#And no demon other than himself would ever roam the earth again

[blues824]

Talking about the uppermoons how would they react to the female Solomon reader.

🧙‍♀️Learning that a human has cured ubuyashiki and later on muzan learning that it was not just a regular human but a human that has reatched his goal in life to become immortal and learning that she was born around 1000 bc and is one of the strongest sorcerers in the world.

✨How pissd of whoud they bet that a regular human became immortal on accident because of her shitty food when they though she did it on purpose but later on find out it she became immortal on accident.

🧙‍♀️Them later on finding out that she used to be married to yoriichi and that her even had the pact of Solomon (and kokushibo not knowing about it and being angry that his younger brother outdid him by being married with the most powerful soreror )

✨And her helping the demon slayers ever since and now has resurfaced and is helping the hashira and ubuyashiki again .

🧙‍♀️Them learning that the used to be royalty with a 1000 lovers and wives learning that they library of Solomon holds books that can destroy the world that only she can enter because of her magic.

✨Imagen them kidnapping her and hers summenig her 72 demon and telporting away and later on telling the demon slayers and ubuyashiki about the location of the infinity castle.

🧙‍♀️The uppermoons and muzan learning that she has pacts with demons that are way stronger than them and don't eat human flesh but their soul.

Does not include Hantengu or any of his other personas. Sorry, but it’s too much. I did include Gyokko and Nakime, tho.

Muzan Kibutsuji

He knew you existed, and for years he had been searching for you. After all, you were the wife of one of his greatest enemies, as well as an incredibly powerful ally to the Demon Slayer Corps. Not just that, but you were immortal and could roam the earth. You also cured Kagaya Ubuyashiki, so it was no wonder he wanted to see where you got your magic from.

However, when he did manage to somehow kidnap you, you didn’t do anything to demonstrate your power. In fact, you just sat there as you teased about how he was just so angry that he couldn’t conquer the Sun while you had 1000 spouses since he had become a demon. You could even destroy all of demonkind with just a whisper of an incantation, you further pissed him off by saying this.

Eventually, you got a bit tired and you knew that the demon slayers were struggling trying to get you back, so you activated each and every demon pact you had and proceeded to beat his ass and stomp it into the ground. As he laid there, battered and bruised, you stated how sorry you were for the diseases he had in his life and how they led to the decline of his quality of both life and demon-life.

Kokushibo

He was very angry that his brother managed to outdo him once again, but this time in picking a spouse. You were a legend all over the world, with powers unmatched and immortality, along with being able to roam about in the Sun, his brother won the jackpot. But, as furious as he is, he follows Muzan’s order to keep you alive.

The Rip-Off Michael Jackson himself had put everyone on shifts to look out after you and make sure that you weren’t up to deep shit. But, Kokushibo was aware that you would try to use his brother against him. What he didn’t expect was for you to say ‘I dreamed of meeting you, based on the wonderful things Yoriichi had told me about you. At least his wish was granted’.

This threw him for a loop as he just stared at you in shock. You took the chance to summon the 72 demons you had pacts with and quickly made an escape. As strong as your brother-in-law was, he stood no chance against the demons you associate yourself with. In addition to that, the demon slayers that were trying to get you back got assistance from a different kind of demon.

Douma

This man was not opposed to being assigned a shift of watching over you. In fact, he was very excited. But once he walked into the room with a smile, you (with a matching smile) told him to drop the cheery exterior and show his real self. Well, you didn’t have to be such a mood killer, now did you? He asked, after ditching the fake ass smile.

To be fair, while you were being held captive, you got to read Douma for who he really was. You were aware that he was idolized as a child for his eyes, and you were also aware that he was leading people to a false paradise that he didn’t even believe in. However, you knew that it was real, and that it was the Celestial Realm. You didn’t think it would be worth arguing with him, as it was his belief.

However, you drew the line when he said that it was sad how you didn’t make your husband immortal as well, and that it must have been because you were selfish. You let your emotions get the better of you, as this was a matter concerning the man you loved. Thus, Douma was trampled by the 72 infinitely stronger demons. Not completely dead, but he did not recover fast enough to stop you from making your escape.

Akaza

He wanted to challenge you to a fight to see if you were strong, but Muzan had ordered him not to. Unfortunately, for his shift, he was paired up with Kokushibo… the goody-two-shoes who always followed the rules. But, upon entering the room where you were tied to a chair, you said ‘I wish I could have been there. I could have healed your father, and your wife’.

This stopped the Uppermoon in his tracks, as there was no way you could have known about his life when he was a human. To be fair, you were a powerful sorceress, but to have this amount of power over him with just words. His partner didn’t have much mercy taken upon him either, and he knew that this would be a struggle.

At some point in the night, you sensed that the demon slayers were struggling due to a spell you had set in place, and you summoned the 72 demons you had on standby to pummel the two into the ground. You needed to escape, and you were aware that you wouldn’t be able to recite a spell quickly enough. You had to admit that you did feel bad for just layering on more pain, but to be fair, you were the one who was kidnapped first.

Gyokko

To say that he wasn’t excited to be ‘babysitting’ you would be the understatement of both his and your immortal lives. However, you weren’t exactly happy to be here either. Whenever you would attempt any form of small talk, he would bark at you to keep quiet and tell you that he was only here because the master had ordered him to be.

But, you were able to see into his human life, and you had to admit that he had been pretty fucked up as a kid. The villagers didn’t help either. You, in a moment of quiet, whispered that ‘an interest and fascination with the dead after seeing your parents’ corpses isn’t unusual’. This caught Gyokko’s attention, as he was constantly ostracized for his peculiar and even mortifying interest.

However, this little dance of trying to understand him was getting too tiring, so you summoned your 72 strong-as-hell demons and broke out of the restraints. It was saddening, as you wished to know his entire story and how you could help him reach the Celestial Realm. But, it was no longer your concern. What was your concern was making sure that the demon slayers didn’t die for you.

Nakime

Upon meeting her, you knew that this would be a rather boring night. Her responses to any questions you asked were kept brief and to-the-point, not wanting to let you receive any more information than what Muzan deemed necessary. Plus, there was danger in you knowing more than you needed to know.

But, you were the most powerful sorceress in the world, and you already knew more information than was given to you. You even said that you thought her music was beautiful, but that her husband was shitty. Her hands stopped one one of the strings on her biwa, surprised at what you had said.

When you felt some of the demon slayers you had a personal connection to shout your name with the spell you had once given to your husband to seal away, you knew that it was time to wrap up the show. You ordered your demons to not kill Nakime, as you knew that it would disrupt the fate planned out for her, but they left her incapacitated enough for you to escape and help the demon slayers.

Daki 

So, she also wasn’t exactly pleased to be put on a shift. After all, the master was showing clear favoritism towards you. She wasn’t able to lay a single finger upon a single strand of hair on your head. But, she didn’t want to anger Muzan, and thus followed his order. However, she did not indulge in any small talk.

‘You are fortunate to have your brother, but it’s disheartening to know how you have struggled in life and in your current afterlife’. This caused Daki to do a double take, as she knew that there was no way you could have known about her human life. She had to recompose herself so that you wouldn’t be able to see her as vulnerable.

As the night went on, you suddenly got a chill down your spine: a demon slayer had been killed. You summoned all 72 demons and ordered an attack to get you out, and you broke out of the restraints. It was all a whirlwind, but you used your magic to make it an easier escape. You were very angry, to say the least.

Gyutaro

Another person who is not excited to be watching over you, but he had received a warning from his sister that you would try to manipulate him by telling him that you were saddened by his human life. So, he went in expecting it, but you didn’t say anything. Instead, you just watched him as he took a seat in front of you.

What you did say was, ‘You regret being a bad influence to your sister. Don’t be. You taught her to be strong and resilient, and I saw that during her shift.’ Well, you just hit close to home, didn’t you? Gyutaro didn’t really know what to say in response, so he just stayed quiet. However, he saw that you were very graceful and very tender, but he tried not to let his guard down.

Eventually, you got the all too familiar shiver down your spine, and you knew that it was time to leave and help the demon slayers. You summoned your demons, and you were sad that Gyutaro was fighting his hardest while the 72 demons on your side were barely giving their ten percent.

#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #kny #muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan kibutsuji #muzan #muzan x reader #kokushibo #kokushibo x reader #doma #doma x reader #douma #douma x reader #akaza x reader #akaza #gyokko #gyokko x reader #nakime x reader #nakime #daki x reader #daki #gyutaro #gyutaro x reader

[twinszka]

Funeral of Innocence (jtk)

DEMON JAKE AU 18+ Jake x female reader

WARNINGS — drugs, alcohol, smoking, language, demons, smut, mentions of death

—

The beat-up record spits out a sound decades old, a melancholy tune the man quite enjoyed. Over the years he had been dead, he learned to appreciate the macabre. It was some sort of reminder of his second chance at life.

His heels clicked across the black marble flooring, taking him directly to his bar cart that sat on the west side of the apartment. As a light breeze tickled the back of his neck, the smell of bourbon enveloped him.

“Hello,” he greeted the presence, his tone flat as he grabbed the bottle of bourbon. Looking through the glasses, he felt the presence pick out its cup, luring Jake to wrap his fingers around the glass.

The darkness often communicated with him by using his senses, sending him a smell of something it desired, or making him feel obligated to do something. It had no face or body, only a dark aura and a voice. Some would say it was the devil himself, and Jake might even agree with that assumption. Whatever it was, it ruled him and his every move. It was the reason he was still roaming the earth after being dead for the past fifteen years.

“No whiskey?” Jake questioned, pouring himself a glass. He downed the glass as quick as possible, pouring himself another before turning on his heels. With every step, his eyes stayed glued to his glass as he watched the liquid try to escape from the edges. His rear met the deep-gray sofa, and he felt the presence wash over him again.

“I thought I could switch it up. Things get monotonous after fifteen years,” the presence spoke, whooshing around the room and settling in the chair in front of the man. The Darkness presented itself as a black cloud of mist at all times, unless it was angered tremendously. Jake had seen what it shifted to once, and made it a point to never see it again.

A deep chuckle left the hollowness of Jake’s stomach, the laughter echoing throughout the luxurious apartment.

“You must have gone through every bottle of liquor ever,” Jake smiled, crossing one leg over the other.

“Oh, several times each. Don’t forget, I’m older than this planet,” it reminded. “That’s beside the point. I think you understand why I’m visiting you.”

Jake let out a shaky breath, trying to not let the presence know he was becoming nervous. The only thing distracting him from the conversation was the burn of the alcohol in his stomach, causing him to sip on the remnants of his glass.

Part of the contract between Jake and the Darkness was as follows: Each year the Darkness got hungrier, and required Jake to bring it another soul. Jake had abided by this rule for fifteen years.

“Yes. I’m going to go out later. I haven’t let you down yet, have I?” Jake smiled, chugging his drink and slamming his glass down on his coffee table.

“Don’t start now. I’m getting hungry. You have 30 days before I turn into something you don’t want me to,” it hissed, disappearing into thin air.

Once the heaviness had been lifted from the air, Jake took a deep breath and collected his thoughts. He hated having to steal souls, but he loved living more.

Large veiny hands smoothed the black velvet against his skin, making sure not a single wrinkle was found in his suit. Wavy strands of dark hair fell right past his narrow shoulders, suiting the shape of his face. His jaw was sharp, and his eyes were a piercing deep brown— something new he had earned after dying.

A bell chimed overhead as he stepped inside, the noise barely audible over the pounding music. His eyes stayed glued to the floor as he made his way to the bar, occasionally waving at his employees on the way.

Finding a soul to deceive was taking him forever, and he debated on giving up for the night. Nursing a drink might help his troubles, so he ordered an old fashioned and stirred it until his wrist was sore.

Just as a man decided to get up from his stool, you sat next to him and snapped at the bartender.

“I need a drink. Don’t care what, just make it fast and strong,” you demanded, earning a chuckle from the bartender. Amused, the man took his seat again.

You took a look at the man next to you, taking in his features one by one. His beauty seemed unreal, and for a moment, you truly wondered if he was a figment of your imagination. He stared back at you, a smug smirk plastered across his face. After a few silent seconds, the man finally spoke up.

“A martini for the lady…on the house,” the man shouted over the music, leaning back against the back of his chair. “Heavy on the vodka.”

You looked at him, your mouth slightly agape and one eyebrow raised.

“What? Can I not treat my customers?” He asked, sending her a quick wink and flashing a sparkling smile. He was well kept, unlike most of his customers.

“Customers? Do you own the place or something?” You retorted, turning your body toward him.

“Completely. Have for about four years. Jake Kiszka.” He spoke, extending a friendly hand to you. You took his hand in yours, startled by the strong handshake he gave you.

“Y/n. Why have I never seen you here, Jake?” You replied, tilting your head.

“I don’t come here often. I know my employees run a good establishment, and I don’t have much to lose.”

The bartender slid your martini across the bar, making you expect to see the liquid pour out over the edges, but it stayed completely still. You noticed Jake’s eyes straining as they looked to the glass, almost as if he was in a trance of some sort. Whatever the fuck just happened freaked you out, but you pushed it to the side and chalked it up to a coincidence.

What made you even more uneasy was the way Jake’s eyes drifted from the beverage to yours. It felt like he was burning a hole through your soul, and you smiled to break the disturbing feeling of it all. He flashed the same smile from before, clearing his throat and tending to his drink.

“Sorry,” he apologized, downing the rest of his drink. He slid it across the bar to the bartender, and you watched him grab the glass as if it was routine. “Pretty girls distract me.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Not particularly,” he countered, a chuckle leaving his lips. “Unless you wanted it to call it that.”

“Anyway, are you hiring?” You asked, changing the subject and pointing to the section of dancers.

“You dance?” He asked amusedly, eyebrows raising as he sipped on the refill of his drink. “I mean, we could always use more people.”

“Perfect, how do I apply?” You asked, beaming as you finished your drink.

“I’ve got a pole in my apartment,” he shrugged, the same smirk across his face. “I could give you my address and-“

“Absolutely not,” you retorted, cutting him off. “For all I know, you could be a serial killer.”

“Only one way to find out. Do you want the job or not?”

You pondered for a moment, feeling the effects of the single martini you had just downed. Typically you wouldn’t feel it this early, but you hadn’t drank in months, and the bartender sure did make the drink strong. All rationality left your mind, and you decided in agreement to audition. After all, you had lost the job that provided you with the most income, and could make a fortune dancing.

“Send me the address and I can be there around eight tomorrow night.”

And with that, the two of you exchanged numbers. You pushed on the door of the club, the cool air of the night overwhelming you as you stepped out onto the concrete.

On the drive home, the man consumed your thoughts. Needless to say, he was one of the most beautiful men you had ever seen, but something about him was slightly off-putting. And something about going to audition at his apartment was slightly off-putting.

DISCLAIMER! MY WRITING IS PURELY FICTION.

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fic #demon fanfic #demon jake #demon jake fic #gvf #jake x reader #jake gvf #jake greta van fleet #jake kiszka smut

[jadekitty777]

Return to the Crossroads

Second entry for today and is another revisit to an old story of mine that I never intended to come back too. Once upon a time I wrote a story where Tai was an angel and Qrow was a demon called Divine Intervention, and it was fun. So I decided why not come back to it.

Actually no what really happened was the prompt “Gods & Monsters” was a thing, I went “I’ve already basically done this” and decided to just expand... and then I shuffled the prompt days and it doesn’t even matter now xD Ironically Hurt & Healing also would have fit very well for this... but no, I went with Final. As in “Final Frontier” aka the afterlife lol

Technically can be read as a standalone but makes a ton more sense when having read the original story.

Prompt for Day 7: Final

Rating: K

Word Count: 1300

Summary: It had been over a decade since Qrow had come to heaven, but sometimes the demons from his past still chased him down. On days like today, Tai could only hold him through it.

Ao3 Link: Return to the Crossroads

~

On that fine May afternoon, the weather at Hecate’s Lake was balmy and clear. Dragonflies flittered about, landing on long cat-tail weeds, or dancing above the clear water that would ripple every now and again when the breeze sought fit to pick up. Despite the perfect day, it was quiet; kids were tucked away in school this time of year and few families saw fit to pull them out of end-of-year activities even for a nice day out. So other than a couple of boats upon the water, casting lines for fish, and the two souls tangled together upon the grass on the shore, there was no one around.

It was the kind of day Taiyang remembered of his youth – when less people roamed the earth and the lake was newly discovered and unnamed. Where he and his fellows would fly away to when the urge struck to just shuck work and boil away the day, catching frogs and skipping stones and sleeping away on the shoreline.

Much like those long ago days, he found himself drifting where he lay upon the grass, head tilted towards the sun. Perhaps he may have even managed it, but a touch to one of his wings stirred him. He tilted his chin left and down, towards the lanky man sprawled across his chest, and murmured, “You’re doing it again.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Though Qrow tamed his expression into one of simple innocence, the twitching of his own dark wings gave him away faster than a wild stallion bucking off an amateur rider.

“Mmhmm,” He reached up, pushing back the other’s fringe of dark locks so he could tap a kiss to his forehead, as if it could soothe the hurt within. “What ails your mind?”

After all, his lover only touched the scars on Tai’s wings when he was thinking about Before. When Qrow’s black wings had more leather than feather and his head was crowned with horns instead of a halo.

…When he was alone and unsure he’d ever not be.

“You always make it sound like I’m dying or something.” Qrow puttered back with a sigh, smooshing his cheek upon Tai’s breastbone. “’Member when we first came here?”

“A’course. You were rather perturbed by my presence as I quite recall.” Taiyang joked lightly.

“Had a right to be, seeing as you were stalking me.”

Tai clicked his tongue. “Ah-ah, shepherding you.”

