#and the Immortal wedding story

[gravity-what]

Me, listening to music and getting a story idea while driving: ah yes. Inspiration.

The song switches, creating a whole new mood and idea for another story: no wait! I’m not ready yet! I have to finish the other story in my head first!! [it’s too late. The new story has begun. I am now cursed with many story ideas]

#I have many Xiaolin Showdown ideas based on a single song #mostly ones with Dashi’s crew #i am quite fond of their unique form of chaos #there is the Dashi meeting Wuya story #and the kids travel to the past to get a Wu fixed story #and the Sun Wukong story #and the Yin-Yang yo-yo story #and the Immortal wedding story #there are…many stories #they sit #in fragments #will they ever see the light of day? #maybe

[pollyanna-nana]

Imagine you’re Delgal. Imagine you were raised from birth alongside the court jester. You do everything together. You look up to him, being so much older. He seems wise and responsible, and always encouraging you and caring for you, more than your own busy parents are able to. In every sense of the word, he is your brother, despite how different you look and the distance of your station. The people around you tell you that he is an elf, the tone of their voice implying that’s something scary or even dangerous. But you disagree. That’s Thistle, your big brother.

But… as you age, things become confusing. You get taller, smarter, stronger, and Thistle is there for you through it all. Only… he never seems to change. In your entire journey to adulthood, he hardly seems to have aged a few years, if that. It’s amusing when you first grow taller than him, then grow facial hair, while Thistle’s short stature and youthful face remains the same. Still, you love him, love his music and his wit and even the bold-faced honesty that gets him in trouble if you’re not around to diffuse the situation. You wonder why such a person has been relegated to the inglorious job of jester, and your father tells you very simply that the magic elves wield is too powerful and dangerous to belong to any other position. But you think that’s nonsense, you’ve trusted Thistle from the day you were born and would do so until the day you die.

It isn’t until what should’ve been the happiest day of your life that you truly start to understand just how different Thistle is from you. Kneeling over your father’s cooling corpse, you take in the elf’s panicked face. He’s so young, so unchanged, and in that moment he seems nearly immortal to you. You’ve heard the stories of elf magic, how their spells could be used to heal wounds and raise the dead, but Thistle can’t do any of that. He hasn’t been allowed to. There’s nothing that either of you can do but watch your father slowly die in front of you.

You never want this to happen again, not when there’s something that can stop it. You make Thistle the court sorcerer, even as your advisors warn against it. But you’re the king, goddamn it, and you trust him. But more than that, you want what he can give to you. A power greater than any tallman could achieve. You become busier and busier, only checking up occasionally on his studies. He’s become incredibly proficient in a short amount of time, but your thoughts are elsewhere. Enemies knock on your door, famine chokes the population, and worst of all your beloved son has fallen ill. It’s just like the day of your wedding, but this time, you have something that can defy that fate. Thistle.

But still, it’s not enough. It seems that even elf magic has its limits, and you can’t help but become angry with him. He reacts like a scorned child— is a scorned child, as you’ve come to realize— and you apologize. But he tells you he has something secret to show you, something he’s been searching for, researching for these past few years. The idea unsettles you, but you’ve become desperate, and you can see that he has, too. So you follow him into the dungeon, watch him smash the statue of your kingdom’s guardian and pull the book from the rubble that would decide your and your people’s fate.

Your son is healed, your enemies repelled, and your people fed and taken care of. You’re happy, and so Thistle is, too. You recognize, vaguely, that despite this achievement the familial bonds between the two of you have never been thinner. But you don’t dwell on it. He did what you needed him to do, and now you no longer had to fear the indignity of death or strife.

But of course, things do not remain sweet forever. Thistle has only grown more attached to you, more loyal, and his behavior has become erratic and strange. He keeps you all cooped up in the dungeon, insisting that the outside world is too dangerous. There’s a hardness to his still-youthful features that you never saw throughout all those years growing up alongside him. Slowly but surely the person in your memory is replaced by something frightening, almost repulsive, after he strips your own son’s soul from his body. He seems so unaffected by it all, so… inhuman.

Eventually he decides to give you what you said you wanted all those years ago: to no longer fear death. To become immortal. But it is not what you had hoped for— every day seems to drag into infinity, with joy and mirth seeping rapidly from the unsettled townsfolk as decades, then centuries pass. Thistle has become entirely unapproachable, spending all his time fortifying the dungeon and watching obsessively for any signs of traitors that might challenge the throne. You feel hopeless in it all. No matter how you beg, he never seems to hear you. His power is overwhelming and you fear how he might react to more direct commands. The guilt is intense… you know you pushed him into this, pushed him to find a way to achieve everlasting peace at any cost. But this cost is too much. How could he not see that?

1000 years. 1000 years of this torture, and the population of your kingdom has dwindled to almost nothing. In your dreams you see the vision of a golden lion in chains, its wings pinned as it pleads with you to save it. To save your kingdom, to put the remaining souls to rest. You know what needs to be done, it’s told you the best way. You tell the mad mage that you wish to have dinner together with the whole ‘family’— just like the olden days— and the way his face lights up is almost enough to make you reconsider. Almost.

It was a lie, of course. While he’s distracted you take your son’s empty body, making your way to the surface as fast as your legs can carry you. You know what’s about to happen. You’ll become nothing but dust, but you’ll be free. And with any luck, soon everyone else will be, too. Breaching the surface you get the first rays of sun on your face in a millennium, take your last breaths of fresh air as you tell the story that will free your kingdom.

As you crumble away to nothing, a last thought enters your mind. Perhaps they were all right. Perhaps it was a mistake to trust an elf.

#polly speaks #dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #thistle dungeon meshi #Delgal #dungeon meta #thistle posting #anyway. how we doin #I think Delgal’s so interesting as a character bc I kind of hate him but also have no idea how to feel abt him #so. potential character thought study

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Ghost masterlist

(Ghost art by Coruja3571/Twitter)

I Never Missed You {Bodyguard AU. Romance, smut, light angst, 18+}

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader | He must be trained to be so calm, but you're not. You're used to making men a little stupid and flustered. You're used to men eating out of your hand. He's not behaving at all like he's supposed to... Simon Riley is just a mountain without emotion.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Anhedonia {Smut, hurt/comfort, 18+}

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader | You would lick that blade clean if he asked gently, but he's not gentle. You'd flatten your tongue on his thighs too, if he asked nicely, if there was a chance he might pet your hair while you do it – but Ghost doesn't take pets. He only has soldiers. Subordinates.

Part 1 (5.5 k) | Part 2 (4.4 k)

Ghost stories {Smut, angst, Ghost POV, 18+}

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x FMedic!Reader | It's only work that awaits him. From dawn till dusk, with hungry arms and a cold, dead cunt.

Refugee (6.5 k) | Lazarus (5.7 k) | Immortal (5.5 k)

Man-sized {Romance, flangst, smut, 18+}

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!OC | Not only did he contact her, he sent her a picture of himself looking like… like war. The tired eyes stared at her from inside what looked like the top of a human skull attached to a black balaclava. He wasn't a foot soldier, or a mercenary, he wasn't even working for the UK version of a SWAT team. He was something else.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Love is a Heavy Weapon (sequel to Man-sized on Ao3)

On Sarah & Simon's wedding How did the shibari class go? Will they ever have kids? Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Drabbles & headcanons [18+]

Ghost x Virgin!Reader (2.9 k) This is not a Drill (2.2 k, size difference) Wildflowers Grow in Ruins (5 k, Reader tries to break up with Ghost) Couldn't Love You More (3.7 k, breeding kink)

Random headcanons Getting into a relationship with Ghost What would it take to win Ghost's heart?

#simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley fluff #simon riley smut #cod fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost x oc #simon riley x oc

[ohdeerfully]

hi! I have a request, I've never really done this before but I'll give it a shot. so my request is that Charlie is tasked by heaven to watch over a very special human soul via a device that is like a full 360 VR kind of setup and this soul just so happens to be Alastor's immortal wife (he didn't know she was) whom he thought had died with him during a bad event and wound up in heaven but she didn't and She stayed the same since the 1930s like her looks stayed the same and her love for Alastor stayed too she never once tried to move on even when her new friends in this time tried to get her a guy but she just refused still wearing the wedding ring her gave her

I hope it's not too much to ask it can be changed to whatever you see if you have full creative control over it!

thank you for your brain anon

theres a couple awkward POV shifts in the story and im super duper sorry about that D: im not good at those

An Eternity

alastor x reader (angst) TW: reader is female, reader gets a lil drunk and drives but shes fine(i do not condone this pls dont drink and drive im so serious), yearning goes ouchie ):

join my discord!

◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈

Alastor rarely, if ever, talked about his time alive. He saw it pointless; a waste of time and energy. How could it benefit him if somebody else knew his history? If anything, it would only open up weak points. And, being an Overlord, he couldn’t afford that.

The only hint of his past was a band on his finger that he never took off. Even after decades in Hell, nobody saw him without it.

People often asked, of course, because how in the Hell did the Radio Demon get hitched? Even in life, he was probably just as unusual and off putting. These questions were always met with a dismissive wave and a laugh, but anybody who knew him—which wasn’t many, truly—would recognize the strain in his voice as he brushed them off. Whatever the story was seemed to only grow more painful with time.

He was deep in thought, humming absently as he trailed through the hotel. He ended up meandering by Charlie’s room, which was cracked open. He took this as an invitation to let himself in, cheerfully grinning as he saw the girl sitting on the edge of her bed looking extremely confused.

“Hello, dear!” He announced himself, standing up straight and fixing his bowtie with one hand. “What does this afternoon have in store for the Princess of Hell?”

“Heyy, Al,” Charlie responded, still frowning at the contraption in her hand. It was a rather bulky thing; an unappealing piece of new technology, Alastor decided. Still, he loomed from behind Charlie with a curious bend in his neck. Her shoulders were stiff, and he couldn’t tell if it was from frustration with the thing in her hand or discomfort at him watching her. 

“What is that peculiar thing?” He finally asked, since Charlie made no attempt at explanation. She seemed too focused to really pay him any mind.

“Something Heaven gave me to watch some curious soul they can’t control,” She murmured, fiddling with a couple buttons and knobs. “They’ve got me doing some ridiculous things. I mean, some human soul shouldn’t even concern me. But, they promise these favors will help with my hotel.”

Alastor hummed in response. He of all demons would recognize a manipulation tactic when he saw one—convincing a powerful demon princess to do your chores and promising to help her desperate project in return seemed like something the angels would do. He didn’t care one way or another, as long as Charlie’s naivete didn’t get in the way of his own goals.

He took a few steps back when Charlie stood, seemingly finished with setting up the box. He grinned, amused, when she pulled it over her head. It wasn’t the most flattering thing, and pretty bulky on her face. She looked ridiculous, honestly.

“Modern technology,” He sighed dramatically, leaning down onto his cane as he continued to observe her. “Only getting uglier.”

Charlie didn’t respond to his comment, looking around at what Alastor saw as nothing. She played around with the settings again, and adjusted the straps on her head again, before looking around again. She let out a successful sounding “hell yes” before pulling a remote of sorts from her pocket. She pushed on a joystick.

“What are you doing?” Alastor asked plainly, the building curiosity finally becoming too much. “Why do you have a box on your head?”

“It’s like…” She began to explain, trying to think of how to make sense of it to him. “Like… imagine you were looking through the eyes of somebody else, but still standing in the same spot..?” Her voice tilted at the end, unsure of her explanation.

Yeah, no, Alastor had no clue. But he dismissed it as unnecessary, as he often did with any technology he couldn’t understand.

“I’m seeing… Earth, I guess,” Charlie explained more. “Following around this girl.”

Alastor was only partially listening, humming quietly to himself as he just observed. He wondered if he should just leave—nothing interesting was happening. He was curious to see what antics Heaven was pushing on the Princess of Hell, though.

“Wanna try?” Charlie offered, lifting the headset up away from her eyes. Alastor immediately scrunched his nose up and narrowed his eyes.

“And look as ridiculous as you? Hah! No thank you,” He sat down on a chair near the wall, leaning against the back of it. He threw one leg up over the other. Charlie shrugged in response, and pulled the contraption back down.

Alastor sat for a while, absently thinking about what he wanted to do later as he waited for something to happen.

“Oh! Hold on,” Charlie suddenly said, causing Alastor’s ears to straighten to attention as she reached up and pressed a button. A holographic projection appeared out of nowhere, manifesting through some strange magic. “Forgot I could do that. This is what I’m seeing in here.” 

Alastor stood and walked closer, leaning forward on his cane as he studied the projection. It seemed like some kind of bar. He mused at how different modern bars looked from the speakeasies he would frequent during his own life.

“What heavenly task are you doing in a bar?” He joked, trying to find something interesting in the projection. It just seemed like generic bar business. Loud, flirtatious women and boisterous, over confident men. That, at least, was the same from his day.

“Like I said earlier,” Charlie explained, looking around the room. The projection seemed to follow her movement, and Alastor recognized that he was basically seeing through her eyes. How curious. “There’s some… soul they lost control of. And they want me to report to them about her.”

Alastor was very curious to see what kind of soul broke from control of literal heaven. He watched rather intently, leaned forward against his cane to watch the projection.

Charlie turned another knob, and the sound of tacky pop music and loud chatter began to emanate from the bar scene. Alastor wasn’t a fan of newer music, but he was often forced to listen anyway in the hotel lobby.

“Is it possible to turn down that dreadful noise?” He complained to her, announcing his dissatisfaction.

“No. I need to be able to hear what the woman is saying,” Charlie answered stubbornly. Alastor’s microphone of a cane began to obnoxiously play a song of his choice for a moment in retaliation, but died down after a few moments. After all, Charlie ignored his attempt at aggravation, so there was no point in keeping it up.

Charlie looked around the bar, searching. Finally, her gaze settled on a fancier booth with half drawn curtains. From her angle, she could only see a woman. She looked frustrated.

“---get out of your shell! It’s about time you start talking to some guys for once,” Charlie caught the tail end of the woman’s statement. She was gesturing wildly around, exasperation evident in the jagged movements. “I’m sick of watching you pine for somebody who’s been gone for ages.”

★

“Ten years isn’t ages, Mechiele,” You drew your finger against the table, making shapes with the rim of water that the condensation from your glass left. Nearly a hundred years, more like, You commented to yourself. You never told anybody that you were an immortal being. Nobody believed you when you did, anyway.

