Sexy Ask: So Blitz, You Managed To Get The Attention Of The Sin Of Lust. How Do Plan On Rocking His Night

Sexy Ask: So Blitz, you managed to get the attention of the sin of lust. How do plan on rocking his night so to speak with his request of wanting to be dominated?

"Do you mean before or after I pretend not to have an existential crisis because holy fuck what the fuck am I doing? After? Sweet, let's go with after!"

Blitz tugs his jacket straight and puts on a bright grin, because everything he is fine, he absolutely is not in over his head with that big damn chicken, who is absolutely not going to make Blitz fall for him because that's what Asmodeus does, all sweet and passionate and sincere as he is. Even if he's being harsh about putting someone in their place at the club, he's intensely charismatic and Blitz is absolutely not immune to that.

"So, once we're actually alone and I figure out that oh, shit, yeah no he's serious about this, and is seriously okay with letting me do this, I'll... probably be a disappointment, but fuck it, I'mma try to be the best disappointment he's ever had. Ozzie seems like he's probably going to be pretty chill with, uh. I mean, most things, considering who he is. But I'll probably ask what domination means for him. Does he want to be an active participant in decision-making once our playtime starts? Like, fuck, you know, does he want me to check in often, ask this or that? Because not all subs do. Some just want to surrender, to offer their bodies and their trust into someone's hands, to let someone else just... do what they want with them for a while, so they don't have to think, so they can just kind of... float and feel and experience.

"So uh..." Blitz is looking less cocky now, more thoughtful, actually considering how a conversation like that might go. "Yeah. That's how we'll start. Figure out what domination means to him, how much he wants to be able to mentally check out, how uh... present, he wants to be. If we're diving directly into shit like that, that takes a lot of trust, we're fuckin' talking about it first, you know? See where his hard limits are--shit, even his soft limits, I don't want to cross one just because, in the moment, he's horny and thinks it sounds great. It's too fuckin' easy to get a sub to agree to something they maaaaaybe don't really want to do, once the scene has already started, and I'm not about that life, I don't wanna do that to anyone."

He holds up his fingers for each point: "So, discuss domination. Discuss limits. Then work within those limits to fuckin' melt his feathered ass. I wanna see if chickens can purr. And I mean, obviously, I want to get deep inside of him. Asmodeus is gorgeous, can you even imagine how good it must feel to share your fuckin' body with him?"

Blitz, what do you love about Angel Dust? (for @poisonedspider's Angel because they've been getting stupid anon hate and having a rough time and I saw you're one of their mains)

for @poisonedspider

"Uh..." Blitz narrowed his eyes at the stranger, frowning, but just shrugged after a moment. What could it hurt to compliment someone he really liked? So, he folded his arms and leaned back as far as the sticky little booth would let him.

"He's a lot smarter than people give him credit for, and he seems real like.. I don't know, fuckin' classy? You know? Like, he stares down all the shit people wanna put on him. Homophobic shit? He'll grin and that's like, you know. The fuckin' warning you get. You try to fuck with him with like wits and you're screwed before you even start--that guy has got a fucking vocabulary, and I don't think I can even spell half of the shit he can say. Well, I can't... really... spell much anyway, but listen," he sat up straight and pointed at them, "that's beside the point.

"Maybe he doesn't always believe in himself, but he carries himself like he's got some goddamn self-respect, and I think that rubs off on the people around him. Some guys with power and fame make you feel small, do whatever they can do to just like, you know, shit on the little guy, put people down. Angel Dust makes you feel taller than ever, and like the day's a little brighter or somethin."

🔹 Saying that it's okay to write or read about dark and taboo topics but only when they're portrayed in a certain way is still censorship.

🔹 Wanting to ban or forbid media that you believe portrays a negative topic in a positive light, by glorifying, romanticizing, or fetishizing it is still censorship.

🔹 There is no objective metric to decide if a story is portraying a negative topic the 'right' way.

🔹 Just because a piece of fiction doesn't explicitly condemn or portray an evil action in a bad light in the text doesn't mean the author thinks its good or is trying to persuade the audience that it is good.

🔹 Survivors of trauma will not always write fiction about their trauma in a way that seems 'right' or 'normal' to you.