“Don’t act like that sounds any better. M’not a damn cow.” Qrow deadpanned.

“Perish the thought! Not when you compare so much nicer to a bowlegged donkey.”

His beau finally cracked a smile, snorting. “Jackass.”

“Precisely.” Tai grinned in return. Normally he didn’t joke so freely when the mood was so serious, but sometimes, when the haunt creeped into Qrow’s eyes, he knew it helped. “Sorry to derail you, what was it you were going to say?”

The smile dimmed but didn’t fade. “S’nothing just… did I ever thank you, back then?”

It was such an odd question to ask after all this time; the day was a decade behind them now. Had it been a less impactful moment, Tai wasn’t sure he’d of remembered at all – but he very much did.

“Hard to forget our second kiss. You were so sweet about it too~” He cajoled.

“I was messing with you.” This time he sounded a little less sincere. Qrow could holler about all he wanted, but their mutual attraction had been ripe from the start, just waiting for the right teeth to sink in. “I mean it though,” He continued valiantly, “Did I?”

Tai cupped the other’s pale cheek in his hand, murmuring, “Sweetheart, just because you didn’t say it, doesn’t mean I didn’t know you felt it.” When the frown only persisted, he added, “You could say it now, if it would appeal?”

“Such a cowboy.” He muttered, red eyes rolling as if such things actually irritated. His look clouded, a thunderstorm incoming as he grumbled, “I was such a jackass to you… why didn’t you ever give up on me?” The next words soft as they were boomed in Tai’s ears like a crack of thunder, “I was a monster.”

Abruptly, he sat up, gripping Qrow by his shoulders so he could not flail too far. Perched upon his lap and within his arms, the younger man had nowhere to go and thus, could not flee from the intense look Tai brought down upon him as he said, “Qrow Branwen you were many things back then, both good and bad. The worst of which are things I’d freely admit to even to this day, you surly, stubborn ass.” He caught the other’s face between his hands once more, sentiment honest and firm, “But of all the things I’d ever call you, a monster will never be one of them.”

Qrow grabbed him at his wrists, pushing them away as he snapped, “I murdered someone!”

“A sin you’ve atoned for a hundred times over. It still does not make you a monster.” Like a viper, his next words spit like venom to the air, “No, the ones who hurt you, who tortured your very self out of your own head until you forgot yourself, they’re monsters.”

The other’s face twisted a bit, the reminder an ugly blemish, before it smoothed into solemnity, “I could have been one of them.”

“But you’re not.” Tai replied, catching his eye even as he tried to shrink from it, “You never will be Qrow. You were stronger.”

On bad days like this, it was hard to tell which way it would go. Sometimes, Qrow would fight him at every turn. Snarling and howling like a wolf caught in a bear trap but still raring to bite his enemies and even those who might try to help. Other times…

…Would be like today, when all the fight would blow away from him like a feather in the wind. He’d slump against Tai with a weary sigh, allowing himself the comfort of his arms, the shelter of his golden wings that encircled them, a mimic of a shield that would keep all the bad away.

With his head now pressed into his shoulder, Qrow’s words came out muffled and weak, “Why am I like this?”

“It takes time, sweetheart. Healing is not something you can rush.” Tai reminded. “I promise one day you’ll find the peace you’re looking for.”

There was a puff of air against his neck as the other man scoffed. “Sorry you have to put up with me until I find it.”

“You are never someone I simply ‘put up with’.” He combed a hand through dark locks as feathery soft as the wings the man bore. “Before you came along, I was a field without water, drying up as the years went by. Then you sparked a wildfire in my heart. It was like I came alive again. What once was nothing but brittle weeds and shriveled crops was given chance to grow again.”

It was a shame he couldn’t see the other’s face as he flabbergasted, “…Tai you could just say ‘I love you’.”

“And pass up a chance to fluster you by waxing ridiculous poetic? You’d sooner get the cows to come home.” He pushed a bit more of his accent into his tone as he continued, “’Fraid yer just gonna have to tolerate me a half-time’s more, alrite partner?”

Against the sliver of bare skin his collar didn’t quite cover, he felt the way Qrow’s lips turned into a smile. “’Suppose I can do that, Sunshine.”

And it was everything Tai could ever want.

#taiyang xiao long #qrow branwen #Taiqrow #taiqrowweek #taiqrowweek2022 #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

[laedback-taurus]

Hiding His Wife

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader Word Count: 1.8k A/n: Thank you so much for over 500 notes on ‘Best Present Ever’ I honestly can’t believe it. The first few paragraphs of this are the build-up of your relationship with Tommy. I don’t really know how I feel about this one. Only roughly proof read :/

Tommy tried to hide his wife from his family after the prison incident but accidently lest it slip when he thinks she's in danger.

You had met Tommy Shelby and his brothers when you were children, you lived next to each other and played together often. As you grew up, you followed him through life, everywhere Tommy Shelby went, you were there right by his side, well everywhere but France where Tommy secretly kept a photo of you in his pocket so in a way, you did follow him there. When Tommy turned to more illegal habits, you followed him, eventually donning your own peaky cap. Besides Polly you were one of the only people he trusted, you however, were the only one able to get him to take a damn break. As the years passed by with you planted firming at the Shelby’s side you found yourself longing for more, you didn’t want to walk beside him, you wanted to walk with him. You kept your feelings to yourself, afraid to lose the friendship you had with the man but then she came along, in all her blonde beauty, Grace. Somewhere deep down you held onto a tiny slither hope that Tommy would one day be yours, but it seemed that day would never come.

You were there when Grace was murdered, the pain in Tommy’s eyes broke your heart, he may have loved another, but he was happy with her and now his happiness had been taken from him. You had stayed with Tommy that night, holding him like you did the night he lost his mother, your heart hurt for him but quietly, deep down that spark of hope swelled slightly, you cursed yourself for having such a feeling when he had just lost his wife, but you couldn’t deny that it was there, and it was growing.

After that night things seemingly went back to how they were without Grace, you were following him again, this time you were picking him up as you went along. On one particular afternoon Tommy called a family meeting at arrow house accept, he asked you not to attending, you had been attending them since the beginning, but you agreed, there must be a reason for it, unless he was starting to be bothered by your presence. You had been stewing with your thoughts when your front door flew open and in stormed the man himself. He looked guilty and you dreaded why. He sat down and told you everything, the Shelby’s had been arrested.

At this point you had practically moved into Arrow House, helping Tommy with all things business and chasing away his demons. You had begun to notice his eyes watching you more often and with more intrigue than usual, you had noticed how when you spoke, he gave you his full attention, abandoning his work instantly. You tried to brush these things of as just something that you hadn’t noticed before but soon, you wouldn’t be able to deny any of it.

You were currently taking a little break from the confines of Arrow House by roaming the gardens, you loved to spend some time at the end of the day just wandering through the gardens.

“Thought I’d find you here” Tommy spoke, approaching you with soft smile on his face.

“It seems this is becoming a habit” You returned his smile before looking back out at the garden in front of you.

“You mind if I join you?” He asked, standing beside you, his arm brushing yours softly.

“Not at all” You eagerly responded, maybe a little too quickly. You both stood for a while, enjoying each other’s company and the warm hue from the evening sun. “It’s so beautiful out here” You sighed, relaxing more with each passing moment.

“You know Y/n” Tommy started, turning his head only slightly to look at you “This could be yours one day if you wanted it” You turned to him, a baffled look on your face.

“Tommy Shelby, how on earth do you think I could ever afford a place like this?” you exclaimed, was this man mad? He did know how much he paid you right? Tommy just laughed softly; you were about to give him your two cents when he caught you off guard. He placed his hands on your cheeks and brought his face down to your level and with no hesitation, he brought your lips to his, kissing you with a softness your never thought he would be capable of. He pulled away and looked at you, still holding your face in his rough hands.

“Do you understand now?” He asked with a slightly cheeky tone.

“I think I might need a tiny bit more help understanding” You suggested making him laugh again, a sound you missed so much.

“Who am I to deny such a beautiful woman” He whispered.

“Hold on, you think I’m beau- “he cut you off with another kiss, one filled with more passion this time.

“It’s always been you Y/n, it just took me too long to see it” He whispered against your lips.

After that evening and after so many years of following Tommy Shelby, you were finally walking with him, he was yours. It wasn’t long after that Tommy asked you to marry him, he stated that you had waited long enough so there was no need to hold off, you two knew each other better than anyone else, you were ready. The Shelby’s had been released from prison some time ago, but they understandably were beyond pissed at Tommy and none of the family had been in touch except for Ada, who had always known about your love for Tommy, and she was beyond happy that her brother had finally realised. The three of you had agreed to not tell the rest of the family yet, tension was already high between them and Tommy and him finding happiness while they were locked away wasn’t going to make the situation much better, so you reluctantly agreed to be married in private with just Ada to witness. It definitely wasn’t what you had dreamed of but if you were with Tommy, you didn’t really mind how.

One moment everything seemed pretty much perfect, Tommy was a happy, loving husband and then one black handprint ruined it all. Tommy had flown into a panic, calling the family for the first time in so long, every Shelby had received one. Tommy had told you pack as quickly as you could, you were moving back to Small Heath, and you’d meet the rest of the family there. You didn’t even get a chance to talk to him about what to do, did you have to pretend he wasn’t your husband now.

Tommy had woken up in his old room Small Heath after a rather unpleasant night sleep, his brother was dead, his family had a target on their backs and worst of all, he had to pretend his wife was just an employee again. He looked over at the space next to him, noticing that you weren’t there, in his dishevelled state he didn’t really think much of it, he thought you must have snuck out early to head back to your home to avoid suspicion. He knew he would see you at the family meeting he had called so he decided to get up and get to work.

He could feel the tension in the air as his family gathered around the table in the centre of the room, the first thing he noticed was your absence which rubbed him the wrong way, you never missed a meeting.

“Has anyone seem Y/n?” He asked, breaking the silence. Ada gave him a questioning look, wondering why she wouldn’t be with him like always.

“Haven’t seen her since last night” Arthur started “She was walking in the direction of her place quite late” He recalled, this intensified Tommy's worry.

“Did anyone see her make it there?” Tommy asked again, his anxiety becoming apparent to Ada.

“One of us is dead and the rest are next, they probably got to Y/n already is she was out alone at night, silly girl” Polly scoffed. With that, something in Tommy threatened to snap, the rested his hands on the table in front of him and hung his head.

“Is everything alright Tommy?” Ada asked, worried her secret sister-in-law may be in trouble.

“Is everything alright?” Tommy repeated, head sting hung “No Ada, everything is not alright” His head shot up, his eyes full of rage. “My brother is dead, someone is out to get us and for fucks sake, where the hell is my Wife?!” He yelled; silence fell over the stunted family as they process what Tommy had just confessed.

“Wife” Arthur mumbled, looking at his little brother for an answer.

“You married Y/n” Polly spoke, torn between feeling happy for them or keeping angered persona.

“I thought we were going to hold of on telling them Tom” At the sound of the sweet voice of his wife, all worry, and rage left Tommy when he turned around to see you standing in the doorway, unharmed.

“Sorry love, it slipped out” He wanted to gather her up in his arms and check her over just to really make sure you were alright, but the family was still in shock from his confession, best not to overwhelm them.

“You married sweet Y/n and didn’t tell us?” Polly asked, obviously knowing the answer.

“It wasn’t exactly the right time to call and tell you Polly, Ada knew, she was there when we married, its relatively knew and that all you need to know, can we proceed with the meeting?”

“Hold on, Ada knew? Our sister knew and I didn’t? John and Finn didn’t?” Arthur ask, still wrapping his head around everything.

“Yes Arthur, now it that all? Are we done?” Tommy asked, Polly standing and approaching you as she did.

“No, it’s not all” She started, catching everyone’s attention, especially yours. “You’re pregnant” you said very matter of a fact.

“So that is why you’re late” Ada smiled, and she got up to give you a hug. You turned to Tommy, the poor man was still trying to process everything that was going on, his eyes soon found yours.

“Surprise” your cheered sheepishly, watching as a smile formed on his handsome face, things were about to get a lot harder, but he had even more reason to keep you safe, you were growing his child and he couldn’t be more smitten with you.

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby fluff #peaky fookin blinders #tommy shelby drabble #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic

[bokettochild]

Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones

Angst! My Beloved!

Not a lot of whump here, but I put Wild through the wringer!!! Lots of BotW2 ideas and concepts here, but nothing really cannon.

Also, disclaimer: I think Flora is a wonderful person, a bit harsh and sometimes unkind, but I feel for her a lot. The prompt submitted to me however asked for her as an ass, so that's what's here, for angst reasons. THIS IS NOT HOW I PLAN ON WRITING HER NORMALLY!!!

When Wild left the Chain behind in the woods, it was with a soft smile and a hesitant wave of his right hand. It was with a gentle ‘See y’all later’ that made Warriors shake his head with a sigh while Twilight offered a wobbly grin.

He would join them again, he knew that. After all, Hylia wouldn’t have chosen him to go with them in the first place if he was only supposed to leave before they’d even really started to know what it was that they were meant to be doing.

He’d see them again, and he’d fall back into a routine with all of them, sparring with Warriors and teaching Hyrule to cook and shield surfing with Wind and learning to carve from Sky. He’d go back to sewing with Legend, to exploring with Hyrule, to learning the Ocarina with Time and teasing Twilight about his terrible singing. He could work with Four on the Sheikah Slate and experimenting with different plants he’d gathered. He would see them again, and he’d go back to being busy and smiling nearly every day.

For the time being however, he had to square his shoulders and harden his jaw as he stepped through the swirl of black that had repulsed all the others every time they tried to enter. He had to tame his mind and wild spirit and come to stand before the Princess of Hyrule in all of her stern glory and receive the scolding he was due for wandering off without permission.

He never had time to question what she meant by being gone for ‘two whole weeks’ before she was marching off towards the labs and explaining that there was a new task for them to complete.

Such a task was one that left in his mind no time for thoughts of his brothers save on the lonely nights in the sky when the islands above the clouds were silent save for the birds about him that reminded him of Sky, or when he ran across the forests and was reminded of the wolf that once ran at his side. And, alright, the tiny people in the grass and the fountains reminded him of Four and Hyrule. When the wind sang strong in his ears as he dove towards the earth from the highest places in the sky, he couldn’t help but envision a small hero whose laughter danced like the sea and who’s fingers mastered the currents of wind and sea both.

It was a lonely quest, just like his last before it, but somehow it was more painfully so, now that he knew what it was to have brothers at his side to catch a monster’s blade when he was too slow or to help him patch himself up afterwards. It was quiet when the Princess and he sat around the fires as night, she studying him as he sat still and stonelike as she worked.

The hand that had waved goodbye to his brothers now flickered green and ethereal in the night shades, iron bands clinging to the wisping appendage and acting as a bond to hold its form together. It was nothing like what he’d known or studied in the Sheikah technology, or even what he’d seen from the many worlds he’d traveled with the other, and it earned many a stare and twist of the lips from those he met and traded with during his journey.

The arm was only the first of many changes, it’s power seeping through his body and altering him before he even knew what was happening. He’d hated it at first, disliking how it changed him, made his eyes glow and his hair touch with the same ethereal shades, red bleeding through at the roots and earning him even more wary looks.

Ganon, in all his terrifying power, had been a surprising comfort during the quest, an aid to discovering his new abilities and training them to bend to his own will. The Princess had been wary of their relationship, but had accepted it when she saw what he learned to do, and every evening she would require a report of his newfound skills, as well as the occasional demonstration or examination.

It all came to an end both too soon and not soon enough.

Ganon was gone, as if he’d never been there at all, and the Princess was as cold as ever even after their second adventure at each other's sides. And now there was no use for the abilities that had fused to his soul like the arm had to his flesh. He’d asked Purah if there was something that could be done to restore his body to its normal Hylian state, without the glowing limb that earned his only stares and insults from the village people, but the Princess had overheard it and declared that such a thing should not even be attempted.

“You don’t understand, Link. Don’t be foolish! We have here a scientific marvel ready for our investigation and exploration and you want to get rid of it just because it looks odd?”

He’s shuffled his feet slowly, resisting the impulse to rub at his chest where the Hylian part of him ended and the eldritch horror began. “I can’t live like  Hylian anymore.”

“Because you aren’t one!” Her Highness rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Sir Knight, after everything I certainly doubt that Hylian even applies to you anymore! Hylians do not possess the qualities that you now do, and they most certainly do not travel through stone or time or any other such thing at will. Think would you! You’re something else entirely, and I intend to find out what that is!”

Purah had frowned at that, eyes full of sorrow as they met his own with an apologetic sigh. But there was nothing the de-aged scientist could really say against the royal Sovreign of Hyrule, not as a Sheikah sworn to the service of the royal family. The woman/girl had offered him a sympathetic pat on the head later after climbing up to reach high enough to do so, as well as a few dumplings that Paya had sent on her grandmother’s behalf the day before. It was a welcome gesture, but amounted to so little on the grand scale of life. Not when so many others he had once called his friends had so blatantly rejected the mere sight of him.

Bolson and the other carpenters shied away from him with harsh whispers as they spat insults across the distance.

‘Half-blood’.

‘Gerudo Bastard’.

‘Freak’.

‘Demon’.

There were favorite insults spread from stable to stable and up and coming village to up and coming town and slowly all of Hyrule knew of the monster that had once been the hero. Gossip abounded, and he couldn’t even turn to shield his face with his hood without drawing attention to his arm.

It was only the koroks that welcomed him, themselves all too accustomed to the strange and ethereal. Them and the blupees.

