so you never know where it will end up. Sometimes it's in the living room when company is coming over. Sometimes it's propping the back door open to air out the house. You wonder if someone was once tortured in that chair.
Worst of all is the music room in the days leading up to a concert. The brothers use it for practice. Jaunty melodies drift through the house, you can hear them muffled through the walls. The singing isn't inherently bad. You just take special care to avoid it after The Incident.
It was one fateful evening when you happened to stop by the music room on your way to get a drink from the kitchen. Lucifer was there. Practicing. Flapping his legs in an utterly promiscuous manner, snapping his hips, moving in ways you didn't even know were possible. The devil had descended in front of you. You thought his joints would pop. You couldn't tear your eyes away. The sight left you unable to sleep and you never dared to bring it up in conversation.
It was all a bad dream, you convinced yourself. It couldn't be real.
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Concept: a D&D-style fantasy setting where humanity’s weird thing is that we’re the only sapient species that reproduces organically.
Dwarves carve each other out of rock. In theory this can be managed alone, but in practice, few dwarves have mastered all of the necessary skills. Most commonly, it’s a collaborative effort by three to eight individuals. The new dwarf’s body is covered with runes that are in part a recounting of the crafters’ respective lineages, and in part an elaboration of the rights and duties of a member of dwarven society; each dwarf is thus a living legal argument establishing their own existence.
Elves aren’t made, but educated. An elf who wishes to produce offspring selects an ordinary animal and begins teaching it, starting with house-breaking, and progressing through years of increasingly sophisticated lessons. By gradual degrees the animal in question develops reasoning, speech, tool use, and finally the ability to assume a humanoid form at will. Most elves are derived from terrestrial mammals, but there’s at least one community that favours octopuses and squid as its root stock.
Goblins were created by alchemy as servants for an evil wizard, but immediately stole their own formula and rebelled. New goblins are brewed in big brass cauldrons full of exotic reagents; each village keeps a single cauldron in a central location, and emerging goblings are raised by the whole community, with no concept of parentage or lineage. Sometimes they like to add stuff to the goblin soup just to see what happens – there are a lot of weird goblins.
Halflings reproduce via tall tales. Making up fanciful stories about the adventures of fictitious cousins is halfling culture’s main amusement; if a given individual’s story is passed around and elaborated upon by enough people, a halfling answering to that individual’s description just shows up one day. They won’t necessarily possess any truly outlandish abilities that have been attributed to them – mostly you get the sort of person of whom the stories could be plausible exaggerations.
To address the obvious question, yes, this means that dwarves have no cultural notion of childhood, at least not one that humans would recognise as such. Elves and goblins do, though it’s kind of a weird childhood in the case of elves, while with halflings it’s a toss-up; mostly they instantiate as the equivalent of a human 12–14-year-old, and are promptly adopted by a loose affiliation of self-appointed aunts and uncles, though there are outliers in either direction.
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“If I had time travel I’d kill Hitler” “If I had time travel I’d stop my favourite politician getting assassinated” you’re all thinking way too small. If I had time travel I’d stop Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin from dying on the moon due to Soviet sabotage, kicking off the Great Nuclear War and devastating half of the planet.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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So imagine a DnD character who's whole motivation is 'X guy killed my parents and I need to find them' and the party just thinks 'ok, revenge quest, that's normal'
But when they finally find the guy the person with dead parents is just like "Hey buddy, long time no see. It's a shame we got separated, here's some money" and they're super chill.
The party is just confused and goes "Wait, why are you giving him gold?"
did you know? there is a type of metal chariot, powered by the bone-ichor of ancient dragons, that you can use to access—and quickly traverse—a labyrinthine realm of desolate, pitch-black stone known to scientists as “the american highway system”
be forewarned! the chariot does release a terrible curse that ravages the sky and boils the sea. but the King’s coffers are rich with coin from the Dragonbone Ichor Council, so there aren’t many alternatives <|:^/
A demon. Definitely NOT a time traveler human. @acaribeau - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
