#HOLY FUCKING JESUS AT THE RIGHT HAND OF GOD IN HEAVEN ABOVE THIS WAS BOTH SUFFERING AND PURE HAPPINESS

[ccasey0]

OKAY. I did it. @thr-333 i finally did it. i made your lil guy. AND i gave him lore.

but before i show you i want you to see the mass amounts of concept sketches i came up with cuz i couldnt figure this guy out for the life of me.

haha this went in so many different directions. i wanted him to look young, but any time i drew him like that he looked weird. so i tried a teenager. that just looked terrible. eventually i got it right tho :)

oke, lore time! i gave this boi trauma so brace yourselves! also, imma try to make it mostly as a fic cuz i wanna see if i can actually write like that. oh, btw for context go here :)

The altar was beautiful. A tiny hut with no front wall. a large cork board on the back wall with pretty charms hanging from it. and a solid stone table in the center with lavender growing around the edges and corners. it would have been a wonderful sight.....if it wasn't Tommy's final resting place. two large men in black robes and masks covering their faces ushered Tommy forward. His hands were bound, and he was too weak to get away. the men shoved him to his knees, their hands gripping his shoulders hard and mercilessly. the priest stood behind him, speaking out to the crowd. nobody seemed to care that Tommy was just a child who didn't want to be here. he knew he would die one day. but he expected it to be from starvation or some sort of sickness from living on the streets. not like this. not as a sacrifice for some stupid Moon God. The priest finished his speech. shit. Tommy struggled against the ropes. please. i don't want to die. let me go. i know i wasn't good. just please don't kill me. i wont do anything bad again. i promise. please. don't kill me. i don't want to die. tears ran down his face, as he tried to plead with the people all staring at him. words failed him. he couldn't speak. suddenly his whole body went numb with shock as the priest poured a bowl of freezing cold water over his head. the man chanted some words in a strange language as Tommy coughed and tried to reorient himself. he opened his eyes and looked up, trying to see the priests face and plead with him. all he saw was the dagger coming down on his head. the world went silent. time seemed to slow down as the blade reached the space between Tommy's wide, teared up eyes. blood splattered onto the stone floor below them. people cheered, all chanting the same words the priest had spoken. Tommy fell limp. he was dead. his body slumped and flopped onto the ground. the priest picked him up, raising his dead body up for everyone to see. he then laid him down on the altar. saying a prayer and then turning back to the people to preach to them again.

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the two stars frantically tried to tell their story to Casey. two farmer stars. Casey had no idea what either of them were trying to say, as they were both talking over each other. He raised up his hands, gesturing for the two to stop and back up. "okay, okay, slow down. uh, you." he pointed to the one on the right. "what happened?" the star began to recite what she had seen. a boy. dead on an altar built by an obsessive cult village. the small star finished her story and casey folded his arms. "well shit. both of you stay here. tell the others what happened and have Ally and May meet me at the Tree Shrine." There were a few stars that Casey knew the names of. but that's only because they usually followed him around everywhere they could. Casey then looked up at the small owl sitting on his head. he sighed, already dreading the convrsation he and his sister were going to have in the future. "go tell Dellta." the small owl, Abby, nodded slightly and flew away. Casey then held his hand out over the blackness under his feet. he was standing on the barrier between the Night and the Mortal World. a hole formed below him and he fell through, the other side leading to the woods surrounding the Cult Village. he looked around. it was dark out. Casey's time. the Nighttime. perfect. he walked through the forest, moss and mushrooms growing everywhere he stepped. it was cloudy tonight. the moon wasn't out. Casey moved quickly, just a blur through the trees to anyone who might see him. finally, he reached the altar. it was built up on a short cliff, and casey was at the bottom behind it. he jumped up to it, the wind blowing carrying him upward so he could land on top of the structure. he then hopped down to the stone floor below, drifting slowly until his feet reached the cold surface. he turned to see the boy. there he was, laying dead on the glossy stone table. a small incense fire had been lit on his chest and had already begun to burn him. Casey immediately brushed it off of the child, putting out the fire and dusting away the ashes. he stare down and the boy, whose face still had blood stains running down from between his eyes and splatters all over his skin. Casey brushed the hair away from his forehead. he then wiped off some of the blood with his thumb and pressed it to his forehead, painting the mark of the Night. Casey whispered the same words Celestial had spoken when they made Casey and Dellta spirits. the mark glowed and turned from blood to a permanent tattoo on the child. Casey then carefully lifted the boy up in his arms, holding him gently and making his way back to the spirit tree.

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The boy opened his eyes slightly. everything was blurry and way too bright, and he had a horrible ache in his head. his gaze drifted upward as he tried to figure out who was holding him. his vision was still too poor to see them clearly. whoever it was, they seemed gentle. and their hands were very cold. their figure was dark, although their eyes seemed to be glowing yellow. the child tried to speak, but he couldn't even open his mouth. all that came out was a muffled "mmmm....mfff..." The figure slowed down for a second, looking down at him. "ah. you're awake. don't worry, Konton. you're safe now." their voice was tired and draggy, yet somehow warm in a strange way. wait...Konton? is that....my name? Konton. I like it. Chaos in japanese. wait, how do i know that? i don't speak japanese? what is going on?? The boy- Konton squinted his eyes to look at the person holding him. fur, ears, four eyes. what the fuck?? his vision was ever so slowly coming back to him....and his memory. he hadn't even thought of trying to remember what happened until now. it came in flashes. the men. the altar. the water. the knife. He didn't even realize he was crying until the person stopped next to a tree and set him down. the knelt down, reaching forward and brushing a tear off Konton's cheek. "hey. you're okay. no one will hurt you now. but i need you to listen to me for a bit, can you do that?" Konton nodded, bracing himself for whatever this strange person had to say. judging by their face, it was going to be long story.

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To be continued..

Holy shit that took forever. Fics are very time consuming. hope you guys liked it tho! please tell me if ya'll want more of this! i know i should work some more on posting HBT, but the Spirit Au is just so much fun! this kid was originally just a lil guy i made for @thr-333, but i liked him enough to make him canon, just like the stars! also, @allyheart707 @kitmay05 and @icequeenabby have all been included in this as their stars! sorry to the other stars, i just felt like these guys would fit best for the roles i had for them.

also! i was doobling the other day and made this :D

onii mask cuz why not? it's not a canon mask, i was just messing around :) that side profile looks like shit lol. but if you look closely you can see the scar from the incense fire on his chest. Konton doesnt remember the fire since it happened while he was dead. although he remembers everything else about his life except for names. even his. he can remember faces, but no names whatsoever. not even pets.

there is a lot more story to this and i might even continue it if y'all are interested. i also have a funky lil comic cooking in the background that i definitely haven't been procrastinating all weekend haha why would you ever think that :D

[scekrex]

OMG....

I just had one of those weird spontaneous thoughts in my head. I don't know how or why, but suddenly I imagined a wedding scene. While taking his oath, Adam, saying that he pledge his heart and soul to the reader, suddenly blurted out "and my dick". An awkward situation arose, so the reader, while taking his oath, pledged "my love, soul and my ass" to Adam, to make it slightly better. Because he can see Adam's face and know that the first man is very embarrassed because he wanted this to be perfect...

Again I don't know how or why, it just happened, so I decided to write about this to you :)))

Oh my fucking god if ya should ever have ideas like this (slightly cracky) in the future lemme know about em bc I love writing crack fics for reader & Adam

I wave goodbye to the end of beginning

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

The scenery was perfect, planned to the latest detail and when you watched as your fiancè walked down the aisle with Lute by his side, you found yourself unable to hold back a smile. How you had managed to get Adam to agree to this was a totally different story though, while he had been quick to agree to marrying you, he had tried to talk you into walking down the aisle until Lute had offered to be the one who would accompany Adam.

The wedding location was heaven's glorious beach, a spot you had always liked ever since you had crossed the pearly gates. And given that this was not only your favorite spot in all of heaven - right after Adam’s arms of course - but also the location you and Adam hung out the most often if you weren’t chilling at your shared house, it was very obvious to the both of you that this would also be the location where the both of you would seal the bond of loving each other ‘til the very end.

Awaiting you reached out for Adam’s hand and when the first man took yours and let you pull him close, you felt the nervousness leave your body a little, holding onto Adam had helped calming your nerves right from the start, even before the both of you had started dating, it was only natural that his presence would cause your body to relax and give into his soft touch, “Hey there, stupidly handsome,” you grinned at your soon-to-be-sprouse, that grin of yours was met by an equally cocky one as the brunette looked down at you. His gaze drifted to the crowd for a second, spotting Lute in the place that had been reserved for her. The exorcist was looking proud, she seemed to genuinely enjoy the ceremony. And so were the other guests who had already taken their place.

The angelic priest that you two had chosen stepped up to you, his hands gently rested on Adam’s whose hands were holding onto yours. “In the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit,” he spoke with a voice sounding as clear as crystals. The guests rose from their seats and responded, “Amen.” The priest closed his eyes and so you looked back at Adam as the man continued his speech and the welcoming of all the divine souls, ““Grace to you and peace from God our father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” The crowd imitated him, they closed their eyes and tilted their heads slightly upwards, speaking to the mighty father above, “And with your spirit.” When your eyes met Adam’s you spotted joy and happiness, pure, raw emotions that resembled how excited the first man was to marry you, to call you his for all of eternity, in God’s mighty and all loving name. A soft, warm smile met yours and you squeezed Adam’s hands lightly as the priest spoke up yet again, “Dearly beloved, you have come together so that in the presence of the community, your intention to enter into marriage may be strengthened by the Lord with a sacred seal.”

The crowd sat down as the priest moved his head in order to look at you and Adam and as his eyes spotted the love each of you held into your eyes for the other, he knew Adam and you had made the right choice. “Y/N and Adam,” he started with soft spoken words as he lifted his hands from the brunette’s, "Have you come here to enter into marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?” Your eyes flickered from the preacher to your soon-to-be-sprouse as the both of you responded with an assuring, “Yes, I have.” With a nod of approval the man who was about to tie the knot spoke, "Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?” And without hesitation the two of you agreed, “I am.”

The preacher looked at you with softened eyes, then he turned his head towards Adam, offering the first man a reassuring smile, “Declare your consent before God.” You felt as the brunette’s hands got all sweaty and you felt them shaking a little. In comfort you spread your wings and covered the crowd and the priest’s view with them to give Adam as much privacy as you were to create. You understood why he was so nervous, who wouldn’t be after the women who had been created for his soul left him? Not you though, you were forever gonna be his husband. “Go on,” you whispered as your eyes locked onto Adam’s and the first man seemed to drown in the kindness and love they held for his soul, despite dating you for a couple thousand years, he was always surprised when he looked into your eyes and found so much love that you were feeling for him. The brunette cleared his throat as he copied you and spread his wings as well, given that his wings were way bigger than yours, they shielded both of you from curious eyes entirely, they left every little movement of yours to the imagination of the people around you.

“I, Adam, take you, Y/N, to be my husband. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life,” as he spoke the words he lowered the wings, you were quick to copy his movements, if the first man was ready to be seen, so were you. “I pledge to you my heart and my soul, my love and my desire,” for a moment he went silent and you thought he was done, but then Adam did the most him-coded thing in all of heaven. He squeezed your hands as he rolled his eyes and offered you a lazy grin, “Well, and of fucking course I pledge to you my dick as fucking well.”

You heard the outraged m gasps from the audience but really, you could not care any less about Adam’s choice of words, this was who he truly was after all, this was the man you were marrying, not someone who would simply repeat the words some other man wrote for him. In the corner of your eye you saw as Lute rolled her eyes, yet she had an amused smirk on her lips. The band mates of Adam seemed shocked and yet not surprised at all, they knew their lead singer and guitarist way too well to not have suspected such a thing.

And despite the audience disagreeing with your point of view, no one stepped up or actually commented on it. You yourself tried your best to hold back the laughter that was trying to bubble from your throat, now was not the right time to be amused by the first man’s choice of words. The preacher next to you seemed less amused by Adam not taking things as serious as he had hoped the brunette would, yet he also bit back a comment and let it slide. You nudged the priest with the tip of your wing as he continued to grumpily look at your soon-to-be-sprouse before you spoke up, I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life.” Gently you squeezed Adam’s hands as your facial expression turned equally cocky to the brunette’s, “I pledge to you my heart and my soul, my love and my lust, my ass and my mouth” A moment of silence rolled over the ceremony, no one really knew how to deal with the subtle yet so unfitting changes you had decided to make, but that left Adam and you unbothered.

This time it was Adam who nudged the preacher with his wing, trying to get the man to continue with the ceremony, it took him a moment to understand but then he cleared his throat loudly and continued his speech, “May the Lord in his kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before Him and graciously bring to fulfillment his blessings within you. What God has joined, let no one put asunder."

[sevs-corner]

One Piece (Reverse Isekai)

Taking in a deep breath of fresh air, you could feel your chest feel a little bit lighter after all the hustle and bustle of your current everyday life.

You then took a seat on the spotted blanket you've laid beforehand, gently placing the picnic basket which was filled all sorts of sweets, snacks, and drinks.

Grabbing a triangle shaped sandwich from the basket made you think back on how your life had led up to this moment right now.

Ever so busy, this was the only opportunity in a long time that you have spared for yourself and it was honestly refreshing. "Too much work makes Jack a dull doll after all," you mumbled to yourself with a pout.

Though that was instantly changed with a sharp gasp when a mountain of bodies fell before you.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" You screeched, crawling backwards as fast as possible.

Taking huge gulps of air as your mind goes haywire of what the hell just happened in a manner of seconds, you couldn’t help but notice the outfits of the strangers. All bright, colorful, and-

"Tacky," you mumbled in disdain. You weren't one for fashion but at least you had some sense of what worked and not, but THEY clearly didn't.

Seeing that they haven't moved an inch since landing on the grass, you decided to move slowly. Branch on hand in case anything may happen but for now, it was used to test if the bodies were still actually alive and not some dark company dispatch of human corpses.

'Oh god,' you prayed with a sweatdrop, 'I hope this actually isn't a deep dark conspiracy.'

With nothing but a couple of feet between you and the pile of bodies, you poked someone in a red coat of sorts.

"Hey," you called out in a soft voice, "you alive?"

"Yeah.." They grumbled.

"Huh?"

"Huh?"

You both looked into each other's eyes in shock, and you noticed the deep dark eyes of theirs, as the guy noticed your colorful and bright ones as well.

It clicks, the light bulb switched on and you knew who they were.

"WHAAAA- LUFFY???"

You fell on your ass in shock, before clamping it shut, afraid that this was all a mirage but you thought to yourself that you felt something soft  from the branch. It couldn't possible be?

"Who are you?" the pirate demanded with a groan as he tried to escape from the piles of bodies over him.

Now that you look closer, the rest of crew was right on top of him! Along with a couple of other familiar faces as well.

"Oh shit," you mumbled to yourself, " I must be dreaming…" You then touched the grass and tried to smell the air.

Everything felt so vivid, from the backwash taste of that old tea you drank from this morning to how a hand was curled over your ankle.

"Wait what-?!" You screeched at the hand that appeared on your leg and seeing who it was from, made you scream louder.

"LORDY JESUS HEAVEN ABOVE IS THIS REAL?!"

"Miss just who are you?" He honestly asked because right now, he was confused as hell.

One moment he was fighting with his crew after arriving in an unknown island and in the next, unconscious under a lump of his friends.

You quickly snapped to the voice who called out once more, and you could see Luffy struggling with a frown on his face.

"And where are we?" He grumbled, clearly displeased by the current situation he was in.

Snapping out of your stupor, you ran back to the pile and began to peel off the bodies above Luffy.

"Holy crap you're heavy-" you mumbled to yourself as cyborg wouldn't budge, "give me a sec and try not to move so much, I'll get'cha out." You replied back with a grimace, man- your arm strength was at the negatives right about now.

"Just pull me out!" He whined and you looked at him in question, realizing that he was speaking in a language quite familiar. Now that you had thought about it- how did you understand him anyways?

Though hearing him huff in annoyance made you completely disregard the thought for now, and began to work double time as you tried to forcibly pull him out of the pile. He was made out of rubber so he should be okay…right?

"OW OW OW!"

Okay maybe he wasn't.

"Hold on tight okay?!" You don’t know whether he understood you or not but you'd guess by how panic-stricken you were, he understood by how you gripped him a bit tighter.

Digging your heels in the grass, you began pulling with all the might you could muster, yet… you couldn't help but laugh at the thought that this moment was quite similar to your high school's tug-of-war championships. Except this time- it was with a bunch of people who were unconscious.

"AAAAAAAAA- THERE!"

In one last burst of energy, you manage to pull out Luffy with his legs recoiling back into him- making him fly over you as you laid on your back, tired and panting.

"Good God that's enough exercise outta me today!" You wheezed, grabbing your chest as you tried to control your breaths. Your arms we're numb yet aching but you still pushed yourself up, turning around to check on Luffy who landed face first on the dirt.

"Are you okay?" You called out, hoping he would answer but all you got was a murmur. Shrugging your shoulders, you decided that he was fine and looked towards the now groggy group of people who seemed to be waking up.

Which snaps you back to your reality, how would you explain this happenstance to them? Actually… how is this all happening in the first place?

"Oi! Get your asses off me!"

"Shut it Marimo!"

Oh, they're awake, awake.

"There's a person over there."

"Damn- did they get Luffy?!"

"No I didn't!" You shouted in a panic, hands up in a surrender as you stare at his crew in fright.

"He was stuck and- and I tried to pull him out!" You raked a hand through your hair before demonstrating while explaining, "But he was stuck so I kept pulling and pulling and pulling until-,"

"What… is she saying?" Nami stared at you with wide eyes. The group glanced at the archaeologist who gave a shrug, even she was clueless at the language you were speaking. It wasn't like the ancient language she spoke of, it was VASTLY different from what she had ever heard before. Which begs the question,

"Where are we?" Franky mumbles out in shock, now taking in the weird things that were surrounding him and their group. They we're- in short- shocked.

"Guys! You're awake!"

"Aep!"

Luffy huffed out right beside you, which made you squeal in shock, ungracefully falling onto your ass where you moped in embarrassment.

"Hey," the Straw Hat captain poked your cheek that wasn't covered by your side, "are you okay?"

You shook your head, still buried at the shame you feel at your current existence.

"Wait, she understands us,"  Law pointed out with an inquisitive look, very suspicious of the person that currently had a dark aura around them.  "And she seems to be familiar with us as well."

"Hey shortstack," Kidd clicked his tongue to grab your attention, "mind telling us where we're at?"

You now immediately move to stand, frightened, by the sight of not only Luffy's crew but Law's, and Kidd's.

'I'm gonna live a short life,' you thought to yourself, slowly tearing up.

"You're scaring her!" Nami huffed out, "How can we get info outta her if you're making her shake in her boots?"

"No, no- its okay," you waved your hand, signaling that you were all right- well, as best as you could convey that feeling.

Taking a couple of deep breaths, you felt lucky that they were patiently waiting for you to calm down. After a couple of breaths, you offered a shaky smile and spoke the best you could in their language.