Maybe it was the knowledge of how it felt to be shot at for his oddness that allowed him to ease into the graces of the flighty animals. And maybe it was his lonely heart crying for comfort, but when nestled in their midst, it almost reminded him of how it felt to be hugged by the salty veteran, on the rare occasional that the pink-haired hero had let down his guard.

The fairy’s tangled themselves in his hair and the blupees gathered at his feet, koroks dancing around him and flying to his side as if he was some sort of forest god, but the strange rise of his spirits in their presence shattered the instant a traveler caught sight of him.

Arrows and fire, once his favorite of weapons, were turned against him as words in every language of the New Hyrule had burst from the mouths of its people, and like his namesake, he ran before them, darting through the forest and fading in amidst the trees, hiding, incorporeal and translucent within the halls of the forest as those he’d once seen as allies pushed him away.

He’d begged the new Queen for aid, for relief or even just a word to the people that he wasn’t the evil they had come to think he was, but she only waved him aside with a purse of her lips. “You are not meant to be here without first asking.” The Child of Hylia declared, eyes as cold as the Shrine’s waters themself. “And why should I make a declaration on behalf of a man who refuses to even speak to me properly? You come groveling like a worm, yet for years it was I who you ignored. See how it feels, Sir Hero, to be the one left helpless at the hands of the country. Know what it is to be scorned by those who you thought would love you.”

He’d barely made it out of the window before the trainee guards of the newly repaired Hyrule Castle had caught him and Queen Zelda Diana Hyrule had stared after him with eyes colder than Hebra’s tallest peaks.

It was the Father Tree -the Deku Tree as the Queen had called it, but the koroks laughed at him for using the name, so he’d adjusted in kind- who suggested that he hide the changes, and he’d begun to wander Hyrule as much as possible to find the materials he would have needed.

The Queen still required his presence regularly so she could inspect him; her love of science no ways tainted as to stop her from ordering him to appear regularly, as there was now no need or safety in his acting as her guard. The Queen sought her people’s respect, and to employ such a being as himself, not Hylian and not quite mortal, would be to spark fear in the people. Indeed, when he skirted villages, he would wince at word of ‘the queen’s monster’ as gossip was traded. Those who didn’t see him themselves knew him as a beast of feral nature who lived amid the lost woods and destroyed any who came close.

“A specter that glows with the light of the shrines.” They would tell each other over campfires. “It has eyes like a ghost, empty and lost, with no care for humanity or Hylia’s chosen. They say it was once the Hero of this world, but he died ages ago.”

“I heard it’s the body, possessed by a being beyond this realm, a monster escaped from the edges of reality that tried to hide in our midst but corrupted it’s host so that it only scares away others, leaving it roam the earth in a shattered body. If you get too close to it though, it’ll take your instead.”

He’d stayed away from towns after that.

The blupees and koroks had been happy to help him to find what he needed to hide among the Hylians should he wish though, and two in particular guided him; the korok swinging little twigs like they were batons and humming swinging little shanties as it hopped along the path, the blupee snorting softly and nipping at his heels when he wandered too far, unnatural purple eyes staring up at him with something that was fondness and a reprimand all at once, and in their care he’d made his way across the land of Hyrule to find what would be needed to return to his once life.

The fairies and their Great cousins had been welcome help, and in time, he’d been able to walk amid the populace of Hyrule like any other, as long as he kept a long cloak about him and his hair pulled back to hide where the roots would begin showing again in gold and ethereal blue.

Once Hyrule had talked about needing to hide in his world, about the curse that followed him and made the Hylian people afraid. He’d thought it bizarre and ridiculous of the people at the time, but now he understood what it was to live it.

When the portal opened beneath his feet the day that the Queen had reprimanded him for concealing and potentially damaging the strange limb, startling the Skeikah scientists and Queen both, he’d nearly cried tears of relief.

He was going away, somewhere where he wasn’t a science project and where, unless they traveled to his world’s future, no one would know how much he had changed. His copy of the slate had enough hair dye to last him a few months, and he was certain he could make more over time, and as long as he continued wearing the tunics and gloves the fairies had helped him to adjust to hide the glow the others would probably never catch on. Or well, he could extend it anyway.

His brothers greeted him with open arms and teary eyes, and in a strange parallel to his adventure, he found himself thinking of blupees when Legend had curled against him, stiff and cold on the outside, but with fingers that clutched his tunic just a bit too tight to really be reluctant. And Four, Hyrule and Wind’s exuberant hugs and chatter brought to mind tiny forest people and koroks with twigs for batons.

It was good to be home.

It was good to cook for other people again, and they were glad to have him cook for them, even if his fondness for both Gerudo spiced dishes and fae like sweet things had increased exponentially during his newest adventure. It was good to fight at their sides, even if it was strange to once again have to take others into account before he could select a weapon. It was good to sit around a fire and talk with the others too, but that was perhaps the hardest one; it had been ages since he’d had a proper two-way conversation with anything other than a tree or a korok, and neither of those was good at either staying awake or staying focused for very long.

There were some harder things to adjust to though. Fire, for one. Unlike before when he’d have been happy to burn an enemy camp to the ground, now he was wary of using faming weapons or spreading heat further than necessary. The same went for hunting; he couldn’t bring himself to shoot an animal unless it attacked first or they needed the meat it would provide, and even then, he felt a bit bad for doing so. Is this what Twilight had felt like? Is this why the rancher never liked hunting? Because he too knew what it was like to be on the other end of the bow?

But the hardest thing by far to readjust to was his name.

‘Wild’ they had called him again, and after months of ‘the wild one’, ‘wild beast’, ‘monster’ and every other insult, slur or title that had been used on him, it made him flinch ever so slightly at the words. And unlike the other things where his brothers dismissed it as a change caused by his adventure or an increase of maturity, it was something that the others seemed to either not notice or to excuse as situational.

He had adapted though, learned to keep a smile on his face where blankness had once been required in his knightly duties, and the more he wore the mask the easier it was to put on again.

He’d reveled in traveling across time again, in dancing through battles and exploring the world without the Queen reprimanding him in her cold tones to stop wandering off. He’d pushed himself to learn more music in the last adventure, and even if his experience was more with what few instruments Ganon had had time to help him learn, he’d enjoyed sitting down with the others and borrowing one or another instrument to play a tune and sometimes he even got to sing.

He fell to comfortably into his role though, even with the changes, and he hadn’t even noticed when they’d come back to his world. To be fair, it was different in the daytime, and Hyrule had changed so much in the absence of her hero as he hid himself away from the eyes of civilization. Towns and roads had sprung up where there had only been fields before, and the Guardians that had littered the land had all been dug up and hauled to the castle to be either restored or destroyed by the Sheikah, depending on what Queen Zelda decided after she looked at them herself. The world was so different to him, so unlike that which he knew, that he’d failed to keep as alert as he ought to have been when he wandered about an open market with the others, laughing and chattering away with the other younger ones as Time and Legend herded them towards the needed stalls.

It was a traveler that was his downfall, a man who’d seen the Monster Hero and had been among the first to discover the disguise he wore.

No questions were asked when the word spread, and Wild hadn’t caught on to the whispers until a stone had struck his cheek and he was stumbling forwards on the path.

“Wild!” Twilight was at his side in a minute, Time right after him as Legend launched a barrage of insults at the guilty party who’d thrown the thing.

“’m fine.” He was careful to wipe the blood away with his cloak, holding the fabric to the wound to prevent bluish blood seeping down his face and exposing him to his brothers. He wanted to keep them as long as possible and proving himself to be a monster, not even Hylian, would surely have them turning their backs on him.

“Get away from him!” A woman scolded, grabbing ahold of two of the younger heroes while several other shoppers had like ways grabbed Legend and Sky. “Are you dears alright? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“Freaking what?” Legend shrieked. “Who’s the injured party here?”

“I’d avoid that thing, son.” A man huffed through a frankly walrus like mustache, eyes hard as they trailed to where Wild stood, cloak still pressed to his cheek as he attempted to wave off a fussing Twilight and Time. “It’s not natural. Sure, it looks like a normal Hylian, but that’s just an effective ruse.”

Another villager nodded. “It’s one of the Calamity’s puppets, a Gerudo-Bastard set on destroying the kingdom!”

“He’s the freaking hero!” Legend shrieked, barely being held back by a steely eyed Sky. “He saved all your freaking asses and all you can do is insult his flipping guts? Who’s the-”

“Enough.” There were few times that Sky’s voice reached levels worse than Twilight’s growls, but the stern command, regal and firm, froze all present as the man stiffened with a cold nod towards the villagers. “I see we are unwelcome here, and with that being the case it would be wise to spend our rupees elsewhere. Legend,” A tug to the boy’s shoulders. “Let’s join the others and be out of their hair. If they cannot be welcoming and kind to our brother than they will not receive our patronage.” And like a swan gathering it’s cygnets, Sky swept down the street, cape fluttering as he ushered the rest of them out of the town and back to the safety of the wilds. The village stared after them with wide eyes, as if they’d just been judged by a breathing god.

The stiffness in Sky’s shoulders faded as they neared the edge of the forest, and instantly the Chosen Hero been tutting over Wild, gently but firmly prying his hand away from his face with a kind smile that almost set Wild at ease. Almost.

“It’s fine, it’s just a scrape.”

“Still.” Sky crooned softly. “I’d rather we clean it up now and make sure it’s nothing worse than let it sit and get infected later.”

And though he’d tried to fight, his single Hylian hand was no match for the firm grip of the Skyloftian, and within minutes his face was exposed to the shocked faces and flickering eyes of his brothers.

“It’s blue...” Wind breathed as Hyrule darted forwards, hands already glowing softly only for them to stutter to a stop over Wild’s skin.

“It’s... Wild, why is your blood- why is-” The healer’s eyes had flickered golden for a moment, wide as they stared up at him. “What happened to you-”

“What the freak!” Legend had startled, blinking in surprise as he stared. “Your eyes are glowing!”

Shit! The healing properties of the arm had already taken affect and it was making everything act up all weird! He shot a glance down at his arm, one hand raising to tangle in the long hair he couldn’t even see at the moment, praying silently beneath his breath that nothing was showing through. It wasn’t, but that didn’t change how Hyrule had come to fixate on his right arm, or how the healer's fingers hovered over it sparking and eyes twinkling as he whispered softly under his breath.

“Wild.” Time had sighed. “I think this one is going to need an explanation.”

All the breath left his lung in instants.

He’d panicked to say the least and Time had eventually shooed the others away to make camp as the eldest hero had sat at his side, waiting silently for him to regulate his breathing. Touch was too much right now, and any attempts from the others to ease him down or help him level out his breathes had only made him panic more. But when at last his blue eyes blinked back to clarity it was to see Time sitting at his side, a gentle tune wafting from the Ocarina at his lips.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, trying his hardest not to startle Time or otherwise make the situation worse. “I should have said something, I know. I just- missed being Wild and I wanted to come back and be normal and I didn’t want to-”

“It’s alright.” Time’s voice rumbled softly, a single blue eye turning to him with a pained look, even as the man offered him a hint of a smile. “None of us talk about our adventures either.”

“Yes, but you’re people.” He sighed, rubbing the fingers of his glove together. “You’re allowed to choose things.”

There was pain in Time’s voice when their leader answered. “And you’re not?”

“I’m not Hylia anymore.” He whispered. “I don’t count.”

“You count to us.”

“That’s because you don’t know.”

Time shifted, turning to face him fully as the ocarina was set firmly in the grass. “That’s because you’re family and we care. Wild, I don’t care if Demise himself named you the king of the dead, you’re still my kid and Nayru knows I’m not going to let you go without a fight. If that means fighting you, alright, but you’d best better believe that no amount of physical or mental changes will break the bonds we all have with you.”

Something, something damaged and crushed and stitched up and torn open again clenched inside of him, tears pricking at his eyes as he stared up at Time’s royal blue gaze. “W-what?”

“You could be granted godhood, made a monster, I don’t care. You’re ours and you’ll have to deal with that.” Time smiled, warm even with the pain in his eyes as he looked down at him. “So how about you start again, maybe with the facts rather than the insults. Or,” Time softened, brows furrowing lightly. “If you want, we can just sit here and you can choose to talk about this later. We do need to know, so we can help you and keep you safe, but you don’t have to tell us right now. You can take some time to figure out what you want to say if you need.”

And, well, shoot him, but Time’s arms had always been a safe place and there was one thing he’d wanted more than anything since he had come back. Wild threw himself into his grand-mentor's arms with a soft sob, clutching tightly to the other, ignoring the armor and its sharp points and awkward shapes as he tried to hold back all the emotions swirling in his chest.

Time’s arms folding around him broke the floodgates though, and when the man’s hand had stroked through his shortened hair, he’d had to bury his face in Tim’s neck to muffle his sobs.

“There, there,” Time hummed softly, rocking slowly as he held the broken wild hero. “Let it out, little one. I have you, I’ve got you and I’m not letting anyone hurt you.”

#whumptober 2021 #linkeduniverse #linked universe #idiot writes angst #idiot writes whump #lu wild #lu time #lu sky #lu legend #sky is scary when he's mad #wild whump #botw2 #botw2 theories #mean flora #flora bashing #zelda botw bashing #I ACUALLY LOVE FLORE PLS DON'T HATE ME!!!! #father time

[kkeidawrites]

AHHH idk rlly know if you still do requests but if u still do could u do Adrian tepes x black reader

Where after the battle in season 2 reader initially went with sypha and trevor to help them with whatever they were gonna do but y/n ends missing adrian (and was tired of those to goofing all the time) so in the dead of night y/n takes some supplies and runs back to the castle. And when she sees the castle in sight she throws open the doors and starts looking for alucard

(Fluff)

Ur account is like my safe place I don't find many black readers/ writers so I absolutely love your posts ❤❤

Thank you so much for saying that I do try when I write and I want people to be inspired to write more black reader stories or actually more black leads in stories’ I’m not sure if you wanted the reader to be male/female or gender neutral, so you can decide as you read along! And yes, I am still open to requests!

$$$$$$$$$$$$$&$$$$$$$$$$$$$&$$$$$$$$$$

It was like a breath of fresh air when Y/n saw the looming infamous castle of Walachia. Y/N had made the decision to leave with Trevor and Sypha, thinking it was the best decision. But was it? As the covered wagon rolled down the dirt path leading away from the castle, Y/N felt her heart break.

Y/N could tell as the three of them departed the widowed dhampir, that he did not want them to leave. As Y/N thought about it, after being away for two weeks, that when Dracula’s reign had ended, Trevor and Sypha felt that they needed to leave right after. Y/N thought their abrupt departure was selfish both on their part and on Y/N’s as well.

Y/N still didn’t know what the original plan was in the first place when getting on that wagon with Sypha and Trevor. Y/N felt it was the right thing to do. Was it the right thing to do? The question constantly whispered in Y/N’s head.

The wagon stopped one evening and Trevor suggested that they rest here and continue on to Argeis come morn. Sypha noticed Y/N’s quiet nature that evening, usually when she and Trevor were arguing or playful banter, Y/N would chime in but it seemed that entire week, her playful quips wasn’t heard as much as Sypha thought.

It concerned the Speaker and she questioned if there was anything wrong. Y/N gave off a wavered yes of being alright and told the Speaker that only the thoughts rattling in the mind was all that was wrong.

Sypha didn’t question Y/N anymore and rolled over in the wagon to get some much needed and deserved sleep. Y/N opted to sleep outside to ponder the thoughts plaguing them. Twisting and turning in the sleeping bag, didn’t help at all and Y/N sat up with a huff.

Y/N felt anxious. This wasn’t the life planned out, not like this, not alone. Well, other than Trevor and Sypha’s presence, Y/N felt alone in the Wallachian world.

Where Y/N forlorn, the color of your skin was dark and your hair was kinky and coiled. The heat of the country seemed like second nature and the many animals that roamed and only seen in that country was its own majesty.

Someone completely different than what you saw in Walachia. Y/N was born to a single mother, their father had been killed by those accursed night monsters and since then Y/N had made it their mission to become a strong dual swordsman, studying under the elders of the people under the sun and learning the medicines that would keep them alive in this world.

Y/N and Alucard’s meet was an interesting one. Their initial meeting was when the trio were on their way to Dracula’s castle and night creatures had made their appearance in Gresit where Y/N was vacating after evacuating Lupu.

Y/N was fighting off the monsters in Gresit and saved a couple of children when the trio arrived and made light work of the rest. Y/N didn’t want anyone to know that they existed and made haste to leave in the shadows to avoid the people most importantly the church.

In the past, Y/N’s mother was subjected by the church in Lupu for her darker skin. Believing that such dark skin was the skin of a demon raised from Hell to walk along humans. Y/N’s mother, a spitfire set the priest straight and told him if Devil wanted to have her raise death and destruction on Earth then he would have asked for it already.

It also didn’t help the fact that the priest’s goons would come after Y/N and Y/N’s mother, harassing them all the time and trying to run them out of town. Y/N’s mother always stood strong and fought those goons off whenever they tried to get physical; sending them back to their puppet master with their strings twisted.

So, it was no surprise when Y/N had met the trio by accidentally running into the dhampir while attempting to escape through an alley. His solid figure made Y/N’s hood fall off their head and the coils of their hair is what brought the attention of the trio.

Alucard made a comment, curious about the coils, it was almost childlike when he asked. Y/N was thrown off guard by the question and made haste to leave the area quietly but the speaker stopped Y/N asking if they were familiar with the area and where they could get a covered wagon.

Y/N didn’t answer her question and moved to leave once more only to be stopped once more, by the dhampir again. His calm demeanor and honeyed words brought Y/N’s attention to the man. At first, Y/N mind was not on talking to anyone but, once their eyes found Alucard’s gold ones Y/N was intrigued.