You sat your cheek against the palm of your hand and lifted your gaze to your friend, who looked at you with a sharp frown. You shot her a weak smile. 

“Can you just drop it?” You asked, nearly pleading. You didn’t want to cry tonight, being a little tipsy—you were an emotional drunk. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself blabbering about a dead husband.

“Come on,” Mechiele said impatiently, pushing your pleas aside. “There’s so many hot guys in here, I bet one would just love to take a piece of work like you home and-”

“Mechiele.” You hoped your tone was enough to shut her up.

You should’ve known better, honestly. Mechiele was already abrasive when she was sober, but with the amount of drinks she’s had tonight…

“No, no, no! You bum! Get your ass up right now and get out there! And take that ring off while you’re at it!”

Mechiele quickly lunged at you, a much too playful look in her eye considering how pissed you were right now. You yanked your arm away from her grasp, cupping your hand protectively with the other, shielding the golden band on your finger from her.

“Fucking drop it!” You snapped at her, standing from your seat. “I’m going home. You’re too drunk. I’ll drive.”

“You’re so fucking lame,” Mechiele droned, falling back into her seat. She wouldn’t budge when you urged her to stand and come with you. “He’s fuckin’ dead! Get a new man, already! Alastor’s not-”

Mechiele stopped abruptly when you smacked her. It wasn’t an incredibly hard smack or anything, barely enough to leave a red bloom on her cheek, but it was enough. She looked at you through narrowed eyes. You returned the same expression.

You left the booth and stormed off, cursing under your breath about it all. About Mechiele, about this stupid bar, about the tipsy feeling in your head, about Alastor—

You folded your arms together as you briskly walked to your car, yelling in frustration at your heels and ripping them off your feet. The ground was a little wet and cold, but you didn’t care. After making it to your car, you threw yourself in an switched it on.

You thought for a few moments. You were lightheaded after a few drinks, but you really didn’t want to wait for a taxi. You’d probably be fine, yeah? Sure. Against your better judgment, you began to drive.

It was a long drive, but it gave you some time to think.

You missed him. You pined for him. Nearly every night was agony, missing the presence of the only man you’ve ever fallen in love with.

You cursed whatever higher power there was for making you this way—immortal. How cruel it was, to make you live forever to suffer this longing. You didn’t even notice when you ended up in your room, but you let yourself fall face first onto your bed, curling up into a ball.

Even more, you cursed yourself for ever falling in love. You should’ve known it would only lead to an endless torture of heartbreak. You would never love anybody the same; although, you don’t think you’d want to, even if you could.

You were born to suffer. To spend an eternity in life without him.

★

Charlie continued to watch in shock for a few moments, her mouth dropped at the mention of the Radio Demon’s name. The previously hidden woman stepped from the bar, a furious look in her eyes as she stormed away. Mechiele was left with stubbornly folded arms and an empty glass of alcohol.

“Heyyy, uh, Al, how common is your name..? Do you know…” Charlie asked a bit awkwardly. She got no response. She lifted the headset, and realized he was gone. Even still, there seemed to be a lingering feeling of intense static, and the air somehow felt a bit heavier than before.

★

This had to be some cruel, sick joke, right? Heaven had to be toying with him, finally finding a way to torture his soul. His wife—she was dead. It had been nearly a hundred years since he died, and even if she had lived till she was old—

Alastor was pacing his room, ears pinned and eyes wide in frantic thought. Oh, how he yearned for her. He had managed for so long to push the memory of her away, to lock up his loss in a tight cage as he climbed the ranks of hell; it had all come rushing, barreling, torrenting back when he had seen her—or, no, somebody that looked like her—step out of those curtains. It was only a coincidence that that woman looked like his wife, and only a coincidence that she had a dead husband that shared his name.

His wife was in heaven, no doubt; which was where she belonged, of course, but Alastor had spent the last decade pining for somebody who he could never see again. If given the choice, Alastor wasn’t so sure himself if he was kind enough as to not tear her soul from Heaven and down to Hell by his side. Alternatively, even if Charlie’s idea of redemption were to work, Alastor was truly irredeemable. It was all wistful thinking, anyway.

Alastor’s claws dug into the curtains of his window, staring out into the streets of Hell in an attempt to concentrate on one steady stream of thought.

When billions of people touch the Earth, it’s only natural that coincidences like this rise. Right? He tried desperately to convince himself of different possibilities. It just made no sense.

A knocking at his door made Alastor’s grin curl in deadly malice. He really wasn’t in the mood.

He paced to his door, opened it just enough to fit his body in the frame, and glared down at Charlie. She was wringing her hands together nervously, and only seemed to grow more timid as the heavy, almost palpable ambience of his radio static filled the hallway she stood in.

“I’m busy,” Alastor said bluntly. His lips were curled in a sneer.

“I can tell,” Charlie responded. "I know you don't like talking about yourself-" She began to ramble on about him talking to her about his feelings and whatnot, but Alastor didn’t listen as he shut the door again.

Though, the interruption did give his mind a chance to slow. He sat on a chair in the corner of his room, and opted to fiddle with the radio on the drawer next to him. He tuned it—or, more just magically infused it—to play some jazz to try to keep his head level.

It would take some time to rebuild the dam that held back the memories of his wife. Even just the mere thought of her made him feel weak, and he hated it. The only soul he was capable of falling in love with—gone, forever.

Alastor never took the whole “eternity of damnation” thing seriously, considering the power he held and how comfortable he really was in Hell. However, when he remembered her—

Hell truly was torture. And he was cursed to spend his eternity in death without her.

#ohdeerfully #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader angst #angst #mutual pining OM NOM NOM NOM #i love angst im sorry guys

[user-needs-new-hyperfixation]

I like that in The Ghost King's Bedtime Story extra Hua Cheng says, "the night we consummated our marriage" instead of "our wedding night." And even in the story Xie Lian is reading the consummation does not immediately follow the marriage. I like the thought that even once they were married they took a while to get there. And given the fact that there seem to be several truths woven through the creative liberties of the myth, I like that in the story it's the Scrap Immortal who initiates the consummation (albeit for duplicitous reasons, which I don't at all think actually happened). It's just very sweet that the implication is that they took their time, and when Xie Lian was ready he asked (probably just as adorkably as he did in the story) and Hua Cheng, naturally, said, "Of course."

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian #tgcf spoilers #heaven official's blessing spoilers

[tossawary]

When writing fanfiction, there are a lot of unknowns surrounding Mobei-Jun that I answer based on what I think is compelling, funny, and/or contrasts well against SQH | Airplane Bro. (Sometimes, based on what contrasts interestingly and/or hilariously against Luo Binghe or Shen Qingqiu.) The choices I make for MBJ also depend on what suits that particular story.

An interesting question: "What kind of literature does Mobei-Jun like?" He's Airplane Bro's Ideal Man / Dream Guy! It's fun to think about what Mobei-Jun's relationship might be to fiction.

One choice that I've pulled a few times now is having Mobei-Jun be functionally illiterate, mostly because I think that situation is an interesting / amusing contrast to the guy who technically wrote the world into existence. Airplane Bro was cranking out thousands of words per day to eat, selling out his honest passion for literature, and Mobei-Jun can't / doesn't read.

There are lots of different potential reasons for this! Maybe Mobei-Jun is dyslexic. Maybe he desperately needs reading glasses and doesn't realize it. (Yes, maybe half of his glaring is just squinting.) Maybe his education was really bad because his family tried to murder him too many times. Maybe he just doesn't have any interest in fiction or in reading as a hobby in general, because paper / writing is rare in the Demon Realm for a variety of reasons and he's been busy building more relevant skills.

(Airplane Bro is shocked and offended, yes, but mostly because Mobei-Jun somehow successfully hid being unable to read from him for two or more decades. All of those "you read it" and "you write it" orders suddenly make so much sense.)

Another direction for "Mobei-Jun's relationship to media" that I've been enjoying lately as a premise is that Mobei-Jun is the sort of person who would have genuinely enjoyed "Proud Immortal Demon Way". But, like, in a weird way. Like, maybe Mobei-Jun isn't there for the women or the power fantasy, but he's fascinated by the cage of dissatisfaction, misery, and cruelty that the protagonist is building around himself using empty pleasures and merciless vengeance. Mobei-Jun is there for the tragedy. Everyone else in the comments section would think that he's a weirdo for different reasons, including Airplane Bro, but Mobei-Jun is (by accident) operating on a level where he sees the vision.

Alternate direction on "Mobei-Jun would like PIDW, actually": maybe he would like it because he actually loves trashy drama and stupid catfights. He's there for the comedy. He grew up in an environment where his father stole his uncle's wife and his own uncle tried to kill him multiple times, after all. In PIDW itself, right-hand man Mobei-Jun somehow successfully suffered years upon years of Luo Binghe's harem nonsense, and maybe Mobei-Jun was having the time of his life watching Sha Hualing start shit in the harem, actually!

Maybe in a Modern AU, Airplane Bro would try to sound intelligent and cultured by talking to his rich boss / boyfriend about classy literature, only to find out that Mobei-Jun basically only watches reality television competitions where people are constantly trying to tear each other's hair out for money. If people aren't screaming in each other's faces over a spilled glass of wine, throwing plates at each other over a stolen boyfriend or a ruined wedding, or backstabbing each other via wardrobe sabotage to get ahead, then Mobei-Jun is bored. Fighting matches or extremely dangerous sports are also fine, though, sure. (Airplane Bro doesn't like any of this stuff. He's a fantasy novel guy. He has no idea how to react to this.)

Another funny direction for "Mobei-Jun's relationship to media" is that maybe "Proud Immortal Demon Way" wouldn't actually be weird ENOUGH for Mobei-Jun's tastes. Maybe Mobei-Jun would be like that guy who claims "if I can guess the twist, then it's not suspense - suspense is when I don't know what's going to happen next, period" and reads long-running, amateur, foreign, abstract web-novels that he has to put through an online translator himself. Maybe in a Modern AU with this opinion, Mobei-Jun loyally watches telenovelas and Bollywood soap operas. Airplane Bro comes into the room and says, "Wow, not even any subtitles? You can understand what they're saying?" and Mobei-Jun says sincerely, "No. You have to figure out what's happening without them. This is the intended viewing experience."

#tossawary svsss #mobei jun #shang qinghua #moshang #fic ideas

[diazsdimples]

Do you have any buddie fic recs that is a /must/ read for Buddie shippers ( sorry I don't ship Bucktommy 🥹)

Boy do I ever!!!

honey, when you call my name - @hippolotamus (Explicit)

"Eddie witnesses the Buck/Lucy kiss, has himself a little panic, and decides to do something about it when Buck does his Buck thing and won't stop pushing Eddie's buttons" It's spicy, it's sweet, it's packed full of feels and there was not a dry eye in the house!!

Whatever may come (your heart I will choose) - @hippolotamus (Mature)

"The Story of Eddie and Christopher Diaz" The number of times I yelled at Hippo while reading this,,,, it is incredible!! 30 chapters of Buckley-Diaz family feels, Eddie's heartbreaking backstory and FUCK if I could read it for the first time again, I would!

James Bond AU Series - @princessfbi (Teen & Explicit)

James Bond AU with 007 Agent Eddie Diaz and Buck as Q. Incredible. No notes. Read them back to back in one sitting, and then read them again immediately after. No prior knowledge of James Bond needed (cause I sure didn't have any) but be prepared to have the sudden urge to go watch all the films.

Kink Club AU Series - @princessfbi (Explicit)

"Canon compliant one shots where Eddie works at a Kink Club as a side hustle and meets Buck there before his first shift in 2x01." This series is insanely good. 5 perfect fics of the boys and BDSM, it is incredibly hot, full of feels and just.... yeah. Incredible. Please do read the tags before each fic though, especially if BDSM isn't your thing.

because we'll all arrive in heaven alive - @neverevan (Explicit)

"During a search and rescue, Eddie disappears without a trace, leaving Buck to grapple with the sudden possibility of a life without him." I was literally on the edge of my seat with every single chapter release. It's SO angsty and delicious and absolutely incredible, and I think also very feasible for what could happen in canon should Timothy ever decide to be as mean (affectionate) as Newbie was by putting the boys through this.

Out Of Order, Still In Line - @neverevan (Explicit)

"When Buck finally gets to the Clinic, the long awaited release doesn’t seem to come; cue Eddie to the rescue." One of the first Buddie fics I read and it altered my brain chemistry a little. Lord have mercy. It's just ... you gotta read it. Like, Jesus 🥵

My Blood on Your Skin (My Rose on Your Snow) - @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Explicit)

"When Eddie needs cash and fast to take care of Christopher, his LAFD Academy buddy suggests a job as a bouncer at Elysium - an exclusive sex club in downtown Los Angeles. Eddie doesn't care what goes on there, so long as he's paid, but he finds he cares a lot bout the club's enigmatic owner, Evan Buckley, and it's not long before the two of them are violating every boss-employee rule in the book. But there's something different about Buck and the club, something not quite... human. If Eddie wants to keep Buck, he's going to have to delve into the world of immortals, and all the risks that implies." Honestly I think the blurb says it all. I read this at my cousin's wedding (literally just before the ceremony and during the reception fsdkjdfs) because I literally couldn't put it down. Incredible Greek Gods integration and so. fucking. hot. Sorry Caleb, I hope your matrimony is holy but this was so worth it.

stuck now so long, we just got the start wrong - @daffi-990 (Unrated at present)

"Probational Firefighters Evan “Buck” Buckley and Eddie Diaz meet on a call which ends with them at odds with each other. As the months roll by, they keep running into each other on the job, much to Eddie’s dismay and Buck’s delight. Can they put aside their first opinions and misunderstandings and allow the seeds of friendship, and possibly something more, to take root?" This AU has been eating me alive with snippets for the last few months and the chapters are FINALLY being published!! Stay tuned for weekly updates about our idiots being - well - idiots. Daffi has written them so well and I don't think I could yell louder about this one if I wanted.