"Hi!" you greeted with a wave (which some returned *cough* Chopper *cough*) "You at..uh… Manila! Here, right now," you pointed downwards with a tap of your foot.

"Is that the name of this island?" Robin asks, and you shook your head.

"It is the main town of the- a-ah! I mean main city of …what's that word.. Country called Philippines," you whipped your phone out and tapped on a search engine app to show them the map of this country. You hoped they understood you from the tilt of their heads.

"What's that brick thing on your hands?" Kidd asks, genuinely curious as he sees you tap and swipe your fingers on the thing.

"Phone!" You simply said, "Explain me more later?"

Surprisingly, Kidd nods but continues to eye this 'phone' you speak of.

With a grin, you showed them a picture which depicts the map of your country, which Nami gasp in wonder at. Most of them did actually, as they watch you swipe to map next to map.

"That's amazing!" Nami compliments, "did you make those maps yourself?"

You laughed nervously, waving your hand around in denial. There was no way in hell you were excellent in cartography, hell- you haven't even picked up a map in years.

"How do you understand us?"

 You turn to Law who glares at you, hand obviously laid at the hilt of his sword.

"I-uh," you mumbled, slowly stepping away from the range of his blade. "I know a bit? Pieces of your language that you're from."

"Is this a new island in the new world?"

Shaking your head, everyone gasps or frowns at your response. 

"I'll explain more at my home." You insisted, now feeling the stares of people from across the park, near the roadside. You had to get them safe now or else…

"Why would we? We don't even know you," Zoro comments while standing in front of his captain, who he already knew was curious by your existence.

Sanji had done the same in front of his other crew members. Arms crossed in front of his chest as his stands to prepare for any scenario that may happen. 

You were shaking, hands were trembling as you try to fight the cold sweat that slowly slips down your neck. You wanted them to be safe but how would convince them that you weren't a threat?

You didn't know what to do so you just said whatever first came to your mind, "Because staying here right now is death!"

They wince at the thought but seeing that- despite your continuously shaked-up form-  you tried to offer some help to them, they had no choice but to trust you in this never-before-heard land.

The three captains share a look before nodding.

"We'll go with you!" Luffy laughs, and you breathed out a sigh of relief. Now feeling a little bit more confident than before, you quickly tossed all of your stuff back to your picnic basket before trudging towards the bus station.

"I knew I should've stayed in Mass longer."

[xtrashmammalstefx]

Where My Demon’s Hide (A Zak Bagans x Nephilim Reader SMUT!)

WARNINGS: SMUT, LANGUAGE

SPECIAL THANKS TO: @xcazzax​ who not only gave me this idea but who has inspired me to maybe write Zak Bagans fics for each day of October (or at least try to). Thanks girly, for helping me get my mojo back. 😊

I arrived at the Asylum just as they were setting up the cameras. I've been with the GAC for a few years now and I have yet to have a boring day with them. They are and always will be my family. Aaron, was like a goofball older brother who smokes like a chimney, looks tough as shit but is actually chicken shit (not that that's a bad thing, lord knows I'm not brave when locked in a haunted room  on my lonesome). Billy is my punk rock brother who has also not grown out of the punk/emo phase of life. Jay is the responsible one of the group (aka the dad) who sometimes looks like he's ashamed of having raised such dumbass kids.  And there's Zak, the main man of GAC who is both crazy and beautiful. He wasn't afraid to get in an evil spirits face, and even opened up his home to those who were harming others in their old one's. It's that twisted generosity that has led to moments like these.

Aaron looked nervous and Billy seemed to not want to leave the van unless absolutely necessary. That only meant one thing.

“How is he?” I asked Aaron who was getting the equipment ready.

“Um, well...”

“ C'MON SHOW YOURSELF YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!” We heard Zak yell from inside the asylum.

“Oh,” I sighed. I swear it was like Zak attracted evil (and sometimes demonic) spirits like chocolate attracts a hoard of kids. Then again he was more than okay with investigating places with the most gruesome of histories. “I'll see if I can cool him down before the shoot. Just hang tight.”

“'Kay, good luck Y/N.” Aaron said.

I grabbed a flashlight from the van and walked in to the asylum. Zak was in the middle of reception area with a wild look in his eye. “Zak?”

He looked at me. “There's something here I-I know it!”

I looked around not seeing anything until my eyes landed on a shadowy figure hovering around Zak. Ah shit. “Zak it's not one of the residents,” I said. “One of your little friends is just being an asshole.”

The shadow looked up and snarled at me.

“Yeah I'm talking about you,” I rolled my eyes. “Now kindly fuck off before I hose your sorry ass down with holy water.”

It growled and vanished.

“Thanks,” Zak said calming down a bit.

“We really need to do something about this Zak,” I said. “You can't keep letting them get to you like that. It's how they win.”

“I know but...I don't know how else to keep them from hurting anyone,” he said. “From hurting you.”

“Well it's gone for now, and that's all that matters,” I said brushing his cheek with my hand. “Now are we just gonna chill in here or are we gonna investigate this bitch?”

He smirked. “C'mon my ghost whisperer let's get you a mic and a camera.” He threw his arm around my shoulders and escorted me back out of the asylum and to the GAC van.

Eventually the sun went down fully and the haunting hour was upon us. “Okay Y/N why don't you stay here by yourself for a bit and see what you can get.” Zak said when we reached the children's ward.. Sadistic fucker.

“Sure,” I said. He and the crew left and I sat down cross-legged on the ground and put my 'gift' to work. “Hello there. I was wondering if we could talk for a minute if that's okay.” I placed the spirit box on the floor in front of me. “You see this little box? Well if you talk into it I can hear you...er I mean the world will hear you. I for one don't really need it. So what do you say?”

“D-Do you know where my mommy is?” A small voice called out in the darkness.

I sighed. “No sweetie, I don't...what's your name?”

“H-Hazel,” she said.

“It's nice to meet you, Hazel, I'm Y/N,” I said. “Can you do me a favor and speak into this?” I motioned at the spirit box. “My friends really want to know you, and help you if we can.”

“R-Really? Wuh-What about Dr. Meanie?” she asked.

“Dr. Bronson can't hurt you anymore,” I said. “And if he tries, he'll have to deal with me.”

I suddenly felt a weight on my lap, like that of a small child snuggling up to mommy.

“I-Is this okay?” she asked.

“Yes, beautiful, it's fine.” I reached out and wrapped my arms around her. “God, how did such a sweet little angel like you end up here? This is no place for a child.”

“M-Mommy came here when I was still in her tummy,” she explained. “They took me away after I was born and I never saw her again.”

“Do you know how you ended up like this?” I asked. “You're awfully young to be as you are.”

“I-I got sick...Dr. Meanie wouldn't give me my medicine 'cause I slapped Tippy on the head for pulling my hair. One day I went to sleep, and...and suddenly I was invisible.”

“Have you tried to go into the light?” I asked. “I'm sure you'll find your mommy there, and someday I'll be there too.”

“I thought I saw it once but...I was afraid. Dr. Meanie tells us it's not safe.”

“It is safe,” I said. “I promise you it is a thousand times better than this place.” I wanted to say shit hole but I had a rule about cussing in front of kids, even the dead ones.

“It's in my room,” she whispered.

I sniffed back a tear and kissed the top of her head. “Go to it,” I urged her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, angels belong in heaven after all,” I said brushed her cheek and she giggled.

“Thank you, Ms. Y/M,” she said standing up and vanishing through the nearby doorway.

“Good bye sweet angel,” I said before turning off the spirit box and pausing my camera.

I left the ward and got Zak on the walkie. “Alright, I'm done.”

“'Kay I'm down in the basement if you wanna...WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“Zak?” He didn't answer. “ZAK!?” Still nothing. I sighed. “Dammit.”

I took off running.

Down in the basement Zak was looking around and shouting like a madman. “Zak what happened?! What's going on?!”

“There was a shadowing standing right fucking next to me,” he said. I looked around and sure enough a tall shadowy figured hovered behind him.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” I snapped at it.

“My, my...” it said smugly. “Aren't you an interesting specimen.”

“Leave us alone, now!” I said. It laughed. “I'm not fucking around! Leave and never return to this sacred ground.” He flinched at the words I've said more times than I would like.

“Foolish woman,” he laughed. “This place is anything but sacred.”

“It wasn't in your time,” I said walking towards a nearby wall. “But now...” I took my bottle of holy water and dabbed some onto my hand. I then drew a cross on the wall.

“Is that all you got?” the demon scoffed.

I smirked. “Lesson number one in haunting,” I said taking out my small switchblade. I made a small cut on my fore finger  and drew a symbol on the wall above the cross. A symbol no demon could fight against. “Don't piss off a Nephilim.”

The empty pits where it's eyes once were widened and a loud roar erupted from its mouth.  

“I, Y/N, the daughter of Michael send thee to the house of thy uncle Lucifer...may he not have mercy on your soul.” The ground opened up and the shadow was swallowed by a wall of flames. “I hate fucking demons,” I muttered once it was gone.

Zak looked at me in shock. “Is there really never gonna be a time when this doesn't surprise you?” I asked.

“Nope,” he said snapping out of it.

“You feeling okay?” I asked placing my hand on his cheek.

“Yeah,” he said. “Thanks...”

“Anytime,” I said pecking him on the cheek.

We continued investigating and got plenty of evidence that made sleeping not an option for the next year.

That night we were hold up in a hotel. I couldn't sleep so once I was showered and jammied up I went for a walk. So many different things ran through my mind and I tried to sort them out as best I could. But then I heard the shouting...

“LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” Zak damn near roared. “For fucks sake!” I heard him cry.

I went up to his door and knocked furiously. “Zak it's me, let me in!”

“Not now Y/N,” he begged.

“Yes now,” I snapped at him. “I know there's someone there with you and I'm the only one who can help, so let me fucking in!”

A moment later the door opened and Zak stood there looking exhausted and just done with life. It was terrifying and heartbreaking. ..but it was nothing compared to what his friend looked like. It was a snarling beast with skin resembling that of a dried date; brown and shiny. It's arm was around Zak's neck, holding him in a choke-hold. “He is mine.” It said, it's voice deep and chilling.

“No,” I said. “No he fucking isn't!”

I wrapped my arms around Zak and the demon let go as though it had burned. “A daughter of Michael...why am I not surprised?”

“In the name of my father leave this place!” I demanded.

“Brave like your father...” It said. “Unfortunately you're as foolish as he is as well. Watch your back daughter of Michael for I am not the only one in this world and my brethren aren't as friendly as I...” Friendly. My. Ass.

“IN THE NAME OF MY FATHER LEAVE THIS PLACE YOU COCKAROACH LOOKING SHIT!” I demanded once more...this time he listened.

With the demon gone I pulled back. “It's gone.”

Zak nodded. “Which one was it?”

“I think it was one of the pests you picked up at Bobby Mackey's.” I explained helping him to his bed.

“I thought we got rid of all of them?” he asked.

“Yeah well it seems this conniving little fucker did a good job of hiding during the clean up,”  I said. “You gonna be okay?”

“I think so,” he said. “But I'd still feel better if you stayed...if that's alright.”

“You don't even have to ask,” I said rubbing his back with my hand. “Jesus,” I gasped. “You're burning up!”

“I just had a hot shower...the tap might have been busted 'cause shit was that water scalding.” I rolled my eyes.

“It didn't burn you too bad did it?” I asked. He shrugged. “Alright off with the shirt.” He arched an eyebrow at me. “Not like that...I just wanna check for burns.”

He pulled off his t-shirt and tossed it aside. I crawled behind him on the bed and inspected his back. His skin was smooth, without so much as a scar. Even the tattoo on top was left unscathed. I leaned in and brought my lips to it. “You're good,” I said.

He turned around and our faces were suddenly closer than they've ever been. “Z-Zak?”

He said nothing...just leaned in and brought his lips to mine. So far in this brief life I've had four unforgettable nights.

The first was when I first met my dad when I was five. The second was when I found out what I was when I was thirteen...I felt at peace knowing everything I'd experienced finally made sense. The third was when I used my power to help the spirit of my best friend move on after a drunken asshole took her life. The fourth was the first time I went to Zak's house and gave him answers about the entities there.

And now...I was experiencing my fifth.

After a while Zak and I leaned back on the bed. His pants wound up joining his shirt, and eventually my clothes followed. I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight as he pushed into me. I gasped. Like the rest of him, his length was pretty... thick.

I whimpered as he moved inside me. Our skin slapped together and he grunted with almost every thrust. I don't know how much time had passed but eventually I tightened around him, my toes curling up. “ZAAAK!!!” I moaned as my whole body tensed up.

Zak thrust a few more time, each time becoming more sloppy. “FUCK!” He groaned as he filled me up. He collapsed beside me and eventually sleep overcame us.

“I love you,” I whispered just before I fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up needing very badly to pee. I tiptoed to the bathroom (not wanting to wake Zak) and relieved myself. When I got back Zak was sitting up with a confused look on his face.

“Zak?” I said sitting back down next to him.

He looked at me and tightened the blanket around his hips. “Y/N? WHAT THE FUCK?”

“What? What's wrong?”

“What's wrong? Are you fucking serious?” he said freaking out. “You're naked! FUCK, I'M NAKED! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED LAST NIGHT?!”

“Y-You mean you don't remember?” I said suddenly feeling uneasy.

“I remember coming back to the room after the investigation. I-I remember the inhumanly hot shower...then I saw this..this thing...next thing I know I'm waking up naked and raw.” My unease grew.

“I-I don't under...” I suddenly saw a dark, leathery skinned figure standing beside Zak's side of the bed. It had a sickening smirk on it's face.

“My brother was right, daughter of Michael,” it snarled. “You really are foolish.”

Realization hit me like a truck.

“SON OF A-!”

[my-fanfic-library]

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [20]

Masterlist

A/N: I write this as I sit in bed, knowing full well that I should be on the bus right now on my way to my lecture, but that doesn’t matter. Thank you all for your help last night, it truly did help me calm down a lot. Also I’d like to apologise for clearly being over dramatic (but God has punished me because I am actually a little ill now Oof). Anywho, enjoy the chapter and enjoy the gif of Claes which may or may not suggest acts that you shall do to Dracula which most definitley would not be in line with the current traffic laws

Oh, also a warning - there’s quite a few sexual references in this one and also an almost handjob.

~^*^~

Now, while Dracula was the most sophisticated, high maintenance, gentlemanly gentleman that you had ever had the pleasure of meeting, he definitely had some weird quirks. For one, he truly enjoyed showers and baths. He didn’t need them, considering his body didn’t sweat and nor did he reek of death (only to the human nose, apparently - dogs could smell him from miles off). He said that he simply liked the convenience of it. One of humanities greatest inventions, he had proclaimed.

Currently, you were indulging in his most recent quirk. Back pressed against the door of the bathroom, you could hear the shower running and another sound. Music. What you originally would have expected to be beautiful classics like Gymnopedie No. 1, maybe Clair De Lune or something along those lines, was actually...

Lil Nas X’s Old Town Road.

You were in hysterics. Your stomach had knotted with the force of your (almost) silent laughter, tears were threatening the corner of your eyes and your jaw ached. You didn’t have any idea just how Dracula had found it, or why he liked it so very much as to put it on repeat, but listening to him hum along the tune was spiralling you down into painful bouts of laughter every second that you heard it and continued to think about the bizarreness of the entire ordeal.

Maybe you should have laughed a little further away, since a certain male had heard the laughter that you had genuinely tried to conceal. He wanted to catch you off guard for being so inconsiderate to both his wishes to bathe and his music choices.

Back still pressed firmly against the door, you had to lean further into it just to support yourself and when whoosh. Down you went as steam billowed out and onto your back you went. It was Dracula’s turn to laugh now. You scowled, laugh immediately disappearing from your features as you pushed yourself up to look at him. Regret hit you. In just a towel, secured to his waist by his hand, he loomed over you as he continued to chuckle. His other arm extended over your head, holding the door open and holy shit, you didn’t realise the expanse of the muscle he had. Beads of water rolled down his skin, a thin layer of heat steaming off of him, as if to physically scream ‘look at how how I am!’ And you chocked on air. His hair all wet and falling into his face, his chest puffed out as his laughter continued. Dear heavens above, you should have stayed in the bedroom and far, far away from him when he looked like this.

Which one of you was the cannibal again? You couldn’t remember.

“Do you no longer find my taste in music amusing, or is there something suddenly bothering you?” He teased, eyes looking over your form. All that you wore was one of his much too oversized shirts. You had told him that you enjoyed to sleep in it because it was comfortably, but the truth was that it swallowed you with his scent and you loved it. You hadn’t even realised that the music was no longer playing.

“I-“ you were lost for words, gawking at him.

“Oh, you see something you like?”

“No- I- you know what, I think I’m gonna just got for a quick jog to, uh, I don’t know- Scotland. Yes, Scotland.”

“Darling, you would never make it out of this room. I wouldn’t let you.”

“Drac,” you huffed, “please stop doing things that make me feel a burning need to mock you because I don’t like your cockiness when you get me back.”

“Well, how is it fair that you get to have your way with me, but I can’t?”

“Dracula you had your way with me before you,” for the last word of your sentence, you brought up your fingers to use as air quotes, “died.”

“And I hadn’t even started.” He smirked, “now, is there something that you wanted?”

“No, you can return to your shower. Maybe try a different song, though, Old Town Road gets old fast.”

“I think I have an even better idea.” His hand that held the door fell and hooked around your waist, pulling you into the room. You gently yelped in surprise as he pulled your chest flush to his. You could feel the water soaking the shirt immediately and you tried to wiggle your way out of his grasp. The door shut behind you, “stop moving or I’ll drop the towel.” You froze.

“Oh, c‘ mon Drac, Barefoot Contessa was about to start.” You pouted.

“You were very clearly more interested in me than in the television. Now, as you can see, I’ve left the water running.”

“Good for you. Your water bill will be high this month.” You retorted.

“Care to join me?”

“Hah, no.”

He dipped his head down to your mark, which had scarred over nicely. Pushing the hair away from that side of your neck, he pressed a kiss. You shuddered, balling your hands into fists. He wasn’t about to win. You couldn’t afford to let him win again. He pressed a second kiss against it, and when you still showed signs of resilience, his tongue flicked out. Sweet Jesus. A blissful and intense tingle spread through your shoulders and down your back. Your knees buckled and you pressed your hands to his firm chest to keep yourself upright.

“Much better.” He hummed, “have I persuaded you, yet?”

“No.” You breathed.

His mouth began to work against your neck, kisses here and there, his tongue occasionally trailing a quick stripe across your skin. If just his kisses like this drove you haywire, what the fuck would you do in much more intimate circumstances? It became apparent quickly that you wouldn’t be able to stand much more of this abuse and-

“Okay fine! But no funny business. We are meant to be going out today.”

“I won’t promise to keep my hands to myself, but I’ll definitely obey your command, my darling.”

You watched him as he used his fingers to bind the towel to his body. The room was filling with steam once more and you were choking on the humidity. Mostly. His eyes glossed over you, a sheen of something over them. His fingers trailed from your waist, down your hips and to the hem of his your shirt.