As a help them help you situation, Y/N was persuaded by Sypha to help them end Dracula’s murderous reign and Y/N agreed. Y/N didn’t care if Alucard was the son of Dracula, it was the fact that Y/N’s mother lived in Argeis and the thought of her killed by the creatures of the night didn’t sit right.

In the little time the four were together, it seemed that Alucard and Y/N were the first to interact with one another more than Sypha and Trevor. They could relate with one another in a way, both their mothers strong, smart and knowing that helping people no matter the ideas they had or if they didn’t want it, was deserved to anyone.

When his father had died, Y/N was there by his side to shield him from the swirling ashes of hell demons as a way to let him know that it was alright to grieve his father.

Y/N had made her decision. Staying with Trevor and Sypha was fun but, this wasn’t the life Y/N sought for.

Going to the wagon, Y/N swiped a small bag of food, just some cheeses and bread and left behind a quick note to Sypha and a little joke to Trevor’s smell then left to return to the castle.

Presently, Y/N walked up the stone steps to the large double doors of the castle and didn’t care to knock. Pushing open the doors, Y/N marveled the recently cleaned up entrance hall, the furnished red rugs were either burnt or ripped and the statues were all destroyed.

“Alucard?” Y/N calls and makes haste to the twin stairwell.

Now that they were here, Y/N needed to find the dhampir and tell him how sorry they were for leaving him behind. For leaving him alone.

“Alucard!” Y/N made their way up the two flights of stairs, searching for the dhampir.

Where could he have gone? Y/N’s mind scrambled for any explanation or idea as to where he could have gone.

“The Hold!” Y/N exclaimed and rushed down the two flights, hoping that he would not leave in time for Y/N to find him.

However, as soon as Y/N reached the entrance hall, the man of the hour was walking up the right side of the two stairwells and paused on the third step up, his eyes wide from realization of Y/N’s sudden appearance. His right hand gripped the small yellow basket and Y/N’s eyes widened then lowered in relief.

“Alucard…there you are.” Y/N sighed, grateful that he was alright and made their way down the same stairwell to see him closer.

“I was worried something happened to you, you know this castle is big as hell-”

“Y/N.” Alucard’s quiet gasp of their name made Y/N grin as they grew closer to him.

“I think being with Sypha and Trevor for too long has made you forget me, Alucard. That’s not nice. I thought we were friends? You don’t forget your friends-”

Arms wrapped around Y/N’s waist and a warm body hugged their front as Alucard sighed into Y/N’s coily hair, inhaling their scent to make himself sure that they were real and here in his arms.

“I could never forget you, Y/N…never ever.” He told Y/N. Y/N arms wrapped around him just as snug and rubbed their cheek into his bird chest, a smile gracing their lips.

“Will you stay?” His question makes Y/N look up at him and their smile grows wider as they nodded.

“Yes. I will stay.”

#castlevania #fanfiction #alucard #my writing #black reader #black!reader #adrian tepes #castlevania!alucard x reader #black oc

[aziraphales-library]

Hey so I’m looking for the best pining/mutual pining, angst ridden, oh-my-god-my-soul-is-on-fire fics that hurts so good.

Gimme that 6000 years of slow burn goodness. Like a drunkard in a bottle shop there’s just so many options out there I don’t know where to start!

Thank you in advance!

Here are a few drops in the ocean of 6000 year slow burn fics...

The Truth Remains by WanderingAlice (M)

Raphael had been the third angel ever created, and he’d raised himself first with Michael’s clumsy help. Then he’d turned around and raised three more siblings, and loved them all so fiercely it hurt. He'd loved Aziraphale too, more than either of them really knew.

And then, he fell. He lost everything. The bond he held with his siblings was ripped away, leaving an aching, empty void. And while he still has Aziraphale, the angel doesn't recognize the archangel who taught him how to care about the Earth. And Crowley refuses to tell him who he was, or how Aziraphale's voice is the one thing that can soothe the ache in his soul that wants, so badly, to feel a connection again.

A story through the ages as an angel and a demon come to terms with their shared past.

Souvenirs by CaspianTheGeek (T)

Crowley has always collected souvenirs. Post Apocanot, Aziraphale starts to really explore his flat for the first time. And Crowley is finally sharing the stories behind all of the things he's collected.

"He didn’t expect the angel to take him up on his offer. He certainly didn’t expect him to take him up on it without any sort of argument. But then Aziraphale was there, sitting next to him, leaning into his chest, Crowley’s arm around him. Both of them sipping the wine. Crowley had never been happier, nor more terrified.

“Dear, I, uh, noticed something while I was getting the wine and I hope it’s not too forward of me to ask, but” Aziraphale trailed off.

“What is it, angel?”

“That statue down the hall, is it from the church during the Blitz?”

Crowley froze. He’d forgotten that statue was in plain view, and that Aziraphale would recognize it. Crowley had a habit of collecting what he termed souvenirs. That one was one of his particular favorites."

I don't foresee this going extra angsty, but Crowley is Crowley so there's going to be some angst and pining. I don't expect this to go explicit, but I make no promises. I'll update the tags if need be.

All I Wants (Is You) by amavyllis (G)

The angel is afraid they’ll be punished, that the righteous divinity of heaven will smite him down and that everything he holds dear will be taken from him in one swift moment. (And, he fears, somewhere deeply hidden inside his heart, of what it would mean if they touched, if they lingered, if it meant something.) The demon is just afraid.

So—they don’t touch.

(It doesn’t mean they don’t want to.)

Yours from the start by chamyl (E)

Nobody would suspect that Aziraphale, reluctant Principality and fidgety Guardian of the Eastern Gate of Eden, would have a tryst with a demon. This is a good thing. It means they’re less likely to get caught. “You’re about to say yes, angel,” murmurs the serpent behind him, hot breath against the shell of his ear and hands lost inside Aziraphale’s mint-green silk robe. “I can feel it.”

🍎

In which Crowley and Aziraphale have been sleeping together since Eden and somehow still manage to pine after each other for six thousand years.

An Angel and a Demon's Beginners' Guide to Ineffability by elf_on_the_shelf (M)

What if 6000 years of mutual pining isn't enough and we get to have more? Supernatural entities can be as oblivious as the rest of us. Sometimes, even more so. Or, more plainly put: This is going to be the slowest of slowburns. Anathema, Adam and Warlock want those two walking disasters getting together. Unfortunately, our main protagonists are being rather dense. Also unfortunately both Heaven and Hell want to see them punished for what they did. Actually, Heaven a lot more then Hell, seeing as angels are being a bunch of holier-than-thou knobs. Will figure a lot of God content in later chapters.

(Slow) Burn, Baby, Burn by orchidlocked (E)

It's the 1970's, baby. Polyester is in, and so is finding a healthy outlet for 6000 years of repressed feelings for your best friend. Our story starts a few years after Aziraphale tells Crowley he goes too fast. Our favorite demon roams across Europe and America, accidentally becoming both a music producer and a DJ in the process. These two lovestruck fools will eventually work it out, I promise. A slooooooow burn, complete with a disco playlist that will have you saying, "Why the fuck do people say they hate disco?"

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #slow burn #6000 year slow burn #pining #angst #mod d

[foilfreak]

Beauty and Her Beast: Summary and Ch.1

A Salvatore Moreau x Female!FishMutant!oc fic based on this idea I had the other day that a very specific subset of the fanfom went absolutely apeshit for, which I'm here for and decided to act on. I can't make any promises for consistent uploading or even a finishes product by the end of this, but so long as im still interested in working on it, I'll keep working on it, and if im not, then I wont, plain and simple. Anyways, here's the summary and chapter 1, please let me know what you think of the story so far, i hope you all enjoy (you'd better all enjoy), and I can't wait to see you all again for chapter 2. Bye! <333 (Link to ao3 posting will be in comments so check there if you want to read it there instead)

Warning: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

Summary:

Now, I’m sure everyone already knows the ancient tales that tell of a beautiful young woman slowly falling in love with a horrific monstrosity of a man. The pure and true love this innocent beauty comes to feel for him, despite his terrifying appearance, is the key that breaks the cruel and twisted curse under which he’d been kept prisoner. This allows the man behind the monster to not only return to his true human form, but then go on to live his Happily Ever After with the beauty who saved him. Everyone already knows of these tales, as well as the messages behind them, however that is not quite the way this particular tale plays out.

The tale I am about to tell bears many similarities to the one above, however there are also quite a few important differences. For while the original detailed a beauty falling for a monster because of the kind and loving man he was behind his hideous exterior, this is a tale of a beauty, with a few monstrous qualities of her own, falling in love with a kind and loving monster, not at all despite his grotesque appearance, but rather, in part, because of it.

This is a tale, where the Beast still falls for his Beauty first, but the Beauty is the one who will be pursuing her Beast.

Chapter 1: Mother's Gift

Few of those who lived isolated from the outer world, high up in the mountains of Romania, would expect anyone of reasonable sanity to be out traveling in this hellish sort of weather. The wind howling a demonic high pitched tune; snow, sleet, and hail pounding into the ground like an endless shower of bullets from the heavens; and hungry lycans still roaming the area, tirelessly looking for their next meal, would be enough to incentivize even the strongest of mortal men to seek shelter away from the deadly conditions of the outside.

A man by the name of Salvatore Moreau however, one of the 4 lords of this mountain region who lived in the reservoir just past the windmills, did not appear terribly concerned with what other people thought of the traveling conditions. Completely unbothered by the horrifying weather and threat of suddenly being ground into doggy food, the hooded man trudged his way through the dark and barely maintained snow paths. Starting at the reservoir and making his way toward the village, Salvatore moved as quickly as his deformed body would permit, an unusually chipper spring added to his lumbering hobble of a walk.

Mother had a gift for him.

Yes, a truly joyous day it was whenever Mother Miranda called upon him to join her and the other lords for a meeting. Miranda was usually so busy with her experiments that she rarely had time to visit her children outside of these ‘family meetings’ they’d been having recently. However, it would appear as though Mother has come up with a solution of some kind to this problem and wishes to share it with them in person. Whatever this solution is, the mutated man has no idea, as Mother Miranda had been quite vague in her message, however the fact that Salvatore was being given the chance to see his radiant mother AND receive a gift from her, all in one day, was more than enough to make up for how agonizingly lonely he’s been these last few months since winter set in, as well as how agonizing it was for him to walk in this weather.

Salvatore arrived at the usual meeting site just as the clock struck 8pm, precisely as Mother had instructed. However, much to the hooded man’s confusion, when he turned the handle on the large wooden door to enter the room, he quickly realized that he was currently the only one present. This was especially strange considering that, usually, at least one of his siblings was always present a little earlier than necessary, usually Alcina or Karl, but occasionally Donna with Angie in tow.

Mother had clearly said in her message that she wanted to start the meeting at 8pm sharply, so where on earth is everyone?

“Moreau” Mother Miranda’s voice called out, immediately pushing all thoughts from Salvatore’s brain as her powerful, yet lucious voice echoed against the halls of the room like a choir of angels.

“Y-yes! W-what… is it… M-mother Miranda? I-i-i came to you… j-just like you asked” Salvatore responds, bowing his head in reverence as he slowly crosses the room and approaches the otherworldly woman.

“So you did, though I suppose you coming exactly when I call makes the most sense. You always were the most obedient of my children” the woman remarks with casual disdain, her voice devoid of any sort of motherly affection or tenderness. Despite the clear disgust and disregard with which Miranda regards the hooded man standing before her, her words light Salvatore’s soul ablaze, filling his mangled body with intense feelings of heat and desire that melt his heart of the cold, icy frost that had frozen it over the course of the long winter.

“Y-y-yes, y-yes of c-course, Mother M-Miranda! I-i would… I would do any-anything... for y-you. A-anything you s-say... anything y-you n-need… I’d d-do it... f-for you. W-without question!” The deformed man says, practically getting on his hands and knees and crawling as he neared closer and closer to Miranda, stopping only when he’d arrived just in front of the steps the raven mother stood upon, his gaze trained at the ground as he knelt at her feet, awaiting his fate at his mother’s hands.

“I know you would, Moreau,” Miranda says cooly, gently brushing the palm of her hand against the black fabric that covers the top of Salvatore’s head, “which is why I’ve called you here today; to reward you for your loyalty and service to me thus far.”

Salvatore sinks sharp and jagged teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood as he desperately tries to silence the needy whine that wanted to tear its way from the back of his throat. His body shivered and twitched in unimaginable delight from the sudden tender caress to his sensitive skin. How long had it been since someone had touched him so gently? How long since someone had spoken to him with such kind and soft words. Took the time to gather presents as a reward for years of faithful servitude? How long since someone had loved him like this?

‘Too long’ the disfigured man sighed to himself, reveling in the soft, gentle contact for as long as he is able.

“Moreau. Look at me” Miranda commanded firmly, and despite not wanting his beloved Mother to be forced to bear witness to his hideous face, he complied, lifting his head up and back to allow his gaze to lift from the floor and up at the glowing figure that was his Mother, his beautiful, incredible, intelligent, majestic mother.

The light shining down from above illuminates Miranda from behind. From Salvatore’s perspective on the floor, the light darkens her face and most of her torso and waist, giving a softened, almost ethereal glow around Miranda’s figure. This, along with the rest of her garb, makes Mother Miranda appear even more like the holy woman that Salvatore naively believes she still is. Despite her less than affectionate treatment of him thus far, Salvatore still stared up at the darkened face of Mother Miranda, his eyes shining with reverence, love, desire, and unending devotion.

“Y-yes... Mother?” Salvatore breathed, barely able to speak above a whisper as Miranda stepped away, gesturing for him to follow.

“Are you ready to collect your gift now?” The raven mother asks, speaking more softly than before and even holding her hand out to Salvatore, her pose and appearance mirroring that of a powerful god taking mercy upon her wretched follower, reaching out to reward the years of faithful servitude and worship.

Salvatore, barely able to keep himself calm as he stumbled to his feet, did not grace Mother Miranda’s question with a proper response, instead practically racing to take the woman’s outstretched hand in his own.

“I’m ready Mother… I-I’m ready for... my g-gift now… can I… c-can I have it n-now… p-please?” Salvatore begs, pulling at Miranda’s hand like an overly excited child, seemingly unaware of the disgusted twist of her face when the hooded man’s cold, slimy fingers firmly latched onto hers.

“Of course, my child” Mother Miranda says, pulling her hand back from Salvatore’s and instead placing it along the man’s hunched back, beginning to guide him to wherever it was the raven mother had hidden his gift.

As Salvatore limped next to Mother Miranda, the deformed man couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was that Mother had gotten for him. Was it a new cloak, to replace the worn one he was currently wearing? Perhaps a new set of romance films so he didn’t have to rewatch the ones he already owned over and over again anymore? Or maybe it was something to help with his digestion?

It would be nice to get his chronic acid reflux under control again.

Regardless of what the gift actually turned out to be however, Salvatore was merely pleased that he was finally getting a chance to spend time with Mother Miranda all by himself for a change.

Maybe, if he was lucky, she’d even agree to hold him, just like she always did back when he was still undergoing cadou treatment.

Oh how wonderful that would be!

#salvatore moreau #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil 8 village #resident evil 8: village #mother miranda #beauty and her beast #fic #mine #chapter 1 #re8 #re8 village #re village #salvatore moreau x reader #moreau x reader #moreau x oc #salvatore moreau x oc

[oven-thermometer]

How to conquer Death's heart? 🤍

You probably wanted something more…specific - but I present to you angst, fluff and Death dealing with his issues :>

Warnings: angst, reader has a bad mental health, mentions blood and a smidgen of violence.

When death met you, the first interaction you two had was him saving you from a hoard of demons. You passed out from sheer exhaustion and terror while he was still fighting - he found you and contemplated taking you to the angels roaming the streets of your former home town, but decided against it. They had caused the deaths of countless before you, why would they be concerned with one more? Even if that one more was one of the last humans. One of the last living, breathing human beings on all of Earth. He mulled over this thought while staring at your blood-smeared features. Your shallow breathing drumming in his ears, it felt as if each pull of oxygen you took scraped it’s way up your throat, the sound made during your breaths confirming his suspicions that you obviously weren’t in the best of conditions. This much was expected considering your tattered clothes and the dark rings under your eyes.

A cawing broke Death’s train of thought. Dust was about as big as your entire torso, his beak and claws would make quick work of you if he allowed it - said magical crow was hungry after all. Thankfully enough for you though, Death quickly banished him with a flick of the wrist. Saving your life for the second time in five minutes. Death looked around, the broken pieces of concrete, wood and plaster making a dust settle around everything once again – one of the demons had set a bomb off that seriously affected the structural integrity of your so-called hideout. Had this been your hideout? Or were you running? Well, whatever it was, it was all destroyed now.

The next few days were spent adjusting to the fact that you were both the last human on Earth and that the reason was because of an age old war between Heaven and Hell. You were in shock, of course, all of your family and friends had been ripped from you. You felt so lonely, even with another being with you. Ah yes, the being. The Grim Reaper had saved you from death, a sentence you had never thought you’d have to come to terms with. Your mental state was slowly deteriorating. Death suspected this, and he didn’t really know what to do. He had been through a lifetime of pain and anguish but he’s never had to pat anyone on the back and tell them he’s there if they need him. He was rather indifferent towards you, feeling awkward about knowing of your mental state but being able to do little about it.

After a few months, you had gotten more comfortable, as comfortable as you could get anyways. Your mental state was still in utter disarray but you had built a resolve good enough to deal with it, in your opinion anyways. Death took this as an improvement though, he saw it as you adjusting to things. He still protected you as fiercely as before, but he didn’t see a need to be as ‘emotionally available’ as he was trying to be before. Death then proceeded to draw away from you. For eons, had he been alone. He isn’t going to warm up to you overnight and that is something you’ll just have to accept.