Cow Eyes - @theotherbuckley (General)

"'Eddie's in hospital and Buck tries not to break down' fic except its actually just a cute silly little fic" Exactly what is says on the tin. Cute, silly, fluffy and entirely adorable. High!Eddie is fucking hilarious and Worried!Buck has my whole ass heart. Love this fic, have read it many times, will read many times more

Both Blade and Branch - @cal-daisies-and-briars (Mature)

"The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back." Orpheus and Eurydice vibes but somehow more heartbreaking because it's the Boys? Literally every chapter I was gobsmacked and the fact that I couldn't read it in one sitting due to Life™️ was frankly criminal.

what humans do - @gayhoediaz

""…and the thought that she had just escaped death by such a narrow margin made me realize the intensity of my feelings toward her.” Eddie swallows. “‘What’s the matter?’ I couldn’t tell her, so I kissed her instead,” Buck goes on, and since Eddie’s eyes are focused on the page, they drift ahead a little bit, and the next few lines have him swallowing once again, taking his hand back to brace himself against the mattress as he slowly starts to push himself up to sit. “Kissing is what humans do when words have reached a place they can’t escape from. It is a switch to another language. The kiss was an act of defiance, maybe of war. You can’t touch us, is what the kiss said. ‘I love you,’ I told her, and as I smelled her skin, I knew I had never wanted anyone or anything more than I wanted her…” Buck trails off when Eddie reaches for the book, gently luring it out of his grasp. " One of the best getting together fics I've read. So sweet, so hot, full of feels, and also just very 🤯 in many places. Just insanely well written and perfect imagery.

Also I have a small list of authors whom I love dearly:

@spotsandsocks @exhuastedpigeon @wildlife4life @thewolvesof1998 @thekristen999

@steadfastsaturnsrings @watchyourbuck @fortheloveofbuddie @rainbow-nerdss @bidisasterevankinard

@aroeddiediaz @jesuisici33 @wikiangela @loveyouanyway @kitteneddiediaz

@actuallyitsellie @dangerpronebuddie @loserdiaz @elvensorceress @underwaterninja13

@smilingbuckley

Literally anything these wonderful people (and the authors of the above fics) have written is well worth a read. I would rec all of their words and make individual recs for all their fics but I fear I simply do not have the words.

I might also humbly suggest some of my fics, which you can find here! Happy reading!!!

#james answers things #fic recs #buddie fics #buddie #buddie wip #buddie ao3 #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 buddie #911 abc #please don't read too much into the fact that pretty much every single one of these are smut #they're just really fucking good okay?

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Astarion Very Happy Ending, Part 2

Hey y'all, so I did a part two of this because I love happy, insanely, fluffy romantic endings. So I'm going hard here. There will be one more part!

Also, don't judge my Gale x Shadowheart bs here 💀💀 Long story short, first playthrough that was abanadoned, I picked her orgin and did get sweeped up by the mage man. It has not left my brain since.

Also, this has a time skip! A pretty long one too (10 years)

~

Astarion had been having… thoughts lately. Ideas that he couldn’t quite shake. Nothing bad, no. There really wasn’t much to complain about in his life, not anymore. Not when he could walk in the sun freely, unburdened by parasites and his own vampiric nature. The two of you were free to explore the world with no shackles, not including your religious zealotry. And ironically enough, his own. 

Astarion would never have guessed that he’d ever become a Selune convert. Well… even now convert may have been to strong of a word. Yes, he was immensely appreciative for the whole sun immunity blessing and he did have a newfound respect for the work of her worshippers. But Astarion wasn’t exactly looking for a deity, or anyone, to be subservient to. Not again. No, he’d much rather watch his love do the dirty work for his savior than fully commit himself. Besides, just because he wasn’t devoted to Selune didn’t mean he wasn’t devoted to you. Which might as well have been the same thing. 

Astarion loved you, adored you really, but gods could you be nonsensical at times. He was so happy the two of you had met because someone had to keep this idiotic fanatic alive. Someone to remind you that no darling, not everyone is redeemable. Please put the goblin down.

But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy being your protector. It was the least that he could do considering everything you’d done for him. And he just… liked having a valid excuse to accompany you everywhere. Astarion had never imagined himself to be such a clingy lover, but here he was. The two of you had been attached at the hip for nearly a decade now, with no end in sight. You had built a life together, had friends together, adventures and celebrations that filled his days with endless excitement and amusements.

That is one thing Astarion had to give Selune and her worshippers, they didn’t exactly lead boring lives. Though he supposed half of that had to with just how involved the opposition was. The two of you had slaughtered enough acolytes of Shar over the years for him to know just how covert they really could be. But it wasn’t just bloodsport that made things interesting, though it certainly did help. The exploring for ancient artifacts definitely helped to fill the time, as well as the constant search to find a cure for the rest of his unholy symptoms. 

As great as being in the sun was, Astarion wasn’t quite satisfied with that being the end. It was almost certainly impossible to find a full on cure to being a vampire spawn but… that wasn’t stopping either of you from looking for it. It was morbid, but Astarion wanted his life to have an ending. A natural one like what he hoped for you, not one where he was doomed to immortality and bloodlust until the end of time. 

Thank the gods that he had managed to fall in love with an elf. It at least gave him centuries instead of decades to figure out a solution to an eternal problem. Which brought him back to his current problem. Because the two of you had many, many years ahead. And as far as Astarion was aware you both planned on spending them with each other. Which implied… certain things.

Astarion had never been someone to fantasize about marriage. He had no reason to, not when he had been too busy barely surviving. Even when things became serious between the two of you it hadn’t been on his mind. He was much more concerned with keeping you at all instead of keeping you forever. 

But that had changed recently. Maybe it was because he had seen you officiate countless weddings over the years; young couples always clamoring at a chance to get a newlywed Selune blessing. Or maybe it was how others took note of the lack of a ring on his finger, taking it as an opportunity for unwanted flirtation. But either way, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Obsessing about it really, as he was want to do when it came to you.

He just… didn’t exactly know how to broach the subject. What was the reason? A silly little ceremony and a ring had no bearing on the depth of your relationship. He knew that. The two of you were bound to each other by choice, a love that felt as though it got stronger every day. But… it would be nice to have you in such a way. For the world to be aware of the seriousness of what you had together, shown simply through a pair of rings. And the thought of calling you his wife was quite enticing. 

He wasn’t quite sure why he was so hesitant to bring it up to you. Well… there was the slight delusional thought in his head that reminding you of forever could possible wake you up into realizing just how much better you could do than him. It wasn’t true, he was aware. But gods, your relationship had lasted a damn decade. When was he going to start feeling secure about all of this? 

It didn’t help when Gale of all people beat him to the punch. He and Shadowheart had developed quite the bond since your tadpole days. And your excitement over the announcement was adorable. Adorable enough for him to wonder just how you would react to it happening to you.

But he shoved his worries to the back of his mind, too busy being dragged all the way to Waterdeep for the week-long nuptials. You were highly involved in the wedding, which wasn’t exactly a shock. Shadowheart had stayed your best, most appreciated friend throughout the years, the two of you eternally tied through your shared goddess alone. You wrote to each other constantly and this was far from the first time you had dragged him across the realm for a visit. 

But this was probably the best time. He had to give the people of Waterdeep this, they knew how to celebrate. He wasn’t one to complain over a week filled of music, dance, and drink. The ceremony had been nice as well. Heart-warming even to watch Shadowheart walk down the aisle, smiling in a way she never could when she was devoted to Shar. With Gale sniveling at the other end and you officiating of course. 

The jealousy had been an unexpected touch. He couldn’t help but wonder what you would look like in her place. Dressed in white and silver, walking towards him with eternity in mind. 

It certainly wasn’t helping his dilemma, he could tell you that much. He was still thinking about it when they made it to the reception. It was impossible to bury thoughts of marriage when you were at a wedding. Would you want a large celebration like this? Or something more small and intimate? Hells, the two of you and a cleric in the middle of the woods would suffice to him. 

“To think, Astarion Ancunín at my wedding in the sunlight,” Gale laughed as he plopped down in the seat next to him, effectively putting an end to his internal fretting, “Who would have ever imagined?”

“Certainly not me,” Astarion scoffed with the slightest hint of a smile, “But I suppose things change.”

“I suppose they do,” Gale agreed, his eyes scanning the dancefloor for his new bride. There she was, dancing and giggling with you in the middle of ballroom,  “I just never expected it to be for the better.”

“It is a wonder that we’re all still alive,” Astarion agreed, smiling to himself when Shadowheart dipped you as you laughed hysterically, nearly falling over herself in the process, “Let alone being able to find love. Who would have thought the worshiper of the goddess of the dark would end up here.”

“Turns out she was hiding quite the personality behind the Shar mask,” Gale laughed, “Though I suppose we have Tav to thank for that. It was a real fight on who would have her as their best woman. A fight we both obviously lost. Though officiating seemed a good compromise.”

“She certainly has the experience,” Astarion sighed, “But I have a feeling this one will be her favorite. She’s happy for you two. We both are.”

“I’m happy for you too you know,” Gale added with a small smile, “I always thought the two of you would work out. I even made a killing in the pool we had going on for it.”

Astarion stared at him, brow raised, “You had a pool?”

“Oh absolutely,” Gale confirmed, completely shameless as he listed out the rules, “It got quite competitive after awhile. First, it was all about if you’d ever realize your feelings for her. Then when you went and did that we were betting on how long you’d both last before you left. And then when that didn’t happen, well. Let’s just say I got a few platinums richer.”

Astarion rolled his eyes at the news, barely even surprised, “I feel as though I’ve earned a cut of that.”

“Unfortunately it’s now our honeymoon fund. But I’ll owe you one.”

That was another aspect of this whole debacle that Astarion hadn’t even thought about. But gods, did it sound nice. Whole weeks dedicated strictly to the two of you. No religious duties or adventures to worry about, just… them. 

The joy of the thought must have shown on his face, because the next thing he knew Gale was looking him up and down, a small smirk on his lips, “What’cha thinking about over there?”

“That this wine is mediocre at best,” Astarion lied, avoid Gale’s eyes, “Tell me you at least got a good deal on it?”

But Gale wasn’t taking the bait. He was still watching him like a hawk. That was the problem with getting closer to people, and having, gods friends. 

You had to deal with the discomfort of being read like a book, “Does our little Astarion want to be wed?”

Astarion flinched at the accuracy, taking the time to shoot him a glare as he avoided the question, “I am nearly three centuries older than you.”

“Perhaps, but we both know two of them don’t count,” Gale said, barely missing a beat, “So tell me, do you already have a ring picked out?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I can help you pick one you know, there are many fantastic jewelers in Waterdeep. I believe she has the same ring size as Shadowheart, we can bring her along.”

Astarion rolled his eyes, ignoring the small blush creeping up his neck, “I want you to know that if this wasn’t your wedding day I would have slapped you by now. Consider my reluctance as your wedding present.”

“How generous of you,” Gale chuckled. But then he started to speak quieter, his voice taking on a more gentle and serious tone, “She would say yes you know. You’ve had her wrapped around your finger since the day you held that dagger to her throat.”

That was an exaggeration, but Astarion would be lying if he said the mention didn’t make him preen the slightest bit, “You forget that I did have competition.”

“Oh, barely,” Gale laughed, “You don’t get to reminisce of what could have been when you won. Gods, no one had any chance against you. And trust me, we tried.”

Astarion blinked at him, more than a little surprised, “You did?”

“Of course we did. We all did. What do you think Shadow and I bonded over? But the pining stopped eventually. Then it became…something more. Something deeper. She’s… a magnificent woman, my little shadow. Who has gone through too much…” Gale trailed off, his eyes still following his bride as he softly smiled,  “Suffice to say, neither of us are pining anymore. And I’m sure Shadow would love nothing more than to help plan her dearest friend’s nuptials.”

“Who ever said that you two would be involved?” Astarion scoffed, just to be an ass, “For all you know we’ll elope in Neverwinter.”

But Astarion’s grip backfired, if the smile on Gale’s face meant anything, “So that means you are going to propose?”

Oh for fucks sake. Astarion glared at him for the accuracy, at a loss for words. Besides it… it was true. Of course he was going to ask, where else would this fanatic line of thinking end? He just hadn’t expected Gale of all people to be the one to force him to admit it. 

“I-yes,” Astarion sighed, finally giving in, “Are you happy now? Yes, I’m going to.”

“Extremely,” Gale grinned, “Because you just won me another three hundred gold.”

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #cute bullshit #proposal planning #yeah we're getting married #who can stop me #you can't #fluff #fluffy fluffy fluff

[delulustateofmind]

Potions & Shadows (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: An old neighbor of Feyre's is revealed to be not who they seemed when Feyre was a child. Leadign to Feyre needing the once village apothecaries help. Inspired by Frieren: Beyond Journey's End.

A/n: I posted a preview a week or two ago. I enjoyed writing this one, I've been super busy at work and with a family wedding so probably won't have a part two anytime soon. Hope you enjoy! Thank you all for the support on my last few fics! :)

Word Count: 2.5k

Warmings: None? Let me know if there's any.

Feyre would often find herself lost in memories of their old neighbor, a mysterious figure from her childhood spent in the manor with her sisters. Little did she know, her encounter with the apothecary would soon unveil new mysteries. Years later, as Feyre bid farewell before their departure, she decided to revisit the familiar door, hoping to uncover the enigma of the past.

In the hustle of their impoverished days and the chaos of her transition to fae life, Feyre scarcely pondered the mystery. It wasn't until Nesta mentioned seeing the apothecary, unchanged from their childhood encounter, right before the human queen's arrival, that Feyre's curiosity stirred. She made a mental note to pay a quick visit to the apothecary's cottage down the road after their business with the queens concluded.

The meeting with the human queens did not end too well, though they did manage to secure the book. With Rhysand somewhat strict on their schedule, Feyre knew she couldn't risk being late. The crunch of the dirt path under her feet felt oddly familiar yet different in her new fae form. The smells of the pine trees now heightened, and the distant streams seemed closer than ever. Pulling her out of her trance, she arrived at the apothecary’s cottage.

The moss on the roof indicated the cottage had been there for centuries, perhaps even when the village was being built. Feyre walked up and knocked on the door, her heart pounding with anticipation. The shuffling of footsteps inside signaled someone approaching. When the door creaked open, Feyre was met with a familiar face.

A short woman stood before her, her scent unmistakably human, yet intertwined with a hint of something elusive. Her hazel green eyes, flecked with gold and blue hues, seemed to hold secrets as deep as the mountains' morning dew. The apothecary wiped her hands on her apron, stained with various herbs and powders, and greeted Feyre with a small sigh and a bright smile.

"It's you... but different?" she remarked, tilting her head curiously. Feyre released a breathy laugh. "Yeah, you could say I am a bit different... you're back," she whispered.