“How about we dispose of this for the time being?” His tongue flicked out to wet his lips. Your heart thundered in your chest. This man. He’d certainly be the death of you - figuratively or quite literally, you weren’t sure.

“Alright.” You whispered. Your eyes locked with his and with a slow, yet swift movement, he pulled the material up and over your head. It landed somewhere but he was otherwise occupied now, looking your body over once more.

“You didn’t even wear underwear to bed?” He raised his eyebrow, “my goodness. You minx.”

“What can I say?” You shrugged, “it’s much more freeing.”

He chuckled deeply. A pink tint adorned your face and he knew that you were a little embarrassed to be so bare before him. He hadn’t realised up until this moment when his eyes scanned you that he’d accidentally left a pink blossom on your neck which was beginning to bloom purple. A wicked and smug smile crossed his lips.

“Go and get in,” he whispered the command and you did so, not without trailing your fingers against his torso as you moved past him. He turned, enchanted, taking in the back angles of your body. You truly were a goddess. There was no other explanation that was feasible.

His eyes became greedy, watching the way the glass began to steam once more as hot beads of water began to cascade over you. You sighed at the feeling. Ducking your head under the jet of water, your hair became wet immediately. When you threw your head back with a gasp, Dracula very almost lost all control. The way your hair stuck to you perfectly, strands accentuating the curves of your upper body, water streaming from the ends and washing over every single curve of you.

Your cheeks were now red from the heat of the water and you were tugged backwards suddenly by his hands. Your back became flush with his chest and his lips came down to attack your shoulders. His hands ran against your skin, careful not to touch anywhere he’d know you’d like a little too much. How had he ended up this lucky?

“I didn’t even need a shower today. I had one last night.” You grumbled, but you were savouring his touch.

“You’re keeping me company.” He hummed against your skin.

You turned in his arms, wrapping your own firmly around his neck so that you could stand on your toes with support. You were a little closer his height now. His hands trailed along your back, feeling every inch of skin yet he remained adamant to not touch you where you were beginning to crave it most.

“Maybe I didn’t want to.” You began to press kisses to his collarbones.

“Maybe I didn’t want you to, either, yet here we are.”

He drove you backwards and your back hit the wall, behind where the water was coming from the shower head. The wall was freezing and eased your body where the heat was making it uncomfortably hot. You lowly groaned at the sensation and Dracula began his kisses on your neck, your shoulders, and the first few inches of your chest. Your fingers knitted into his hair, your lips parted slightly and shit, a familiar warmth spread to your gut.

“Drac,” you gasped and he stopped, pressing his body into yours. What kind of game was he playing?

“Yes, [First]?”

“You know, we could totally just...” you trailed off, hoping he’d be able to finish your sentence himself. You bit your lip, anticipating his response.

“Well, we aren’t.” He chuckled lightly, “wasn’t it you that just said no funny business? Look at you now, practically begging for me.”

“You’re the one who started this.” You pouted.

“Actually, you are. Had you not been outside of the bathroom at all, I never would have felt the desire to have you join me. But if you’re going to get greedy and expect more than I’m willing to offer, then I suggest that you go and get yourself ready for our outing.”

“Alright.” You almost pushed past him, stomping out of the shower and plucking up the shirt at you neared the door. If he was going to play games with you, you would finish it. Even if that meant by yourself.

“Oh, and [First],” he called and you snapped your head around to look at him sharply, he was grinning, “don’t do anything that you would prefer me to do. I will know, and there will be consequences.”

~^*^~

An hour later and you were finally ready to leave. You had eaten, and gotten yourself dried and dressed. Due to the intense August heat, you had opted for a sundress that showed off the bottom halves of your legs and exposed your arms and your chest and your back. Dracula liked it very much, but he had put up a fight about you wearing it outside where other men could so freely look at you.

One thing that had genuinely shocked you was Dracula’s newest addition to his résumé - driving. He had surprised you approximately a week ago by picking you up from the gym in a shiny, brand new Jag. Apparently he had felt the need to learn this skill to fit in a little more and to make his way to you when he found out you had gone northward without the papers reporting on a large black beastly hound walking the length of the M1.

He couldn’t have looked more bougie if he tried. His suit, a little more causally worn than usual with the first two buttons undone and exposing his chest just a little, the suit jacket right over the top and open to show no waitcoat like usual. He had opted for some glasses today and had your mouth been open, you’d be drooling all over the centre console.

“Stop looking at me like that, I’m finding it hard to concentrate.” He stated lowly.

“Don’t look so fucking good them.” You crossed your arms and looked ahead instead at the streets of London rushing by.

“I can’t help it. It’s my thing.” You scoffed at his words.

“It is not your thing, you do it on purpose.” You huffed at him.

“I’ve been caught.”

“... why don’t we just pull over for like ten minutes?”

“[First], I am not pulling over.” He told you, “get a grip of yourself, woman.”

He laughed. He was not getting away with toying with you all morning. He had made it his mission when you had woken up to ignite every inch of your skin with his touch, he had hovered his lips over yours, he had done everything in his power to make you feel weak in the knees and you had finally had enough.

Reaching over, your hand came to rest right between his legs and his laughter faded with a soft “ah,” and he couldn’t help the smallest moan that left his lips. His head automatically threw back and he had to will himself to keep his eyes on the road. He spoke your name dangerously. It was a warning to stop. He’d had his fun, it was your turn. You began to slowly and tantalisingly move your hand along his length. He drew in a breath. It had been a very long time since this had occurred and the sudden recollection of the feeling drove him so quickly to the edge of insanity that he thought he would crash the car. A shaky breath left his lips, his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in his bottom lip between his teeth.

Your smirked proudly. Who knew vampires still worked anatomically? And could still feel the pleasure?

Well, you learnt something new everyday. This was your TIL.

A fire began to burn in the pit of his stomach and he couldn’t concentrate on anything except for the feeling of your hand. He genuinely wanted to cry. Eyes flickering to the rear view mirror, he made sure that there wasn’t a car behind him and slammed on the breaks. Your body became restrained against the seat belt and you knew to take your hand away.

“Do you have a death wish?” He growled, turning to face you. Fuck, how did anger make him even more attractive than to begin with?

“Well, my boyfriend once told me that his dick would kill me, so yes, yes I do.” His face softened. You had never called each other official names yet. It just hadn’t been discussed.

“Your boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I know. He’s a right catch. The only problem with him is that he’s spent all morning riling me up and I’ve had nothing to show for it.” You dramatically sighed.

“He sounds like an arsehole.” Dracula mused, playing along.

“He really is. I still love him, though.”

Before Dracula could lean over and crash his lips to yours like he wanted to, a car behind him honked and he was forced to simply smile and gloat over the fact that you had finally confessed that you loved him, too.

~^*^~

The first half of your outing went swimmingly well. Dracula was all smitten, insistent on holding your hand as you wandered around the shops just looking at everything. You were pulling him around like an excitable puppy, into every store to show off some of the greatest things humanity had created since the 1800s.

When it came to around lunchtime, Dracula inquired into your current hunger status, and you had denied his offer to eat. You hadn’t been shopping in so long and you always found it fun to just see what things were on sale.

It was, however, in the midst of the lunchtime slump as most people made their way to the food court that the worst was destined to happen. His voice had called out to you, as Dracula had his back turned towards you. It didn’t look as though you were together considering the space and the fact that you were looking away from each other. Your head snapped over.

“Hey, what’s a pretty thing like you being out alone? Wouldn’t you prefer some company?” You clutched your bag and you heard the click of Dracula’s shoes as he turned to look at the commotion behind him.

“Actually, I’m uh, I’m-“

“Here, I’ll treat you.” His hand came out and grasped your wrist.

“No, really-“

Dracula’s hand suddenly planted over his and you looked over to see a deadly look on his face. If looks could kill. The eyes of the gentleman currently trying to steal you away from him flashed with fear.

“She isn’t interested.” Dracula spoke very clearly, very slowly and made sure to make himself look as tall as possible. You shrunk down a little.

“Come on, man, don’t get involved.” Clearly whoever this man was, was an idiot.

“Don’t get involved?” Dracula scoffed, “some filthy vermin has its hand on something that belongs to me. So I suggest that you remove it.” With some force, he squeezed and you felt the pressure in your arm. It released as Dracula pulled the man’s hand off of you.

“Fuck this.” He grumbled and slumped away as quickly as he could.

Well, that was the trip ruined. Dracula’s mood had soured. Just as you needed his good mood to help you with your shopping, it had very quickly wilted. It wasn’t going to stop you, however, as you tugged him into the first of many clothing stores. Within minutes, he had almost become your personal shopping cart, carrying all of the things that you wanted to try on. His face was gloomy and blue and you must’ve looked a right sight. A tall and handsome man with the hump and a grumpy face, wrapped around the finger of a cheerful and upbeat girl as he carried all of her goods and let her do as she pleased. Quite the sight, indeed.

In the changing rooms, he became the epitome of boyfriend as he perched on the leather chair that he had picked, waiting for you to do whatever you had to do. Every few minutes or so, you’d pull back the curtains to reveal the clothes you had in and he’d grunt in response or make a blunt remark. His sour mood became old quick and you knew that you were going to have to further piss him off just to make him happier again.

So you bought the clothes that you liked and moved on to the next store, deciding to pick a few more revealing items, more form fitting and lower cut. Every time you moved on to a new store, the amount of ridiculous items began to outnumber the clothes that you’d actually wear. It wasn’t until you drew back the curtain and was standing there in a dress made of fishnet that Dracula snapped. He couldn’t believe you’d stand there in public, your body on display with just your underwear protecting your most intimate features. It accentuated your curves so well and he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else seeing you so revealed. Especially not some lowlife like the man from earlier.

He almost tore your arm off, storming past the cash register as he threw the money down, and then he ripped off his jacket, placing it around you and warning you to do the buttons up. He didn’t speak a word to you in the car.

Holy shit, you were in trouble.

~^taglist^~

@vampiregirl1797 @avalanet @bunnyreese12 @nerdonpluto @teamceleries @grifffins @hitbythunder @winterseoul @mymagicsuitcase @angeli-fucking-cat @benedictethegoddess @bloodhon3yx @nifflersravenclaw @writteninthestars288 @labelladrama @frankcastlesgrunts @angelicdestieldemon @quakerlasss @aliisa-jones @wolverinexmenn @clairedragonessbaker @cryiner @mitsukatsu @piratewhore @your-pixels-are-showing @tardisnesss @ladydovahkiin180 @catwomom @god-of-dramatic-death-scenes @th3rah @viper-queen @mephdcosplay @greghouse7 @faeprinces @kokoro-no-yami @trishaferdream @therealmoni @crazytxgradstudent @sansthelonelypunster @crowley-needs-a-hug @girlonfireice @wasntpriscilla @ivanna6026

[peterthepark]

Honey & Velvet

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Your first time with him is heaven. His lips leave honey-flavored kisses and his touch carves velvet imprints.

Warnings: SMUT, cursing, fluff

His lips taste of honey; they are sweet and savory, difficult to forget but easy to recognize. His hands feel like soft velvet against your skin; his fingers hold a feathery-touch, gliding like angels against your jaw. His thumb slides under your chin, noses bumping into each other as he leans in again.

No one could have ever tasted like this.

Steve has you sat atop your vanity, your back resting against the mirror. His arms are hooked behind your knees, his bottom half pressed up against yours. He lets out a moan as you scratch at his scalp, tugging at his hair before you grip onto his shoulder. Your nails scrape gently at his bare back, pulling him closer to you. You feel his arms flex beneath you, and you yelp as he lifts you up.

“Steve!” You giggle, gasping as all the objects placed neatly on your vanity topple to the floor. He looks down at the mess before shushing you with a kiss as he lowers you down onto the bed.

“Are you sure about this, my love?” He searches your eyes for any uncertainty, hair tickling your face. You can only look at him, caressing his cheek with nothing but love. “Steve Harrington awaits a response from the beautiful princess. Is she alive? Can she hear me? We will never know. But Steve is getting painfully h-“

“Oh, shut up!” You tickle his side. “Yes! The answer is yes.” You say between heavy pants, biting your lip as you sit back on your elbows.

Steve grins softly, letting out a chuckle. “And there we have it. It’s a yes.”

You repeat the word, squirming impatiently. You feel yourself melting. Blushing as he steps back from the bed, your gaze travels over the expense of his neck - covered in hickies. Your hickies. You clench your thighs together as you see his big, toned arms ripple under the orange glow of your bedroom. Then your eyes land on the even bigger bulge in his jeans. Steve winks at you, and you grin wider. He’s fumbling with the buckle of his jeans as you move to take off your shirt, flinging it at him with a teasing look.

But Steve is suddenly having a lot of trouble with those jeans.

His hands are too jittery, too excited. Then, he becomes frustrated, cheeks flushed with pink as you come to help him. You kiss him, and Steve moans loudly as his hands pinch at the bare skin of your waist.

You find his belt buckle, lowering your knees to the carpeted floor as you slowly take it off of him. He leans back against your dresser, head thrown back as you unbutton his jeans and tug it down.

“Fuck, yeah.” He whispers under his breath. He looks down at you, eyes blown with lust. “Can I kiss you again?”

You accidentally laugh. And then Steve is suddenly laughing with you.

“Why are you laughing?!” You pull down his boxers without hesitation, catching him off guard.

“I’m about to give you head... but you want to kiss me first? What a true gentleman.”

“Oh - Jesus, Y/N.” His jaw drops as you take him, his hand coming to put your hair into a makeshift ponytail - just so he has a better view of his beautiful girl. “Wow. Okay. Damn. Y/N, I’m literally - I love this and I love you and all but-“

You stop, pulling away with eyebrows drawn into a line of concern. “Are you okay? Did I do something?”

“No! No. Angel, I was gonna - you know - it was really-“

“Oh!” You realize, blushing profusely. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve finished you off, Steve.” You chuckle casually as Steve lifts you up. You rub at your knees, ignoring the intense pulse between your legs.

“I don’t wanna ruin our first time together.” He kisses you again, smiling against your lips. “Besides, I don’t want you thinking I’m lame.”

“Okay, well. I already think you’re lame, but... maybe you can change my mind after all this.”

Steve immediately has you back on the bed. There’s soft music in the background as he crawls over to you. He lays in between your legs, his face hovering over yours.

Nothing has really happened, yet the both of you look like absolute wrecks: his and your lips are swollen, Steve’s hair sticks up in different directions, while yours are in tangles.

“You are so gorgeous.” Steve says, attacking your collarbones with kisses. His hands reach behind your back, thumbing the hooks of your bra. “Can’t wait to show you.” You let out a strangled gasp as Steve easily unclasps your bra. He laughs at himself as he places it over his eyes. “Hey, look at me. I’m a mosquito. Buzz. Buzz.”

“Steve. Oh, my god. Stop!” You push him softly, letting out an amused huff at him as your mouth hangs open in shock.

He raises his eyebrows at you, a mischievous expression written on his features. You gasp louder as Steve puts the bra over your eyes, blocking you from seeing anything.

“You’re a mosquito, too. We can be mosquitoes together.” He blows a raspberry into your stomach. You exchange vivacious laughter, your knees coming to your chest in an effort to stop Steve from blowing more raspberries. “Maybe we can make some mosquito babies now.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“No babies! Babe!” You groan lightly at him, peeling the bra off of your face. You throw it off the bed. “No more mosquitos either!”

“Okay, okay. Fine.” He rolls his eyes at you, before letting out a hum. “Can I take these off?” He asks as he plays with the hem of your shorts. You nod, helping him get them off.

You wag a finger at his face. “Don’t laugh.”

“Is this My Little Pony?”

“Steve. Don’t ask any questions-“

“You’re wearing My Little Pony panties.” He narrows his eyes at the material, poking at the design of various ponies. “Why?”

“I didn’t have anything else! I haven’t done laundry!”

“You could’ve gone commando, at least. I don’t want - who is this? Is this Applejack?” You cry out in embarrassment again, deciding to pull down your underwear to get it over with. “Sorry! Sorry! I just...” Steve lowers his voice to a whisper. “I just don’t want Applejack watching us!”

“Steve, this is getting weird!”

“You’re dating a weirdo! And you’re a weirdo, too!”

“Fine. We’re even now.” You stick your tongue out at him, and he playfully nips at your inner thighs as he moves farther down the bed.

You feel warmth pool inside your stomach, the fuzzy feeling returns - stronger than before. You quickly reach into the drawer of your nightstand, fishing out a condom from the bottom of all your things. You toss it to Steve, who catches it cockily. He tears it open with his teeth, tossing the wrapper onto the floor.

You give him a curt nod when he looks over to you for approval. “You ready?”

“Mhm.”

“Let me know if you wanna stop.” He whispers in your ear, propping his elbow up beside your face. “And Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You place a hand over his heart, legs wrapped around his hips.

“Don’t be afraid to tell me how good it feels.”

You moan Steve’s name loudly as he pushes himself into you - slowly and carefully. He doesn’t want to hurt you, and although it isn’t your first time having sex, it’s your first time with him. And he wants to make you feel good in every way possible. He bottoms out, and you arch your back into him.

Steve drags his lips between your breasts, settling underneath your chin. “Okay?” His breath fans out over your skin, and you shiver out of excitement.

“Yeah. More than okay.” Steve’s jaw hangs open lazily, his eyes never leaving yours. Your hand rests above your head, while the other grasps onto his arm. You start to get impatient, body drawing out moans. “Faster. Please.”

Steve moans. He leans over you, hands gripping your waist as he snaps his hips at a faster pace. “Holy... shit.” His face is contorted with pleasure as he feels you clench and unclench around him. “God, so tight. You’re perfect.” His hair falls into his face but he flips it back into place as he looks to the ceiling. “Y/N...”

“Steve! Fuck. You’re so good.” You sit up, redirecting your stare. “This is everything. Oh, my-“ He picks up the pace, knowing exactly what he’s doing to you. There’s a coil in your stomach that begins to tighten, waiting to snap at any moment.

“Tell me, baby. I wanna hear it.”

“I’m gonna... yeah, I’m almost there.” You nod furiously at him.

You call out his name repeatedly, almost like a chant as he brings you closer and closer to your edge.

You didn’t think it was possible, but Steve moves even faster, to the point that the bed is creaking noisily and the headboard is making small dents in the wall. You pull his hair, bringing him close to your body.

Steve cries out your name, moaning into your breasts then against your ear.

It’s fucking hot.

“Fuck, I just came.” He stops for a second with a boyish grin, but he instantly picks back up where he left off. The soft smile fades, and the serious Steve from earlier reappears.

“You’re doing so good, love. I’m there. I’m right there.” You’re shaking your head at him, falling back to lay on the bed.

He’s touching you in all the right places, hitting that sweet spot repeatedly.

“I love you.”

The coil snaps.

Then Steve is cumming again when you clench down and around him.

Exhausted, he collapses beside you. Heavy panting fills the hot air, masking the music from the stereo in the corner.

“Holy fuck.” He breathes out, coaxing you as you calm down from your high. His skin sticks to yours as you place your head on his bare chest, hair fallling in messy curls around your face.

“Yeah. Holy fuck.” You chuckle, rubbing your legs together.