More months have passed, you two were closer to the Well of Souls. After closing himself to you, Death expected you to close yourself – why would you do anything else? Although, you stayed, you stayed both by his side physically and emotionally. You’d crack jokes, help him find odd trinkets for Vulgrim or Karn and he was beginning to accept he preferred having you around more than anyone else. This confused him to no end. In his long, long life he has had many romantic conquests but none of them ever really meant anything. These partners were in his younger years to be fair but he continued to hate himself for how he used and manipulated others. This made him very insecure about ever being able to be anything more than companions with you. Not necessarily partners, he knew he wasn’t ready for that, but possibly friends? That phrase felt so foreign to him.

You continued to worm your way into his heart, not even he could figure out how or even why you kept trying. You kept making him more and more acquainted with being happy again. He never did find out how you achieved this. Even years later.

Death was trying so hard not to welcome you into his cold heart. It was entirely out of concern for you though. How safe could his jagged heart be? He knew it would be harrowing but he also craved having you around. It made the dark days fewer and farther apart.

All in all, the general way to conquer Death’s heart is patience, lots and lots of patience. After all, the best things in life take the longest, and Death will make sure you’re aware of how much he loves you. Every day. Whether it’s a small gesture, a brush of his hand on your back or a bouquet of spectral flowers of unknown origin, left on your nightstand - all without a word.

#I need a nap #I feel like I just wrote a wikihow guide on how to romance the grim reaper #death #darksiders 2 #fanfiction #fanfic #death x reader #darksiders fanfiction #darksiders #darksiders death #anon ask #thanks for the ask!

[delicioussshame]

[cries in fandom] I was supposed to work tonight and instead I wrote more of yesterday’s fic because I had the idea and couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

Shen Qingqiu isn’t an empty nester. He has plenty of disciples still running around the peak, eager to learn and keeping him very busy.

It’s just that the generation that was already there when he arrived, Ning Yingying, Ming Fan and the others, are now fully grown cultivators, spending most of their time roaming the world on their own quests.

They bring him pride each time they visit, usually gifting him with obscure artefacts and rare volumes he spends days pouring over. It doesn’t quite make up for their absence, but it helps.

Still, he would have preferred Ning Yingying gift him something else the last time she visited.

He, of course, knew she would eventually cross paths with Luo Binghe. She was bound to. After much pondering, he had decided not to interfere. Her occasional visits to Luo Binghe weren’t enough to hurt her cultivation, and anyway Luo Binghe was usually careful not to let Xin Mo gorge enough to leave traces, especially on trained cultivators. She’d be fine.

Plus, when Luo Binghe would tire of hiding in plain sight and reveal his status as leader of the Demon Realm, his fondness for her would protect her from the consequences Shen Qingqiu himself might face.

He would probably be fine though. He’d just have to take a less adversarial take than his predecessor, who had fought to the death to “protect his disciple from the beast”.

Or he’d thought he would, until Ning Yingying, with a blinding smile that radiated unblemished innocence, had told her she’d booked him a session with her A-Luo, because, to hear her say it, he needed it.

He had been tempted to expel her on sight. Don’t thrown Shen Qingqiu into the maws of the beast! He doesn’t have your youthful beauty or girlish charms!

He hadn’t. Ning Yingying is just too caring. She hadn’t realised that just because she very much enjoyed Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu might not feel the same. Wrong tree. Because if he were attracted to men, which he was not, what a ridiculous notion, he would have made a move himself. Luo Binghe is soft on his favorite clients. He’d have nothing to lose by endearing himself to him.

Too bad he’s not interested. He had to refuse him.

He’d thought he knew what to expect when he’d gone to reject the offer as politely as he could. It wouldn’t do to offend him.

Sadly, all the foreknowledge of the world hadn’t been quite enough to shield himself from his unnatural charisma. He’d made a fool of himself, practically running out to escape the protagonist’s aura. Luo Binghe, how terrifying! His poor disciple had stood no chance!

Anyway, he can admit he is occasionally lonely. He misses his dear Yingying and his first disciple, whom, for all his flaws, Shen Qingqiu had grown fond of. It wasn’t impossible for Ning Yingying to have noticed, and to have tried to offer him company. Totally misguided, but understandable.

When he hears a commotion outside, he instantly goes to check it out. Maybe it will break his monotony.

He immediately regrets it. Why, why on earth are Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge fighting with enough strength that they could easily kill his terrorised disciples here on his peak! It’s way too early for Luo Binghe to have come out of the demonic closet! And why is he even here!

Shen Qingqiu turns towards his closest disciple. “What is happening here.”

The poor girl jumps at his tone. “Shizun! I’m sorry, I’m not sure, we heard rumours that Luo Binghe was at the sect, so we were curious, but Liu-shishu showed up and it devolved into a fight. I don’t know why.”

Huh. So Liu Qingge made the first move? Quite possible. He might have wanted to protect his sister’s honor.

That should be manageable. He raises his voice. “Fighting on my peak isn’t allowed. Stop at this instant.”

To his surprise, both swords freeze.

Shen Qingqiu despairs for this world’s mob characters. How come no one wonders why a courtesan can keep up with Liu Qingge? Why can’t they notice how Xin Mo oozes with malevolence? Can they only see Luo Binghe’s fabulously handsome face and physique?

He wouldn’t be surprised.

“Shen Qingqiu! How dare you!”

Shen Qingqiu blinks. “How dare I what, Liu-shidi? I’m not the one who picked a fight on someone else’s peak.”

He points to Luo Binghe. “Him!”

Beside his general existence, there’s nothing especially offensive about Luo Binghe? “What about him?”

“I thought you’d outgrown such nonsense, but he shows up here!”

Shen Qingqiu has no idea what is happening. “I’m sorry if his presence offends you, but I assure you I have nothing to do with it.”

“I’m afraid that’s a lie,” says Luo Binghe as Liu Qingge seems close to death via outrage.

Shen Qingqiu turns toward Luo Binghe. “How could it be?”

In answer, Luo Binghe brandishes… the fan he’d completely forgotten when he’d visited, shit! Did he come here, on his peak, holding this incriminating evidence as a badge of honor!?

Shen Qingqiu feels himself blanch. How can he clear himself of these allegations? Liu Qingge thinks he’s trying to steal his sister’s man! Once the War God of Bai Zhen is done with Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu’s head is next!

Luo Binghe continues like he didn’t notice Shen Qingqiu’s obvious discomfort, which he must have. “You left this behind the other day, and so I have come to return it. Let it not be said I am not a perfect gentleman.”

Oh no. He can hear consternation from some of his pupils, and definitely less consternated exclamations from others.

Liu Qingge has now plunged on Luo Binghe again, who dodges with too much ease. How can no one notice something is wrong!

Maybe the renewed fight will distract everyone while Shen Qingqiu discretely dig himself a hole deep enough to never have to come out.

Oh well, there’s nothing he can tell but the truth. No one will believe it, but since no one ever believed Shen Qingqiu, how will it be any different? “Please stop this fight at once. Luo Binghe, I thank you for bringing my fan back to me despite my rude refusal of your services. It wasn’t your fault my student misconstrued my interests. Again, I am sorry for your wasted time. Liu-shidi, I understand your sister’s paramour might not be your favorite individual, but please don’t assault the sect’s guests. Think of our reputation. What will people say?”

Liu Qingge stares at him with… stupefaction? “You’re not his?”

Yeah, he’s nipping that train of thought in the bud. The last thing he needs is his disciples thinking he’s some pretty thing’s toy. They would never respect him again. “No. He’s not my type. No offense intended.”

Liu Qingge remains still for a moment, before he plucks the fan from Luo Binghe’s hand and shoves it toward Shen Qingqiu. “Keep track of your fans! There are two in my home!”

Ladies and gentlemen, Shen Qingqiu, a man being berated in public about his chronic tendency to forget things like an unruly child. “Why should I care when Shidi is always so eager to bring them back to me?”

Liu Qingge flushes in anger.

Shen Qingqiu gives himself a point.

_______________

Things were light-hearted before.

Now, Luo Binghe is serious.

Not only did Shen Qingqiu refuse his advance, but he implied Luo Binghe himself wasn’t good enough for him, in front of his whole peak, before ignoring him in favor of flirting with another man, right in his face?

Never has he suffered such humiliation.

He had intended to be kind. To soothe and seduce the man gently until following Luo Binghe to bed would seem like the only logical option.

He bets Shen Qingqiu would have paid him for the privilege, and paid him well, regardless of his disciple’s previous arrangements.

Now, those options are off the table. When Luo Binghe is done with him, pleasure will have robbed Shen Qingqiu of the last of his voice, and yet he’ll still be trying to beg him for more.

He’ll be ruined to anyone that’s not Luo Binghe; unable to live without his touch.

Anything less would be an unsurmountable affront.

Shen Qingqiu better prepares himself. The fight might have been lost, but Luo Binghe will be the one to win the war.

#The Scum Villain Self Serving System #Scum Villain #BingQiu #but it really is #OriginalLBH/SY #Courtesan LBH AU #This has its own tag now and I'm sad

[legends-live-in-memories]

“How Did All This Happen?”- A Memoire by one Marinette Dupain-Cheng 1

Soooooo I decided to write this. much longer than the other things i posted, also very tonally different. I will definitely continue that other fic tho. I was just brainstorming and now this exists. Yeah.

 without further ado

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

People Fucked Up and Now It’s All Marinette’s Mess to Clean Up I

This was not how Marinette planned for her night to go. Granted, she also could not envision it going literally any other way. The woes of making a deal with the hell-raiser himself, John Constantine, she supposes. She truly hoped Adrien was having a much better time than her with his cousin in London. After the circus that was the past three years, he deserved some reprieve, even if it was with his bratty doppelganger. Regardless, Marinette. Was. Not. Pleased. No matter how many times she thinks over her plan, recalculates every step and decision, she could not fathom this night ending well for her, or anyone really, but mostly her. And no amount of old Ladybug or Guardian luck could help her. Now, if one were to wonder what kind of tragedy had befallen Marinette on this disgraceful night, a brief history of the last three months could enlighten such a person. Or better yet, let’s start at the beginning. The Real Beginning.

So, things existed. Obviously. First there was nothing, and then, something. And as more things began to exist, as new schools of knowledge and concepts and ideas began to, well, exist, Kwamis formed as well. Each Kwami was the physical manifestation of these ideas or abstracts. Creation was the first, coupled with Destruction. And as more things began to exist, more things began needing to be protected. Thus, the Kwami of Protection. This went on. For a while. Soon thereafter there were Kwamis of all types. Jubilation, Time, Strength, etc, etc, and etc. Now these Kwamis did not linger in one spot. They roamed across the far stretches of existence and interacted with the life they found.

Some Kwamis decided to form a magical pact which intergalactic historians would later dub the Emotional Electromagnetic Spectrum. Sounds familiar? The Kwamis themselves were completely blissfully unaware of this title, lest they would have explained to these beings, Maltusians they were called, that they were not in fact, electromagnetic but more so a part of the Powers that Be. Kind of. But this side-story involves the formation of a few universally known Lantern Corps, and that is a barrel of monkeys our exasperated narrator does not want to touch with a ten-foot pole. Or ever.

Other Kwamis, who stuck close to what would become known as the Milky Way, were discovered by a mage who granted them the ability to interact with humans. This mage— and Marinette was silently cursing his descendants, herself included, for if it weren’t for this absolute mad lad, none of the subsequent events of this night would have transcribed—had bound the Kwamis to magical jewelry called Miraculouses. An interesting side effect of these Kwamis being bound to the miraculouses was that the wearer could call upon the powers of the Kwamis for their own usage. The mage feared what could become of the world if this kind of power became so easily accessible, so he created the Order of the Guardians. The Order was dedicated to training young mages to protect, wield and harvest the powers of the miraculouses. The Order swore to true neutrality; wishing not to impose their will on one side or the other, to maintain balance and to not upset the natural order of the world. 

This went surprisingly well for a few millennia, that is, of course, if you ignore the sinking of Atlantis, the extinction of the dinosaurs, the Black Plague, the creation of the Lazarus Pits, Pompeii, to name a few completely egregious instances—not necessarily in order of course—and well, the point stands that it could have been astronomically worse. Until it was.  

One young mage and Guardian in training had caused the downfall of almost the entire Order of the Guardians. All the centuries of history, teachings, artifacts and even the people at the head temple, were lost to the calamity. Dozens of Miraculous Boxes were lost, destroyed in the fray. The Kwamis themselves were relatively unaffected, being immortal and all, but the magical jewelry binding them to the earth were broken, thus those Kwamis were lost to mankind once again. Only one singular box, and the young mage himself, survived. The new Guardian of one miraculous box was left to scour the earth in solitude. Well, about as much solitude one could have with 17 pocket gods as company. The fact that the only box that survived was missing two more miraculouses caused the already stressed guardian to grey further. But that tidbit of information would be a problem for later. And for someone else entirely too. Oh joy.

But before that sequence of events, aptly named “Marinette’s Trial by Fire,” however, the young guardian had a couple more life mistakes to make before he reached his internal quota apparently. Rather than travel to another sector of the Order on the other side of the earth, this young mage stumbled upon another organization, one similar in architecture and hierarchy but a pendulum swing in the total moral opposite. Yes, that’s right, the guardian found himself upon the League of Shadows, led by Ra’s Al Ghul in his endeavor of global cleansing; by acts of ecoterrorism, but who sweats the small stuff, right? There, the young guardian, who adopted the name of Wang Fu, met his first love Ming Hong and they had a son. The son had a daughter he named Mei. Now Mei was only a few weeks younger than Ra’s Al Ghul’s grandson, Damian. Now with an appropriate heir, and someone to procreate with said heir, Ra’s Al Ghul gained a special interest in the small Fu family that originally flew under the radar of the League. 

Now this is where things continue to go downhill, but not until much, much later in this story. Ra’s Al Ghul, despite his radical ambitions, was particularly good at playing the long game and understood when he couldn’t accomplish a task directly. This being said, he recognized that, due to prolonged exposure to the Lazarus Pits, his soul could not bear the strain of being a wielder of a miraculous and so he waited. Waited until a suitable heir was sired and could copulate with an heir to the guardian of the miraculous box, desiring to create a bloodline of genetically suitable successors and wielders who were loyal to him and his cause. 

Ra’s ordered for the Fu family to have a place on his court and ordered for Mei Fu to be trained in mastering the secrets of the miraculous. And master she did. By age 6 she was fluent in the coded language of the magical text, or as fluent a 6 year old can be in any language, and she had mastered 7 out the 17 miraculouses. By age 10 she was as skilled as the grandson of the Demon Head in combat and could handle simultaneous wear of 3 miraculouses. Her training, however, had to be put on hold as somebody thought usurping the Demon Head was of the utmost importance that glorious Tuesday and staged a coup. She wished Deathstroke had lost more than an eye that day, but a girl can dream she supposes. Mei and her grandfather were separated from the rest of the League and journeyed west. Somehow they ended up in Paris, France. After one too many run ins with the authorities, Mei was removed from her grandfather, who was deemed too unfit to support her. It was a miracle he wasn’t deported. 

Mei was put into protective custody where she resided until she was 13. Recently adopted, and thoroughly done with the plebeians of her daily encounters, Mei Fu became Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of the best bakers in Paris. All was well and good for the new Dupain-Cheng until the start of the new school year. 

She met her grandfather again. And apparently he had a job for her and her soon to be new partner.

Hawkmoth, that bitch, had somehow acquired the two last surviving miraculouses and the only surviving grimoire and thought domestic terrorism was on the agenda for the next few years. Why? Because investing in a family therapist was too much of an inconvenience for local recluse, Gabriel McFucking Agreste, Marinette would shortly learn. 

After dealing with all of that and juggling between her reignited guardian training, and ‘normal’ girl life—because her parents don’t know that she’s a magical girl in the making—, Marinette was ready to sleep for a thousand years. Or commit murder. Whichever gave her enough serotonin to complete her current passion project. But, alas, no rest for the totally-over-it or however that saying goes. Because after declaring Paris safe once again, sending off her brother-in-arms, Adrien Agreste, to family in London (marginally decent but anything beats the abusive prick of a sperm donor), in waltz one drunken John Constantine.

Ah yes. Him. That absolute bastard who doesn’t deserve nice things in life. That guy.

This unpleasantry approached Master Fu and Marinette, who has been regulated to errand-girl in lieu of training, with a job that he proclaimed that only one blessed with magic, and specifically NOT connected to the Justice League could accomplish. Apparently, a group called the Cult of the Kobra resided on Santa Prisca and was in possession of a dangerous magical artifact that had been the backbone of their organization for years. Constantine came to them asking them for assistance in retrieving it as the Justice League could not interfere in the Caribbean due to new UN legislation. It was a mission of utmost urgency for he feared the cult leader, Kobra himself, was planning on enacting a ritual that could bring calamity to Earth. Which is just what the doctor ordered. Not. In exchange, he agreed to add to her magical training as while master Fu was good, he was still young when he ran away from his problems the first time and thus was limited in his magical knowledge.

That was three months ago. Three months of planning, training, and convincing her parents that letting her go on an extended retreat for an undetermined amount of time with her mostly absent biological grandfather was totally reasonable for the seventeen year old to do. Like, come on. She’s almost old enough to drink, almost ready for university and has been praised for her independence and self-sufficiency for years. She’ll be fine is what she told her parents and she was almost able to convince herself of that too. She would be perfectly fine. Right?

Wrong.

Marinette was anything but fine. She was stressed, she was tired and she was abso-fucking-lutely pissed at anything that even breathed in her direction. Why? Well that brings us back to the beginning of the story when everything on this mission did not go according to plan. So here she was along what was once upon a time the eastern coastline of Santa Prisca. Oh and look. The Junior Justice League has arrived.