The apothecary moved aside, inviting Feyre into the familiar interior of the cottage. Bookshelves lined the walls, while towers of books stood around tables filled with bottles and concoctions. The atmosphere was comforting yet tinged with a sense of mystery. As the apothecary made tea, Feyre couldn't help but notice the intricate organization amidst the apparent chaos.

"No longer human, now a fae?" the apothecary mused as she prepared the tea. "Haven't seen that before." She smiled to herself, lost in thought for a moment before continuing. "I always thought you were human, I mean you don't seem fae," Feyre whispered.

"That's because I'm not fae, though I am considered a fae creature," the apothecary explained with a soft smile. "Long story short, as I have a feeling your companions only gave you a few moments to visit. I am half human, half-elven... one of the last of my kind."

Feyre looked puzzled before asking, "How come you don't age? I mean the human counterpart should... make you age, right?" The apothecary poured the tea, the pink hue swirling in the cup, before joining Feyre at the table. "You're right, I should age, but there's this thing called the 'settling.' It's based on mana. The more mana you have, the more likely to reach immortality."

The apothecary glanced up at Feyre with a soft smile. "I stopped aging around... don't know, maybe 19 or 20 years old?" Feyre looked at her in astonishment, trying to reconcile the fragile appearance with the revelation of her age. "How old are you now?" she asked softly.

You smiled, reminiscing about your past travels as you glanced at your spellbooks and then back at Feyre while taking a sip of your tea. "I am roughly 300 years old this year, give or take a few," you admitted with a hint of nostalgia. "You tend to lose count on the road."

Brushing your long hair aside, you pulled up your sleeve, revealing the insignia of an adventurer guild—a small blossom marking. "This is from my guild," you explained. "I'm a mage, so I embark on journeys from time to time. It's how I honed my skills in concocting medicines and remedies."

Feyre looked taken aback, unable to sense any magic radiating from you despite your mage status and half-elven heritage. She was filled with questions, but time was fleeting, and there was much to be done.

As Feyre finished her tea, she felt a sense of urgency creeping in. "Listen... there's something that might be coming, would you watch my sisters?" The apothecary met her gaze with a reassuring smile. "I leave tonight for another quest, but the wards should be stable around their house. I'll reinforce them before I leave."

With a nod of gratitude, Feyre rose from her seat, her mind buzzing with newfound revelations. Little did she know, her visit to the apothecary would mark the beginning of a journey fraught with unforeseen challenges.

******

Certainly, unforeseen challenges indeed. In fact, the wards failed to hold as Hybern seized Feyre’s sisters while you were away on your travels seeking new spell books, a hobby of yours. Across the continent, whispers of war spread like wildfire. Perhaps this was what Feyre had alluded to—a war brewing on the horizon? After completing your quest, you returned home to find a letter from Feyre—a proposition of sorts.

“War is coming, we need healers like you to join us. Let me know your response when you see this.” 

Magic paper? Intriguing, something you will inquire about later on. You write your response. Perhaps, a new adventure wouldn’t be bad. You’ve never visited Prythian before. Given that elves used to be seen as slaves there, that elves were seen to be just one step above humans, being a half-breed who know’s where that would place you. Feyre was kind though, you knew that from the moment you met her. A war would be brutal, if the fae were asking for help, that meant it would be serious enough to involve others. 

“Sure, I’ll give my commitment for a few years,” you wrote. The paper vanished almost instantly, leaving behind a faint scent of smoke—a curious phenomenon indeed. Moments later, a message appeared, promising someone would visit you at the cottage within hours. With a shrug, you began to pack your belongings, including spell books, herbs, clothes, and trinkets. You were prepared.

That's when you met Mor, a lively fae whose energy belied her formidable power. She winnowed you to the healer’s cottage, where Madja, the head healer, resided. Mor apologized and hurriedly departed, leaving you to converse with Madja. The healer welcomed you warmly, showing you to a modest room furnished with essentials. The bed with white bedding and an old green quilt laid on top. Madja pointed out that the nights here might be too cold for creatures like yourself. 

"Haven't seen a human in years," she remarked as she led you to the apothecary storage room. "But I sense something else about you," a twinkle in Madja’s eye hinted at her awareness of your half-elven heritage. You responded with a smile, "Most don’t catch on too quickly," you murmured.

Madja returned your smile, her expression warm yet knowing. "You're probably the last of your kind," she remarked casually, her tone tinged with humor. "Your kind was always more focused on mana and magic than finding love. Perhaps your human side will help you with that," she teased, reaching for a mortar and pestle.

"Now, kid," Madja continued, her demeanor shifting to business-like. "I want to see what you're capable of. Make a few hundred healing potions—some for minor cuts and bruises, and others for those foolish soldiers who find themselves impaled one too many times."

You immersed yourself in your work, with Madja checking in every few minutes to monitor your progress. Impressed by your efficiency, she peppered you with compliments, acknowledging your skill. Together, you labored until late afternoon, the sun casting long shadows across the cottage.

Feyre stopped by to offer a brief greeting before departing to attend to war preparations and assist her newly transformed sisters. Their transformation weighed heavily on your conscience—if only your wards had been stronger, perhaps you could have prevented their fate. Pushing aside the guilt, you ground a few more herbs, determined to focus on the task at hand. Or perhaps you were trying to push that guilt away by keeping yourself distracted. 

The soothing scent of herbs filled the room, mingling with Madja’s quiet humming—a melody unfamiliar to you yet strangely comforting. You found solace in the routine of potion-making, a respite from the chaos of the outside world.

As you worked, memories of your travels surfaced—the thrill of discovering new spells, the camaraderie of fellow adventurers, and the satisfaction of aiding those in need. Though your main quest was to collect spells, you found fulfillment in helping others, a testament to your kind-hearted nature.

Completing the last batch of potions, Madja introduced you to the other healers, who welcomed you with open arms. Over dinner, you exchanged stories of your respective lives—Madja sharing tales of her long existence, while you recounted your travels across distant lands. The other healers listened in awe, their curiosity piqued by your adventures beyond Velaris. Constantly asking questions of your adventures, asking about the dragons you’ve came across. About the handsome warriors that you went through dungeons with. A smile tugged your lips as you bid them goodnight and headed to your room. 

As you lay on your bed, enveloped by the chill of the night air, you found comfort in the warmth of the quilt that Madja had provided. Retrieving a book about defensive magic from your bedside table, you delved into its pages, seeking solace in the familiar words until sleep claimed you. 

****

As the end of the first week approached, you found yourself manning the desk, processing orders for sleeping tonics, stomach remedies, and various other mundane requests. It was the less exciting aspect of your work, but you understood the necessity of attending to such matters. After all, not every day could be spent brewing exotic potions and elixirs. Madja had left to replenish the inventory and wouldn't return until nightfall. Before her departure, she mentioned that someone from the court would be coming to collect a 'private' order and instructed you not to charge them.

As you cleaned the countertop, the door creaked open, and a chilling breeze swept into the room, carrying with it the scent of mist and cedar, tinged with a hint of blood. You looked up and found yourself locking eyes with a figure standing in the doorway. My stars, he was strikingly handsome in a deadly sort of way—a sight that momentarily stole your breath away. You recognized him as an Illyrian, though you had never seen one before. There was something about his wings that instilled a sense of fear in you, even though they remained folded tightly against his back, shrouding his features in shadows.

Azriel dipped his head in acknowledgment, his golden gaze piercing as he spoke in a low, almost hypnotic tone. "I am here to pick up a prescription," he stated, his voice like a captivating melody that seemed to draw you in.

You nodded, trying to maintain your composure as you retrieved the bag containing the requested item. It was a rare occurrence for you to feel flustered, especially in the presence of another. As you handed him the bag, your hands brushed briefly, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth flood your cheeks. The label on the bag revealed its contents—a contraceptive tonic. Oh... he was an active male too.

Azriel murmured his thanks before casting a lingering gaze over you, his expression unreadable behind his hand. As he turned to leave, you couldn't shake the feeling of self-consciousness. Did you smell bad? Was your human heritage too obvious to the fae? Such thoughts raced through your mind as the door closed behind him, leaving you to ponder the encounter long after he had gone.

****

Azriel departed for the House of Wind, where a family dinner awaited. Elaine had begun emerging from her room, while Nesta remained ensconced in her moody disposition. Lucien had ventured to the continent, leaving an absence felt at the table. Feyre was already seated next to Rhys when Azriel arrived, discreetly passing the tonic to Cassian, who muttered a quick thanks before Azriel settled in beside him.

"I didn’t realize Madja had taken on a new apprentice," Azriel murmured, his gaze shifting to Mor as she joined Cassian. Feyre glanced at Azriel, her curiosity piqued. "You met her today? She’s a friend of mine from the village. I knew her growing up," she explained. Azriel took a sip of the wine passed to him by Cassian, his mind wandering to the petite healer who had left such an impression on him.

Elaine's transformation from human to fae had only heightened Azriel's attraction to her, raising questions about his preferences. Was he developing a preference for humans? Could he handle the brevity of their lifespans? Feyre's voice broke through his reverie, drawing his attention back to the conversation. "She’s half-elf too, are they rare?" she inquired.

Rhysand nodded, his expression softening as he delved into the history of elves and their dwindling numbers. "They used to be slaves for the Fae, around the same time as the humans," he began. "Perhaps that's why she has never been to Prythian until now."

He paused, his tone softening even further. "Also, the elves were known to lack emotions, which led to them not reproducing that often, ultimately to their demise. There’s a few around, but not many anymore."

As food was placed on the table, Azriel found himself consumed by thoughts of the healer. Her scent lingered in his mind, reminiscent of cherry blossoms on a warm day. Though he had only met her briefly, he felt an inexplicable pull toward her that tugged at his heartstrings. It was a feeling he had never experienced before.

An idea struck him. "Don’t we need to deliver the potions to the camps? I could help with that tomorrow, I finished the reports," Azriel suggested, turning to Rhysand. A smirk danced on the high lord’s lips—a silent understanding passed between them. "If you want," Rhysand replied casually, gesturing with a wave of his hand. "Perhaps show her around Velaris while you’re at it."

Azriel nodded, anticipation stirring within him. Tomorrow promised to be an intriguing day, his shadows seemed almost restless to meet the little healer again. A new sort of feeling fueled both him and his shadows.

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #feyre acotar

[cocoacat323]

Scum Villian Fic Recs

So, I've been reading fanfiction for a long ass time, longer than I've been on Tumblr and have always loved fic recs, and now I realize I can make my own(yay!), so here it is. None of these are explicit or anything, but they are super good.

A Transmigrator and a Time Traveler Walk Into The Bamboo House Summary:

Over a year after Shen Qingqiu's death, Luo Binghe consults his servant's servant, concurrently his disgraced martial uncle, for a way to bring the love of his life back. Shang Qinghua sends him in the direction of a certain time-traveling artifact, which supposedly brings one to the day they first met their soulmate. Odd, though, that the artifact ends up missing the destination by just a few years…

A story in which post-Abyss Luo Binghe relives his disciple days, while juggling his secrets, traumas, and some unexpected revelations about the man he loves on top of that.

Unveiling The Imposter Summary:

While tracking a suspicious fortune-teller, Shen Qingqiu falls unconscious. The fortune-teller extracts a glowing orb from his body, telling Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge that this Shen Qingqiu is an imposter, and they can see for themselves if they don't believe it.

Alternatively, the Demon Lord and Peak Lords watch Scum-Villain's Self-Saving System.

Characters Watch the Series fanfic. Post-Canon.

High Mountain, How I Long Summary: Shen Qingqiu, after enduring his trial, is placed into Luo Binghe’s custody at Huan Hua Palace.

meta madness Summary: Looking at SVSSS through the eyes of the universe left behind when Airplane and Cucumber died. (Note: Not a fic, but a series, but every fic in it is so good so definitely check it out.)

it's only shameless if you had any shame to loose in the first place Summary: They have not told anyone about their marriage, and at Shen Qingqiu's request, they will only do so once the wedding preparations are done. No one will have time to nag!

But in the meantime, Luo Binghe, demonic lord or not, is only an alpha. He must do something to show off his claim or he'll go insane, he really will. He'll qi deviate terribly, see if he won't.

Fortunately, as thin-faced as he is, his Shizun does not care much for proper dynamic etiquette...

love's worth running to Summary: “Shizun,” he purred, darkly calm despite the anger oozing out of his mock-respectful smile. Luo Binghe's grip on Xiu Ya's blade tightened, and he realised with belated horror that his blood was running down the sword and dripping by Shen Qingqiu's feet. His sword had to be held at an upwards angle now, to reach the place where he pierced him back then.

Shen Qingqiu felt sick. There was something wrong in this dream.

“I ask you again. Do you regret it, Shizun?”

//

Shen Qingqiu can't answer whether he regrets betraying him. Luo Binghe wants his Shizun to understand how he suffered, and drags Shen Qingqiu into his dreamscape of the Endless Abyss that night.

The only problem: Shen Qingqiu isn't waking up.

We Are Not Wise Summary:

When Shen Qingqiu drew Shen Yuan’s soul sword, it felt like being burned from the inside out. The fire wasn’t cruel, but it was still fire—hot and destructive, searing the softest pieces of him.

When Binghe’s fingers touch the hilt, he is ready for pain.

Transmigrated into a version of Proud Immortal Demon Way where cultivators manifest their own souls into spiritual weapons, Shen Yuan finds himself sort of kind of…accidentally blackmailing Shen Qingqiu into taking him on as a disciple before Luo Binghe joins the sect.

That should give Shen Yuan plenty of opportunities to make sure nothing goes wrong for his favorite protagonist, right? RIGHT!?

A story of twists, turns, hope, despair, and soul swords. Written for the Bingqiu Reverse Minibang 2023, illustrated and conceptualized by the incredible Suzu!

The Cultivating Force Summary: In which a Master and a Padawan run into a Shizun and a... Sith?

and judgement is just like a cup that we share Summary: The blob finished rotating into place in a way that wasn’t quite compatible with geometry as Shen Qingqiu understood it, and cleared a throat it didn’t seem to have.

“Greetings,” it said, somehow clearly addressing him in particular more than the room as a whole despite its total lack of features other than blueness and translucency. “I’m here on behalf of the Hyper-Celestial Peace and Order Enforcement Bureau. Crime scene secure, proceeding to interviews. Beginning with Subject One: You are Shen Qingqiu, formerly Shen Yuan, also known as Peerless Cucumber?”