“That was...”

“Yup.” You giggle, awestuck. “Steve?” You swallow, “I love you, too.”

He kisses the top of your head. “I know. By the way, do you still think I’m lame?”

“Not really.” You bite your lip, sighing as Steve entangled his legs with yours. “Well, maybe kinda.”

“What?! No! That was - I was good!”

“And you were!” You agree, drawing shapes on his skin. “It was that stupid mosquito joke.”

“You’re actually kidding.” He sits up, looking at you with eyes full of love as you roll to the end of the bed. Your cheeks rests on your hand as you stare at him with a questioning gaze.

“Don’t say it.”

“My Little Pony! I still can’t believe it!” Steve doubles over in laughter before he stands up, collecting all the littered clothes. He slips on his underwear, but trips over himself as he’s sent into another laughing fit. “I am so funny! Wow!”

And you roll your eyes at him. He’s having trouble getting up, collapsing back onto the carpet with another hard laugh.

But your features soften as you lick your lips, tasting honey once again. And you smile as Steve finally stands, and his hand caresses your thigh, where you find yourself missing his velvet touch.

Who knew honey and velvet would be such an extraordinary combination?

[theotheroccassionalfanficwriter]

Mammon's Prayer

Summary: A short story about the comical and blasphemous interaction between God and his son Mammon's girlfriend.

A/N: It's a roman catholic thing to be a little bit critical about God and maybe commit little day to day blasphemy against God and the Roman Catholic Church.

Tags: Casual Blasphemy, Prayers, Begrudgingly in Love, You is a thot for Mammon, we is a slut for Mammon, Mammon and Mammorons share two braincells and we get it all the time, Roman Catholics Pray to Ask for Blessings, We pray to God to complain about our love life with Mammon, 5+1 Fic, Hurt and Comfort, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, God is the Deus Ex Machina

-

1.

"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit...

Our Father who art in Heaven, Hallowed be thy name...

Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us for our sins and trespasses. And those who trespass against us.

Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from Evil...

I don't know if you can hear me all the way here from Hell and I know I haven't prayed to you for a long time since my Confirmation or the fact that I only go to Church during important Holidays or the fact that I never fasted or stop eating meat on good friday... But I've done my best to be a good and morally upright human being even so...

That's why I hope you don't mind if I complain to you about your son a little bit, I don't mean Jesus...I'm cool with him. It's Mammon I'm here for..." You sigh deeply before taking a long sip from the glass of water you brought with you.

It was almost empty.

"What kind of shitty parenting did you do? Huh? Are you proud of your parental skills? Your idiot son keeps on sending me mixed signals! I can't fucking tell what he wants! Do you know how hard it is for me to communicate? You fucking nerfed me with social anxiety that it made me look like a functional human being! He's lucky he's cute or I'd have punch him in the face for being annoying...

Amen."

From Their throne in Heaven, God sat alone and mulled in silence. The two Cherubim who were on shift to accompany God blinked at what they had just heard.

'What kind of prayer is that!?!' They both thought.

Finally, after a long time had passed, God spoke "Do humans pray like this nowadays?"

No one answered Them.

2.

"In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit...

Lucifer's Daddy who art in Heaven, Hallowed be thy name...thy Kingdom come, thy Will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven...

Give me this day my daily bread and forgive Lucifer for his trespasses and Mammon who trespassed.

Lead me not into Asmodeus, and Mammon on the Volume 6969 Cover of Majolish but deliver me from Evil...

Amen...

Okay I know that's not how the prayer goes but I've had a long week and your son Mammon has no consideration for me, his magicless Master that bought 3 copies of Majolish that had him for a cover.

I mean I'm not asking for much you know? I just want him to stop sending me mixed signals! The Piles of Little D of Greeds keep telling me he has a crush on me but he goes and act like he doesn't! And then he went and told me to answer his call before he even called!!

Did you purposely make an idiot? A dense fucker? A fucking adorable tsundere??

Why doesn't he just admit that he wanted me to call him from time to time??? I wouldn't have laughed at him y'know!!! Why is voice so nice over the phone!?!!

If he keeps this up either I'll date him or someone else!!!"

You did a sign of the cross and drank two cups of water before going to bed.

"...Chamahel was perfectly fine as a child! The war changed him!

Hmph! impudent human! All my children are perfectly fine as they are!" God fumed and thought of a way to punish the human that dared to say Their children weren't perfect.

Michael talked Them out of it but God still grumbled about it from time to time.

3.

"You already know what this is about...I know I look stupid saying my prayers aloud here in Hell but I like to pretend you can hear me...I...I know that you didn't like how some of your angels wanted to bang humans but... Would the same thing apply to Demons?

They're both cut from the same cloth afterall...and it's not like I want to do it with Demons but...if...this is just an if! A very big IF, a hypothetical scenario!!

I... I want to know if a demon-human relationship would get into trouble from both Heaven and Devildom...I don't know if I have the right but I'm asking it anyways...even if no one might be listening from up there...

Can you give me a sign, God? That if being in love with a demon isn't sin?

Thank you for putting up with me...goodnight God."

"...maybe this could be the exception..."

The next day Michael had to teach God how to use Akuzon Delivery to send a bouquet of White Poppies to the House of Lamentation.

4.

"There isn't a lot of things I'm thankful for...to be honest I hated you a little bit for letting some of us to do evil things in your name...you could turn an entire town into salt for being rude and inhospitable before but now you can't even slap divine retribution to the bastards that pollute your Church...even so thank you for Mammon...

And the other brothers too but mostly thank you for creating Mammon...He isn't an out and out evil you know? He...he's disgustingly human like with his ways... He cries over fictional characters and looks after me above and beyond what he has to do...

He's an idiot that doesn't know how to ask for help properly but...I think that's because of his circumstances...I really love him...I don't know if you're actually the one who sent those white poppies but...I'm taking it as a sign that everything's going to be alright...

I want to be with Mammon...even if this could only last for a year or even if one day he stops loving me...

I don't really understand love and things like emotion but...for Mammon...I want to. I want to make him happy! I don't want him to feel sad or pretend to be fine...I know it's impossible but even if it's a little bit...I want to do it!

For Mammon, That's why if possible...can I ask your help from time to time? You don't have to do anything God...just please hear my prayers out for him?

Thank you...and Goodnight."

"Oh they're dating now! My, my...that son of mine didn't really changed at his core huh? Still so shy with affection and a coward..." God idly mused, "but...he's willing to change...all for this human..."

God then briefly wondered if unlike his love for humans...his children's love never faded.

5.

"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit..." You paused for a long while thinking about the events that transpired...the you that died and the Mammon you've left behind.

"O' God...I am heartily sorry for having offended you," You thought of all the prayers you've sent...blasphemous in nature and irreverent...you smile bitterly " and I detest all my sins because I dread the loss of Heaven and the pains of Hell"

'Even if I'm already here'

"But most of all I offended you my God, who are all good and deserving of my love..." You closed your eyes and for the first time in a long while prayed with all of your heart and soul, "I firmly resolve with the help of your Grace, to confess my sins, to do penance and to amend my life. Amen."

'Please let them be happy...the ones I left behind...let them move on from the hurt and heal together...I'm sorry that I ended up hurting them again.'

For the first time in a long while...God made a miracle.

+ 1

"I take you,Mammon, to be my lovely wedded husband—to have and to hold—from this day forward" You looked at your openly crying husband, "for better and for worse,for richer and for poorer..."

You gently wiped his tears away," in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish—till death do not us part. According to your Father's Holy Law," The whole place erupts in gentle laughter "This I solemnly vow."

You slid the ring into his finger, gently and slowly as if he was fragile glass. You turned to look up to him and smile. Heart breakingly happy at being by his side again.

God spoke at the reception, a familiar glint in Their eye that made Michael sigh and Lucifer wary.

"In all years of my life I've never met a human so bold and courageous to complain straight at my face and commit blasphemy at almost every conversation we had. But I've also never met someone willing to pray for Demons and even come to love one so much with their entirety...in every version of you I saw this remained and I know it isn't because of your lineage but simply because of you who are."

You sat up straight wondering where this was going.

"Human life is fleeting...a mere blink in the eye for us who lived long but in there is beauty in that brief moment. Keep on living as you are, love the beauty that is timeless and ephemeral! And when the time comes the Kingdom of Heaven welcomes you!"

They raised a glass to you and said, "Yours is a love built to last, willing to sacrifice and endure, you have my blessing."

They turned to Mammon and smiled. A smile that reminded you of Mammon's and you turned to your husband and held his hand tighter. Everything would turn out fine.

[impala-dreamer]

Smooth

SPN FanFic

~Hiatus is over and the beard must go, however, not without some complaints from you...~

Jensen x Reader

1,808 Words

Warnings: NSFW right off the bat! Two lucky smuts in one! Bearded!Jensen. Smooth!Jensen. Sexy!Jensen. Oral Sex! Comedy! Fluff! Awesome!

A/N: This is for my "Face Riding" square for @spnkinkbingo​ 19! Do hope you enjoy :)

2019 Kink Bingo Masterlist ~ Feedback is Gold ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon

“Fuck...oh...fuck, Jen...yes!”

He kept going; juicy lips sucking on your clit, thick fingers pumping, fucking you through your orgasm.

An unexpected flail sent your hand smacking down upon his head and he grunted into your pussy as your fingers tangled in his hair.

“Ouch!” Jensen laughed as he sat back, beard and lips coated in your slick.

“Sorry!” you said with a cringe, thighs clenching together as your cunt continued to throb.

“It’s OK, babe. You just got excited.” Jensen winked and ran a hand down his face, wiping away some of your wetness and scratching at his jaw. “I think I’m gonna go get rid of this now,” he said offhandedly.

Still panting, you rolled onto your side and pulled up the blanket to cover your hips. “Rid of what?”

“The beard,” he replied, hopping up out of bed.

The mattress bounced with his departure and you sat up on an elbow, distraught. “No! Not yet! You aren’t going back to work for another three days!”

Jensen ignored you and flipped on the bathroom light.

“Jensen! We had a deal! I get the beard during hiatus and technically, hiatus is not over yet! Seventy-two hours, mister! Seventy-two!”

The faucet turned on, drowning out your complaints.

“Ya know...I wait all year for that beard and it takes a full two weeks to grow in...I just think that I should be allowed to enjoy it for the entire length of our pre-negotiated time.” You sat up and leaned over, trying to catch a glimpse of your husband in the ensuite, but all you saw was harsh yellow light. “I’m still owed time, Mr. Ackles. I want that beard. Once you go back to work, it’s all smooth cheeks and scruff. Not fair.”

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you full on pouted waiting for him to be done. There was no use complaining about it now, you could smell the shaving cream, hear him rinsing out the razor in the basin. It was too late. The beard...was gone.

A flash of white teeth and bright green eyes greeted you before long as Jensen swung out of the bathroom, one hand on the doorframe, ankles crossed. It would have been sexy as hell if you weren’t so upset over the recent death. Jensen Ackles was gone and Dean Winchester was in the building.

“Hey, baby,” he grinned, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“Go away,” you growled, turning your nose up at him as he came close.

Jensen bent over and set his hands on the foot of the bed, still all smiles, laughing at your childishness. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad! Feel…” He reached for your foot, but you kicked him away, narrowly missing his junk in the process.

“No!”

“But it’s so smooth…” He ran his own hand down his cheek and back up, eyes closing in dramatic awe as he felt the velvety skin. “I think you’re gonna like it.”

You scoffed and rolled away onto your stomach, grabbing your phone from the nightstand, determined to ignore him. “I think I won’t.”

“You didn’t even look,” he said with a pout, attempting to tug at your heartstrings.

The strings, unfortunately for him, were firmly attached to his beard. “I miss the beard. You didn’t have to shave it already. Why’d you do that?”

He sighed and gave a little shrug. “I don’t know, it was itchy and it was going soon anyway.” Biting his lip, Jensen put one knee on the bed. “Come on, Y/N/N…” The other knee followed. “It’s not that bad. It’s nice and smooth…” Hand after hand, knee after knee, he began to crawl to you. “So soft. I smell good, too. I used that soap you like…”

“Go away.”

Jensen nudged at your hip with his newly bare chin. “Y/N…” He sang your name, but you paid him no mind, eyes glued to your phone.

“I said go away.”

“Y/N…” He tugged at the blanket, yanking it from your side.

“No.”

You went to grab the blanket, but Jensen grabbed you instead, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and rolling you onto your back.

“Gotcha!”

You squirmed beneath him, screwing your eyes shut. “Lemme go!” You swatted with your free hand, but Jensen caught that wrist as well, pushing both down onto the bed by your ears.

“Awe, baby, I love you all squirmy like this,” he cooed, trying to keep his face calm and sexy whilst struggling to hold you down. He dipped his lips to yours but you turned at the last second, forcing the kiss to land, loud and wet, by your ear.

“Gah! Get off!”

Jensen licked his lips and planted another wet one on your temple which only made you cringe and fight back a laugh. He knew how to get you going in every direction.

“Don’t make me punch you!” you threatened through clenched teeth.

“How?” Jensen laughed, his entire body moving with it, head and shoulders rocking, hands loosening just enough so you could wiggle away. In a flash, you got the upper hand, using his distraction to flip him over onto his back. He sucked his lip as you pinned him, straddling his hips and pushing his wrists down, broad shoulders spreading his arms, and yours, wide.

"Not so tough now, are ya, Ackles?"

He grinned up at you, quite content to be your captive for a moment. You bent your lips to his and took a taste, breathing in the familiar scent of his shaving cream.

"You do smell nice," you admitted, ghosting your lips across his bare cheek, nipping playfully at his jaw.

Jensen moaned happily and turned his head for your inspection, sucking in a hard breath as your licked his throat. "Fuck."

You kissed the thick line of muscle in his neck and bit down on his ear, loving the way his hips jerked against you. "Oh, hello…" You shifted onto your knees and hovered over his stiffening cock, rubbing yourself slowly. "Feels so nice."

Jensen lifted his head and twisted his right hand, wanting to break free and grab you, but you kissed him back down onto the mattress, still rolling your hips.

"Making me so wet," you whispered, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, looking for the best place to sink your teeth.

"I...I can feel it," he breathed; his entire body tensing, hard and ready beneath you.

You sank down just an inch, forcing the tip of his cock through your slick folds. "You like this, don't you? Me on top, holding you down?"

A groan caught in Jensen's throat and his eyes rolled shut, head pushing back against the mattress. "Ride me…" he begged, voice cracking as you dripped onto his cock.

After a slow roll of your hips, you loosened your grip on his wrists and sat up, ready to go. "OK, baby."

You sank down an inch more but Jensen stopped you, fingers digging into your hips, holding you up. “No,” he growled, “want you to ride my face.”

Every muscle in your body froze and then twitched with excitement. You could feel the flood rushing from your cunt, your lips closing tighter around the tip of his cock. Jensen hissed, blunt nails denting your flesh, stomach tightening, heart racing.

Jensen grunted and bucked his hips, driving his dick deep inside. “Need that pussy,” he grit. “Want you to cum on my tongue.”

He slapped your ass and you lifted up, a little whimper filling the room as his cock dragged against you. As much as you wanted to stay, fuck yourself down on his beautiful cock, you knew what magic he could produce with a mere flick of his tongue.

"Want you," he moaned again, "now."

Holding your breath, you climbed over him and hovered above his face. One last look down showed his emerald eyes locked to your pussy; lips wet and ruddy, tongue pushing out over his bottom teeth. He lifted his chin and rubbed his nose against your clit, making your shiver and hum happily.

"Hold on, baby," you teased. You reached for the headboard to help you balance, not wanting to suffocate him with your cunt, but Jensen had other ideas.

As your fingertips grazed the headboard, Jensen pushed his arms under your thighs and wrapped his hands around your front, pulling you straight down onto his face. You gasped as his hot tongue pushed right in; the tip of his nose bumping your clit, juicy lips pulsing against your cunt.

"Fuck, Jen…"

He mumbled something into you which only set off a shiver as his lips vibrated. You rocked forward, arching your back, and he hummed even louder.

"Jesus, fuck!"

At last, you managed to grab the headboard and use it to lift up enough to really get moving. Jensen sucked in a loud breath as you departed and licked a long stripe up you pussy, gathering up all your juices and drinking them down greedily.

You let him do what he did best, winding you up so tight that your mind began to slip. In that slip you closed your eyes, finding a gentle rhythm to rock to, like a ship bobbing on a rough sea, except the sea wasn’t so rough. The sea was smooth and soft, like the nicest fleece blanket. It was firm yet gave when you landed, it slid like velvet over your flesh. It was heaven.

Jensen devoured your pussy, lips and tongue and fingers working until you were right at the edge.

“Oh god,” you groaned, grinding down on his face hard, feeling the moment approach. “Gonna make me cum, fuck!”

The warning only inspired him and Jensen sucked harder, fucked deeper, growling in ecstasy as you came like a waterfall all over his freshly shaved face.

When you could think straight, you pulled away, falling down against the headboard and squeezing your legs shut; the shivers of orgasm still echoing in your bones. “Holy shit, babe…”

Jensen rolled onto his stomach and propped his chin on his left hand. “I know…” He grinned proudly, face shining and wet.

“No but… like…” Words failed you, but he got the point, watching as you body twitched with aftershock and your eyes fluttered.

“I know,” he said again, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “So, you still miss the beard?”

Laughing, you rolled your eyes and conceded. “No. I guess not. You’re so smooth.”

“Hell yeah,” Jensen agreed, beaming like a fool and pushing himself up on both hands. “I’m always smooth. Smooth as hell, baby.” He winked and did two pushups just to impress you before jumping up and tumbling off the end of the bed.

“Yeah,” you laughed, watching him slapstick his way back up to you. “So smooth…”

2019 Forever Tags:

@akshi8278​ @amanda-teaches​ @arses21434​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @because-imma-lady-assface​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​ @colagirl5​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @cosmicfire72​ @courtney-elizabeth-winchester​ @covered-byroses​ @crashdevlin​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @deansenwackles​ @deansgirl215​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​​   @dolphincliffs​ @dubuforeveralone​ @emilyshurley​ @emoryhemsworth​ @ericaprice2008​ @eternal-elir​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @flamencodiva​ @focusonspn​ @gayspacenerd​ @hella-aj-the-trickers-son @herbologystudent252​ @hobby27​ @ilsawasanacrobat​ @justcallmeasmodeus​​ @katymacsupernatural​ @lastactiontricia​ @maddiepants​ @mariekoukie6661​ @meganwinchester1999​ @missjenniferb​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @mysticmaxie​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @our-jensen-ackles-love​ @peridot-rose @pisces-cutie​ @risingphoenix761​ @roonyxx​ @roxyspearing​ @sandlee44​ @shadowkat-83​ @spnbaby-67​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @spnficgirl​ @supernaturaldean67​ @supernatural-took-me-over​ @thehardcoveraddict​ @tmiships4life​ @wegoddessofhell​ @winchesterprincessbride​

[sugar-petals]

:: BTS Sucking Your Fingers 

○ warnings ⚠️ food & breath play, femdom!reader, spit play 

♡ playlist | here for my habits - ängie // heyahe (해야해 ) - one // pour up - dean 

↳ 🌷 NOTE › yep. here we are. getting the succ. needless to say: bts’ lips are so damn beautiful. 10/10 would recommend👌

♡ jimin ➝ All it takes is a suggestion from you. He says, “Sounds fun!” And fun it will be. Cheery Jimin turns into a dutiful baby darling who’s ever eager to exercise his lips all over you. Yes, at the flick of a switch. This boy can give you all you want, for how long you want. And how often you want. That includes having a go at your hands. He already knows his favorite thing to do. Sucking at your thumbs. Oh my god. Once he’s getting started? Jimin couldn’t stop even if the mighty heavens collided and came tumbling down. 