Purrrrfect. 

Some one asked for a taglist. Ask and ye shall receive

@deathwishy @neakco  @ virtualreading  @f-rget-lt @your-resident-chicken-nugget

#maribat #marinette x damian #daminette #i was bored and left unattended #no salt in case you were wondering #yes i am looking at you antis who feel like stalking this tag #im not tagging characters cuz reasons #badass!marinette dupain cheng #idk what plot this is going to have or how heavy the romance is but this just exists so #i wrote this at 1 am #hdath #thats the fic tag im gonna use if i post more

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - “At Midnight” (Rated G)

Summary:

Crowley is devastated by how smoothly the world continues on after he loses Aziraphale to the bookshop fire. Adam stops the war between Heaven and Hell, and things go back to normal for everyone... except him. Crowley goes from demon to ghoul, haunting St. James's Park every night, caught up in his memories of his angel. Until one night, he comes across something unexpected that makes things a little better... (2416 words) ... and a whole lot worse.

Read on AO3.

The hands on Aziraphale's grandfather clock have crept dangerously close to eleven by the time Crowley steps out the door of the bookshop and into the night. He's not closing up. The shop was never open. 

Not for anyone but him. 

He’d spent the day lurking in the shifting shadows, coiled around the leg of angel's favorite chair, keeping guard. 

Watching for movement. 

Praying for change.

For resolution.

He marked time by the tolling of Aziraphale's clock, the ebb and flow of the commuters outside, and a single ray of sunlight carving its path across the floor, disappearing out the window at the stroke of seven. That’s when he came out of hiding, became his demon self once again.

Crowley pops his collar against the wind and locks the door behind him. He takes one last look at the pane beneath his fingertips, running them lightly over a ridiculous note affixed to the glass. It’s a note he wrote on Aziraphale's behest, proclaiming when customers can expect the shop to open. 

The long and short of it being - don't. 

I open the shop on most weekdays about 9:30 or perhaps 10 a.m. While occasionally I open the shop as early as 8, I have been known not to open until 1, except on Tuesday...

Crowley had written it to irritate his angel - a demonic dig, as it were. But after reading it, Aziraphale couldn't have been more delighted.

"Brilliant!" he'd said. "Masterfully convoluted! Now I can finally relax and finish my crossword puzzle in peace! Thank you, my dear."

Crowley had gone warm at Aziraphale's words. He had never felt so overwhelmed by praise. 

But now, the sign makes him bitter. 

It should have long been replaced with one that reads on holiday, circling the globe, or living the happily ever after life in Mayfair with my husband.

But that wasn't in the cards for Crowley and Aziraphale. 

Crowley snaps his fingers to lower the blinds and snuff the lights, and takes off at a brisk clip to the park.

Alone.

He does this every night - haunts St. James's Park close to midnight when he'd rather be at home asleep. Crowley had planned to sleep the next seven millennia away, wait until the world started over again before he showed his face to the sun, but infuriatingly, he couldn't. It's impossible for him to get comfortable in his bed when there should be someone else beside him, sitting up and reading by his damned holy light.

Crowley never thought he'd miss that stupid light piercing his eyelids and interrupting his slumber, but he misses it more than anything.

There was nothing left for Crowley after he lost Aziraphale in the bookshop fire. 

He'd always felt that if they went their separate ways, it would sever his heart, but nothing more. He'd go on. But the assumption had been that Aziraphale would still be - exist, just not in Crowley's life.

When Aziraphale went, everything good went with him - love, hope, color, and taste all vacated Crowley's world. But Crowley was too much of a coward to call it quits and join him in oblivion, since, as far as Crowley was concerned, that was where immortal beings ended up if they were eliminated from Earth. Heaven and Hell only existed for humans. Aziraphale and Crowley were created for this world. 

For them, this was it.

He thought he would get into his car and drive, but he couldn't make himself leave. He would get as far as Kent or Surrey, then his Bentley would stop.

Whether he was the one pressing the brake or his car - it varied.

Either way, he'd take a deep breath, toss off his glasses, rub the blur from his watery eyes, and the next thing he knew, he was home.

Couldn't sleep. 

Couldn't leave. 

Couldn't escape. 

Yup. This was Hell. Undoubtedly.

Since he couldn't stay put and he couldn't run away, he spent night after night roaming the park - a ghoul shrouded in shadows of the past. Selfishly, he did everything he could to make the park inhospitable after dark, the same way Aziraphale did for his bookshop to deter customers. He made the place dreary, filled it with suspicious shadows, cold spots, and feelings of dread. In his attempt to get rid of anyone who might bother him, he unwittingly thwarted a few mugging attempts and a handful of assaults, which eliminated crime in St. James's Park for the most part. 

Otherwise, he kept to himself. 

It didn't matter to Crowley one bit that Adam had saved the planet from Heaven and Hell's blasted war. Or that, in doing so, neither side seemed interested in Crowley anymore. 

Without Aziraphale by his side, Crowley wanted none of it. 

These nightly walks, re-visiting the spots where they'd met up through time, didn't help. His memories of Aziraphale had begun to erode what was left of his soul.

His regret over the one thing he had left unsaid.

But there was a handshake exchange afoot.

His late-night trips to the park were how he noticed the light, blooming, growing on the bench smack dab in front of the duck pond.

Their bench.

A thread of silver light that lasted one solid minute from beginning to end.

It was spectacular. Unbelievable in its brilliance. Of the few souls who braved Crowley's shield of demonic influence, only Crowley seemed to notice it. And he couldn't avoid it.

It called to him.

Crowley stalked the light for over a week, never getting too close. It seemed like the kind of thing Gabriel might conjure up to trap him. Heaven may not give two shits about him, but archangels have been known to hold serious grudges.

He resisted its pull, but Crowley is a curious demon, and curiosity got the better of him. Besides, what did he care if Gabriel got the drop on him? Crowley was up for a fight, even one he might lose.

He had nothing better to do.

Crowley walked straight to the bench and sat down the moment the light appeared. He stared at it, into it, trying to sniff out its origins, what it was doing there. Being this close to it, he realized he was wrong. It didn't appear out of thin air. It was a consequence - evidence of a seam ripping in the universe, and on the other side...

Crowley only saw him for a second, but that was all he needed.

Aziraphale.

They locked eyes. Aziraphale's face lit up as if he were seeing the stars for the first time. 

Stars Crowley created.

He was quite a distance from the tear. Like Crowley, he avoided it as much as possible. But seeing Crowley on the other side, he ran toward it, calling out a single word. It was all he had time for before the rend closed, and he was gone again.

The word he managed was Crowley.

Every night after, Crowley would arrive at the bench with plenty of time for the two of them to speak. As best as they could deduce, something bizarre happened during that fire in Aziraphale's bookshop. Unprecedented. Crowley assumed, at first, that the flames that devoured his angel's pride and joy had come from Hellfire. But they didn't. And Aziraphale, standing in the center of the transportation portal in his corporeal form, never made it to Heaven. He got caught in between. 

Purgatory. 

A place that many supernatural beings consider scarier than Hell. 

A railway station with a way in but no way out. For immortals, that is. Mortal souls can earn a place upstairs depending on how they behave in this celestial waiting room. But as humans and demons don't concern themselves much with Purgatory lore, there is no book in Hell or on Earth that can help. Crowley has tried finding one - traveled to libraries and broken into collections he would do only on Aziraphale's behalf. But for all of his lofty capers, he found nothing. There might be a book in Heaven, but Crowley has no way to access it.

And Aziraphale is trapped.

Wouldn't Crowley know it, but even under these circumstances, Aziraphale found ways to continue his insufferable good deeds, helping mortal souls trapped with him to move along. Though Crowley believes Aziraphale has an ulterior motive.

Peace and quiet.

Aziraphale has one of those faces that attracts people to him, people who long to share their woeful life stories. So he listens, and then he counsels. When that soul moves on, he earns the most sought-after prize of all - an additional measure of silence.

Crowley and Aziraphale thought Heaven would notice his absence by now. Gabriel’s memos were piling up on Aziraphale's desk, untouched. Or by the massive influx of souls arriving at the pearly gates. 

But no luck.

The angels in charge of the prisoners in the bottomless pits of Hell are more on the ball than the ones who keep an eye on the poor souls stuck in between.

This boundary between Earth and Purgatory dissolves at the stroke of midnight but zips up as soon as the clock strikes 12:01. Then Aziraphale disappears, not returning again till the following day. They are permitted one minute to tell each other everything, and they do their best to get it all out. 

There's one thing Crowley hasn't gotten to yet. Hasn’t for 6000 years. 

His one regret.

He plans on telling Aziraphale tonight on the off chance they can't come up with a solution to this.

Crowley feels the light before it appears. It tugs at something deep inside, ushers him to his seat on the bench. It arrives with a clap like thunder, so loud he’s surprised when it doesn’t shatter windows and crack foundations. Air whooshes by him at hurricane speeds, sucked into the impending rend. 

A second later, Aziraphale appears beside him. 

In a different dimension but beside him, framed by the light as if he's a reflection in a mirror. 

Crowley inches his hand close, knowing without seeing that Aziraphale’s hand rests similarly on the opposite side. They cannot touch. They’ve tried. 

Neither can cross the barrier.

“So, my dear,” Aziraphale starts, looking through the shimmer at Crowley, “how’s the bookshop?”

“Right as rain as always,” Crowley replies. He used to mutter, “Hello, Crowley. How are you? You’re looking well this fine evening,” but realized how immature and hurtful that was when Aziraphale heard him, and his face fell. Aziraphale wasn’t disregarding Crowley by not asking after him first. It was too painful for Aziraphale to acknowledge how far apart they were from one another. “How have you been, angel?”

“Can’t complain. Although I could really go for a plate of crepes. Or perhaps a nice, hearty gazpacho.”

“Don’t you worry. The moment I have you free of there, I’ll take you to dinner. Anywhere you want to go.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Aziraphale says, the longing in his eyes heartbreaking. “It wouldn’t be so bad over here if I had a book or two.”

“I did try passing you one over, but… “

“Yes, yes, I recall.” Aziraphale sighs at the memory of a favorite Wilde hardcover disintegrating into thin air. Luckily, that didn’t happen to either of them when they attempted to cross. “Valiant effort. Disastrous outcome.” 

“Meddled in anyone's affairs today, have you?” 

“As a matter of fact… ” Aziraphale smiles brightly. “A charming lady named Agatha. Lived a good long life. Died at the age of 93, I believe she said.”

“Wot in the world did she do to make it into Purgatory?”

“The usual. Attachment to sin.”

Crowley nods, lips twisting with a knowing grin. “Let me guess… the premarital variety?”

“That’s the one. She also poisoned an abusive stepfather, not her own, broke into a research facility to rescue rabbits, and stole a petty neighbor’s tomatoes on the daily until the day she died.”

Crowley chuckles. “Ah, yes. You’ve got to love old ladies.”

“Indeed.”

“Wot did you do?”

“Same as always. I had her give a proper confession. I forgave her for the poisoning, of course… “

“Of course.”

“... and the rabbit liberation. But we talked through the issue with the tomatoes. I explained that trespassing on her neighbor’s property is wrong even if the woman did dye all her delicates on her drying line puce.”

Crowley makes a face. He has no idea what puce is, but it sounds vile. “Probably justified there.”

“But that wasn’t the crux of her dilemma.”

“Wot was?”

Aziraphale turns, eyes wandering in the direction of the pond even though he can’t see it. “She misses the love of her life.”

Crowley's eyes widen. “Oh.”

“I assured her that her lover would be with her soon. After that, she was fine moving on.”

“Is that the truth?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale says wistfully. “He beloved misses her very much. They make a lovely couple.”

“That’ll be nice. The two of them reuniting.”

“Yes. It will be… for them.”

Silence falls between them. They steer clear of silence when they can, seeing how short their time is together, but it can't be helped. Aziraphale could work from here till eternity joining lost souls, but he can't help himself do the same. 

The weight of that overwhelms them.

Crowley's phone vibrates in his pocket, signaling their minute together coming to an end. The silver frame phases, its light dimming, sputtering like a candle about to go out. As with every time before, Crowley tries to stop it, tries to stop time to keep Aziraphale with him longer. But it doesn’t work. Either this rend works outside of the laws of time, or time has had it with Crowley’s antics, but this can’t be stopped. 

Crowley’s imagination isn’t strong enough.

“We only have a little time left,” Aziraphale says, “and we’re no closer to solving this puzzle!”

“I know,” Crowley replies. “I'll keep working on it. I promise. But before you go, I just wanted to tell you… ”

The air crackles as the rip begins to mend, the noise drowning them out.

"Yes, my dear?"

"I need to tell you... "

“Oh, Crowley!” Aziraphale starts to fade as the gap sutures shut. “I’m so sorry… "

The tear closes, his angel gone, and in the ensuing silence, Crowley’s last words hang in the air, having escaped his lips a second too late for their recipient to hear.

“… I love you.”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale #Crowley

[say-the-name-sebongie]

Complicated

Synopsis: Mingyu is a demon prince and came to earth to watch another world war that was caused by the demon king to honor his inheritance to the throne in the underworld (as all his predecessors had done by tradition). It was going great until he met a female soldier at one of the military camps made him kinda not want to be a demon anymore.

Pairing: Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: angst, kinda dystopianAU!

Warnings: war, guns, mentions of death,

Word Count: 1.3k words

Crickets chirped on a bunch of trees to her left as she walked back to the barracks. Why she was always assigned for night patrol, _____ didn't know. Her hard-military boots didn't make the walk back to the barracks any easier but she knew she had to hurry if she wanted to make it to shelter before the bombing started again.

Gritting her teeth, she gave one last spurt towards the dark building where a single lightbulb was the only thing that was providing any light. All other lights were already turned off, signifying that everyone else had turned in for the night. But sitting under the light was Mingyu. The man was twirling his service pistol— which would have been tremendously dangerous if he were not a trained soldier— with his finger inside the trigger guard. A combat shotgun was propped against the wall behind him.

Mingyu was this really tall guy who wouldn't disclose anything about his past. Where he came from, his age, his last name, what he used to do for a living before getting dispatched as an emergency recruit, nothing. All he would say was that his dad was really rich and that going to the military and fighting in this war was the only thing that would ensure that he would get all of daddy's riches when the time came.

_____ didn't know why his father would make him join the army as a private, especially in the middle of an ongoing war. If Mingyu was really as rich as he said he was then he would have been able to snag himself a higher position instead of groveling with her in the lower ranks. And if his father wanted to have an heir, he wouldn’t sent said heir off to a war where he could die at any time. But here he was, sitting under the lightbulb of one of the barracks where the privates slept, probably assigned there by their Sergeant Major to guard in case of a surprise attack or to receive emergency orders.

Mingyu stood up as she came closer, offering to her the chair he was sitting on. _____ gratefully took the seat and sighed in relief when the pressure of her weight was removed from her sore feet. She took off her shoes and propped her swollen feet up on the wall beside the combat shotgun. "Now this is the life," she muttered, smiling warmly at Mingyu. "You're not getting this chair back anytime soon, Gyu."

The boy laughed. This girl really was something. Unlike all the other girls he had heard of, she was different. Not that he had heard of or met a lot of other girls. He sat down on the wooden floor and stared at her. Her hair was sticking out several places and her face was bare. The camouflage makeup that was required of them whenever they went for patrol by the borders looked as if it was hastily wiped away. Spots of it still hung on her skin. But nonetheless, he found her beautiful.

He hadn’t seen a lot of beautiful things before. Being the son and only heir to his father's throne in the Underworld, Mingyu was used to ugly and cold. His home was full of it. He had grown up in the obsidian castle his ancestors had built, learning about what his future of ruling the Underworld would be like. It was normal to see gargoyles flying as soon as he woke up or walking past rotting zombies and skeletons on the road. Those two words basically summarized that: ugly and cold. Never in his life (or what he called his life) did he think that there was anything else aside from that.

Yet here it was, sitting on a chair with her feet up on the wall, the epitome of beauty and warmth.

He tore his eyes away from _____ and gazed out at the forest that surrounded the base. A deep orange light was shining in the distance where a city was probably being burned down. His last conversation with his father replayed itself in his mind.

"A celebration?" Mingyu scratched his head in confusion. Such a word wasn't heard in the Underworld, at least not regularly. "What for?"

The Demon King laughed and patted his son on the back. "Why to celebrate your heirship, of course." He turned Mingyu around and gestured at the land around them, at the dead roaming around jagged rocks studded with jewels and rivers glowing dimly in different colors against the dark sky. “We will fill up the Upper world with lights and shouts in your honor."

Back then, hearing that filled Mingyu with anticipation. He had never had a celebration just for him, let alone a celebration arranged for him by his very own father. But apparently, the lights his father meant were fires of burning cities and shouts were equivalent to screams of pain and fear. The celebration of his inheritance had come to Earth in the form of war.

Mingyu would have been happy with all this if he hadn't requested to see the celebration himself and met _____ in the process. He had disguised himself as a human soldier and blended in with a group of other soldiers. Her strong cheerful voice was the first thing that greeted him when he boarded the truck. She was one of the talkative ones. Helping keep order among the first time soldiers that had been recruited from the provinces near town.

_____ showed him something he had never seen before. She cheered up the other soldiers that were depressed about going to war, telling them that they would be able to come back home to their families once it was all over. She was always the first person to place a flower on the graves of fallen soldiers.

He had fallen in love with her. Sure, a demon could fall in love. But a demon falling in love with a human? That was highly unheard of.

To his luck— or misfortune— _____ liked him as well. "We just have to wait for this war to be over," she told him one night when they were on patrol together. "Then we can get married and live happily ever after."