"Proud Immortal Demon... Protection Squad?" Summary:

[ REWRITTEN 2023 ]

in which shen qingqiu, the nation's scum villain, doesn't perish from a qi deviation and instead, after dying tragically in his pathetic, sickly, 20 year-old body because he ate some definitely rotten yogurt he mistook for cream cheese like the absolute knob that he is, shen yuan wakes up to find himself in the body of a child, in the middle of a forest, and with absolutely no clue what world this shitty system had dropped him into. he decides to just go with the flow, one step at a time.

what could possibly go wrong?

(the answer is: everything)

(Shen Yuan Might Die Often but His) Old Habits Die Hard Summary: When Luo Binghe asks about his spiritual veins in the Holy Mausoleum, Shen Yuan's chest feels so funny that a lifetime of being chronically ill and reassuring his loved ones that, actually, he's fine kicks in. It is fine, really, because every problem in Airplane-bro's world can be solved by something that's penciled regularly into Shen Yuan's schedule at least eight times a week now.

Except the cure for Without a Cure doesn't work, and Shen Yuan's unlucky enough that Airplane-bro's plot device for winning over a tsundere via 'walking a mile in each others' bodies' hits him before he can figure out an alternative to telling Binghe that actually his five years of rebuilding Shen Qingqiu's spiritual veins diligently failed to cure him.

Luo Binghe is, of course, less than impressed to discover through personal experience what Shen Yuan, with his pain scale so skewed by years of chronic pain, never did during all his time poisoned: that, actually, having spiritual energy forming blockages and blood stagnating in your body hurts like hell.

Anyway, that's all that I've got for now. I hope that if you do take my recs you enjoy them, and remember to read all of the tags. Have fun reading!

#fic recs #fanfiction #svsss #bingqiu #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #danmei #shang qinghua #mobei jun #moshang #the scum villain's self saving system #the scum villian’s self saving system fic recs #svsss fic #shen jiu

[zapreportsblog]

❝HUSBAND❞

✭ PAIRING : Edward Cullen x Reader

✭ FANDOM : Twilight

✭ SUMMARY : When Edward proposed to Bella he expected her to accept after all they were mates? Right? Wrong! Bella rejected edwards proposal breaking his undead heart in the process, not being able to withstand the aftermath Edward leaves home; only to return 2 years later but this time he’s married?!

✭ AUTHORS NOTE : I already know there is a story on here called the same story with the same cover (on quotev at least) mines had been edited to a clearer form, (again on quotev) that was my old account, (marveluserlovesmarbel again on quotev was my old and very first account) one of my first actually. If I can remember the login information from it I’d log back in and post my stories from their over here but for now enjoy the remake of said story :)

✭ QUOTEV VERSION

✭ HUSBAND MASTERLIST

✭ CHAPTER TWO : A Surprise Homecoming

Inside the Cullen home, a sense of curiosity and anticipation hung in the air. The family gathered at the entrance, drawn by Alice's sudden vision and the excitement radiating from her. Her golden eyes sparkled as she clapped her hands together.

"I just had a vision," Alice announced, "Edward is coming back, and he should be arriving any minute now."

Everyone exchanged glances, surprised and eager to see Edward again. Moments later, the sound of an approaching car could be heard, and they watched as Edward pulled into the driveway. As he stepped out of the car, they were taken aback by the presence of a woman in the passenger seat. Edward opened her door, and they exited the vehicle, both smiling warmly at the Cullen family.

Edward greeted his siblings with hugs and was bombarded with questions about his trip. Carlisle suggested they continue the conversation inside, and they all moved into the house.

Once inside, Edward introduced the woman beside him. "Everyone, this is (Y/n). We got married."

The room fell into stunned silence. Carlisle was the first to break it, his face a mixture of surprise and happiness. "Edward, this is wonderful news, but since when did you get married?"

Edward explained, "We got married a year ago."

Alice gasped, fake outrage coloring her tone. "And you didn't let me plan your wedding? Unacceptable!"

Laughter rippled through the room as they realized Alice was teasing. Edward smiled, "Honestly, after Bella, I didn't expect to find love again."

Esme stepped forward, her motherly warmth enveloping them. "Well, I'm happy you did, son." She turned to (Y/n) and asked, "Now, how did you two come to be?"

(Y/n) laughed, her eyes sparkling. "I tried to kill him."

Bewildered looks crossed the faces of the Cullen family. Jasper scoffed and nodded. "That explains it."

”I’m sorry what?!”

”What can I say, it’s in my blood to hunt creatures like Edward,” (y/n) says with a laugh.

“Hunt? Are you a hunter?” Esme asked with slight hesitation.

”Yeah. My last name was Winchester but i guess it’s now (Y/n) Winchester Cullen, decided to keep my last name you know.”

Jasper can’t help but scoff, “Figures.”

Everyone was still puzzled, and Jasper elaborated, "The Winchesters are a hot-blooded family of hunters."

Edward added, "We're also mates."

Rosalie, never one to hide her feelings about Bella, couldn't help but ask, "Wait, aren't you and Bella mates?"

Edward explained, "When I met Bella, it was her blood that called out to me. She was my blood singer, which is why I felt such a strong connection to her. I deluded myself into thinking I loved her for her. But when I met (Y/n), I instantly felt the mate bond."

The family began to understand, and the room filled with smiles and warm welcomes for (Y/n). It was a surprising turn of events, and everyone felt a sense of joy and acceptance as they welcomed Edward and his new love back into their immortal lives.

┉

As the Cullen family settled into their cozy living room, the girls - Alice, Esme, Rosalie, and (Y/n) - conspired to have some girl talk out on the balcony. They silently made their way outside, leaving the boys to their own devices.

On the balcony, a sense of camaraderie and curiosity enveloped the girls. Esme leaned against the railing, looking at (Y/n) with a warm smile. "So, (Y/n), how did you find out that Edward was a vampire?"

(Y/n) leaned against the balcony and looked out at the starry night sky. "He did a good job hiding it at first, but after a few weeks, I noticed something unusual. One day, he reached out for something, and his hand caught the sunlight, causing it to sparkle like diamonds. I couldn't ignore that."

Rosalie's eyebrows arched in interest. "And what did you do next?"

(Y/n) chuckled. "I did what any person would do in this situation—I did some research. I found out about the myth of vampires sparkling in the sunlight, and it all started to make sense."

Esme nodded, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. "You were pretty observant."

(Y/n) shrugged. "I guess I've always had a knack for details."

Rosalie, intrigued by the prospect of conversation, leaned in closer. "Have you encountered more of our kind?"

(Y/n) thought for a moment before responding. "I've hunted vampires, but they're of different vampiric natures. Some of them don't sparkle, instead, they burn in the sunlight. Others have special jewelry that allows them to go into the sunlight without a problem."

Alice leaned forward, her golden eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Tell us more about the supernatural creatures you've encountered."

(Y/n) began to share stories of her encounters with various supernatural beings, including werewolves, shape-shifters, and even ancient mythical creatures. The girls listened with rapt attention, enjoying the opportunity to learn about (Y/n)'s adventurous life.

Back in the living room, the boys decided to go on a hunt, giving the girls some privacy. Edward proposed the idea, and Emmett, Carlisle, and Jasper readily agreed. With their departure, the girls had their opportunity to get to know (y/n) better.

In the heart of the dark woods, the Cullen brothers and father continued their hunt. Jasper, after a moment of contemplation, decided to address the questions that had been gnawing at him. He turned to Edward and said, "You look well."

Edward chuckled, his voice a wry whisper. "What's with the small talk, Jasper? You know I can hear your thoughts going a million miles a minute."

Jasper sighed, his concern evident. "Why a hunter, Edward? I know she's your mate, but you could've pulled away."

Edward's eyes, glinting like polished onyx in the moonlight, met Jasper's. "You know I wouldn't have been able to pull away if I felt the pull."

Jasper persisted, his voice tinged with worry. "She's a hunter, Edward. She's dangerous."

Edward countered, "And I'm a vampire. I can be dangerous too."

Emmett, who had been silently listening, finally chimed in. "I mean, they both can kill each other at the end of the day. Can't we move on from this topic?"

Jasper was unrelenting. "No, he's putting us all in danger. Aside from her being the very thing that kills us, she's also a human."

Edward's brow furrowed, and he asked, "What's your problem, Jasper?"

Jasper's voice grew more serious. "Listen, you've never faced a Winchester before. I have. Trust me, you don't want to cross their path."

Before the argument could escalate any further, Carlisle intervened. "Gentlemen, I suggest we drop this argument for now. I see something." He pointed toward a deer approaching through the trees, reminding them of the primary purpose of their venture. The brothers refocused their attention on the hunt, leaving their concerns and debates for another time.

The Cullen brothers and father, fresh from their successful hunt, made their way back to the house. Emmett carried the lifeless deer, a triumph in his strong arms. As they approached the house, their senses picked up the unmistakable scent of a familiar visitor. Bella Swan had arrived, her red beat-up pickup truck parked near the house.

Bella hesitated by the truck, her posture awkward and uncertain. She called out to Edward, "Hey, Edward. It's been a while."

Edward's face remained a mask of emotionless grace, but he kindly greeted her with a simple, "Hello, Bella."

Bella continued, "I didn't believe Charlie when he said he saw you passing through Forks. He said he saw you with someone. I take it you've brought a friend?"

Before Edward could answer, (Y/n) appeared, coming outside with a warm smile to greet him and the others. She rushed into Edward's arms, showering him with affectionate kisses on the face.

"My love," (Y/n) said, her voice filled with both relief and happiness. "You've been gone for so long, I got worried."

Edward's stoic facade softened as he held (Y/n) close, returning her affection with a warm embrace. Bella watched their reunion with a mix of emotions, perhaps sensing that the connection between Edward and (Y/n) was deeper and more profound than she had ever experienced with him.

#x reader #x reader one shot #x reader oneshot #x reader series #twilight imagine #twilight imagines #twilight x reader #twilight masterlist #twilight x y/n #edward cullen x you #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen imagines #edward cullen imagine #twilight edward #edward cullen #twilight esme #twilight emmett #twilight alice #twilight jasper #twilight rosalie #edward cullen x y/n #husband series #husband masterlist #husband #twilight bella

[rubberonmyduck]

"Can you be my Date?"

Lucifer Morningstar x Human! Reader (Female)

ao3 Link

To keep up is image and discourage the hellish media from knowing about Lucifer's divorce, Lucifer finds a random human, you, to pose as his date at one of his aristocratic parties. 5,588 Words

   Upon entry into Hell, the usual sinner would learn a few things very quickly.

     They were absolutely stuck in this wretched place, that much was certain, but this wretched place seemed a lot less inhumane than the books say it was. Sure, it was still Hell , but it was more of a corporate America type of Hell than a damned for all eternity type. The place had a monarch installed, but the ruler seemed to do very little, barely showing his face and making laws very less. It was as if he weren’t even there.

     But he was, oh Lucifer was there. The denizens over the years remembered less and less about the king, but they knew two things for certain. He had a wife, and he had a daughter. 

     His daughter, Charlie, she would self-proclaim to any and every news outlet who interviewed her, was a relaxed, care-free, and unnecessarily happy demon. She ran a hotel that was less than appealing to most folk and the princess was pretty much seen as an absolute joke.

     Lucifer’s wife however, a look that's now been centuries forgotten under lies and trickery, was never in the spotlight anymore. Had the two not had a daughter, most new sinners would likely assume Lucifer was lying about his so-called significant other.

     And frankly? He kind of was.

     Lucifer sat alone on one of the loveseats, the fire in the fireplace slowly burning out after having been on for so long. Occasionally would he flick his wrist and reset the flame to full blaze, but he was too engulfed in his own mind to do it once more. 

     Every century the Sins would hold a get-together to commemorate themselves– Lucifer, a prideful man had thought of this first and proposed to the others– and keep spirits high and tensions away from the Rings. Typically each Sin would bring along a guest to the rendezvous, adding to the sea of important people invited every year. More often than not it would be their significant other– Asmodeus would bring Fizzarolli, Beelzebub would bring Vortex, Mammon would bring… Well, admittedly his guest would change every time to the point the Sin of Pride was never sure who hell that greedy bastard was dating. And Lucifer would bring Lilith.

     Lucifer glanced down at the wedding ring he still had looped around his finger. He pulled the piece of metal off, inspecting it with a sigh. 

     Beelzebub and Asmodeus knew about his divorce first, both of which explained it to the other sins so Lucifer didn’t need to repeat the story another four times, but it was still a complicated moment now. Lilith wasn’t public about the divorce, and Lucifer never mentioned it to anyone besides his daughter after the fact, so it wasn’t common knowledge to anyone else that he was single. At this point he was mostly over it– but the thought of having the media drag him and reopen the wounds again was daunting. 

     That's when Beelzebub came up with an idea. People knew Lucifer’s wife was a human, so she had suggested maybe Lucifer find a human willing to pose as his wife for the night. That way, the media and fellow royalty attending the event would be none the wiser. In another century, they were sure Lucifer would be healed enough to spill the beans. 

     The idea seemed simple enough. There had to be at least one human willing enough to assist him, and maybe if he offered some sort of wealth or immortality he could sway them to his side. Surely any human he took down to Hell would be stuck with that future, but the percentage of humans that ended up down here was enough to confirm Lucifer didn’t have to worry about changing their fate. The only issue was how . How was Lucifer going to find someone? Should he hold an event? Stalk some people on the streets? Where would he even go, Earth was unnecessarily huge and overpopulated. He thought on it for hours that night and into the next morning, but eventually, he settled on the simplest solution. Snapping his fingers, Lucifer opened up a portal and walked through it.

     It was a boring morning as you were lounging on your couch, a shitty television show playing in the background as you scrolled on your phone. It was a lazy day– you had the bowl of popcorn and two half empty bottles of soda sitting on the coffee table to prove it. Your boss gave you a few days off of work, and there wasn’t much to do when your friends were all stuck working their one dead-end nine to fives. You tossed your phone down onto the cushion beside you, letting out a frustrated groan followed by a yawn.

     It was only half fast four pm, there was no way you’d let yourself sleep. Just because you had nowhere to be tomorrow, didn’t mean you wanted to be awake all night because of a terrible decision from the day before. But a few moments of shut-eye wouldn't hurt, right? You let your eyes close, leaning your head back. 

     “Are you awake?”

     You let out a little hum of confirmation, your brain not fully catching up. You sunk a little deeper into the couch, trying to convey to your roommate you didn’t want to do anything. As you did though, something hit you. 

     Your roommate was out of the country. 