Apocalypse has nothing on him. His head goes in small bops, he’s blowing spit bubbles, his cheeks go hollow. Talk about smooth suction, I mean, seduction. His mouth is nothing short of hypnotizing. Knowing him, Jimin would also thoroughly enjoy someone else joining. Either watching the show or with your fingers down their throat themselves. I guarantee that’s one hell of an eye- and eargasm with two subs getting busy on both of your hands. 

♡ taehyung ➝ Truth be told. Tae is a natural and you don’t even know it yet. But once you instruct him just right, kiss him on the nose, pamper him with little compliments? His innocence will fade soon enough and the champ in him emerges. Oh honey. He’s amazing. Now, this comes with a warning for some serious sensual overload. Because he won’t just suck your fingers. He’ll suck his own hand, too. Unashamed and thorough with big starry eyes. 

Two fingers of yours in the left corner of his mouth, and his own index in the other. Thrusting it in and out like it’s no one’s business. And yes, we know his mouth has enough space for that lewd stuff. I’m telling you. There are hundreds, thousands, gazillions of people queueing to get a dose of Tae’s fingers in action, but you are the select one to see this. That’s a feat to treasure. And something more than guaranteed to be a turn-on. It’ll haunt you. If that’s not a sign from above to do it again, I don’t know. 

♡ jin ➝ That’s not sucking. That’s fucking. Raw and passionate altogether. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. How the story begins: Foodie number one and foodie number two just can’t keep their hands off some freshly baked choco cupcakes. The thing is: They’re filled with warm liquid nougat. Eating them gets messy enough that Jin slips right into a sticky-savory situation with an offer he cannot refuse from you. It’s like an itch begging to be scratched. You have chocolate all over your hands. What is he going to do? A cartwheel?

You invite Jin to wrap and exercise those puffy lip pillows plenty around your palms and thumbs. But it’s not like you want it to end when he cleaned it all up. And neither does Jin think the party should be over so soon. Why not introduce some more food, then? From the fridge comes a pack of leftover frosting that didn’t quite make it onto the cupcakes. Legend has it that Jin, stellar he is, ate it all off your fingers and said thank you. The rest is history. 

♡ yoongi ➝ You got some long sharp nails? Good. Yoongi is that guy. Whatever Transylvanian fantasy he has going on, he wants to get stabbed. You say, Suga bun, my horny little rascal. You gotta be careful. One finger at a time, and nothing pointy for that matter. We don’t want an ouch factor in there. But alas, reckless kitty keeps on gazing at your hands during the day like it’s the holy grail. So you decide to teach the provocateur a lesson. 

At the next occasion in the bedroom, you order him to kneel and keep his lips shut. You trail your fingers around them. The anticipation is palpable in his eyes. But you don’t give in. The denial frustrates Yoongi with pant-bulging consequences. You do allow him to stroke away. While he does, you signal him to open his jaw a little. He smiles because he finally convinced you. Or thinks he did. You return the smile, bend down— and snake your tongue into his mouth for a deep kiss. Well, well. No stabbings in this area tonight. 

♡ hoseok ➝ Master of choking himself. No prisoners taken with Jung Hoseok. If you want a lot of action and feel something very sloppy going on around your fingers, this is your man. You’ll look into his glossy eyes and think: Where the hell is that grit coming from. Just how much can he take. Did he make a deal with the fucking devil. But no worries. You can recline without a sorrow in the world, he’s going to do all the work and provide you with unreal gagging noises that even a seasoned porn flick editor would raise their brows at. 

It’s all so melodic. There’s no other way but to treat him to a double whammy in return. You feel up his neck and press hard. Sensing what his muscles do to accommodate what your other hand does. You can tell this is going to be nuts. I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to escape that image in your mind and not want more. You’ll definitely text him later. hey hobster. enjoying the weekend? we need to do more sexy things for the time being.

♡ namjoon ➝ It goes on alternating for what feels like half an hour. First, it’s your turn to lick his fingers one by one. Not leaving out even an inch. You couldn’t, even if you tried. Whatever handwash he’s currently using, it smells nice. Maybe chamomile? Probably something like that. Since they’re big hands, you take your time and tease him plenty. Namjoon can’t help but whine throughout. He can’t even look, that would bait him way too fast. Either way; once you’re done teasing, sweet Jesus, it’s Joon’s turn.

One thing’s for sure. It’s a rapper tongue working to the best of its artistic abilities around your fingertips. Featuring one hell of a gag reflex. But Namjoon is no fool. He knows how to use it. Your man is... educated. And very aware that you love the sound of him coughing up ever so slightly, deep voice he has. Your fingers will have their fun circling around his tongue to say hi. By the time you’re satisfied with it, the poor man is gonna be a drooling mess.  

♡ jungkook ➝ Finger sucking... is just the very start of things. Your hands will visit some other juicy places during the course of a steamy afternoon. But before they travel, you have some plans about what they’re up to inside of his mouth. That is: Twisting and turning. Slicking in and out. With your favorite latex gloves on. Can’t go without those. Jungkook’s wild and surprisingly nervous tongue is doing its intricate dance for minutes and minutes. He doesn’t tire. All he does is get even more keen, greedy to please. 

Maybe his inhibitions drop, maybe your praise fuels him. Or he just keeps getting hornier. Fact is, Jungkook will get the hang of it. At the expense of his clothes because he gets saliva all over himself. But that’s another debate. When you’re drenched up to the wrist, you pull back and have JK look at the chaos he made. You’ll be honest with him there. “Get a feeling you’re insatiable, aren’t you, Kook.” It’s not like he doesn’t know already. Cheeky boy. 

thank you for reading 🌷 © submissive-bangtan 2017-2019. All rights reserved. Do not repost.

[noocturnalchild]

SEALED IN MARBLE  Chapter VI Temptation for Dinner

Hot breath on his face, pretty curls caressing his cheeks, heavy lidded eyes burning holes in his soul, as her hips initiated a slow dance on his groin. He inhaled sharply, and his hands traveled to meet them, revelling in the feeling of satin soft sheets, seeking her flesh through the drapery. The touch felt deliciously sinful in its smoothness at first, and his lids fluttered, pleasure sinking in his guts, as his fingers started to dig, kneading the nymph like flesh of her thighs, then just when he was lost in his desire, his nymph started to morph, edges tickling his finger pads, quickly growing and pointing. He opened his eyes, panic overcoming him, and he looked at her, her lips twitched in a smirk Garupe only could qualify as… evil. His frightened eyes looked lower, at the place their bodies met, and he was horrified. Scales like those of a snake had replaced the silky skin, and there were no hips anymore, just one merged shape, snake belly, capturing his hips in a deadly grip , winding around him, tighter and tighter as his breath left his chest, emptying him of life…

Garupe startled awake. Sucking in a long shaky breath, he straightened in his drenched sheets.

Holy Jesus!

He reached for his body, it was just a nightmare. A nightmare that left him sweaty and… hard.

Mary have mercy.

He closed his eyes as the first words of Ave Maria left his trembling dry lips. He couldn’t finish, ashamed and frustrated. A deep grunt echoed in the barely lit walls of his room, as he shifted uncomfortably in his bed, seeking his water carafe beside it just to find it empty. Father Garupe almost sobbed. He was painfully hard, straining in his thin night clothes, his hands fisting the scratchy sheets, resisting the soaring temptation to touch himself and alleviate the humiliating pressure. He hadn’t felt like that for years. He had domesticated his instincts and carnal desires long ago, and it was one of those accomplishments that a man of god was proud of, giving him that heady feeling to be above men, and he was, he was until he saw her pretty mouth, whispering lavishly a name that wasn’t his, her lips, smiling seduction, chewing on the wood of her tools.

Garupe whimpered, mind foggy and full of her, as his hand reached for his length.

God forgive me

It didn’t take him long to finish, eyes tightly shut, head thrown backward on his pillow, thick locks of hair sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck as his mouth parted in a silent cry of ecstasy. Images of her flashed under his eyelids, fragments of memories of her touches that diluted as he came back from his high, guilt already tugging at the back of his mind.

He cleaned himself hastily, thinking of an early morning bath, before his brothers awoke. That dinner next day, he promised himself firmly to not go, as he joined the barely comforting warmth of his mattress, mind holding on to the thin consolation this thought provided.

*

“One of my dear faithfuls is very sick, in his dying bed, your Excellence; the family has requested my presence to administer the last rites and accompany him on his last hours… Tonight.” Francisco lied through his teeth, so easy now, he lied constantly. To the bishop, to Clarissa and most unnervingly to himself, he deceived himself into thinking he wouldn’t be attending that dinner so easily, and now…

“Go then, father, go where you are most needed. Stay as long as it takes. God bless you.”

Now he had no choice. He left the Church, jumped the fence into the woods, changed into his servant clothes without thinking. He was nervous, a little terrified; what awaited him tonight? He wasn’t used to social interactions beyond those at church… he would have to lie a lot, and he decided to avoid entering conversations as much as possible.

As he knocked on your door, he could already hear loud voices and laughter coming from the dining hall, he also caught the delicious scent of a home cooked dinner, something buttery and lovely. His mouth watered even more as you opened the door, looking like the sugariest desert, he had to swallow and blink like a blinded man.

You were wrapped in the fanciest satin gown you had. Full arms exposed as a velvety deep crimson short sleeves caressed the curves of your shoulders. Delicate creamy lace covered barely your cleavage, intricate embroideries dancing on your skin, as your chest heaved. Francisco didn’t know where to look, at the soft locks of your hair, at the glow of your skin or at your cherry lips, tainted with wine.

“Vicente!” You gave him the brightest smile, and in a blast of surprised happiness you opened your bare arms and took his broad waist in a short childish embrace that left him astounded. “…Please, come in” you breathed out, now self-aware of your move, as two dazed eyes bore into yours, black, aflame.

He followed you down the hall and his stomach did those strange flips again as you lightly tugged at his hand, guiding him.

“I’m so glad you could make it”

“Thank my master, he was really understanding. I’ve found being honest and upfront with him is the best approach” He grimaced once again at his shameless dishonesty.

The dining hall was already full of patrons, five or six sitting on a round wooden table, and Francisco noticed the wine was already flowing. You introduced everyone, all different kinds of artists, all men. Dinner was served by the small rascal himself, who kept a close eye on him, sitting by his side when he was done. You sat at his other side, all bright smiles as your scent caressed his nostrils every time you moved, always closer to his chair.

*

A few hours passed, and it wasn’t going as horribly as he had feared. Sometimes he was made uncomfortable by nosy questions and he had to make up lies on the spot. The men were all friends and were too drunk and wrapped up in each other to pay him much attention, he thanked the heavens for that, the last thing he needed was to be recognized by one of the artists present. He had been introduced as a simple model after all, so they didn’t think they had all that much in common. This left him free to steal some glances at you, laugh at your snarky comments here and there, blush when you leaned into him to whisper some in his ear. Was that some kind of flirting? He knew it was. You didn’t try to hide it anymore, the wine helping, you grew bolder by the second, and he kept smiling at you like a fool.

For high heavens, Miguel was poking him with a fork under the table, threatening to press it harder.

He had had it with little children intimidating him! But, to his relief, you went to his rescue, looking sternly at the boy. Miguel could act as an adult and think and help like one, but he was a child after all, it was past his bed time and you couldn’t tolerate any resistance.

With Miguel gone, Francisco lost some of the tension he was bearing and as his shoulders relaxed, he found himself reaching for a glass of wine, mirroring your movement as he brought it to his lips. He wasn’t a drinker, he knew he couldn’t take alcohol, but god if the whole situation didn’t play with his head. Your presence near him alone was mind blowing. He felt as elated as his first day at the seminar, everything so new and exciting. He laughed with you, revealing the crooked teeth you rarely saw, as the candle lights cast orange shades on his face and raven locks.

“Miguel seemed disappointed, don’t you think, Clarissa?”

“A little God of Mischief that dear Miguel, isn’t he” You commented kindly.

With his glass of wine half empty, Francisco laughed even more. You two locked eyes. Your eyes fell to his lips, tainted red, just like yours, and you bit your own, You could kiss him right then, as your mind swam in a sweet wined fog and you were just about to act on your instinct, when one of your guests stormed in the dinning hall again.

Agostino was an Italian painter. You first met him two years ago, while in a voyage to Florence, and you both quickly fell into an easy friendship that evolved quickly to heated sex sessions. He was a good lover, for the time it lasted, then you had to return to Portugal and he stayed in Italy, and that was it, until he wrote you, a month ago, informing you that he was in your city, working in collaboration with another master painter. You took the chance to invite him and other artists, deeming the moment right, forgetting how completely barefaced he could be sometimes.

As soon as Agostino laid eyes on you and Francisco, he knew that something was simmering between the two of you. He wasn’t bothered, you and him were history, but he couldn’t just stay silent where there was obvious entertainment awaiting him.

“Oi! Oi! Oi!” He yelled in a drunk laugh, “come here and see this!“ He shouted at the other men that were in the veranda, noisily drinking and joking. They didn’t waste a second to join him, drunken laughs melting into amused “ho’s!” when they saw you just about to kiss a very embarrassed Francisco.

“Seems like our beloved- very dear artist, Clarissa, gentlemen, hear me out … here has just found her next prey … Clarissa, oh my dear, rail him, wreck him tonight, you have my benediction- in the name of the Father- He stopped, waving his hand,  he crossed himself, and Francisco’s face couldn’t get any redder, as the others exploded in uncontrolled hiccups, laughing like madmen and whistling as they yelled too;

“Get him Clarissa!”

“Ye! Just Fuck him”

You weren’t a person that was easy to unsettle, you were never a very shy person when it came to these matters; you would laugh with them and joke with them if it was any other man, but not him. You felt horribly ashamed, for that was extremely over the top embarrassing as you saw your poor “Vicente” almost trying to hide behind a curtain, cheeks on fire, lips on fire, eyes on fire, was it the wine? You still wanted to kiss him, half of you was still ignited with want, but you just decided to put a polite end to the mockery and with a faked amused laugh you waved your hands;

“Gentlemen!” You said in a high authoritative tone “It was such an honor to receive you all here, thank you for the amazing and entertaining moments you shared with me tonight, hope that my company was pleasurable, but as you know well every good thing has an end, I wish to see you very soon, as for now I wish you all a good night” You ushered them to the door. Low grumbles of discontentment and drunken whines echoed in your ears as they stumbled on the stairs, reluctant to leave. Agostino turned halfway and gave you a loud  kiss on the cheek

“Good nigh- my dear- deeeer Clarita, and …jus…wreck him, will you? for me?” he insisted, as he fell on you, drunk as he was, and tried to regain his balance but couldn’t. You tried to detangle from him, but you didn’t have to try too hard as you saw two strong hands lift the man off you, and as you looked up, you saw Francisco’s pinched brows looking angrily at the man as he effortlessly supported him. On his feet again, Agostino mumbled apologies and tried as he could to join the others. They all waved before disappearing in the frisky night air.

You let out a deep sigh and closed your eyes.

What did he think of you now? You twisted your fingers as you turned to face him. Your heart sank when you saw him put on his cape, ready to leave too, face closed and lips in a thin line.

“Vicente” you whispered, choked in your shame “I didn’t mean you…” you said soft, very soft. Why were you always so soft with him, reducing his defenses to nothing, dust in the wind?

“I should go now, Clarissa” he sighed, “You need rest, child” he bit the inside of his cheek, the nickname always slipping out, the glass of wine not helping him at all, if anything, it was making the whole thing more difficult. His senses were buzzing, a need coiled in his guts, he was barely containing it, God! No, he was unworthy, he didn’t deserve his mercy now.

“Stay” You whispered, cheeks red, oh so red, he closed his eyes, then looked away. It was late, half of the candles had melted in their candelabrums, porcelain and silver plates feebly glinting in the half-light of the hall, curtains gently swaying with the breeze. And you were standing there, his devil-angel, draped in crimson, waiting for him. He could hear his heartbeats in the anxious silence, and as he stayed mute and waited, you advanced.

“Come, I want to work a little. Please forgive me?” So soft. Why were you so soft?

He was entranced, your hand leading him to the atelier. He kept silent, warmth seeping in him, stronger than his reason, sinking his beliefs, his principles and his faith. Far was the church and the prayers and his brothers, far was his pain and his cousin’s misfortune. Far was God.

There were your hands, gently tugging on his collar, eyes pleading.

“Can I?” So soft.

He breathed out, looking down at you. Everything was confusing. He had undressed in front of you these last few sessions, and now that you wanted to do it for him, he could barely breathe. This was different, it was something else, it was not work. It was something else, barely veiled.

But he nodded his consent. And you in that fancy dress, how could you even work? But the wine… He shouldn’t have… oh your lips… he shouldn’t.

But your hands where already on the linen of his shirt, gently popping the buttons open, breath fanning his collarbones. Slowly, you worked your way down as a frown started to form on your face and your hands stilled. Why? Why were you frowning at him? Why had you stopped, just when he was giving in, just when he wanted you to just do whatever you desired with him tonight, just when he started to hope that indeed, this, this wasn’t work.

“What… Vicente?” your voice was shaking. Why?

“What is this?”

[amuseoffyre]

Fic: Inverse Omens - 1941 - London

Notes: I’m posting this one early today, because I won’t be around in the evening because I’m trying this strange thing called a social life. Also I love this chapter like burning :)

1941 - London

Distant sirens were wailing as Crowley hurried up the path towards the church. The searchlights were stabbing up at the heavy clouds and he could smell the rain in the air. He hugged the book more tightly to his chest, praying that everything would go to plan.

Why they would choose this place of all places for a meeting point seemed a bit on the nose. He knew who they were. They knew he knew. No one, they had laughed, would look for Nazis in a Church.

Crowley had smiled and laughed with them, but he had been to Germany only a few weeks ago and plenty of Nazis could be found in churches. Many of them liked to use it as an excuse and even though Aziraphale hadn’t asked – hadn’t even spoken to him since that stupid, awful day in St. James’s Park – he put a little temptation as well as a miracle of courage into a few minds to ensure there were a few less Nazis to take Her name in vain.

He paused at the door, taking a deep breath, then stepped into the building.

The place was alight with candles, warm and glowing and welcoming. It should have felt safe and sacred, but the presence of the two men – at the altar, for Heaven’s sake! – made him tighten his hands around the book he was carrying.

“Mr. Crowley.” Glozier said, smiling. “We were beginning to wonder if you would come.”