At one of their makeshift funerals for their comrades, Mingyu realized that one of the funerals that he attended in the future could be hers. They were in a war, any one of them could be dead by the time night came. The thought of her dying scared him.

He should’ve left when they first came to get him but he was so scared of what might happen to _____ if he weren’t there. So, he made up excuses when his father's minions had come to bring him back home. He couldn’t remember what excuses he had come up with but as long as it got him to stay by her side for longer, it didn’t matter to him.

Mingyu knew that there was no way to stop this war but he wanted nothing more than to be with her. He hadn’t known of the power of love. He wanted to stay with her and throw away the throne he had inherited along with all the powers and riches that came with it without a second thought.

But he knew his father wouldn't allow it. The Demon King could find him and bring him back to rule, that was the reason Mingyu was born and that was what the king expected him to do. He knew how far his father was willing to go. If he had to kill _____ in the process then, so be it.

"Earth to Mingyu, any signal there?"

_____'s voice brought him back from his thoughts. He looked up at her, the smile on her face brighter than the light that shone above them. The girl combed her hands through his locks, Mingyu's eyes closing at the pleasurable feeling. "What are you thinking about."

"Us."

She cocked her head to the side, confused. "I thought we had already gone through this. You said you loved me and wanted to stay with me."

"That's right." Mingyu agreed.

"Then what's the problem?"

"Everything," he said sadly, taking her hand and lacing his fingers with hers.

"I want to be with you. It’s as simple and as complicated as that."

#seventeen #caratwritersclub #svt #mingyu #kim mingyu #seventeen scenarios #seventeen oneshots #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #im just #so happy everything has been cleared #caratland is finally happy again! #though this fic isnt really that happy #but i am #angst

[sage-nebula]

I’ve been thinking about what I would have liked a sequel to InuYasha to be like, since the official sequel has been such a disappointment (to say the least), so I figured I’d go ahead and post my thoughts. 

To start with, we’re keeping Moroha, and she would be the actual main character. She’s the daughter of the previous two main protagonists, her personality steals the show on the regular anyway, and the fact that she’s part demon while also having sacred priestess powers makes her far more interesting than simply doing half-demons 2.0. I’m not sorry.

So, the story. I imagine that hundreds and hundreds of years back, like well before Inuyasha was ever sealed to the Tree of Ages and all that drama with Kikyou and Naraku happened, there was a prophecy made by some kind of deity (or deity-like) figure. The prophecy was something like, when a demon had a child with a powerful priestess, that child would then end the warring period between demons and mortals—and would, in fact, put an end to demons altogether. In other words, the child of the demon and shrine maiden would lead to the modern era, where mortals still roam freely but demons are (typically) nowhere to be seen. Not many knew about this prophecy, but very powerful and high-ranking demons did (e.g. Kirinmaru, possibly Inuyasha and Sesshoumaru’s father), and because they didn’t want demons to disappear from the earth for very obvious reasons (even though the prophecy wasn’t clear on how that would happen), they made it a point to try to stop the birth of such a child from ever happening—or, if it did happen, they made it a point to kill said child as an infant before they could ever grow. 

Hundreds of years passed. For a time there was great concern over whether Kikyou would bear the child that would bring about the prophecy, given that she was a powerful priestess (the most powerful priestess) who had several half-demons interested in her. Fears waned a little when Inuyasha decided to become human like Kikyou, forsaking his demon half and therefore rendering the two of them unable to bring the prophecy to pass (and there was some argumentation over whether a half-demon could bring the prophecy to pass anyway, but the danger was too great to risk it in the minds of those who knew), but then all of that drama went down before he could, and Kikyou died before she could have a child with anyone, so it became a moot point.

Regardless, those hundreds of years passed, Kikyou was reborn as Kagome, Kagome and Inuyasha fell in love, and they ended up giving birth to a child, Moroha, who inherited both demonic powers from her father and sacred powers from her mother. And while it’s not as if someone was watching Inuyasha and Kagome on CCTV to stalk their every action, other parts of the prophecy (such as the full moon and sun both being present in the sky at the moment of the birth, which happened just as day broke, or stars falling the night of conception) lined up and made it clear that the prophecied birth had come to pass. Of course, neither Inuyasha nor Kagome knew of the prophecy, nor did anyone else in the village . . . but Kirinmaru, as mentioned before, did.

So Kirinmaru shows up some time after Moroha’s birth, when she’s still a baby, with the intent on killing her and probably her parents as well, for good measure, so they can’t have another one. He’s not alone; I’m unsure of whether Sesshoumaru would be with him or not in this version (because I feel Sesshoumaru would have complicated feelings on the issue; he doesn’t want demons to disappear but also he’s doubtful Inuyasha’s child could make that happen), but Kirinmaru would at least have his top four lackeys and possibly many other demons with him. Enough so that everyone in the village would be at significant risk. Of course Kagome and Inuyasha aren’t going down without a fight, but also a battleground is no place for a baby, so Kagome takes Moroha through the well (which we’ll say was working at this point in time) in order to have her family watch her. This serves two purposes: It gives Moroha a loving family to take care of her, with Kagome herself ensuring that happens, AND it allows us to show Kagome’s family after giving a frick about her potentially dying, which Yashahime failed to show with their non-reaction to her potentially having a child.

Of course, Kagome’s family doesn’t want her to return to the feudal era if there’s some huge battle going down, but Kagome promises that she will survive, and she will come back to get Moroha. She promises. So her family agrees to babysit Moroha, and Kagome returns to the feudal era . . . only to not come back. As a result, Moroha is raised by Souta and his family, and cherished by her grandma and great-grandpa, even though there is also an ever-present sorrow and grief because they believe Kagome must have died in the battle she spoke of. And Moroha does feel the love from her family, but also recognizes that they also see her dead mother whenever they look at her, so there’s that, too.

With that said, Kagome isn’t dead! She returns to the feudal era and things are indeed going badly (in a flashback we get plenty of “INUYASHAAAA” “KAGOMEEEEE” for old time’s sake), but I don’t want to kill either her or Inuyasha off. So instead, we’ll bring the Rainbow Pearls back into it. Like in the actual sequel, Inuyasha and Kagome end up sealed in one of the Rainbow Pearls. But the reason here is because Kirinmaru finds out that Kagome sent Moroha away to a place where he can no longer reach her, and he’s furious about it. But he also feels that, when she grows up, she will seek out her parents. So he figures, he’ll take her parents, seal them in a state where they can’t escape him, and then use them as bait. He’ll lure Moroha to him and kill her then. It’s a perfect plan. (And while I would want to seal Inuyasha and Kagome into the Tree of Ages since that’s their tree, at the same time, Kirinmaru can’t exactly take a whole ass tree with him. I mean, he could, but it’d kill it and probably end the sealing power. So.)

Years pass, Moroha grows. She can pretty much pass for a human girl aside from her fangs and her super senses / abilities, so she doesn’t feel like too much of an outcast in the human world. She's a little older than in Yashahime, maybe around 16, and as such was able to do at least a year or two of high school and has a few years experience in archery and kendo clubs as a result. But though she doesn’t feel like an outcast, Moroha has always been plagued by the feeling that there’s more to her story than she and her family know. She feels like there’s something missing, like the assumption that her mother died just isn’t right. This draws her back to the Bone-Eaters Well time and time again, and the final time (the one we see) Souta follows her there. They talk about Moroha’s feelings and her desire to know, and Souta tells her he think that she can make the trip—and that she should, if she can’t rest. He gives her Inuyasha’s robe of the fire rat (which I forgot to mention Moroha was swaddled in when Kagome took her through), as well as her bow and quiver from archery, and some other provisions. Then Moroha jumps through and returns to the feudal era.

So the main plot, or at least the one that Moroha is aware of at first, would be Moroha trying to figure out what happened to her parents, where they are, et cetera (and people like Miroku, Sango, and Shippou bursting out crying when they see that Inuyasha and Kagome’s daughter did survive and is all grown up and looks so much like her parents). Then in the background of that is the prophecy and whether Moroha actually will carry it out or not. My thought is that she would, but it’s not that she kills all demons, because that’s pretty grim. Rather, it’s that the Rainbow Pearls would ultimately be used to seal or suppress demonic powers, with the implication that demons or people with demonic powers are very much still actually in the modern era, but they’re just sleeping, and could come back at any time. And perhaps this would be done at the end of her life rather than at the end of the series, I don’t know. But basically it would be written to explain the discrepancy of why there were demons and magic in the feudal era, but no longer in the modern era. It would make Kagome going back to the feudal era, meeting Inuyasha and building a family with him, something that actually needed to happen for her era to exist as it did at all. (So, a stable time loop, sort of.)

As for Sesshoumaru having daughters, I honestly really don’t think it’s necessary, but if he did they should be side characters (as in they can be part of the main group, but their story shouldn’t be the primary focus), and Kagura should be their mother. Since Kagura died, if we do still want them to be half-demons, then perhaps it could be that Sesshoumaru traveled to the modern era himself somehow to look for Moroha after Kagome sent her there (I don’t think the well would work for him, but this is a show about magic, he could find a way). He didn’t find Moroha, but he found Kagura’s modern reincarnation, a human woman who looked startlingly like her. He followed her around to figure out what was up with her, she thought he was a creep (albeit a very pretty creep), he eventually decides to leave her because she’s her own person and not Kagura, she follows him because she wants to know where he’s going, she ends up going back to the feudal era with him on accident, they travel together for a while, fall in love, have babies, etc. So I guess in that sense the mother of Sesshoumaru’s daughters wouldn’t actually be Kagura, just like Kagome is not Kikyou, but regardless, she’d be as close to Kagura as he could actually get and that’s better than the alternative that the fifteenth episode of Yashahime suggested, so I’d take it. (Granted I would have taken just about anything over that, but still.) With this scenario, Towa and Setsuna (if we kept those names) would be younger than Moroha, and would have been raised together in the feudal era. If they end up traveling with Moroha, perhaps it’s because Sesshoumaru sent them to do it by suggestion. The twins think they’re just ~bonding~ with their cousin, or at least helping her survive in an era she’s not familiar with, but also their father is using them to spy on her to see if there’s any chance she could bring about the prophecy.

So yeah, that’s what I got. If I’d been asked to come up with a sequel to Inuyasha, that’s what I would have written. Of course there are more details that would need to be ironed out, but nonetheless, we’d have a clear goal from the jump, the correct character would be the main character, and there wouldn’t be any child grooming or pedophilia. Win-win-win, honestly. We could have had it all.

#inuyasha #anti sessrin #inuyasha sequel au #moroha #moroha deserved better #so much better #anti yashahime

[etherealluminescence]

helloo! can i request the brother with a virgin mc who’s really nervous when they get intimate because she’s scared she cant pleasure them? you can make it nsfw if you want. btw i really like your writing! i hope you have a good day 😊

Hello anon! Thanks for asking, I’ll be making this one nsfw! It’s pretty long since I included smut scenarios at the bottom of each, and as an opening to each hc! Just skip the italics if you don’t like nsfw or feel free to skip this whole thing if it’s not your style, random tumblr user ✨ And thank you I hope you have a good day too anon 🥺🥺

I’m such a kinky person who had to include tail fucking by levi even if no one agrees that is his kink and no one can tell me otherwise.

Brothers react to a f!virgin!MC (NSFW)

Lucifer

Quiet moans filled the air as Lucifer began undressing you. Taking off your blouse, he cupped your left breast through the cloth of your bra, eliciting a yelp from your slightly swollen lips. Slowly, he etched his hand down to your core, rubbing it.

Before he could continue, however, you let out little sobs. You thought you were ready for this, but could you really do it? You were a virgin and judging from his height he’s probably as giant down there as his ego is.

Would you even be enough for him? There’s no way, right? What if he wants you to do something? Are you just going to ruin the mood?

Confused, Lucifer immediately stops his actions and tries to console you. Did he do something wrong? Was he pressuring you into this? Did you not actually want him?

Covering your face with your hands, you tell him that you’re actually a virgin, and don’t know what you should be doing. Would he even be satisfied with you?”

“MC, darling, show me your face.” This was not a command, it was a request. He wanted you to look him in the eyes when he talks to you.

Bringing your arms down, you look up at him and start to cry a bit more. Was he going to berate you?

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, okay? I assure you, I want to do this with you, you are more than enough to satisfy me. And all you need to do is let me hear that beautiful voice of yours.”

Now a crying and blushing mess, you bring your head up to give him a quick peck on the lips, a sign telling him you want to continue.

Deepening the kiss, Lucifer easily starts the mood back up again. Kissing, biting, and sucking all over your neck down between your breasts. Dark purple hickies covered your body by the time he was finished. Somewhere along the lines of him biting and sucking, he had managed to discard your undergarments.

His finger slowly entered you as you stifle in a moan. As he fingered you, he gradually let you get used to it before adding a second, then third, and even a fourth. The sensation was so foreign to you, but oh so very welcomed. Clenching around his fingers, you let out a small cry that it feels weird, as your sticky fluids coat his fingers and trickle down your thighs.

Smiling down at you, he removes his fingers and licks them clean before kissing you and letting you taste a bit of yourself. “You’re doing perfect, what was there ever to worry about, love?”

Mammon

“Of course the human wants to do it with me, who wouldn’t?” Mammon semi-yelled in an attempt to cover his embarrassment. Taking both your hands in one of his, he slowly lowered you down on his bed as he gave you a kiss.

Before he could do anymore, you brought your knees up and told him to wait. He was sort of offended and embarrassed, but decided to listen to what you had to say.

“Im-a-virgin-please-be-gentle-with-me-and-don’t-make-fun-of-me-I-don’t-know-what-to-do-or-how-to-pleasure-you.” you very quickly said before burying your face inside of his pillows beside you.

“What was that MC? You gotta say it slower! Slower! Ya know?” Mammon responded. Truthfully, he heard you clearly the first time, but he just wanted to hear you say it again, but slower, and let him soak in the glory of this.

Taking your face out of the pillow, you looked up at Mammon and repeated yourself. “I’m a virgin, Mammon. I don’t know how this works or how to pleasure you, but please, be gentle with me.”

Seeing his sly smile, you wanted to die. He did it on purpose, didn’t he? Before you could hide yourself from reality again, he pulls you into a deep kiss. “I’m gonna tell everyone the Great Mammon was your first in everything!”

“Ma- mpf!” You were cut off by another kiss. Turning you around, Mammon propped your ass into the air and gave it a small spank making you squeal. Today, he’ll let his little human be, and work hard for them.

Ripping off your pants and underwear, he pushed his fingers into your ass and began to slowly push in and out. His other hand worked at stroking himself, telling you to watch so you know how to do it next time, because you will be giving him a blowjob eventually.

Climaxing on his fingers, he pushed them into your mouth and told you to suck. You ate every last bit of it as if it were the tastiest substance. Pulling his fingers in your ass out, and pushed his length in, causing you to cry from the size. “You were that hungry for my cum MC~? Get ready.” That cocky son of a bitch.

Leviathan

Loud moans from the both of you echoed throughout the room. Levi’s hands were roaming your upper half while his tailed worked on getting rid of your lower half’s clothing. But just as he got to taking off your underwear.

You didn’t mean to, but you started to cry. You were shaking. You just couldn’t control it anymore, out of everyone, you figure Levi would be a virgin and not know what to do like you. But you underestimated how many eroge games he plays.

Startled, Levi was trying his best to function. Why were you crying?? Did you not want a yucky otaku like human? Did you not like him? Did you agree to date him for a few months out of pure pity and suddenly want to get rid of him?

Trying your best to calm yourself, for both your’s and Levi’s sakes, you let out a shaky breath and explain to him what you’re feeling. The gears in his head are finally shifting.

“You mean a beautiful and amazing person like you is a v-virgin?” Levi asks, unsure if he’s hearing it right or if you’re making an excuse.

Repeating yourself, this boy was ecstatic. It was the complete opposite of what you thought was going to happen. You mean he gets to be your first?? And otaku that likes to watch idols and plays video games 17 hours a day actually gets to be YOUR first time?

Levi was amazingly happy and even expressed that very loudly. His little tail was wagging. You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction, soon enough forgetting your own worries.

Levi told you not to worry. Although he’s also a virgin, he’s played plenty of eroge games and seen enough hentai to know what to do!!

Spreading your thighs, Levi inches closer until you could feel his hot breath hovering over your clit. Using his tail, he pushed it into your mouth, causing you to moan in shock. As his tail began fucking your mouth, he began working on eating you out.

With one of his fingers, he reached up and began to pinch one of you buds while keeping up the pace. All of this was extremely stimulating for you, a virgin. Two of your holes were being filled and your breasts were also getting attention. Pressing your thighs against his face, you began to smush him as you got closer to your edge, which only excited him even further.

As he pulled out of your mouth, you climaxed and dug your hands into his back, leaving scratch marks. However, the night was still young and just one climax wasn’t enough. There’s a reason he was fucking your mouth, as he shoved his tail into your ass and pushed his length into you.

Satan

Swallowing, you look up at Satan to try and gauge what on earth you should do. Taking his length into your hands, you slowly began to rub and stroke, as best you knew how.

At that point, it was obvious. You couldn’t fake it. You were shaking, you looked confused, and you clearly did not know how to give a blowjob.

Satan was first to speak up between the awkward silence you two shared. Your boyfriend wasn’t going to judge you, but he wasn’t going to get off this way either.

“Do you, perhaps not you know, know how?” It was definitely awkward. The two of you were inwardly cringing. Sex wasn’t something you two often talked about, or well, ever talked about. You never thought about having sex with anyone in general.

Quickly, you responded with a little “no”.