     And your roommate definitely did not sound like a man.

     Your eyes shot open, staring in the direction ahead to see a man standing in front of you. 

     “What the FUCK ,” You sat up quickly before trying to crawl over the back of your couch to get away from the person, flopping down on the ground hard as your did. That didn’t deter you though, as you quickly scooted back all the way to your kitchen table, freely reaching on it until your hands came in contact with the plastic butter knife you left on it earlier. You pointed it at the stranger. 

     Meanwhile, the stranger just looked at you blankly. As the two of you stared at each other, you were able to take in more of the appearance of him. He was awfully pale on his face, save for a pink, round dot on both of his cheeks. His hair was light blond, and he was wearing some pink and white striped shirt. If you looked closer at his arms, you could tell the blackness was more skin like than a long glove. His pants were as white as his skin, and his boots were awfully tall. He kind of looked like a cosplayer, you determined. 

     “Who– Who the fuck are you!” You stuttered, your hand with the butter knife shaking. The man just gave you a grin, slowly walking over to you with his hands held in front of himself as a show he means no harm. 

     Once he was only a few feet in front of you, he gave you a slight bow. 

     “Lucifer Morningstar, darling!”

     You blinked at him.

     “Uh. Are you trying to rob me?” You cocked your head to the side. You haven’t been robbed before, but you were pretty sure this isn’t how robberies work. “No, you’re doing it wrong if you are. Are you a Jehovah witness? I told you guys to stop breaking in !” 

     “Er,” The man reached forward and pushed on your butter knife, lowering your weapon. It wasn’t something he was particularly afraid of, but he didn’t want to find out if he should be. “Quite the opposite actually– wait, they’ve broken into your house before?”

     You let the butter knife fall to the ground. “They used to do it like once a month.” You pointed to a window behind the man. “That’s why that window is boarded up.” 

     The man did an ‘O’ shape with his mouth, looking over to the window in question. This would be a perfect opportunity to try and stab the man, but you were too curious and if he was being nice now , you mise well savor it. You should really call the cops though. 

     “Who are you?”

     “I already told you my name–”

     “I have my doubts that’s your name.”

     The man looked almost offended, crossing his arm over his chest and huffing. 

     “It is!”

     “You sound like a cultist.” You commented. You pushed yourself off the ground, standing with the supposed ‘Lucifer’. You noticed quickly you had a few inches on him, but otherwise he seemed like a semi-normal man.

     “I’m more-so the Devil.” He replied. Lucifer started tapping his foot on the ground, a bit of impatience creeping up on him.

     “Ah, yes, the Devil himself broke into my house. How believable .”

     “You’re being difficult.” 

     You raised an eyebrow at the man, leaning back against the table behind you. 

     “You don’t look like the Devil, Lucifer.”

     As you said that, the tv flashed an image of Good Omen’s version of Satan on the screen. You gestured for Lucifer to look at it. There was a sour look on his face as he did.

     “You humans' depictions of me get weirder and weirder,” He muttered, shaking his head at the sight. He turned back to you with a look of determination. “How about I prove it to you?”

     With a flick of his wrist, the two of you seemed to be teleported to a different room, the walls covered in large windows and decorated in tacky wallpaper everywhere else. You were sitting at a table, a teacup in front of you. Slightly above it was a levitating teapot, pouring its contents into the cup before moving to pour into another cup, this one sat in front of Lucifer. He had a more businesslike suit on. You looked down at yourself, seeing a red dress on you instead of your normal lounge-wear. There were two more chairs at the table, both with a unique rubber duck sitting on each.

     “How– how did you do that? Am I dreaming?”

     Lucifer made a jazz hands motion. “Magic! You are awake.”

     What looked to be a clone of Lucifer walked over and grabbed the teapot from the table, but before he walked away, he gave you a hard pinch on your shoulder.

     “ Ow !”

     The clone snickered, then disappeared.

     Lucifer then snapped his fingers, the entire scenery disappearing around you. Your clothes were reverted back to normal, as was his, but now the two of you were sitting on your couch. Lucifer handed a cold, full can of soda over to you.

     “You, you’re–”

     “The Devil himself, yes!” Lucifer took a sip out of the teacup he seemed to still have, sticking his tongue out a bit and the hotness of it that he wasn’t expecting. You noticed it was forked, adding onto the absurdity.

     You set the offered soda on the coffee table before scooting a bit to the side away from Lucifer. As you did this, you gripped at your forearms, trying to close yourself off from the man. He paid no mind to your movements, and kept talking.

     “I need a favor,” Lucifer stated, figuring that beating around the shrubs would put him more into a time constraint than he already was. Lucifer set his tea down on the table next to your own drink. He turned his body towards you.

     “A favor?” You squinted at him. You were still convinced this was some awful dream. That you would wake up on your couch in a few moments, no Devil sitting next to you and the streetlights shining in reminding you that you slept for too long. But when none of that happened, you just decided to hear the Devil out.

     “I have a slight issue, and I was hoping you’d be able to help me.”

     “If you’re asking to have sex with me, I’m going to have to decline–”

     “No,” Lucifer cut you off, looking mildly disturbed. “No no no, no. Not that. Oh Satan no .” 

     “Did you just–” 

     “Different guy! I don’t want to fuck you.” Lucifer looked you up and down, before shaking his head. “I need to date you!”

     “Ehm– Usually I prefer being taken to dinner out first?”

     Lucifer stood up. He brushed down his shirt, smoothing the wrinkles. He looked down at you and rolled his eyes.

     “I need someone to pose as my date tomorrow night. Just for a night.”

     “Your date? For what?”

     “The Sins and I– Uh, we have a party every once in a while. To celebrate another century of Hell not having collapsed on itself.” 

     You gave Lucifer a nod, before glancing down at his hands. There was a golden band on his ring finger. 

     “Shouldn’t you take your wife to this event?”

     Lucifer looked down at the ring on his hand. A small blush appeared on his face as he moved the hand behind his back. 

     “We’re divorced.”

     You raised an eyebrow. Definitely a can of worms you didn’t want to deal with. You stood up alongside Lucifer, crossing your arms and tilting your head at him. 

     “Look, I don’t really know a whole lot about the religious lore you come from, but aren’t there other people who live in Hell? Couldn’t you ask them?” 

     “My ex-wife,” Lucifer started, an annoyed tone creeping back up his throat, “Was a human. There’s no humans in Hell.” 

     You gave him a little hum. “Wouldn’t your sin-ly friends notice you have another woman with you?” 

     “They already know about the divorce, it's the media that assumes I’m still married, and I’d prefer it to stay that way.” 

     “I’ve never met your wife, but I’m pretty sure I don’t look like her, Lucifer.”

     “Sure you do!” Lucifer raised one of his hands to the top of your head, comparing the high difference between the two of you. He stuck his tongue out as he thought. Lucifer then held a piece of your hair in his hands. “You’re about the same height. If anyone asks, I’ll just say you dyed your hair.” 

     “You don’t even know who I am. Why are you asking me? Why not ask some woman from the cults that follow you?”

     “Those people are nuts! Besides, you seem nice enough. Haven’t stabbed me at all, that's pretty much all I can ask from a wife.”

     “How did you even find me?” 

     “Well,” Lucifer clasped his hands together in an awkward manor, his cheeks reddening. “I kind of opened the portal right inside your little house here,”

     “Apartment.”

     “Apartment. You should really upgrade this. But uh, by the looks of your calendar over there,” Lucifer pointed towards the kitchen, his sights on the calendar you had hanging on your fridge. “You happen to be free tomorrow night.”

     “How– How long have you been in here?”

     Lucifer counted a few fingers on his hand. “Maybe three hours?”

     You gaped at him. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” Sighing, you let yourself fall back down onto the couch. You rubbed your face with one of your hands.

     “You know what, Lucifer? I’m feeling generous.” You stated, taking the hand off your face to look back up at Lucifer. He grinned at your words. “But! I know about you demons and your little deal things. What am I getting out of this?” 

     Lucifer chuckled. “Of course I wouldn’t ask you this without something in return.” Lucifer held his hand out towards you. Angelic energy seemed to dissipate off of it at the motion. “A favor from me at any time of your choosing. You get to fully keep your soul, too! The favor can be anything.” 

     Despite the skeptical look on your face, you decided hey, why not? What was the worst that could happen, anyways? You die? You weren’t fond of death, but now knowing the afterworld did actually exist, the fear you originally had dissipated with every second that went by. You grasped Lucifer’s hand with your own. The grin re-appeared across his face, looking almost creepier this time as the room around you seemed to glitch and turn red and gold. A rush of air passed you two, and you were able to make out the symbol of a star below where you stood. 

     Lucifer let go of your hand, the room around you turning back to normal. 

     “It’s a deal! I’ll pick you up at 8,” Lucifer turned to the side, flicking his wrist and opening a golden-ringed portal beside him. As he stepped though, he let you know one last thing. “There’s a purple dress in your closet for you!”

     And the dress was there. This whole thing seemed ridiculous. After Lucifer left the day before, you passed out on your couch for the night. Thinking it was a dream, you almost weren’t going to bother reminding yourself to get ready, but you felt a weird tugging sensation, convincing yourself to take a peep in your closet for that supposed purple dress. It was on a hanger, a yellow sticky note on it saying ‘don't forget!’ with a little doodle of a rubber duck. It took you a couple minutes of fumbling to get the outfit on properly, but once you did you were quick to put on some simple makeup and black heels, finally getting the chance to take a good look at yourself in your roommate’s full length mirror a few minutes before Lucifer was supposed to pick you up. 

     Almost like he sensed you were ready, a golden portal much like yesterday appeared besides you. You watched as Lucifer stepped out of it. Instead of the shirt he wore yesterday, the man had on a white dress shirt with matching white pants. He was wearing the same black boots from yesterday, his hair pushed back in the same way but with a top-hat resting on it. You noticed a snake was wrapped around it, as well as an apple pinned to the side next to his pseudo crown. The snake blinked at you.

     Lucifer’s eyes widened as he looked at you, and he almost dropped the cane that he was holding. A slight blush spread across his face. “You look nice,” he stuttered out.

     You gave him a little smile. “You do too.”

     Nice wasn’t even the beginning of it. He looked hot, the sight in front of you bringing an all new meaning to the phrase ‘devilishly handsome’. You had to bite your bottom lip to make sure your jaw wasn’t hanging open.

     Lucifer seemed to snap out of his own daze. He held a hand out towards you, a grin reappearing on his face.

     “Shall we?”

     You took his hand. You let Lucifer walk you through the portal– the sensation was weird, like your skin was being pricked in every spot, your stomach dropping much like how it would on a rollercoaster. The feeling disappeared as soon as it came, and you were presented with the sight of a tall, long hallway. Tiny, impish creatures were rushing back and forth, a few carrying trays of drinks and hors d'oeuvres. Others were holding what looked to be last minute party decorations. Despite their frantic running, none bumped into the two of you as you walked down the hallway. 

     Lucifer leaned his head towards yours. “You don’t have to speak at all if you don't want to,” he whispered. “But fair warning, no one else down here looks as human as I do.” 

     You nodded, turning your head slightly to look over at him.

     “How long will this last?” You questioned. You didn’t have anywhere to be, but you were curious to know if this was an all night party or not.”

     “Not as long as you think,” he replied. “If you need to abandon ship at any time, let me know.”

     The two of you came to a stop. You turned back in front of you, and you were presented with the sight of a large ballroom. It looked similar to the one from the movie the Beauty and the Beast, but this room was filled with various different creatures, each of wildly different heights and features. Some of them looked like the imps you saw in the hallway, but others had the features of birds, sharks, and any other animal you could think of, there was at least one of them. They all looked classy, making you feel out of place. You started to shrink in on yourself, before feeling one of Lucifer’s hands firmly on your back, helping you keep your composure. You saw him smile up at you. 

     “Lucifer!” A deep voice cut you out of your moment, and you turned to see an exceptionally large man with a big puff of hair. You were able to make out two different faces in the hair, one resembling a ram and the other a bull. He had a blue suit on, and next to him was a creature like the imps, but he looked much more robotic than the rest. 

     “I was wondering when you would show up!” The man placed a hang on Lucifer’s shoulder, giving him a friendly shake before he looked over to you. 

     “ Lilith .” He winked. His voice was loud enough to attract the attention of others, who were muttering to each other, a few pointing at you. Lucifer explained that the other Sins knew he was divorced, but the rest of Hell’s population didn’t. Lilith must've been the name of his ex-wife. 

     Lucifer’s hand slid down to your waist, pulling you in closer to his body. 

     “Asmodeus, it’s very good to see you. Have you seen Beelzebub?”

     Asmodeus nodded, then tilted his head to an area on the other side of the room. “Last I saw her she was at the snack table.”

     Asmodeus then leaned in closer to the two of you, his voice lowering so only you two could hear him.

     “She looks very similar to Lilith.” Asmodeus commented, looking over at you a bit more intensely. You could almost feel the demonic aura he gave off.

     “Do you think anyone will notice?” Lucifer’s voice was laced with fear. Asmodeus chuckled.

     “When I saw you two walk in, I thought you somehow convinced Lilith to attend.” Asmodeus gave him a reassuring smile. Lucifer returned it. Asmodeus gave Lucifer a pat on the back, before standing up straighter like he was before. The Sin put his hand on the shoulder of the people with him.

     “It was wonderful to see you two again,” his voice was as loud as it was before. He nudged the person with him, signaling for the two of them to take their leave. “Hopefully we can catch up more later!”

     With that, they disappeared into the crowd, leaving you and Lucifer alone together once again. Lucifer let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

     “Thank Lucifer that worked,” He huffed, planning a hand on his chest dramatically. You patted him on the back, before pushing him to walk with you. 

     “Save the theatrics for later, maybe?” You suggested. “He said Beelzebub was at the snack table.”

     “Yes! Thank you,” Lucifer pulled you with him, making your way across the floor. You were about halfway there before the lights dimmed. Music started to play, echoing across the walls to the point where you were unsure of where it was coming from. A spotlight lit up on the middle of the floor, right over where you and Lucifer were standing. The other demons around you backed up out of the light, leaving the two of you alone.

     Lucifer gave you a sheepish grin, leaning in by your ear.

     “I thought there would be a little more time.” He whispered, before leaning back and holding his hand out towards you. 

     “Care for a quick dance, my love?” 