Crowley forced a smile onto his face and walked briskly down the aisle. “Well, I would hate to disappoint you now,” he said, his cheeks hurting with the effort.

Mr. Harmony rose, a hungry look in his eyes. “You have the book?”

Lord, Crowley wished he’d never agreed to it. He could have found a false copy. He could have lied. He could have done anything but stretch out his hands, holding out the tome to the man. “As requested, the Sefer Raziel HaMalakh.”

Harmony’s eyes gleamed greedily as he snatched the book from Crowley’s hands. He didn’t even flinch, but then, maybe he wasn’t a human who was meant to feel the power bound up in the tome. It was Her will, of course.

Harmony opened the gnarled and ancient covers, leafing through pages that had been copied and recopied more times than Crowley could recall. Behind his glasses, his eyes widened and he looked over at Glozier. “It’s the real thing.”

Glozier moved closer, bending to peer down at the book. “You’re certain?” Harmony muttered something in German, which made his partner grin delightedly. “Marvellous. You have done very well, Mr. Crowley.”

Crowley sighed inwardly when he heard the click of the gun being cocked. Just once, he thought sadly, it would have been nice to be wrong about people. But then, they were Nazis and there wasn’t really much more you could expect from them.

“Don’t,” he said wearily.

“Don’t?” Glozier said, amusement all over his face. “You think this is how it works, Mr. Crowley?”

The angel pinched the bridge of his nose, one hand on his hip. “Rose?”

A second gun cocked, this one behind him.

“Who–?”

Crowley lowered his hand, giving them a tired smile. “Spy, Nazis,” he introduced. “Nazis, spy.” He jerked his thumb towards the back of the church. “Now, if you don’t mind, she’s going to arrest you and I’m going to go and get a drink.”

He turned around to face Captain Montgomery, only to find her gun pointed at him and not at the two men at the altar. She gave him a crooked smile and shrugged, as if she hadn’t played him like a fiddle and walked him right into his own discorporation.

“Oh, for God’s sake!” he exclaimed, spinning around to face them. “She’s with you?”

Well, he thought bitterly as they grinned at him, you wanted to be wrong about someone didn’t you, you idiot.

“And sadly, she will also be killing you.”

“Right.” Crowley looked at the floor, blowing out a sigh. “Right. Of course. Why not? Killed by Nazis in a Church on a Sunday. Perfect. Just fantastic.” He threw his head back and stared up at the ceiling. “Bet you’re having a great laugh up there, aren’t you? Ooooh, he took the book to give to the humans again! Bet he won’t see this coming!” He threw his arms wide. “Come on! Give me a break!” His voice faltered and he dropped his arms. “Please?”

“Prayer won’t help you now, Mr. Crowley,” Glozier said, “but we do appreciate all you have done, so we will make it a quick–”

The door of the church crashing inwards interrupted him, followed by an “Oh, holy fuck! Ow!”

Crowley whipped around, startled. He knew that voice. He would recognise that voice anywhere, and there he was. Aziraphale, bouncing down the aisle like a badly-buoyed balloon, bobbing from toe to toe. “Aziraphale?”

The demon waved vaguely, every step accompanied with a fresh profanity. “Jesus, Mary, Joseph, fucking Nora, bloody buggering bastarding ow!”

God, it was good to see him, but not here. Not in a church. Not when they had guns trained on them and everything had been left so horribly wrong.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded.

Aziraphale flashed a pained grin at him. “Messing with your business arrangement!” He held up a bundle of books tied together with string. “Let this one go and I’ll give you some tasty prophecies for you to take back to your Fuhrer. Binns, Shipton, Nixon. First editions too.”

Books. Aziraphale’s books. He never let anyone near them. He rarely even let Crowley look at them, unless he wore his white gloves and promised not to break any spines. And after the years they hadn’t spoken to one another, he’d still brought them here to trade for…

Crowley’s legs trembled under him, his hand leaping to his mouth.

“Prophecies?”

The angel was close enough to feel the prickle of covetousness from Harmony, pricking away at the soft warmth that was threatening to smother him.

“Aziraphale, don’t,” he said urgently. “They’re your books. You don’t need to give them away. I’m fine.”

Aziraphale pointedly looked at the guns as he lightly bounced on the spot. “Fine. I see.” He jerked his head towards the door as Harmony snatched the bundle of books from his hand. “Go on. Bugger off. I’ll tidy up here.”

“I won’t!” Crowley shook his head. “Not this time.”

“I think,” Glozier said, his smile audible, “you misunderstand the situation, Mr. Crowley. Whatever your… ebullient friend’s intentions are, we are the ones who hold the guns. We will take your books too, since you have brought them all this way.”

Crowley saw the gleam of hellfire in Aziraphale’s eyes. “Oh no.”

The demon’s smile split his face. “Oh, don’t worry, my dear,” he said, looking beyond Crowley’s shoulder at the two Nazis. “I won’t do anything to them.” He tilted his head, staring at them, unblinking. The way he was moving lightly from foot to foot made him sway like a snake. “I rather think hubris might.”

“Enough,” Glozier said. “We are done wi–”

“Ah,” Aziraphale took slinking steps forward. “Before you get around to it, you should know that in about thirty seconds, a bomb is going to be dropped right on this building. Shoot us, if you like, but you’ll have to be damned quick if you want to get out alive.”

Glozier snorted. “Very amusing, but we know the bombs will fall on the East end tonight.”

Aziraphale flashed a serpentine grin, his fangs lengthening. “Even odds?” he said, then snapped his fingers.

Above them, something was screaming down from above.

Crowley stared at him. “Oh no, no, no, no! Aziraphale! You didn’t!”

Behind him, the Nazis swore, scrambling up and scrabbling for the books.

Aziraphale’s expression softened as he smiled at him. “Only a little one,” he said. “Although we may need a real miracle to get out of this alive, dear boy.”

“A real…” Crowley’s breath hitched and he closed his eyes, calling on every bit of his power as the bomb struck.

Sirens were wailing again, louder and closer. Somewhere nearby, a panicked child was screaming in terror, and as the dust settled, Crowley uncurled his fingers. His palms were sticky where his nails had dug in, but it had been enough and Aziraphale was standing there, face turned up to the moonlight, sighing with relief.

“Oh, that’s much better.”

Crowley shifted from one foot to the other, rubble rippling under his feet. “You didn’t– I–” His throat felt too tight and he wanted to believe it was the dust making his eyes sting. “You’re being kind to me again.”

The demon looked over at him with a small, quiet smile. “Obviously.” He dusted flecks of ash from his sleeves, then looked around forlornly. “I probably shouldn’t have brought the original books, should I?”

Crowly stared at him. “Oh! Oh, wait!” He turned on the spot, searching around in the rubble, scrambling across it gracelessly. “Ah!” He sprang up victorious, a bundle of perfectly-tied books in one hand, his own book in the other, and beamed at the demon. “The least I could do, since you came all this way for me.”

Aziraphale stared at him, looking more dazed than Crowley had ever seen him before.

Crowley hopped back over the rubble and held out the bundle, then looked down at the book in his other arm. Well, of all the people who would appreciate and take care of the book as it deserved, he could think of no one better. “Would you like this one as well?”

“This one?” Aziraphale echoed, looking down.

Crowley held out the other book to him.

The demon’s eyes widened in shock. “That’s…”

Crowley nodded. “I think you’re the best person to look after it.” He held it out. “I can’t say thank you, but…” He shrugged with a tentative smile. “Please?”

A dazzling beautiful smile lit the demon’s face and he nodded, taking both bundle and book with such reverence that Crowley knew at once he had been forgiven for the mess in the park and that he had made the right choice.

“Do…” He hesitated, then adjusted his hat. “I’ve got a car now. Would you like a lift home?”

“My dear,” Aziraphale said, his voice soft and wondering, “I would be delighted.”

(Post-notes: The book Crowley brought with him is a Medieval grimoire called The Book of Raziel. There are reasons why this is relevant :))

[romancemeyamato]

24 Hours with Negan (part 3 of 5)

Negan's right, in this hellish landscape there is no happy ending. But as the two of you begin to see the silhouette of an old house in the distance, you think to yourself 'there can be happy moments.''

The sun has nearly set already, and you grip your axe handle tightly, prepared for whatever comes next. The sides of the house are overgrown with weeds and shrubbery, making it impossible to look through the windows. Negan doesn't say a word to you, but you effortlessly fall in step behind him as you both round the house. With a swift hard kick, Negan knocks the front door open and you both take a moment to listen for walkers. When you're both sure you don't hear the growls of a mass suicide pact, you step in to begin clearing the rooms.

He looks at you and nods towards the upstairs, while you silently agree and begin moving through the lower level. The first room your in- the living room- is obviously clear. So you move on to the kitchen. It's kind of funny, before the fall of humanity, you used to think open concept living was overrated and stupid. 'A gimmick in those stupid house shows my step mother used to watch.' Open concept may look stupid, but at least it makes the walkers easier to find.

You search beneath the kitchen table for crawlers, and then the lower cabinets for any lurkers. You know enough to know that walkers could be literally hiding anywhere. You sigh in relief as the kitchen is cleared, and move on to the guest bathroom. From the guest bathroom you move to the dining room, once again checking beneath the table and behind the thick fancy curtains. You've checked every door, and there doesn't seem to be a basement so you make your way up the stairs to find Negan.

When you reach the top of the steps Negan meets you. "It's all clear up here," he says, but then he points Lucille toward a little rope hanging from the ceiling. "All except there."

'The attic,' you think, following Negan over to it. He taps Lucille against the ceiling and immediately you hear a shuffle.

"Ah, shit." Negan tightens his grip on Lucille and motions for you to pull the attic cord. Dust and debris spill down from the attic, and you gasp in horror as Negan suddenly closes his eyes.

"Fuck!" He shouts, wiping his face. Clearly something isn't right, but you can hear a quickening shuffle making it's way towards the opening. Negan's head's still turned away and it's all happening so fast.

You hear it getting closer, closer, closer- and suddenly a little gray body falls through the hole. You swing your axe handle with all your might, sending it crashing against the hall wall. Without hesitation, you bring the handle down twice in rapid succession, crushing the tiny skull. It's then that you notice that this walker was just a child before it turned- probably no older than three. You feel sick at the thought, but Negan seems absolutely tickled.

"HOLY HELL! You just hit that little son of a bitch like piñata!" He's shaking his head in disbelief, "I've never seen a walker fly across a room like that before, that shit was hilarious! You really are a savage!"

"Which room was the kids room?" You ask, ignoring his chuckles. That seems to sober him up, and he points Lucille towards the room at the end of the hall. "Thank you," you say, scooping up the tiny corpse. As you do so you hear Negan climb the attic ladder, presumably to finish clearing.

You lay the tiny body down on it's bed, and bring the covers up over it's head. You don't mind killing walkers, but the child walkers still give you giant helpings of sadness. You can't help but feel as though children should somehow be immune to it all.

You hear a gentle knock, and Negan steps in. He stays silent for a moment, watching you. But you don't know what to say. You want to tell him that babies are innocent, they don't deserve the cruel things the world has to offer, that your brother didn't deserve any of the cruelty he received. But you don't need to tell him to know what he's going to say. No happy ending. To your surprise however, Negan places one of the stuffed animals on the bed. He lets you mourn, even if it simply consists of sitting in silence. And when the last of the days sunlight finally begins to fade you both leave the room together.

In the kitchen, Negan starts a small fire in a tin pot. It doesn't do much to illuminate, especially since the moon is full and bright. But you watch him work in silence as he opens a can of shredded beef and warms it over the fire. He takes a few bites before handing you the can.

The meat isn't bad, especially if you ignore the dog face on the can. 'At least they fed their dog the good stuff,' you think. It's not like you're above eating it, and you've certainly eaten worst. You're just glad your stomach isn't twisting in hunger anymore.

You take another bite, and suddenly you feel a small chuckle bubble out of you.

"What's got you laughing over there," Negan asks, reaching for the can.

You can't help it, you're full blown laughing now. Clutching your sides, tears streaming down your cheeks- the whole nine. And you hear Negan chuckling in both amusement and confusion.

"You w're right," you manage to say between fits of laughter. "It did look like a fuckin piñata!"

Negan joins you in laughter, nearly choking on his bite of food. "Jesus Christ!" He says, wiping a hand over his face. You don't remember the last time you laughed this hard, and it feels good to just feel the pain of a good laugh. But then you feel something else too. A fluttering in your chest at the sound of Negan's laughter. It rumbles out of him and soon you feel your laugher fading as you watch him instead. Laugh lines crease the corners of his eyes and down along the sides of his brilliant smile. You know you're staring but you can't seem to look away.

"You're my kind of girl," he tells you, talking another bite. He goes to hand you the can but the look you're giving him stops him in his tracks. For a moment he just stares back at you, his tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip. He quirks an eyebrow. The longer you stare the more it feels like your insides are heating up. You don't really know what you want to do, but the urge to do something is eating you up.

"Negan-" you start to say, but you're instantly distracted by the most beautiful sound.

*DRIP*

You both turn towards to the sink, where a single drop of water has escaped from the faucet.

"Oh shit," Negan watches in awe as he turns on the tap and a stream of water comes gushing out. Its brown murky color soon turns clear.

"Well water," you say in astonishment, "Oh my God, I'm going to shower!" You feel like you could cry from excitement. You turn to run up the stairs to the master bathroom, but stop suddenly. "Do you mind if I go first?"

Negan seems surprised by the question. "Not at all, darlin," he says softly.

You smile joyfully and run up the stairs, already halfway undressed before you get to the bathroom. The master bathroom's got a pedestal tub and a large stand-in shower, but you don't care. You just want the grime of earlier to be washed off of you. You step into the shower and even though the water's cold and smells a bit like rust it's the best feeling in the world right now. An old bottle of shampoo is sitting in a cubby, and you pour it generously into your hair. The bottle says it's supposed to smell like vanilla milk and papaya extracts, and you don't even know what that means nor do you care because you could be in heaven for as good as you feel.

From the filtered moon light coming through the large window, you can see the blood stained water circling the drain. You wash and scrub your entire body, under your nails, behind your neck and back, and- like your dad used to say- the pits and slits. Soon the water's running clear and you're shivering so you step out to search the closet for some clean clothes. There's not much to choose from, it seems whoever lived here before was not your size. But you find a pair of loose jeans and long sleeve tee. Over the shirt you throw on a short sleeve and pull out a jacket. You see a scarf tucked in the back of the closet and decide to pull that out too. You toss the jacket and scarf on a nearby chair, deciding you'll wear them tomorrow.

When you finally go back downstairs Negan is sitting on the couch, illuminated by his small fire in a pot, and writing in a notebook.

He looks up at you and smiles. "Saved you some peach cobbler in a can."

"Thank you," you say happily, taking the can from him. You sit on the sofa beside him, pulling your legs beneath you. As you take the first bite of sticky sweet pie in a can you can help but sigh in happiness. You rock gently back and forth, savoring each bite.

"That good, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," you tell him, scraping the spoon against the inside, trying to get every drop.

Negan just chuckles. "Good. I'm glad." He places his notebook down and reaches into his bag, "c'mere. Let me see your shoulder again."

You turn towards him, but this time when you show him your shoulder he's surprisingly gentle.

"Just some Neosporin," he tells you, pressing the sticky salve into your skin. He lets his thumb ghost over your scratches, carefully looking for any sign of infection. Then he gently presses on the skin around it. The rough pad of his thumb grazes over your collar bone and you can't help but shiver from his touch. He must notice because he shifts closer, letting his hand move up your neck. You lean into his touch, and when he leans closer you're absolutely sure he's gonna kiss you.

Instead he presses his forehead against yours. "I ain't a good man, baby doll," he warns you.

"You could be," you tell him, breathless. You know you should feel shameful saying it, but the words spill out anyways. "I'd follow you."

For some reason Negan pulls away. He seems torn, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he thinks. "(Y/n), I- I want you to find your mother. Don't get hung up on a guy like me."

He places his belongings in his bag and stands. "I'm gonna go clean up, kid. You should get some rest."

You watch him as he walks away, your heart pounding from both excitement of him being so close and the slight embarrassment of being turned down. But still, even though he's walking away, he pauses for a moment and it doesn't feel like he's telling you no. You realize as he disappears into the bathroom that what happens next is up to you.

[If you choose NOT to have sex with Negan, go to chapter 4.

If you DO choose to have sex with him, go to chapter 5.

They will be two completely different stories so if you're feeling really adventurous read both!]

[arthurmorganthings]

Heavenly Bodies

Pastor!Dutch x Sinner!femReader

Summary: “In Thessalonians chapter four, verse three, states that It is God’s will that you should be sanctified: that you should avoid sexual immorality; that each of you should learn to control your own body in a way that is holy and honorable, not in passionate lust like the pagans, who do not know God.”

Explicit content: +18

Pastor Dutch commenced his sermon with vigor upon preaching the truths of civilization. He was faithful about the idea of progressive behavior would soon come to the forefront, and you’d find deliverance—according to the word of God. You come from a sheltered family that stemmed off of biblical truths, and fables, in your eyes at least. Your mother believed in conception after marriage, and your father was strict on making Sundays the day of holy obligation.

Not to mention your father was some retired gunslinging fuck that hit the gold-mine, and ran away with some prostitute. They suddenly find God somehow, and here they were.

You seemed, indifferent to what the Bible taught. You still drank with friends in your graduating cohort, you’ve laid with men you found attractive, would that beset you for damnation? Probably.

Once mass was over, your mother rushed to Pastor Dutch, whom was outside greeting other folks, and encouraging them to redeem themselves how they know how.

“Father, Father please a moment of your time.” She begs, as Dutch smiles warmly to her.

“Mrs. Smith! It’s always good to see you. What seems to be the problem.” Your mother looks around to see who could be tuned in, God forbid someone she knows.

“It’s, it’s my daughter. S-she isn’t well and I fear she’s possessed by the devi-“

“Mother!” You grit, embarrassed at such an accusation. Father Dutch notices the exchange, offering that this be settled inside. Upon entering, he placed himself on the pews —both of you following in tandem.

“Help me, help you. You mean to tell me, that you think your daughter is possessed?” His inquiry laced with amusement as you pressed your knees together and looked down in shame.

“Yes, I do. Since she graduated school, the girl’s been spiraling out of control. Going to saloons to drink, coming home past her cewfew.” Your mother drops her voice a few octaves. “Forgive me father for what I say but, I think she’s been making a stitch with several me-“

“I can speak for myself!” You yell. “You’ve embarrassed me enough I don’t think I can look at you.”

“And you think I can at you? You’ve brought shame upon our family. How do you think I feel?to know I’ve raised a trollop!”

“Well it takes one to know one.” You spit right back in your mother’s face. Dutch’s patience grows thin.

“Okay, I understand what is going on. You see, Mrs. Smith—your daughter is just a kid, how old is she now, nineteen?”

“Twenty.”

“It’s common for adolescents to want to experience life to the fullest, however this doesn’t condon her sins.” His tone grew suggestive as he stares down at you, your core grew drenched at the idea of lusting for a man of sacred practice. Pastor Dutch was always handsome, not to mention the crowd he attracted were always women.

