helluvamess | [tlv] character inbox

[tlv] character inbox

"If you're hearing this then I can't be fucked answering right now or some other shit-covered fuckwich is going down on this boat so I'll get back to you when the fuck I can!"

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[The door to Blitzø's cabin looks like a typical shitty apartment door. Inside is pretty much exactly a shitty apartment. The door marked "Loona's room" does not open when tried and it appears that Blitzø himself sleeps on the couch. The walls are covered with images and drawings of horses, however every picture of Blitzø has his face scribbled over.]

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[He groans.]

I like you, you dense fuck. And so does Florian.

[He pulls himself up and turns, sitting cross legged across from him.]

Do you want me to tell you all the reasons why? Shall I sing you a song? Write you a poem?

You're in fucking denial, not my fault.

[The threat does make him shut up, flustered though. Compliments are not something he would be able to manage.]

So Sebastian likes me about as much as any other powerful demon where I'm from, in that he'd probably stomp me out of existence without a thought. [He just shrugs.]

...you're sure all it's been is a broken arm sometimes?

[He tilts his head, confused enough to not follow through with his threat. Which is good, since he had nothing prepared.]

Yes. Well, sometimes it's other bones. But - you've seen how I heal.

Yeah but it still fucking hurts. Besides he heals too and he's being a prick if he's allowed to break your bones but Satan forbid anyone touches him.

Who's Satan?

And you're not allowed to bitch to me about caring if you're doing the same fucking thing.

That's different!

[How is besides the point, time to distract him with some Hell 101]

Look, pretty sure you've heard people talking about God, right? Well I'm from Hell so we don't really swear by Him because who wants to risk it? But Satan is one of the original deadly sins and in charge of Wrath where a lot of imps call home I guess so it just kinda ended up that way.

Plus his name is shorter than everyone else's.

Sounds like an ass.

[He leans back on his hands.]

So are you still done with us?

Eh, from what I've heard he's mostly a gym bro. There's definitely worse sins.

[And there's the question. He can feel his face heating and stares up at the ceiling like that'll make it fuck off faster.]

...fuck, no. I guess not.

Good.

Remind me when I'm done to ask more about this Satan character. He sounds fascinating.

[There is a lot of Hell to learn.

But for the moment, he sits up, brushing his hands off, and leans forward to kiss him. Height difference doesn't mean much on the floor.]

When you're--

[Oooh, that kind of done. It's definitely easier to reach like this, that's for sure, and all things considered, this is a much better way to get rid of those fucking emotions.

Blitzø immediately fists a hand in Johann's shirt and returns the kiss with a fierceness bordering on desperation.]

[Johann is all feeling-talked out. It's the sort of thing that exhausts him in a way he just can't articulate. And he's been doing it a lot more thanks to Emet.

Prick.

At least for now there's a kiss to worry about, and he leans into the grip on his shirt, folding one hand over Blitzø's.

And when he pulls back, just a fraction, he's smug, like nothing ever went amiss. Pretending is also better than feelings.]

Aww, you missed me that much?

Like a fucking infection.

[He bites at Johann's mouth, harder than he would anyone else but not actively trying to break the skin, and then he's up and straddling Johann's waist. His tail loops tightly around the other man's waist to ground himself, and one hand buries in Johann's hair to tug his head to the side and let him bite at his neck roughly next.]

[He immediately plants his free hand behind him, though he lowers down to his elbow at the sharp bite of teeth on his skin. He shudders, melting against the rough touch.

But Johann can't resist running his mouth, even as he frees the hand around Blitzø's to trail along his back, raising his hips as the tail goes around him.]

How romantic of you. Lure me into your hovel. Call me names.

I could - get used to this.

['Hovel' gets a sharper bite, and this one does taste briefly of blood and salt, although the mark is gone almost immediately.]

Not all of us can freeload off a sorcerer, asshole.

[His other hand now free, Blitzø works on pulling Johann's shirt open, nipping at the pale flesh to watch the brief flushes of colour that bloom and fade in moments. Speaking of Florian though, he makes himself pause, even if it's probably very obvious to Johann exactly how invested he is in continuing.]

Is he going to mind?

[The bite is effective enough that he actually breaks a little, drawing in a sharp breath as his shoulder burns.

His fingers trail along his spine, letting small sparks of electricity, nothing painful, only noticeable, at the question.]

No, because after this, I'm taking you back so he can have you, too.

Don't rip my fucking shirt this time, you barbarian.

[He slides a hand underneath the little imp's shirt, static still beneath his fingers, against his skin.]

[There's a prickling sensation that takes him a moment to place as Johann's fingers move over his spine, and Blitzø groans, arching sharply as those fingers venture treacherously close to the base of his tail.]

Well- fuck-

[Johann is doing unfairly well at fucking up his train of thought and he curses further as a second hand starts at his stomach with the same prickling electrical touch.]

Fuck that's hot- [Not fair either, who the fuck let Johann have hands that could do this shit??] Fucking Florian, bet he taught you this... asshole.

You think Florian is the only one I've been with?

I sucked off Norton here before Florian even arrived.

[Ever the tease, he takes his hand away from his chest and flicks his finger at his shoulder, shooting that small spark against his spine.

He sits up, pushing Blitzø back, trailing sparks instead along his tail with a laugh.]

Let me up so I can properly undress you, or you'll be the one with ripped clothes.

Yeah but I doubt he taught you to do this shit.

[He's both saddened and relieved when Johann removes his hands, because at least he has half a chance at forming a thought now... until Blitzø makes a sound bordering on pornographic, a whole body shudder going through him.]

Fucking dick. [Right, stand up after that. Asshole. He manages to get up even though he's painfully hard now and remembers that they're... on the floor in front of his door in his shitty little apartment.]

Yeah... I don't have a bed? You sure this is ok?

Oh, you're so precious that you can't get your dick sucked on the floor? Or fucked in a chair?

[Another laugh, another trail of sparks along his tail. He would do anything to hear him make that sound again.]

I'm not the fucker who has a fancy giant-- [Fuck, Johann definitely knows how to get a reaction and Blitzø immediately loses his train of everything. He grabs for Johann's shoulders more on instinct, his tail looping tightly around the man's hand.]

Asshole. Thought you wanted me upright?

I don't know. [His voice is a purr, immediately trying to make him haopy, to hear him enjoying himself like that.]

Seeing the way you're practically begging for me now...

[He raises his hand, looping fingers around his tail.]

Thirsty bitch, you're the one who can't keep his hands off of me.

[He leans in to kiss and bite at Johann's lips again, pulling back to shove off his coat and pass Johann his choker.]

Put this on the table next to you? I don't give a fuck if you tear everything else apart.

[Everything else can be ignored, but he accepts the choker with a nod and sets it on the table as asked. And then he tugs lightly on his tail and moves forward, trying to pin him down, deft fingers running along his clothes to hastily undress him.]

That's because you're just the size of my fucking hand. What am I supposed to do with you, anyway? You're fucking tiny.

Then you'll be fucking used to me, all that practise with your own hand.

[He lets Johann get him down on the floor, helping as much as he can to pull off his gloves and toss those somewhere he'll find later. Then he is definitely not helping and instead trying to wiggle his tail down the front of Johann's pants to stroke his cock. He doesn't have any fancy magical tricks, but he can move the spade with surprising dexterity, a weird mix between a tongue and a palm.]

[As much as he tries to pretend that he's immune, that it doesn't affect him, his fingers still against his shirt, tensing at the touch of the tail as it manages to find his cock, half hard already.]

That's cheating, Mäuschen.

[But he's not complaining, leaning down instead to press a kiss to his neck.]

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