     The light on his pale skin did the opposite of washing him out– It seemed like it enhanced his features. The suit was a creamier white than it looked earlier in your bedroom. The golden wedding band was still on his hand, reflecting the light off of it to who knows where. The snake was asleep now, too. You were able to see the stray pieces of hair sticking out in random directions, and you were able to see the tiny scars that adorned his face from years of living. It only made him look more handsome, you quickly decided. 

     You took his hand, allowing him to swing it across his shoulder, his other hand nudging your other arm to join in. His hands rested on your hips, pulling you closer to his body. The two of you started to sway along with the music. Lucifer led you into a classic waltz, going slowly to gage how comfortable you were with it, and once you got a handle on the movements, you dancing picked up speed. The room around you was devoid of chatter, and all eyes were on the pair in the middle. You were sure you saw Asmodeus smiling out of the corner of your eye, but you were too focused on Lucifer in front of you. His expression was soft, full of admiration and love. You felt Lucifer twirl the two of you together, before grabbing onto one of your hands and pushing you into an assisted spin. As you stumbled to the side, Lucifer gracefully brought you down into a dip, holding you gently by your waist as he looked down at you with a smile. You stared back up at him, the pounding of your heart drowning out the music around you. Lucifer was about to speak, but was cut off by you stumbling out of his grip, backing up with a look of panic on your face.

     “I– I need to use the restroom,” you stuttered out, before rushing out of the spotlight and pushing through the crowd to the direction you assumed was the bathroom.

     Slipping through the doors, you let out a tiny cry as you slid down the wall next to you. You hugged our knees to yourself, your breath ragged. You could feel yourself start to cry. I barely know the guy , you thought as you tried to stop yourself from making noise.

      “I can’t be upset, this is just for show.” You berated yourself. “You don’t like him. He’s just a hot, kind guy who needed help! It doesn’t– it doesn’t matter how lovingly he looked at you. He’s probably pissed at you for running away,” Your voice kept getting cut off by your own hiccups.

     “Stupid!” You barely heard the door to the bathroom creaking open. 

     “Is someone in– Oh my Satan , girl, are you okay?”

     You looked up, your face stained with tears and mascara. The girl closed the door behind her, locking it before turning to face you fully again. Her skin was yellow and blackish, reminding you of a bee. But unlike a bee, she had dog-like and fox-like features adorning her body and very colorful hair with a matching tail. She also had four arms, compared to the two a lot of demons in the place had. The girl kneeled down on the ground m, reaching a hand out and gently resting it on your shoulder. 

     “I’m okay,” you sniffled. You let go of your knees, letting your legs droop down to the floor. The girl properly sat down next to you. She reached into her dress pocket and pulled out a little packet of tissues.

     “Your face says otherwise,” despite her joking, her voice was soft and full of concern.

     “I’m Beelzebub. My friends call me Bee, you can call me Bee,” She grinned. You returned a weak smile to her. This was the Beelzebub Lucifer needed to talk to, you determined. You hoped she wouldn’t try harming you for the stunt you just pulled, but she seemed way too nice to hurt even a fly.

     “I uh– I saw you run from Lucifer,” She gave you a little punch on the shoulder. “Need me to rough him up for you?” 

     You snorted. She definitely didn’t want to kill you.

     “I panicked,” You offered. You looked at the wall across from you. It had some trashy, 90s era wallpaper on it.

     “Tell me bitch,” Beelzebub poked at your head. “What's going on in there?”

     “He’s kind of cute?” You confessed, playing with your fingers. You felt Beelzebub shake beside you, trying to hold back a laugh.

     “So you dipped? Girl, I get it,” Beelzebub let out a sigh. “Reminds me of the first time I went out with Tex.”

     You raised an eyebrow. “You– You ran away?” 

     “To a whole different ring, baby! But you know what I did?” You tilted your head at her, questioning.

     “I went back, decided hey , Why the fuck not? It can only go somewhere if you let it,” Beelzebub winked at you. She pulled you into a hug with all of her arms. It was comforting, and helped you fully ground yourself. You wiped a few stray tears off your face.

     Beelzebub helped you up off the ground. She pulled out a little makeup kit from her purse, and after a little fumbling around she was able to help you replace the mascara that was smeared all across your face. Once she determined you looked pretty enough to return to the party, she guided you out of the bathroom. With one shove towards the direction you assumed Lucifer was in, Beelzebub winked at you again.

     “Go get ‘em, tiger,”

     You made your way into the crowd, pushing past clusters of people as you looked around for Lucifer. You were tempted to shout for his name, but the moment you opened your mouth you were yanked to the side, a squeak coming out instead. You felt yourself being pulled into another room, though before you could let out a scream, a hand was placed over your mouth.

     “It’s just me,” You blinked, letting your eyes adjust to the new lighting. Lucifer was standing in front of you. He released his hand from your mouth, rubbing the back of his neck with his other.

     “I didn’t–”

     “I’m sorry!” You blurted out, cutting him off. “I didn’t mean to run away,” your voice got quieter as you spoke. Lucifer looked onto you with worry.

     “It’s okay! I’m not mad– Did I make you uncomfortable?” He backed up a little bit, letting you have a little personal space.

     “No, you didn’t. I just,” You looked everywhere but Lucifer’s eyes, unsure of what to say. Should you tell the truth? Should you like and say you just really needed to use the restroom? But when your eyes fell back onto Lucifer’s gaze, you were compelled to let him know the real reason.

     “I panicked,” You confessed, mirroring what you told Beelzebub. 

     “Why?” His voice was soft. He leaned back into your personal space, his hands slightly in the air as if he wanted to check and see if you were fully alright.

     “Did you not want to dance with me? You could’ve said so, dear,”

     There he was with the endearments again. “No, I loved it,”

     Lucifer furrowed his eyebrows. “Did someone scare you? I can go take care of them if you point them out–”

     You tuned out Lucifer’s voice, too focused on his face and how it moved as he spoke. It was enticing, really, seeing his lips open and close with every word he spoke. You couldn’t stop yourself as you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. 

     It only happens for a few seconds, before you yanked yourself away in fear of what you just did. You started stuttering out apologies, pushing yourself against the wall behind you and gripping your forearms. You shut your eyes tightly. This is it, you thought, this is where he kills me . 

     You felt a hand on your face. It was soft, unharming as it pushed you. You opened your eyes to see Lucifer, eyes lidded and face softened. His hand properly cupped your cheek, pulling you back to his face as he kissed you in return. You gasped, returning the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer. You felt him snake an arm across your waist, holding you in place in case you tried to back away from him again.

     This kiss was over too soon, Lucifer leaning back and resting his forehead against your own. He had a blush across his face. His breath was as heavy as yours was, and you could hear two different heartbeats racing in the room.

     “Let’s get you home,” Lucifer spoke softly, removing his hand from your cheek. He was about to snap his fingers before you stopped him.

     “Wait, Lucifer?” Lucifer hmm, leaning in and placing a kiss upon your cheek. 

     “Can I cash in that favor you owe me?”

     Lucifer raised an eyebrow at you.

     “Whatever did you want, my love?”

     “I want to stay with you.” You bit your bottom lip, your blush turning darker as you spoke. “I think I like you.”

     “That’s hardly a favor.” Lucifer kissed you on the lips again. “I wasn’t going to stand by and let you leave me so soon.”

     Lucifer pulled your body flush against him, and next thing you know the two of you were falling backwards into a portal, heading to a place that didn’t matter to you as long as Lucifer was with you.

#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader

[nanaosaki3940]

My Fav Korean Manhwa Recommendation List

For the last few days, I've been reading Korean manhwa/webtoon series non-stop and man, they're just so great!!! 😍😍😍

These are some of my fav manhwa I've read so far... All the stories are of modern setting btw... (I may do a separate recommendation list for historical/magical/isekai genre manhwa later on...)

Something About Us - (Childhood best friends turned lovers) Status: Completed.

Positively Yours - (Strangers met for one night stand to lovers) Status: Completed.

Seasons Of Blossom - (High school friends to lovers) Status: Completed.

Please Take Care Of Me In This Life As Well - (Childhood friends to lovers) Status: On-going.

Fly Me To The Moon - (Strangers met through unusual circumstances to lovers) Status: On-going.

The Reason I Wanted To Die - (High school sweethearts to Exes to again lovers) Status: On-going.

Revelation Of Youth - (High school friends to lovers) Status: On-going.

The Odd One Next Door - (Frenemy neighbors to lovers) Status: On-going.

Free In Dreams - (Strangers met through lucid dreams to lovers) Status: On-going.

Operation Name Pure Love - (High school friends to lovers) Status: On-going.

Just Twilight - (High school classmates to lovers) Status: On-going.

King The Land - (Childhood friends to lovers) Status: On-going.

Confession Attack - (Childhood best friends to lovers) Status: On-going.

Our Secret Alliance - (Childhood best friends to lovers) Status: Completed.

Ooh La La!! - (Complete strangers to sudden lovers) Status: Completed.

Match Made In Heaven By Chance - (Childhood friends to sudden married couple) Status: On-going.

Love Class - (Former high school Teacher X Former high school Student love story) Status: On-going.

The Man's Games - (Childhood frenemies to lovers) Status: Completed.

My Introverted Boy - (Introverted boy X introverted girl love story) Status: On-going.

The Dilettante - (Enemies to lovers) Status: On-going.

Olgami - (Enemies to toxic lovers) Status: On-going.

The Law Of Being Friends With A Male - (Classmates to friends to lovers) Status: On-going.

My Three Annoying Brothers - (Separate love stories of 4 beautiful yet chaotic siblings) Status: On-going.

Divorce Is Easy, But Love Is Hard - (College Senpai-kouhai to office colleagues in love) Status: On-going.

Marry My Husband - (Office senpai-kouhai to lovers) Status: Completed.

The Boss's Proposal - (Office senpai-kouhai to lovers) Status: On-going.

When You're Targeted By The Bully - (Enemies to friends to lovers) Status: Completed.

The ones I haven't read yet, but intend to read them later in the future...

Love Of Mine.

A Guide To Proper Dating.

Act Like You Love Me!

The Couple Breaker.

There Must Be Happy Endings/Surely a Happy Ending.

Love For Hire.

Daytime Star.

First Love, Lasting Hate.

Extroversion Of An Immortal.

True Beauty.

Wedding Delusion.

Even If It's Not.

Only Hope.

Meet In The Middle.

Situationship.

My Sweet Dark Hero.

Dating My Best Friend's Sister.

Undercover! Chaebol High School.

Dear First Love.

Melt Me With Your Voice.

Yeon Woo’s Innocence.

My Messy Marriage.

As If Love Doesn’t Exist.

Let’s Meet After Work.

Please Teach Me, Senior.

#manhwa #anime #manga #romance manhwa #manhwa recommendation #something about us #please take care of me in this life as well #positively yours #our secret alliance #seasons of blossom #revelation of youth #olgami #the reason i wanted to die #my reason to die #operation name pure love #fly me to the moon #when you're targeted by the bully #the boss's proposal #marry my husband #the law of being friends with a male #the dilettante #match made in heaven by chance #love class #the man's games #confession attack #just twilight #free in dreams #dreaming freedom #king the land #see you in my 19th life

[theoddcatlady]

The Worst Wedding I've Ever Photographed

I’ve been a wedding photographer for nearly ten years and I thought I’d seen it all. Trashy, beautiful, tragic, hilarious, or just bizarre. I have stories. I have the typical groom getting caught getting it on with the maid of honor, family getting into brawls, brides OD-ing in the bathroom, gay couples having no one attend their wedding (or worse, the one uninivited homophobic relative crashing to just be a dick) stories. But we aren’t here for the typical stories. If we were, we’d be here all day. We’re here for the wedding from last October.

Fall weddings are probably my favorite, if I ever get married I’ll probably get hitched in the fall. It was the parents of the bride who came to me, asking for my services for a wedding in two weeks. Their original photographer apparently up and quit on them and they were desperate to have their darling daughter’s wedding immortalized in picture format.

Luckily for them, I had a clear schedule. I did charge them quite a bit extra for the suddenness of it all, but judging by the father’s Rolex it wasn’t that big a deal. One thing I’m good at guessing is a family’s wealth status. And once again I was on point- the Seawrights were rolling in dough.

Not that I really liked them though. I’m not required to like all my clients, although it does make things a bit more relaxing. Harold Seawright absolutely leered at my chest whenever he thought I wasn’t looking and Carol was clearly the trophy wife that was over the hill. I’ve never seen a human being that genuinely looked more like plastic than her. Nothing wrong with plastic surgery or Botox, but there’s gotta be a cut off at some point.

I think I should’ve been more off put by the parents coming to me rather than the bride, but I just figured said bride was busy with other wedding planning shit and didn’t think too hard on it.

Day came and uh… oh boy I realized I was getting into something I didn’t want to be a part of right away.

First time I saw the bride, Tanya, I had a brief moment of ‘I don’t know how old this girl is’. She could’ve been sixteen, she could’ve been just eighteen. Definitely not over twenty though. I’ve seen young marriages when it’s a shotgun affair, but then I met the groom. Marcel Wingate. Who was definitely no younger than thirty. And Marcel was just… something felt off. The man was a giant for one, he towered over me let alone Tanya. With his long, pale face and sunken eyes he could’ve been fuckin’ Lurch from the Addams Family.

When he shook my hand and introduced himself, I barely repressed a shiver. But years of practice helped me to smile and act like there wasn’t something slimy about all of this.

Tanya never said a word when she was made over for her big day. Only Carol did, chirping and twittering about ‘how about you make her hair a little bigger’ or ‘make her eyes pop, she has such pretty eyelashes’. Luckily Carol had to go have a smoke every fifteen minutes so the make up and hair people could have a moment to actually work. By the time it was all over, Tanya looked perfect. Her dress was basically a white ballgown, a tiara was placed in her strawberry blonde hair, cheeks blushing a perfect pink. But unlike most brides, she still hadn’t said a word and those weren’t sure as hell tears of joy she was holding back.

I’m sure you’ve heard about the ‘first look’ photo fad. I find it great to get that perfect expression a groom makes when he sees the bride in her dress for the first time. It’s usually quite cute. This was the first time I’ve shot a first look photo where I truly believe it was the first time the bride and groom have actually looked at each other.

Marcel did seem to have his breath taken away by his lovely bride, but her expression was less than thrilled as he took her hand and give it a tight squeeze. My stomached turned when he leaned in for a kiss on the cheek and she quite obviously flinched.