🔹 Banning fiction because it portrays dark, taboo topics in a way you consider gross or disgusting is still censorship.

Crimson hated her. He hated her for so many reasons, but chief among them, because she was right. She kept things interesting. He never quite knew what to make of Betty, but the fact that she was here, that she wanted to be here, that she stuck around when she had no reason to, when she had to know better? Every day, that grew just a little more intriguing. And while Crimson had no intention of ever truly trusting her, his instincts seemed to disagree with that choice.

She felt trustworthy.

It was a poor business decision, getting involved with an unpredictable, feral beast like her...

But here they were.

His eyes locked onto hers, Crimson took her firmly by the chin and ran the claw on his thumb down her jaw, down her throat--hard enough to hurt, even if it wasn't hard enough to draw blood.

"Alright," he said, after a long silence. "You want a taste of my blood? Go ahead. But," he snapped his fingers, and several guards came in, "you go too far, Betty-babe, and you'll be sleeping with the aquatic bitches." Maybe this wasn't a huge and sweeping statement of trust in the grand scheme of things, but for Crimson, it was. He didn't trust people easily. He didn't open up easily. But this charming lunatic--what was that phrase punks these days were using? Rizz? She rizzed him up and it worked.

He let go of her jaw. "Don't hurt me bad, doll, and maybe you'll get another chance." He wasn't excited at the thought of pain, but hey, if a little pain meant his vampire pet was happy? Sure, he could take it. Why not?

What was the worst that could happen?

[ Cont. ]

“ Oh, baby…I do not want you to call in just someone. I want YOU to be that someone. “

Eyes narrow with SINISTER EUPHORIA, watching as he flicked his tail out of her grasp. Taking all of this as a GAME, the warlord stuck her tongue out playfully and spun the mobster around in a circle, pushing her large head up against his neck like a BEAR DESIRING PETS.

“ Oh, please.

Do you not tell me you do not ENJOY MY PRESENCE — I make shit ENTERTAINING around here! I am SMARTER THAN MOST OF YOUR STUPID, AQUATIC BITCHES.

ADMIT IT ~ . “

@doublejango

"Shit!" Blitz swore and clutched his hand to his chest. Mammon might look soft, but that son of a bitch was strong, a lot stronger than Blitz had been counting on--not that that was going to stop him. With a growl, he pulled a knife, its angelic edge glittering even in the darkness of the room, and held it ready to fight as he moved towards his gun.

"I'm plenty fuckin' durable," he said, his eyes always on Mammon's eyes, a deep sense of calm awareness settling in. This was a foe he shouldn't be taking on, but it was way too damn late for takebacks now. "And don't think that just because you look like the best snuggler in the entire fucking world, I'm going to be fooled or drawn in by your charm. Asshole." His tail was starting to thrash, and something glittered on the end--it looked like a knife of some sort, some kind of gleaming jewelry or weaponry, angelic steel with a bright edge and a filigreed center, delicate and strong, fixed over the spade.

"Tell me, swear to me, that you're never going to bring harm to Fizzarolli or Asmodeus. Promise me on something that means something to you," he was always moving as he spoke, keeping up a slow pace as he moved towards the side, always staying balanced, "and we won't have to find out tonight just how fragile Hell's magical infrastructure might be, when one of its main supports goes down."

Mammon froze as soon as that gun was raised to his throat. His own breathing stills as he stares at the imp holding the gun. It was a regular gun after all, wasn't it? Best not to think about it too much. He hasn't said a word, giving the other time to think what they were doing, or about to do. "Who even said I had anythin' planned fer Ozzie ? " He really didn't, nor did he know what this guy was even going on about. 

"You mean Fizzy ? Look, guy, I ain't fuckin' doin' anythin' but workin' on shit here. As much as I would love a visit from Fizzy & maybe definitely want him back, I ain't gonna force him."

No, no. Not force, but maybe trick him later down the line. Of course, this guy didn't need to know any of his plans. 

He didn't even know the other's name. 

"Listen, why don't ya calm down & ——— hah ! " Taking the opportunity as he sees that loosened grip, Mammon knocks the gun out of their hand & kicks it across the floor. "Fucking do that shit again to a sin & we'll see how durable you really are."