“I’ll take her to the confession room ma’dam if that’s alright with you.”

Your mother’s eyes brightened, “Yes! By all means, take all the time you need.”

A smirk creeps on his face, standing up so his limbs had room. “Rest assured, your daughter won’t want to cause shame to your family once I’m through with her.”

Your mother missed the innuendo, but you weren’t naive as you let on. Pastor Dutch was a man of many things, charm seemed to be an attribute he prides himself on. Your mother didn’t care, for all she knows, being fucked by a man of God would grant her daughter passage to heaven’s gates.

Dutch nods. “Very well then, follow me.”

You don’t know why your heart dropped to your stomach, the words couldn’t come out of your mouth so your legs did—trudging past religious artifacts such as the mosaic that overlooked the cathedral. Your tight-lipped frown was prominent at your mother embarrassing you so lowly in front of Dutch. So shameful that you were embarrassed to speak. So Pastor Dutch began for you.

“In Thessalonians chapter four, verse three, states that It is God’s will is that in order to be sanctified: you should avoid sexual immorality; that each of you should learn to control your own body in a way that is holy and honorable, not in passionate lust like the pagans, who do not know God.”

“I’m sure.” Sarcasm found you as you mosey on in the confession room. It was secluded for the most part, and all of the employees and alter-servers went home for the day.

You sit down, the creases of your skirt bunched up at the palms as you sit nervously, awaiting your punishment.

“You know the rules, sweetheart.’”

Oh, you definitely did. Now on your knees in front of his black trousers, he wraps his crucifix around your neck, cutting off air supply in that brief moment.

“How dare you spew blasphemy in the presence of the lord. Prying your legs open to other sinners?” Dutch spoke with such contempt as his hands found your thick locks of hair, pulling downward so you looked at his gaze.

“I’m not sure if you deserve repentance at all. God frowns upon those who are eager.”

You shiver, asphyxiating on father’s cross as you gag upon his hard length protruding the mouth. The statue Mary of Guatalupe stares at you, the virgin mother of Jesus. The idea of impurity around a pure woman wettens your core beyond relief.

“There we go darlin,’ just like that.” His breath gasps, you stare angrily as a slew of spit dare escape your lips. Your eyes watered as his tip hit the back of your esophagus savagely. He groans, simultaneously fucking your face as you gag, and choke.

Dutch withdraws his cock from your mouth, allowing you an interval of rest, the crucifix wrapped idly around your throat now, hanging like a necklace. He chuckles darkly at your appearance—lips smothered with saliva, mascara tears, and unruly tufts of hair.

You looked ravashing to Pastor Dutch, like his personal whore. “Bend over.”

The projection in his voice is enough to obey his comand, as you remove your Sunday skirt alongside your bloomers down, your slick essence–offering temptation to any man privileged enough to lay with you. A cool air and sounds of russelling filled the confession room—Then you felt it, a hard swat to the rear by application of a paddle, enough to cause abrasions as you yelp in pain.

Dutch tuts, applying another swat, sitting aimlessly on a wooden chair next to you. “Atone for the shame you cause your parents.” SWAT.

You cry out again, on the brim of tears. “Repeat after me.”

You nod, another hard swat as Dutch places your stomach over his lap. He massages each cheek softly, lessening the irritation applied by force. “Bless me Father.”

You gulp. “B-bless me Father.”

SWAT. “For I have sinned.”

You couldn’t handle the severe pain before replying silently, voice high above pitch. “For I have sinned.”

He continued his onslaught, labored breathing at how your core dropped in lust of your punishment. Flinging the paddle to across the table, it takes no time at all for Father Dutch take you in all of his glory.

It had been so long since your last confession, you’d hope this wouldn’t be the last. His tempo was hard, and rough. Pulling at the crucifix used for stations of the cross to cut off your breathing thrice more, your eyes roll back in pleasure. Pastor Dutch grunts, the firmness of his hand made its way to your cheek.

Wincing at the rough play, his lips make contact to the shell of your ear. “I’ll make sure you bask in this, no other man can fuck you like I can.”

“Yes.” You moan back, angering him. He tugs at your hair, making you look at him as he grazes your g-spot with his tip.

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, Father.”

“That’s right. I’m the only one that can grant you deliverance. The Pandora’s box to heaven’s gates.” He moans softly, his thick fingers in your mouth as you imply willingly. “I’m the only one you think of at night, when you touch yourself.”

You were so close to the precipice of getting there, your orgasm would be intense. Until Dutch removes himself, flipping you over your back. He lined at your folds again, continuing his work on getting himself to his peak.

“A-ah, Yes Father, please.” You beg underneath the cross the hung over you—contempt at your whoring. His voice grunting deeply into you.

“Please what, my darling.”

“Please, forgive me. I’m so close.” Your cries could be heard throughout the room. The pad of his thumb rubbed circles at your clit to emphasize his dominance—he could only make you feel this good, he’d been the one that always assured you’d repent, and deliver yourself from evil.

How? When evil took shape of man that spoke about the goodness in everyone? The same man that was deeply thrusting Your cervix, making you come undone—was a devil that took the shape of a deity.

“Come, come for me darling. Let God know that power of his creation.”

Dutch’s cock twitched, indicating he was at his peek. Not long after, your body convulsed, letting out a soft cry before his warm seed entered you,milking himself dry.

You laid there for a couple of minutes, watching him clean himself before neatly placing his cock back in his pants. He helps you with your bloomers and skirt—cum threatening to leak every step you walked.

Your hair back to its normal ponytail as you rejoin your mother.

She smiles at both of you before speaking, “How’d it go sweetpea?”

“Good, she is to recite the nicene creed before bed for two nights.”

You look back at Dutch as he shoots you a wink, sauntering back into the church building.

Staring into your mother’s eyes in guilt, you force a smile.

You both enter the stagecoach, returning to the bustling city of Saint Denis. With cum stained bloomers.

The whole ride home brimmed with shame, and eagerness in awaiting your next confession.

-

Nothing too long today. I was playing fc5 and this justskskfkn

This for @mollyohshea, @spacecharizard, and @songofproserpine 🌚

[ikesenhell]

The Difference

You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here.

They’d all known each other for so long that they stopped being anything other than friends, a casual reminder of the differences that wedged between them a meaningless thing. In a lot of ways, the seven of them were so close that they might as well have operated as one person. Nobunaga was the head, Hideyoshi and Masamune the arms, Mitsuhide the mouth, and he and Mitsunari the legs to support the whole thing (loathe though he was to lump himself into the same group as Mitsunari).

But she--she was the heart of it, the conscience of them, and just as often the lines that delineated her from the rest of them blurred and folded. 

Ieyasu remembered she was a girl at some point in high school. 

“Got asked to homecoming.” She shunted her backpack onto the table at lunch, rolling her eyes.

“No shit?” Masamune laughed at her. “Who the hell did that?”

“Take three guesses.”

“Let’s see.” Mitsuhide rolled his chopsticks between his fingers, a slithering grin that had long ago become his trademark creeping in over his lips. 

“No fair if you guess first,” Nobunaga cut in imperiously. “As you’re nigh on psychic.”

Hideyoshi narrowed his eyes, ever the overprotective mom friend. “Was it Shingen? It wasn’t Shingen, was it?”

“Ding ding ding.” She tapped her nose and the table burst into laughter (except for Hideyoshi, who looked utterly annoyed at the idea of someone asking out his friend, and Mitsunari, who couldn’t quite understand why exactly it was so funny). “Guess what he hit me with?”

“Let me try.” Masamune crawled on his knees around the table, generating a spatter of laughter from the surrounding benches, and clutched her hands. “My angel, did it hurt? When you fell from heaven?”

“Jesus Christ, Masa, that was almost worse.”

Ieyasu scrunched up his nose and appraised her. “Why the hell would he ask you?”

“Ass.” She shoved his bright yellow backpack off the table. “I’m not chopped liver, you know.”

“He coulda asked a real girl.”

She fixed him with eyes that could call down a lightning strike, and suddenly the conversation wasn’t so funny. “I am a real girl.”

“Ieyasu.” Masamune’s tone brooked no replies. “Maybe shut up.”

That didn’t placate her mood. Soured, she swung her bag onto her back and stalked off.

She wound up going to homecoming with Mitsunari. He sorted through the photos on social media, he and her smiling at each other and exchanging little boutonnieres, and imagined feeding each of them into a shredder.

Senior year, and they shared the same English class. She sat right in front of him.

It wasn’t so bad. He would never admit it out loud, but it was nice having someone to partner up with that he could rely on. Whenever Thursday Discussions started and they were told to pair up, they’d shunt their desks together and work as much as roast the book. This time, it was Wuthering Heights.

“This is a shit book.” He started sourly.

“I mean, yeah, fuck Heathcliffe and all that.” Her face had taken on a womanly shape almost overnight. Sometimes, Ieyasu would look at her in her hoodies and loose shirts and wonder where the hell the nine year old he used to know had gone, swallowed up instead with that long neck and those long legs. He liked looking at her--a lot--and couldn’t reconcile to himself what that meant. “But, like, you know what I do like about this?”

“Mm.”

She knew him well enough to discern a ‘continue, please’ mmm from a ‘I don’t care’ mmm, so she continued. “Letter writing.”

Ieyasu huffed. “You’re not serious. We do have phones, you know.”

“No shit. But, I dunno, I like the effort of it? It’s thoughtful. I think the way this book is written reminds me of how letters used to be written, and--look. I don’t know. I just like it, is all. Nothing really to explain about that.”

He appraised her with his clear eyes, parsing the thought through his mind, and all at once a strange urge to write her a letter overtook him. 

“You’re a fool.” Ieyasu grumbled, squashing his unspoken, unexamined feelings down. “Let’s talk about something actually relevant.”

That night he sat in front of his computer and penned letter after letter to her in his notebook, ripping them out after barely a paragraph and tossing them in his wastebasket. After about fifteen tries, he gave up and crawled into bed.

She went to prom with Nobunaga. Somehow, that made sense. Their pictures were perfect, he wearing an impeccable suit and she in a red, vibrant dress that did wonders for every curve he’d never known she had. They spent the afterparty at Hideyoshi’s house, splashing in the pool under the moonlight and taking drinks, and Ieyasu soon discovered there wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to squelch the weird things his stomach did at seeing her in a bikini.

They all wound up at the same university. It made sense. Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, and Mitsuhide were all headed into business. Masamune didn’t bother with college, but he was just down the street doing a culinary internship, so he may as well have. Mitsunari was in poli-sci, heading into law, and he--well, he aimed for a chemistry degree and desperately hoped to prove himself as a medical student. He wasn’t as (frustratingly) gifted as Mitsunari, nor did he have Masamune’s charm or Mitsuhide’s silver tongue, Hideyoshi’s affability or Nobunaga’s charisma. He was just him, and that ate at him.

As for her, she went into finance, often taking the same classes as the others in business. They were all older now, and a little wiser, and Ieyasu wasn’t blind to the attention she attracted. What was it about her? Everywhere she went, that beautiful smile turned heads, her wit drawing laughter, her presence drawing adoration. Ieyasu was no fool. He could see the way she bent Nobunaga and Masamune in toward her with her presence alone, whether she realized it or not.

They suited her, he thought miserably. They were both on their way to realizing their ambitions, and here he was, only at the start of a stupid, stupid road that he might not even reach the end of.

Hideyoshi took her out for sushi one night, the pictures surfacing on Instagram. Ieyasu scrolled through them, trying to parse if it was a date or a date, eventually giving up. Trying one more time, Ieyasu took pen to paper and struggled to write something to her, shredding the drafts from his notepad with reckless abandon until he realized it was no use and gave up.

Years passed.

He got accepted to medical school, and she was the first apartment he ran to, letter in hand, everything completely forgotten in his rush. She emerged wide eyed in the doorway, inspecting his flushed, panting expression.

“Yasu? What’s wrong?”

“I got in.” He thrust the letter from John Hopkins at her, barely getting the words out. “I got in.”

“Holy shit!” She flung her arms around his shoulders, laughing and smiling. He wasn’t much for hugs, but oh god, Ieyasu crushed her body against his, delirious with relief and joy swirling together. “Ieyasu, that’s so good! That’s so, so good! I knew you could do it!”

He shut his eyes and dropped his forehead into the crook of her neck, inhaling her familiar scent. For the first time, his mind sang lines of poetry to write to her, but by the time he’d gotten home, he’d forgotten them all. The notebook remained empty.

Medical school was cripplingly lonely.

Almost no one moved up to Baltimore with him; they remained largely intact, and he, apart and alone, soldiered on.

Some days when it was hard, he would scroll through her Instagram and watch the myriad curated details of her life play out in front of him, her lovely face on display for all to enjoy. Ieyasu would have hated it were it not for the fact that he could enjoy, too. He didn’t know how else to ask to see her face. She was seeing someone now, some guy he didn’t know the name of and didn’t care to find out. How long had it been? Two years? Three? Four, he realized with intense irritation, and turned off his phone.

He got a call from her not long after.

“Hey, stranger.” She sounded like a song that he desperately wanted on repeat. “How goes medical school?”

“Busy.” He huffed. 

“Yeah? Too busy for me to drop by?”

He considered that. “I might be able to make time. No promises. Maybe.”

“Gee, I can’t wait.” But her voice made his heart rise into his throat. 

She was more beautiful than her pictures ever let on, and he hated and loved it in equal measure. 

They went out to a restaurant he liked nearby (though he pitched her with the ringing recommendation of, “it isn’t completely terrible” and she laughed at him) and walked around the park, talking about life and the weirdness of it. Ieyasu wasn’t used to being open with anyone, but medical school had ground him down and--

Well, he needed someone to lean on.

So they laid down in the grass and talked about her upcoming birthday, and as a tease, she turned her head and asked him, “So what are you gonna get me, hmm?”

Ieyasu ducked her gaze, feeling entirely too vulnerable under it. “I dunno. Something you need. Like some brains.”

“You can’t get me with that one.” She tittered. “You use that one on Mitsunari too much.”

God, he was more worn out than he thought he was. He rolled over onto his arm and looked at her, as serious as the grave, and said. “The sky.”

Her brow cocked. “The sky?”

“The whole thing.” He motioned above him. “I’d take it and bring the whole thing down. For you. Because--” Oh, his mouth was dry, and she was staring at him, eyes wide, and he finished in a mutter, “because you deserve it.”

“Ieyasu,” she whispered, so sweet he couldn’t stand it. 

“Come on.” He cut her off and jumped to his feet. “I hate it out here. It’s too hot.”

“It’s like, sixty degrees!”

“Too hot.”

She and the boyfriend broke up two months later, and no one heard from her for a while. 

“Why the hell do you think I know what’s going on?” Ieyasu snapped at Mitsuhide over the phone. “I don’t know where she is.”

“Odd. She tells you everything first.”

He scoffed. “That’s a lie.”

“Is it?” Mitsuhide’s slithery voice was so, so infuriating in its smug assurance. “It’s been that way for years.”

Ieyasu opened his mouth to dispute the claim and faltered when he had no evidence. Shit. More than that, Mitsuhide was right.

What had he been missing?

“I gotta call you back.” Ieyasu hung up without warning and headed to his car.

The drive took nearly three hours, but she hadn’t moved in years, so Ieyasu was confident when he rolled up to her house. He parked in the driveway behind her car and stalked up to the front door, realized halfway there that he hadn’t taken off his white jacket, headed back and tossed it unceremoniously in the passenger seat, and walked the path again. She’d opened the door before he even rang the bell.

“Ieyasu?” She stared at him. “Wh--”

“So...” He trailed off and delved his hand into his pocket, thrusting the tiny slip of folded paper out at her. “Take it.”

“What’s this?”

“Take it,” he hissed, his ears flaming. “You told me years ago that you wanted someone to write a letter to you, and all my drafts were shit--”

“--Ieyasu, that was in high school, you remembered that--?”

“--and someone has to try and be decent to you.” He charged on, trying desperately to ignore the spreading smile on her lips. “And if it has to be me, then that’s disappointing, but I guess we can’t all have what we want.”

“Yasu.”

And she was in his arms suddenly, her hands cradling his cheeks where they’d belonged, all these years, and the next thing he knew he’d shoved her up against the screen door and pressed his lips to hers. It was so much easier than he’d dreamed it would be. She was sweet and sugar and heaven, and he closed his lips around the bottom one of hers and sucked hard. Her moan shot adrenaline through his blood. Bolstered by stupid hope, he hitched his fingers through her belt loops on her jeans and dragged her hips against his, the swell of her body intoxicating.

“Yasu,” she sighed, barely audible, and it was everything he’d ever wanted.

“Shut up and let’s go inside,” he grumbled, shoving her door open. “Don’t think you’re getting off easy from this.”

“Please.” She’d learned long ago how to separate out his ‘Be quiet’ shut ups and his ‘I can’t stand it’ shut ups, and he knew she’d found the right one from her smile. “I hope I’m not.”

[iammarylastar]

2. Back to my feet.

I woke up the next morning, it seems I’ve been out around the clock. I’m alone in my room, sprawled in the middle of the mess I left, a solid headache knocking at my eyelids.

Mikomi, my rock, my lifeline left me. I deserved it. I hurt her. I frightened her.

The door unexpectedly opens on Sensei, Mikomi’s father and the leader of the village. His face is closed as fuck and he barks orders at me, which I don’t understand. He’s not Mikomi, her voice is always clear and soft, her Japanese simple and slowly uttered.

I do my best to quickly sit up, join my hands together and bow my head in respect. He looks clearly pissed off, I assume by my  tantrum and I can’t have him mad at me or he would chop me in pieces with his katana.

Mikomi appears, padding in smoothly like she floats above the floor. She kneels down before me, her gaze at my feet, where she places a pile of clothes and a bowl of water. Before I can speak she disappears again, to be back instantly with what I assume be shaving items and a mirror.

I quickly grab her wrist and whisper her name but she keeps her eyes away from me.

“I owe you an apologize for what happened. I.. I don’t know, I’m still confused. I… Just lost my mind. I’m sorry.”

She gently pushes my hand back and says under her breath “I can’t talk to you now. Please clean up and shave. I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

The door slides shut, leaving me all by myself again.

I grab the mirror and study my reflection. Jesus I’m a waste, Sensei said something about a pig, yeah that’s me.

My hair has grown monstrous, no trace left of the clean military cut. Wild, disheveled curls twist on my scalp, traces of vomit coat my beard. I stink, like sweat and urine, I must have pissed myself while passing out.

The Japanese value cleanness as a mark of respect to the others and to yourself. I look more like a homeless, sick bear than a human, without Mikomi to care for me. I’m not Cup anymore. Gaijin fits better, I’m a stranger to my own self.

I take off the wasted hakama , those large black Japanese pants and start to clean myself up, taking stock of my body for the first time in months.

My leg looks great, light red and swollen at the foot -thanks to my little stunt I guess- , the scars are clean and neat, Mikomi has done an excellent work. As usual.

The skin of my chest look nice as well, I realize it doesn’t hurt anymore. I wash my body, face and hair, shave and cut them the best I can by myself, then clean the pants in the bowl. I gather the cut hair, clean up what’s left from my mess on the floor, tied the bamboo splinter back on my leg, tied up the new kimono and find a somewhat comfortable seated position and just wait.