It’s time I put a pin on the myth that arranged marriages only happen in foreign countries, and only people from certain cultures take part in it. They happen all the time in the US, and more often than not it’s an old man who wants a ‘virgin’ bride, and by virgin I mean ‘still in fucking highschool’. This wouldn’t even be the first one I was hired to photograph.

I managed to catch Tanya alone in the room she got ready in, sitting next to the open window and twirling an unlit cigarette between her fingers. “Need a light?” I offered as I came in.

“No thanks. I don’t smoke, but they say it makes you feel better, right?” She said, looking up at me with those doll like blue eyes.

“It also gives you lung and throat cancer.” I took the cigarette from her and lit it up for myself. “But I’m a bad example, so do as I say, not as I do.”

Now that got a smile out of her, even if it only lasted a second. “How often do you smoke?” She asked.

“Depends on the day. Usually I have two or three. Bad day I can have a few more.” I lowered the cigarette and looked down at her. “How old are you, Tanya?”

“Nineteen. Twenty in a few weeks. I have a bit of a baby face.” She poked one of her cheeks. “Why do you care?”

I glanced at the door to make sure Carol wasn’t going to barge in. “Tanya, are you not okay with this? The wedding?” I asked quietly.

Tanya’s eyes widened. “Damn, you’re good,” She also glanced at the door, “… Harold, my stepdad, arranged all of this. If he had it his way it would’ve happened when I was fifteen, but Marcel kept delaying. Business, apparently. He tried to delay another year but my dad implied he had other offers.” She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “If I said no, Harold would kick me out and cut me off, frozen my bank account. I’d have nothing and no one, and… I don’t know what I’d do if that happened.”

I reached into my purse and pulled out one of my business cards. “Flip the card over, it has a number for a woman’s shelter- they specialize in helping women escape from dangerous home situations. Hides them, helps them get started in a new city if need be. Below that is my personal home number, if you just need to talk, okay?”

Tanya took the card and clung onto it tightly before tucking it into her bra. “You might be the nicest person I’ve ever met,” She murmured.

I gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I try,” I said before extinguishing the cigarette on the windowsill. “If you need to escape any time tonight, just ask me to help you go to the bathroom. We can pull a whole runaway bride,” I joked.

That got another laugh out of her, just in time for her mom to pop into the room. “Well, what’s taking so long? Hurry up, the wedding’s going to be starting in fifteen minutes, and I don’t want you to cry and make your face all blotchy and ugly!” She whined.

Tanya’s brief joy faded and she gave me one more sad look before following her mother out.

The ceremony would’ve been so much more beautiful if I didn’t know the dirty little secret behind it all. Tanya didn’t smile once. I don’t think even one of those bridesmaids was an actual friend of hers, or at least not a sincere one. When the priest said ‘you may kiss the bride’, Tanya let one tear slip down her cheek when Marcel leaned down to kiss her.

I was seriously considering calling the cops, but what could they do? Tanya would likely cave and say nothing was wrong, and since she wasn’t a minor they couldn’t label Marcel a pedo and her stepfather a child seller. It still didn’t make the situation any less shitty. All I could do was snap pictures of the worst day of Tanya’s life.

At the reception I was constantly being nagged by Carol about what pictures to take to the point where I wanted to rip her hair out, but I did notice something different about the first dance between the couple.

Tanya at first was stiff as a board, reluctant to even touch Marcel, but he leaned down and whispered something in her ear. Her entire demeanor changed in a blink of an eye to one of surprise and I managed to read her lips- ‘really?’ Marcel nodded and I managed to catch a picture of the first smile Tanya had since she said ‘I do’. By the end of the dance, she was actually starting to get into it, resting her head on his chest as they swayed to ‘A Thousand Years’.

It was a complete 180 change, Tanya was now one of the happiest, and dare I say it flirtiest brides I’ve ever seen. She even leaned up to kiss him on the cheek as they sat down, something that took even Marcel by surprise judging by how he blushed.

I genuinely started to wonder if Marcel slipped something in her drink to get her acting so happy when Carol started to nag me again about where her husband was. She was the kind of mother who forgot this was her child’s wedding instead of her own and she wanted pictures of her and ‘Haaarold’. In order to get the fuck away from her I told her I’d go find him. He’d been hitting the open bar a little hard that night, I assumed he was in the bathroom either throwing up or cheating on his wife. It could’ve gone either way at that point.

When I approached the men’s room, I heard something that sounded like gargling or swallowing. Ew, I know, but I kinda hoped to ruin this nasty bitch’s day if her husband really was cheating so I opened the bathroom door with my camera at the ready.

I made eye contact with Harold.

Or rather, I made eye contact with Harold’s head.

It was sitting in the sink, expression twisted in abject horror. The room was soaked in blood, body parts strewn around the floor. Meanwhile, Marcel had stripped out of his tuxedo and was currently swallowing Harold’s arm. Whole.

Now I was wondering if I’d had something slipped into my champagne. Humans can’t just unhinge their jaw like that, each gulp taking Marcel’s arm deeper down his throat. I saw the tips of Harold’s fingers disappear with a small wave of goodbye… and then I dropped my camera.

Yes, I heard something break, no I didn’t care. I just saw the groom eat the goddamn father of the bride. Marcel’s head shot up and his eyes, before now they were a dull, watery gray but now they were mottled brown and red with slitted pupils. I felt frozen when those eyes looked at me.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, one moment.”

Marcel turned to the sink that was free of a man’s head and vomited, I heard several things clatter on the porcelain before he fetched them out and washed them off. With an embarrassed clearing of his throat, he walked up to me and pulled me into the bathroom.

I thought I was dead, but instead Marcel placed several diamonds in my palm. “For the camera, I didn’t mean to startle you,” He said.

“Uh huh,” I managed to get out as I stared at the literal handful of diamonds. This would pay for more than the camera. “… Why did you-”

“Devour Harold? Oh, I’ve wanted to do that for years,” Marcel chuckled as he grabbed some paper towels to wipe off his chin, like that would take away from the fact he was still naked and bloody in front of me. “A terrible person actually tastes quite divine. You would taste absolutely terrible. It’d be like swallowing nails. Meanwhile, a man who offers his own daughter as a sacrificial lamb to something he knows eats humans, he tastes like the richest cut of steak, cooked medium rare and seasoned to perfection.”

Jesus Christ, this twisted situation had taken on a whole new level of fucked up. “Wait, he seriously-”

“Oh, absolutely,” Marcel snorted, “And he’d do it again. All for what happens when my stomach processes human bone.”

I clutched the diamonds. “… You’re not going to hurt Tanya?” I asked.

Marcel shook his head vigorously. “God, no! I kept delaying the wedding in hopes that she’d manage to find a way out, but I think Harold was getting bored with my cold feet. There would be plenty of other people willing to pay for her, even if my payment would be easily thrice what others would offer.”

God, I was starting to feel a little dizzy. Here I was, talking to a human eating groom. I glanced out the door and a horrible idea entered my brain. One that would surely earn Marcel’s good favor and help out Tanya. “… So if I told Carol she could find her husband in the men’s room?” I asked.

Marcel seemed puzzled for a second but caught on quickly. With a nod, he picked up the head and tossed it into one of the stalls. I heard it splash in one of the toilets and I almost started giggling, I was nearing hysteria. “Go right ahead. I’ll be waiting,” He said as he kicked more limbs out of sight.

I almost left when I had to ask one more question.

“What the hell are you?”

Marcel cocked his head to the side before he changed, just for a second. One moment he was a blood soaked man, absolutely horrifying but normal, the next he was a snake… sort of. His body was gone, replaced by the body of an anaconda, but his head was still the same, minus the flick of a slim, forked tongue from his mouth. Then he was back to ‘normal’. He responded with a shrug.

“Funnily enough, I was hoping you’d tell me. I don’t have a clue.”

I left the bathroom and bumped into Carol almost immediately in the hallway. “Well, where is he?” She snapped.

I just pointed a thumb towards the bathroom. “Think he’s not feeling so well,” I said before I was nearly bowled over by the grumpy bitch.

I watched long enough for her to open the door and for a scaled tail to shoot out, snag her around the arm, and drag her into the bathroom before I headed back to the wedding.

The problem seemed to solve itself that night. Marcel came back, the men’s room locked after apparently someone got quite sick in there. Tanya no longer had to behave a certain way to please her mom and I think she had a good night. I used my back up camera to make sure to get all the pictures of her smiling. Carol and Harold vanished into thin air, never to be seen or heard from again. And those diamonds paid for quite the nice new camera.

Like I said, it’s been a year. I sure as hell haven’t forgotten that wedding, but what prompted me to share it was that I got a friend request from Tanya on Facebook. I normally don’t accept friend requests from previous clients, but this one time I chose to make an exception. She does look so much better, she’s going to college, she now sculpts and paints, she regularly volunteers at the woman’s shelter I directed her to when we first me, and every Friday night is group date night at the local arcade with some of Marcel’s friends that now appear to be her friends as well. Apparently Marcel is quite the Dance Dance Revolution master, but is terrible at shooting games.

Her most recent picture was her and Marcel, smiling. And she was holding up an ultrasound picture.

#my stories

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Masterlist

The Hunger Games

Finnick Odair

You’re Losing Me

Inspired by Taylor Swift’s “You’re Losing Me.” How Finnick loses the best thing he’s ever had.

Haymitch Abernathy

Capitol Punishment Masterlist

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol

I'm Sorry

Moments of Haymitch having to mentor his ex-girlfriend

Percy Jackson and the Olympians/Heroes of Olympus

Luke Castellan

Follow Me

Luke's girlfriend is excited to finally become a year-round camper so she can spend it with him. But Luke has other plans for them.

Delicate

"Is it chill that you're in my head? / Cause I know that it’s delicate"

Competing With Gods

When Apollo is sent to camp as a punishment, he sets his sights on Luke's girlfriend.

The Way I Loved You

"But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain / And it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name / So in love that you act insane"

The Final Quest

How a quest with the love of Luke's life turned him away from the gods

Asshole Instructor

Luke has been an asshole but he can't help it until he realizes the girl he likes could be gone any minute

Mine

"You are the best thing that's ever been mine"

Apollo

Immortal Danger

Apollo marries a half-blood without realizing how dangerous it can be

Immortal Danger II

Despite an extravagant wedding, Apollo is still confronted by those who want to end his marriage

John Wick

Forced Love Masterlist

Arranged marriages aren't uncommon in the crime world but John Wick never expected to be forced into one with his boss' daughter.

Criminal Minds

Aaron Hotchner

Undercover in a Skin Tight Skirt

The BAU Chief isn’t fond of sending his scantily clad wife in as bait

That Skirt

Smutty follow up to Undercover in a Skin Tight Skirt

I Can’t Leave

When the reader is forced into hiding, she’s desperate to inform her fiancé and his son

Move On

Rossi tells Aaron he should move on

Moving on to You

Aaron finally tells his longtime crush about his feelings when he almost loses her (Sequel to Move On)

Sparring Matches

The BAU undergoes PT evaluations, that includes sparring matches. And in the ring will be the secret couple, tipping off the rest of the team

Home Sweet Home

Sometimes going home isn’t always a good thing. Especially when your hometown is obsessed with marriage and you have a secret boyfriend.

Spencer Reid

Erotomania

Spencer’s girlfriend has a stalker

Game of Thrones

Sandor Clegane and Robb Stark

Between a Wolf and a Hound I

Sandor Clegane was never naïve enough to think he could marry the king's daughter but it doesn't make it any easier to see her married off.

Between a Wolf and a Hound II

The new Lady of the North tries to cope with the fact that she is now married and has a responsibility to her husband.

Grey’s Anatomy

Mark Sloan

Haunted

Mark finally finds where his wife has been hiding

Twilight

Carlisle Cullen

Sorry to Meet You

The moral dilemma of the patriarch of the Cullen clan finally meeting his mate after 350 years

Attack on Titan

Levi Ackerman

Amnesia

When the Levi Squad goes out on a mission with a few rookies, accidents happen

Reiner Braun

Guard

When Reiner returns from his ten year long mission, he is assigned to protect the the woman he could never have.

#The Hunger Games #the hunger games x reader #thg #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #twilight #twilight x reader #grey’s anatomy #greys anatomy x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo x reader #x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #got #got x reader #john wick #john wick x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader

[panlight]

I mentioned this in an ask last week, but the thing about Breaking Dawn (I mean, other than all of it) is that over and over again, SM just sucks the drama and conflict out of the scenarios she creates.

Renee is going to be pissed about the wedding? Nope, it's cool, she's happy to wedding plan with Alice and Esme.

The pack is going to have to go to war with the Cullens if they change Bella? No, Sam says since it's Bella's choice they're not going to get involved.

Jacob's going to hate Bella forever once she's a vampire? Naw, it's fine, they're still besties and he literally says that she and Edward look good together once he's imprinted (blech). Imprint also solves the tension between the vampires and shifters in a literally forced, unnatural (and thus boring) way.

Bella births a half-vampire baby who prefers blood to human food? It's fine, though, she's not dangerous at all, never tries to bite Charlie or Sue or Billy. (She does bite Jacob but he instantly heals so no one cares.) She also sleeps through the night and can easily communicate her needs. And she's smart and mature enough from birth that she's not a threat like the Immortal Children.

Bella's not going to be able to see Charlie ever again? No, it's cool, Charlie can know she's changed somehow as long as no one uses the word 'vampire.'

Likewise Bella's bloodlust is tamed after one afternoon with Charlie and she's able to go out and meet with lawyers and whatever.

All these potential sources of conflict, drama and plot are just instantly neutralized. So she has to then come up with the convoluted thing where Irina shows up just at the right time to see Renesmee jumping 15 feet in the air to catch a snowflake, and then Irina has to run to tell the Volturi about an alleged immortal child without a) actually confirming it and b) talking to her sisters about it. Then the Volturi use it as an excuse to bring the whole coven to Forks to wipe out the Cullens.

(and once that plot is in motion, she completely ignores any real drama with the visiting vampires' feeding habits; Bella's just a little uncomfortable with it, Edward is lending them his cars, and Jacob just gives the stink eye but does nothing because Renesmee is #1 priority, not the people these other vampires are eating.)

That not only makes Irina act in a weird, forced way, it feels like the start of a whole new story, whereas any of the other points of potential conflict that were neutralized would have felt like natural, organic sources of conflict. Again, this is most likely the result of the story having been written before New Moon and Eclipse and then having to be edited to make it fit, but it's frustrating!

#anti-breaking dawn