He isn’t judgemental, he could predict it from the fact you would close your eyes if two people held hands in a movie calling it “lewd” and unforgivable. He thought it was a human joke at first, with Solomon saying that too, but the blush on your face was way too strong for it to be a dedicated joke.

Satan takes liberty to guiding your hands over the sensitive parts, and the general parts, telling you how and where to touch and suck.

While he’s explaining, he’s also boasting his knowledge of dick anatomy.

Placing your hands on his hips, you began to lick the tip of his dick before moving to the underside, making sure to give it all the attention it deserved. You soon took a third of him in, your limit, and used your hands to stroke the remaining parts.

Groaning, he entangled his fingers into your hair and began to accidentally choke you against him. Little tears were forming in your eyes, but if felt damn good to have his thick member filling you up, as you listen to hear his groans that you made.

Climaxing without warning, his hot bitter seed filled your mouth. You nearly gagged it out, but swallowed it whole in order to try your best to pleasure him. Patting your head, Satan tells you that you were amazing, and a very quick learner.

Asmodeous

“How about we have some fun, darling?” Asmodeous whispered into your ear before biting it as he wrapped his around you from behind. His hands began to slowly fondle your breasts, but before he could any further.

You knew this day was coming. Asmodeous was the demon of lust, and he was your boyfriend. A very amazing boyfriend who held back on his lust and stayed loyal to you meaning he’s been sex deprived for months. It was finally time, or you might accidentally kill him.

You were more than willing to help your boyfriend, you really were, but you were also scared. He’s been with probably thousands of people by now- he’s probably a thousand and slept with a hundred thousand! How could you, a virgin, satisfy the master of fucking?

But only because he is the master of fucking, he could tell you were uneasy. He tried to avoid making too many moves on you, other than flirting, because he would just know you were feeling nervous, but he couldn’t understand why. He knows he’s beautiful but you don’t have to be so worried to see him nude?

Asmo began to stroke your back and slowly backed down, he could wait until you were ready. But you however, had made up your mind. You were terrified, you knew you wouldn’t be as good as him or the other succubusses who were literally born to fuck, but you wouldn’t want him to be horny and be unable to do anything about it because he loves you.

Grabbing his hand, you turned around and looked up into his eyes, and swallowed putting on a brave face. “Asmo... I’m a virgin, and I’m not sure if I could pleasure you, but if you would, please take care of me.” You started off strong but slowly began to mutter, blushing wildly.

Asmo was incredibly happy. You mean his darling MC is a virgin;; like his girlfriend was worried about pleasuring him and wants to be fucked by him?? And only him?? Ever?

He literally forgets he was trying to get the sick and begins to squeal. He’s holding your hands and telling you words of encouragement and that you’re the only one for him, and that he will teach you exactly what to do.

Groping your ass, he gave it a rough squeeze as you yelped. Taking advantage of the situation he shoved his tongue into your mouth and easily claimed dominance. Swirling his tongue around, he made sure to taste all of your mouth. You’re his.

“That’s just the basics on how to get a quick kiss~” he teased as he started to nibble on your neck. His left hand was already under your panty, fingering you, while his right was massaging your breast. Your small whimpers and mewls only encouraged him to continue and do more.

He knows he should only do so much while you’re a virgin and probably don’t have a high enough stamina yet, but damn were you sexy as fuck. You on the other hand, were drowning in pleasure as he sucked and bit your buds and was pushing even more fingers deeper inside you, hitting your g-spot.

Beelzebub

Beel’s big figure dominated you as he pinned you down underneath him on his bed. You had always know he was tall and well sculpted, but being this close and intimate with him, you were having second thoughts.

“You’re so pretty, MC.” Beel whispered as he gently kissed you on the lips, as if going any harder would cause you some kind of harm.

Ah, of course he was gentle. He always was. It sort of made you feel bad, and even conflicted for having thoughts of being scared. But hearing him unzip his pants, and looking at his dick brought you back into reality.

There’s was no way it was going to fit. Your two hands could not wrap around that. Your mouth could not fit more than a third of that, even on a good day. How are you going to pleasure him or have sex if you can’t even fit him?

Beel was always watching you, so he could immediately tell you’re uneasy. And he immediately began to tell you not to worry, and it’s okay. And that he will stop and go get snacks for you if you want to stop right now.

It caused you to cry. He’s just so sweet, how did you land the greatest and softest boyfriend in the history of the world?

He wasn’t sure what to do so he went to his dresser and pulled out a bag of chips and offered it to you. Seeing Beel so worried and concerned made you feel a lot better.

“I’m fine, Beel. I just really love you, but I’m a virgin. I’m not sure if I could fit you, or well.. pleasure you. I’m sorry, it’s stupid.” You ended up telling him.

Did you think he was just going to go put it in without prep work?? Of course not! You silly goose, he was going to prep the life out of you. And him. Don’t worry. You probably won’t even be able to go all the way today.

“Oh.” Well now you learned about what prepping was. And you thanked whoever came up with that idea.

Bringing your thighs into his shoulders, he pulled your panties down and pushed his tongue into you, and started to swirl. One of his hands was covered in lube, working on himself, while the other was working on your ass.

Going deeper and deeper, you let out small whimpers that gradually grew into loud moans. Your body was no longer in your control, and the only thing in your mind was now your desires.

Climaxing for the first time, Beel didn’t even bother to stop. He ate you up like his favorite meal and continued to work on you, pulling his fingers out of your ass to give it a light smack before continuing his work. “One day, we’ll get to the full course, but let’s enjoy this first.”

Belphegor

“You’re such a good girl.” He whispered pulling you closer towards him. As he took off your shirt and bra, he gave your nipple a quick pinch before starting, causing you to yelp in surprise.

You honestly had no clue what you were doing. You knew you were being intimate with Belphie, but how did you get to this point? One second you two were cuddling, and the next he asks you to help with his hard on.

You didn’t realize there was so much to the bedroom world. There were different positions? Styles? Ways of pleasuring people? What on earth is a breastjob? Is that like plastic surgery?

Before you could say anything, Belphie could already see you shaking. Hell, you were shaking more than the time he kind of killed you.

He already had his suspicions that you had no idea how this worked, but is that really something to be scared about? He didn’t get it.

Sighing, he tried his best to tell you how it works. He didn’t want to embarrass you by making you say that you’re a virgin allowed, so in a way, he was being nice.

“Put your hands on my dick and suck. Afterwards pull out and put your breasts against it. It would kill you if we did it raw.”

Blushing, you stared at him with wide eyes. So he could already tell you’re a virgin, huh? Was it really that obvious? But before you had time to express your inexperience, and how it was obvious, Belphie unbuckled his pants and removed his boxers. He just wanted his hard on gone, not a therapy session.

Thanks, Belphie. You tried to be nice in your own way.

Letting saliva form in your mouth for a bit, you bring your face closer to his length as you open and start to suck. Belphie’s hands entangled themselves in your locks, guiding you on how to slowly bob, and when to stop.

As you removed yourself from him, he gripped you by the hips and pushed you forward, your breasts against his lower half. Parting your breasts, you push him all the way inbetween, before slowing starting to move up and down.

With the help of Belphie, you gained a steady pace and gradually began bounding on your own. His low groans encouraged you and you went as best you could. With him no longer needing to guide you, he began to squeeze and roll your nipples between his fingers, causing you to cry out in ecstasy as well.

#obey me #obey me hc #obey me swd #obey me headcanons #this is a long one so it took awhile sorry for posting it late #request

[tanzmajor]

endzeit romantik

loosely based on 11x23, bad ending - amara wins and the world is dying.

fandom: supernatural

pairing: crowley/reader

summary: the world is ending - crowley and you share a moment together

warnings: talk of adult themes, end times (the world is literally ending so IDK), light angst, crowley (he's a warning for himself lol), pretty sfw, swear words!

notes: not sure why i wrote this, i was rewatching spn while i was sick and wanted to write some stuff for crowley again. just wanted to capture a moment i guess! im wondering if ppl actually still care about him lol (title means end time romance)

word count: 2.3

The world was ending again because of the entitlement of the Winchesters. Earth would finally pay the price for their stubborn refusal to let the other die.

And you hoped that this time it would end for good.

It wasn’t the comfortable quiet before the storm like the last few times. This time, it felt so real – the end was finally so close for all of you. It wasn’t like those other moments, where you prepared to fight some greater evil that you could actually defeat. Amara was harsh – making sure things would end slow and surely. She made sure, that God was dying for good.

You remembered the apocalypse to be more light-hearted than all of this – you remembered sitting at the table with Ellen and Jo, encouraging Castiel to drink along with you. Seeing how much it would take for Castiel to feel something close to being tipsy. Given the circumstances, it was one of the fonder memories you had of that time.

This time you were stuck in the bunker with an even weirder cast of faces, including but not reserved to God. You were unfamiliar with those surrounding you. Not even the uncomfortable smile that Castiel would throw into your direction when you looked at him could fix that discomfort.

And what the strangest thing about all of this was, was how numb you were towards it all.

You never had to truthfully answer the question of what you would do when the world was about to end. The answer to that had always been decided by others, you just went with the flow – you never spared a thought about calling your family or taking that once-in-a-lifetime risk. But now you were sitting there, not talking or drinking like the others around you. You were sulking in a chair off to the side with furrowed brows – really reconsidering the choices you had made that had led you down to this path.

You should’ve run far away when Sam had approached you back then. Telling him to fuck off and never contact you ever again – you assumed that if you had done that, you’d be spending the last few hours that you had on this pitiful planet with your actual family.

You quietly thought about texting your mother. But what would you say? If you’d text her that you loved her out of nowhere – she would call and be concerned. How does one even break to their mother that the world was going to end soon?

You rubbed your tired eyes briefly. Maybe you should finally finish the last few pages of the book on your nightstand. At least then you could pass knowing you accomplished something meaningful today.

“Care to share a drink with me?”

It was that familiar voice that had given you a heart attack so many times before. You looked up to meet the gaze of Crowley looking down at you, ignoring the others around him like he always seemed to do when he was interacting with you. Dean shot you two a heated glare, a subtle warning to either you or Crowley. You weren’t sure if Dean was trying to tell you to be careful, or if he was threatening the man in front of you. Not that it would matter anymore anyways. Crowley twisted the bottle of scotch in his hand ever so slightly, letting you know that it was what he was talking about.

Spending your last hours next to the supposed King of Hell. Fitting. If there had been a greater logic behind all of the things that had happened today, this would be the next step. You silently wished that things would stop getting weirder and stranger – the thickness in the air of it all was slowly but surely suffocating you. You decided however, that Crowley had different plans. He would take advantage of situations like these – like he always does.

“Ah – I don’t see why not.”

You shifted in your seat to find a comfortable position for your back. Your hair fell into your face, and you quickly brushed it behind your ear. Now was not the time to worry about your looks.

You watched Crowley grab a glass for you and fill it up with the promised, amber liquor. You weren’t a big fan of the taste of pure alcohol, but it wouldn’t matter anyways. You were struggling to feel anything other than despair, and getting a little bit tipsy too fast seemed like a welcome distraction right now.

You watched his hand push the glass closer to you. You had taken his usual spot in the library corner – a tinge of guilt mixed into your other feelings. But only briefly. You nodded towards Crowley as you took the glass into your hands. He smirked at you. You furrowed your brows.

“What?”

You took a sip and watched him push a chair for himself next to you. He sat down, his own glass firm in his grip. His gaze seemed fixed on you. Something was on his mind and you could see it in the way he was looking at you. You didn’t have enough time to properly take the King of Hell apart in your head though. Not that you could anyways, you assumed that it was a task that would take you forever. Eternity if not.

“You trying to make some last deals or something?”

You watched his eyes roll. No one in the room seemed to pay attention to the fact that he was talking to you – not that he could do anything to you anyways. It was like you two were hidden away, behind the corner to yourselves. You assumed that Dean had a tiny bit of his leftover concentration fixed on you. You were frustrated by how overly protective he was being. It felt like a testimony to Dean’s selfishness – that he had the right to decide for you. Crowley spoke, and tilted his head to the side like he usually did.

“Would you like to?”

You huffed a laugh and smiled into your drink. It was an honest laugh, finding it amusing that he decided that now, this moment, would be the right time to cozy up to you.

“I don’t think I have any last wishes.”

“Well, let me know if you change your mind.”

With that, he returned to himself. Obviously reconsidering things as well – although you doubted that he was thinking about anything that could eat away at his conscience. He was a demon, so you weren’t really sure if there truly was anything that he regretted. Maybe he was thinking about his accomplishments, maybe Hell hadn’t been so easy on him after all.

You watched his features, and you could tell he was ignoring your hard gaze. There was tiredness surrounding him, like the centuries he had spent roaming this earth finally settling into his stolen bones. It was that expression he had when he thought that no one was watching. An expression only you ever seemed to really notice. You wondered if he ever got any rest. If he even had the need for a break.

You didn’t bother asking him any of that. You knew full well that even if the world was ending, there wasn’t any good reason to be growing soft on the King of the damned. Although, he did lose his shine in the past few years. He wasn’t as terrifying as he used to be. Maybe he didn’t want to scare you.

You told yourself that it was the desperation in you speaking. The end was so close you could feel it with your entire body – it was natural to struggle and yearn for something intimate. A soft moment between you and anyone, a love confession even. Something unexpected. Something to shake you to the core, to make you forget that it would soon all be gone. For a moment at least.

Maybe you should ask Crowley to come into your bedroom with you. To have fun while it lasts. He didn’t look too bad, and the prospect of doing something so wrong with him, would for sure change your mood for a while. You looked away from Crowley. You hoped that nobody was listening to your thoughts right now.

“I always liked you the best.”

You startled slightly when he spoke again, your eyes trailing from the hand on his glass up towards his face. You never had the chance to get such a close look at him. You weren’t sure what to do with the time at hand. You huffed.

“I’m flattered.”

You watched him take a sip of the liquor. He spoke again.

“You should be.”

Your eyes met his. There was something unspoken going on right now, as if he was trying to shift the conversation towards something specific. Maybe he had just taken pity in you. Maybe he had grown attached to you more than he would like to admit. He could also just be feeling gracious, trying to do something with the situation at hand.

You could hear Dean and Sam talk – both obviously trying to do the same as you and the others. Making something out of this. Enjoying the time while it lasts. But you also noted, that Dean seemed somewhat intoxicated. You knew that you all felt the same way – guilty. You had failed.

You downed the rest of the scotch – it burned in your throat. You shook your head slightly and scrunched up your nose. Something he noticed, but didn’t mention directly. You refilled your glass.

“You don’t drink often, do you?”

He asked, his gaze following your movements carefully. As if he would miss something if he didn’t.

“I try to not make it a habit.”

He squinted his eyes at you. You were quick to add something to your sentence.

“I’m not really a fan of the hard stuff.”

You shrugged your shoulders, sitting back down and leaning your head back to let it rest against the cushion of the seat. You looked at him with your tilted head. Your legs were stretched out. No matter what you did, the stress that wore at you wouldn’t release itself from your body. You weren’t sure if maybe you should get up and move around or do something else altogether.

“Can you blame me?”

“Oh, no not really. It’s not like you surround yourself with people of class.”

He said, rather amused. You knew he was talking about the Winchesters and their tendency to stick to what they knew. Cheap beer, cheap hotels and even cheaper food. You bit your lip, an amused smile now too on your face. Maybe this truly was his way of flirting with you without getting another demon-killing knife attached to his hand. He wanted something from you – what he wanted, you weren’t sure of. It’s not like it would be useful for him to make a deal with you. Both of you wouldn’t be sticking around for another 10 years anyways.

You couldn’t deny that your tendency to remain neutral towards him had always been something you despised yourself for. You weren’t sympathetic towards him – but he wasn’t someone you actively watched out for. You knew that the Winchesters were aware of this, so they usually tried to keep you away from him.

His manipulation tactics never worked on you, but it’s not like you really held your guard up around him. To you – he was like Castiel. Someone who faded in and out of your daily life. You didn’t even bother seeking him out when he had been stuck in the bunker with you, in the dungeon. You just knew that ever since he saw you and interacted with you while Sam couldn’t do the dungeon duties, he was drawn to you. As if something about the fact that the brothers tried to desperately keep him away from you was urging him to spend as much time with you as possible.

He couldn’t give less of a fuck about the Winchesters. But if a demon even thought about pointing a knife towards you?

You ignored those memories. You noted that Dean had put on some music. A song you didn’t recognize. You shifted in your seat to look around the corner to see Crowley’s mother, whose name you never seemed to remember, and Chuck sitting at the long table and talking about nothing particular at all. You assumed that Chuck himself would just ignore what was happening. Like always.

Sam caught your eyes and nodded at you. All of you were so fucking unsure of what to do, how to react or how to feel. You assumed that maybe only the non-human beings in the room with you were somewhat okay with all of this. That they in the slightest, maybe didn’t even particularly care about the situation at hand.

Crowley hadn’t really bothered to continue the conversation, more than contempt to just sit next to you and listen in to what Dean was now saying. Not that he was saying anything important of course, but at least he was doing something. You weren’t sure why he had asked you to drink with him anyways. Maybe he just didn’t want to be alone. You were one of the few people in the room who wouldn’t turn him down, and he knew that.

Maybe he wanted something much different from you, but wasn’t sure how to voice it without making anybody around you suspicious of his intentions.

“If you want something from me you can just say it. I’m not really in the mood to care about consequences anyways.”

You chuckled into your glass, the ridiculousness of the situation feeling light-hearted on you. Maybe the alcohol helped just a little bit as well - to loosen you up. He once again looked you in the eyes.

“And here I thought I was so good at being subtle.”

Your expression was teasing – something he wasn’t used to seeing from you. The world was ending and you were flirting with the King of Hell. You couldn’t make that shit up.

“You used to be better at it.”

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