I wait for what seems hours. Time for me to gather my thoughts and my strength, put myself together and stop being such a whiny bitch.

Holy shit, how lame of a soldier I’ve been, weak and crying like a baby, Angie would have laughed at me and kicked my ass.

“Stop braiding daisies, Softie. I’m waiting for you!”

Fuck you’re right honey. Let’s go, let’s do this. Let’s be a man again, let’s fight for what I lost. From now on, I promise I’ll fight to have you back, Angie, you and our baby. I’ve cleaned my mess. I’m ready.

As if he’s heard me loud and clear, Sensei enters the room, checks me out from head to toes,  then nods, satisfied.

“Yoi. Keiko. Ashita.”

God help me. He just said I’m starting work out tomorrow. He’s gonna kick the shit out of me.

****

My new daily routine is hell. I’m woken up by a gong, calling Sensei and his disciples for an early meditation. I’m not attending, not yet but I’m sure my turn will come.

Fucking land of the rising sun, the day starts at 4 a.m. and I can’t go back to sleep. 5.30 a.m. sharp: Mikomi arrives, resplendent in her flowery kimono, places a solid breakfast on my lap and leaves without a word. I’m sure she’s still mad at me about my behaviour during that nightmare. Or Sensei forbade her from talking to me. Anyway, I miss her so badly. I eat alone, but nonetheless do my best to respect the rules of the art of entertaining.

Mikomi appears again the second I put my hashi  down, and leaves again just as fast.

Then the Master stands before me, ready to break me in pieces. Mikomi’s cares were so sweet compared to this monster of poise.

His strong fingers destroy my leg as he massages, mobilizes, and stretches it. I miss the needles Mikomi used for acupuncture, they felt like honey and I want them back. Instead big iron hands bluntly and mercilessly press on those fucking points, eliciting hisses and grunts from me. At first. Each time I’m complaining, Sensei whips me with a wooden stick, hard as fuck.

“Kurusai!” is the only word he knows, which you can translate into “Quiet!” if you’re in a good mood, or more likely “shut the fuck up!” in my case.

I’ve quickly learnt to hold back my screams and squeeze my fists as tight as my lips. I undergo his torture in a perfect Japanese style.

He instructs me to bulk up my arms so I can use the crutches properly. I spend the rest of the morning to eat my daily dose of home made weight lifting, jars of water or sandbags, and a shitload of push ups, my bad leg resting on my other calf.

Around noon, about a second before I pass out, my sweetheart Mikomi brings me a bowl of water and a bowl of soup with noodles and vegetables, or rice and unknown mushrooms.

First I clean myself up, then eat properly. In no time I collapse for a solid nap, before Sensei whipes me for the next torture.

The afternoon is dedicated to training to be back on my feet. My back is wrapped in a brace, so tight I can barely breathe but at least it stops hurting.

Day one was hard, really hard but Mikomi was there and it gave me strength. Holding back my grunts, I grabbed the iron hand Sensei held me out and stood up on my feet. Up on my two feet. FUCK I was standing up on my feet again. Ignoring the huge smile taped on my face, Sensei handed me a pair of wooden crutches and just left.

But Mikomi stayed. She was my sole goal. Go, Yankee, walk up to that beautiful doll.

I clumsily stumble, like a newborn deer, but my feet moved me forward, my hands firmly clawing at the clutches. FUCK! After months in bed, I was finally dragging myself to the other side of the room. Ha!

Exhilarated, I kept walking towards my Japanese sweetheart, her smile gave me enough strength to stay balanced.

“You made it Gaijin!” She finally spoke, breaking days of silence.

I’m so happy I could cry, but the shadow of Sensei’s whip kept my tears at bay.

“Iwai!” She congratulated me. Yeah I deserved it.

I couldn’t help but bend down and kissed her cheek, hugging her small features with one arm.

“Arigato Mikomi!”

She shyly blushed and sneaked out of my embrace and padded away.

“Follow me.” She whispered.

I somehow followed her steps that lead me outside. I’ve been stuck in that room for months, that day was my first time outside. And it really was worth the efforts.

The view was just breathtaking. Jesus, beauty was everywhere. Cherry blossom trees, traditional Japanese houses, temples, pines, bonzaïs, carps swimming in little pools, paper lanterns, rice paddies hung on the hillside, the ocean in the distance. The scents, delicate like so many fragrances. The sun, kissing my skin. The air, pure and fresh, filling my lungs. Mikomi, shining in the daylight, so proud of me. This place looked like Heaven.

The end of the day is my favourite. Japan is a treasure, the temple of millennarial arts. Sensei introduces me to each of them. Penmanship and kanji. Martial arts and the art of war. Fengshui and shiatsu. Samuraïs and katanas. Everything meticulously and flawlessly executed, from the way you cook and eat food to the way you tied up your kimono. Japan manners means perfection. Hence the billion of rules that dominate the daily life. Hence Mikomi.

It didn’t last long since Sensei noticed my lack in Japanese. I can tell he was impressed by my progresses both physically and mentally. He was touched by my interest in his culture and as how I got involved in the life of the village.

He quickly asked Mikomi to serve as a translator for all the lessons he taught me. Which was a delight. Which still is.

My handwriting is shit and I’ve a hard time staying still on the zafu while meditating but beside that, I’m making huge progress.

I follow Mikomi like I’m her shadow, we’re getting close again. I mean, we chat, we laugh, she walks with me to the bathhouse where I can walk and train my leg easier, in the hot water from the waist down. I noticed the way she got lost, her eyes wandering across my bare chest, but since I had the nightmare, I’ve only eyes for Angie. At least the distant memory I have left of my angel. The truth is I’m not sure about my feelings for her, all I know is I need her by my side. To keep going. She’s my hope.

After a pretty short time using my crutches and thanks to all the work out and sweet torture Sensei forced me in, I’ve been able to walk on my own. As I’ve become more capable, I started to take part in the village’s life and participate to the shores. People were shy and suspicious as first, but by the time I was able to walk out from Sensei’s house, we all got to know each other. I was not a Gaijin anymore even if they’ve kept calling me so.

Children found in me their main attraction. My sunkissed skin was still the lightest they’ve ever seen and my blond curls and blue eyes were considered as the utmost curiosity. They’ve only known almond shaped black eyes and straight hair. I became their favorite fairy wheel, and quickly replaced the jars I lifted every day.with eager children. I did weight lifting with a child taped on each hand, then walked miles with one kid wrapped around each leg, another on my back. The whole thing have them laughing so hard, their parents politely smirked when I passed their homes, children packed as a donkey. Even Sensei smiled at me, calling me silly.

After just witnessing men practicing martial art, my turn comes and I now am a decent fighter. I help every day to harvest rice, fruits and vegetables, fix houses and fences, even cook with Mikomi, which have Sensei pulling his hair out, some things being strictly reserved to women. I practice meditation at sunrise, go the the temple and pray, mostly for having Angie back. I enjoy the show of women dancing with ushiwa, the Japanese fan, sipping black tea with Sensei, while he keeps teaching me about life.

The only task I suck at is milking cows. Definitely not my cup of tea.

Days passed, this peaceful and quiet daily life fits me. Heals me. I nonetheless have noticed Mikomi’s mood slightly changing, her eyes sometimes red from crying at night, and all I got when asking her the reason was deep silence.

I talk to her friends but no one can help me understand. I should have suspected what has happened, I should have known she is in love with me. I suddenly realize I’ve known about that, from the very beginning. I’ve been fucking selfish, too focused on recovering, dreaming of Angie, praying to have her back. Getting back to her.

My dickhead self has just used her, ignoring my own feelings, ignoring hers, killing her hope to keep mine alive.

Hope. Mikomi in Japanese. Fuck. How could I have been so blind?

I have been blind but Sensei hasn’t. The wise man knew. The Master just knows.

One day, not different from the previous one, he just walked to me and stated.

“ Time for you to leave. Mikomi has to marry someone from her clan and you have to go back to your wife. You’re a good man Gaijin but you can’t stay.”

I nod my head. He’s right. It’s time.

**

Two days later, I’m ready. I packed all my stuff in a traditional bundle, along with enough food to survive during my first trip.

I said goodbye to the whole village, everyone had a little gift for me, mostly food and handwritten prayers for my safety. As an educated gentleman, I received each present within both my hands, bend down slightly in respect and whispered thank you in the best Japanese I could.

Chan and Zhou are in charge with walking me to the nearest pier down the hill, they’re just waiting for me to be ready to leave, impassible.

“Sensei, there’s no words strong enough to express my gratitude. You saved my life, you healed me, you kicked the shit out of me so I can stand up again, as a proud man.”

I glance at Mikomi who just blushes slightly. She offered to translate my words to her father but I’m giving her a hard time. Swearing before a sensei could have you struck down, and giving importance to someone extremely inappropriate. But I know she’ll manage it. She always has.

“I owe you Sensei.” Before I bend down as low as I can to show him my deepest respect, I notice a glimpse of emotion in his eyes, which is like a declaration of love here.

I stay bowed, waiting for his benediction, waiting for my own emotions to pass.

Sensei starts the traditional prayer to the ancestors, asking them to keep the voyageur safe and as I’m overcome by his wisdom and benevolence, I feel his hand on the top of my head. Which is not supposed to happen.

My throat tightens and I force myself to slowly breathe out, stopping the tears that threaten to appear.

It’s a great honour to have Sensei praying for you, and you have to behave as well, as a brave man. Any gesture of affection can be shown, but with one of your kids, it could be mistaken for weakness.

Weak, that’s exactly how my knees feel while he pronounces the last words. Instead of calling me Gaijin, stranger, he said musuko-san , son.

Oh God, how blessed I am.

My eyes meet his, my heart speaks through them: Domo arigato gozaimasu, gratitude Sensei.

Mikomi has left her father’s side, where has she gone? As hard as it’s going to be, I can’t leave without telling her goodbye.

I spot her slim features, beside the crowd. Another weird strict rule here: do not show your emotions, especially your tears. She’s alone with her tears and her sorrow.

Silent steps lead me to her, in the shadow of a cherry blossom tree.

I stroke her neck and feel her shiver but she doesn’t budge, her back to me, shaken by unsteady sobs.

“Mikomi… I have to go…” my voice trembles as my throat tightens. There’s so much things I want, I need to tell her, but Im running out of time. And of words.

“Ikanaide kudasai” she whines, likes she’s drowning.

I sigh heavily. I knew it’s going to be hard, but it’s looking impossible.

“Look at me.” I gently turn her so she faces me, but she keeps her gaze on the  ground.

“Haanii…” I lift up her chin and search for her eyes. “Sweetheart. You know I can’t stay.”

She closes her eyes, tears lazily trailing slowly down her cheeks.

“Did I do something wrong?” She asks, hardly hiding her cries.

“ No please, Mikomi, don’t think that way. You mean so much to me, I couldn’t have made it without you. You know how much I care. I love you Mikomi, but not that way…” It breaks my heart to break hers.

The truth is I love her, with all my heart. She saved me, in all the ways a man can be saved. I love her more than a friend, more than a sister but there’s only one woman I want, one who stole my heart and my soul.

“I know. Not like her…” She averts her eyes from me, biting her lips to keep them from trembling so hard.

“I’m so sorry.” Oh God I’m so sorry.

“Don’t be. I’m blessed to have met you.” She buries her sweet face into my chest and lets it go, desperately clawing against me. I wrap my arms around her and hug her as tightly as I can. She’s been my rock, my hope, my mother, my Sun for the last 9 months. How could I live without her by my side?

Slowly, she pulls back and lifts her soaked eyes to meet mine. I’m sure she can read the deepest sadness in them. “I’ll miss you Cup.” She whispers.

Cupping her face in my palms, I thumb the tears that keep flowing down her cheeks. Before I break down and burst into tears myself, I bend down and gently kiss her lips. A long, fierce, heartfelt farewell kiss. That’s the least I could do for her.

“I’ll never forget you.” I swear I never will.

Melting into my palm, Mikomi runs her fingers along my wrist and trails few kisses on my skin. Fresh kanji, the Japanese ideograms sit there, inked in my flesh forever. Marks of the new life that has started here. Pleas for the life that’s waiting for me across the Pond. 見込み. Mikomi. Hope. Hope, I’ll need you.

It’s so hard to let her go, but I really have to leave or I will faint.

A last glance at Sensei, a nod to Chan and Zhou, a last squeeze on her hand and I turn around and just walk away.

Angie. Angie is waiting for me somewhere. I hope so.

Next step: America.

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[snkpolls]

SnK Chapter 99 Poll Results

The chapter 98 poll closed with 1,751 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated.

RATE THE CHAPTER 1,722 Responses

On the “awful” to “awesome” scale of 1-5, nearly 70% of respondents rated “Guilty Shadow” with a “5″, making it the highest rated chapter since we started polling. Well done, Isayama!

On that day, Marley received a grim reminder... this chapter woke up the obsessed snk fan in me, finally JESUS CHRIST

SNK has always been a wild ride, but I don't believe I've ever been this excited and frustrated that I don't have the next chapter in my hands RIGHT NOW- if only to satisfy the itch of knowing which half-hidden face is who from Paradis. And also to figure out what they've done to Porco, Pieck and Zeke to neutralize them while Eren gives Reiner the most uncomfortable tableside chat.

My heart was pounding throughout the entire chapter. The last time that happened was chapter 84 and I gotta say, I finally feel like this whole Marley arc has been worth it. What an adrenaline rush it's become! Now that's now Attack On Titan is supposed to be. I can't wait to see everybody else again and proceed to reach the climax of the story.

The hype for SNK 100 is too real. Everything will explode

I need Ch100 right now immediately. Waiting another month is going to be torture. In the meantime I hope Porco and Pieck enjoy their time in the pit. If it turns out that Helos is Levi I will eat my own platform boots

It was amazing. Really great story.

I'm so glad this chapter is fake and SnK ended last month with everyone having a huge pizza party!

....is it December yet?

  DID THIS CHAPTER SHOOK YOU? 1,711 Responses

To not be excited by this chapter was simply not an option, but I’ll assume that those who voted “Yes”  are slightly more subdued than the majority of us who shouted “AW YISS”.

omfg hype for next chapter!!! How does Eren not have a leg, it really should've grown back, this doesn't make sense. Why is he even there, I feel like I missed something but it's probably just this manga's bizarre structuring. I've been selling my soul the past few months. There is nothing more to sell.

Kill me now The hype is REAL. I had a feeling issue #100 would be THE BANGER. This issue (#99) however set the stage for the next one. We have potentially Connie and Jean going undercover, we have Willy's solution that is just about to be revealed, the Asian woman's sudden leave, etc. I am really excited to see what will happen next month. Just need to add: seeing Eren's hand cut to threaten Reiner and Falco was such a power move, I had chills all over.

Boy howdy this was crazy I'll tell you what

Holy crap I love isayama. What a genius!

God help me I cannot wait another month

Endgame right here, brothers.

#shooketh

  WHAT SIDE CHARACTER MOMENT DID YOU MOST APPRECIATE? 1,720 Responses

The giant red chunk that wins this question  is the “All of the Above” option with 26.4% of the vote. “Every character with a partially hidden face” was second with 23.8%. There was plenty of excitement around Trapdoor-kun. He came in third with close to 20% of the vote.

I hope the SnK world has a heaven or some shit, because then Bertolt can maybe be finally happy together with his dad at least ;-;

ANNIE IS ALIVE AND FREE CHAPTER 100 HYYYYYYPE

I love moment with Trapdoor-kun/Connie (I hope it's him). He promised Reiner in Utgard Castle that he'll return the favor and I want to see their reunited. Maybe Connie will save Gabi and the other kids in this shitstorm. Please Isayama! Connie needs his personal moment!

  ON THE SCALE FROM “FLUFFY KITTEN” TO “ACTUAL PENNYWISE”, HOW CREEPY WAS EREN IN THIS CHAPTER? 1,727 Responses

Eren’s creep factor was strong! More than 70% of us picked a 4 or 5 on the “Actual Pennywise” scale.

Eren is 100% savage. Damn I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't like him. His meddling works so well with his bitter ass and his sense of entitlement over making all these fuckers taking his freedom away disappear and get their comeuppance (read: the whole world). Fucking human worms.

Eren using Falco as a hostage makes me cry

Eren gave me fucking chills of fear

I'm loving this Eren alignment shift. Lawful Good boy is changing and I am HERE for this.

Eren's "Same reason as you" and "I don't have a choice" are the single most savage moment in the series.

I don't like Eren at all... Poor Reiner

Eren is frickin INSANE

  ON THE SCALE FROM 1 - 420/69, HOW MUCH DID EREN ACTIVATE YOUR HARDENING ABILITIES IN THIS CHAPTER? 1,713 Responses

The creep factor and hobo hair didn’t hurt Eren’s attractiveness for the majority of the fandom since 36.1% would love to be locked in the basement with him right now. The second most popular choice was the extreme opposite. 22.2% selected “ewww no” on the question about Eren’s attractiveness.

why did y'all have to write "Lock me in your basement, Hobo Daddy!"

Protect Reiner Braun You've made me have sexual thoughts about long haired Eren, damn you pollster!!!!

Eren made both my jaw and panties fall straight to the floor. It's finally getting somewhere.

my mom called eren hobo daddy o__O"

Eren being so chilled out and yet so chilling at the same time...how does one being so cold make the room seem a lot hotter than it actually is?!

I want to officially shame Eren for telling Mikasa to cut her hair during training and now he could model for   L'Oréal (I love his hair but he is a hypocrite)

EREN FUCKING JAEGER. I want to say he's cool... but I feel so strangely conflicted. I'm turned on by his loony face but at the same time fucking terrified that it's all going to crumble. He'd grown so much. I can't believe the kid that we used to adore has turned into such a beast.

eren would be a 4/5 if he shaved his facial hair imo

  WHAT WAS EREN’S MOST CHILLING MOMENT? 1,717 Responses

Again with the “All of the above” as top pick. The most popular write in was “Reiner. Sit”. We clearly made a mistake when we forgot to include that.

Reiner. Sit.

His eyes all the time, they're like windows to hell

Everything! Eren was so chilling and bad this chapter, I love love loved it!

The fact that he's still missing a leg, it should've grown back, does he just keep cutting it off?

Messing with the head of an already mentally unstable Reiner

Eren did not come to play. Cutting his hand was a power move and then when he said "same as you." I can't wait to see him transform into a Titan. Reiner wasn't ready for this. He looks like he's gonna pass out.

I never thought i needed psycho!eren and badass!eren in my life. But then i read this chapter and HOOOOOOLY SHIT!

  WHICH OF REINER’S TORTURED FACES WAS YOUR FAVORITE? 1,707 Responses

I’m borrowing a quote from a friend who said, “Reiner had enough panels of his sanity crumbling like pie crust to fill a photo album”. We thought so too and had a hard time limiting ourselves to just these six. The look of horror on page 20 was Reiner’s expression as Eren told him, “I’m the same as you. I didn’t have any other choice.” It was the winner with 44.5% of the voice.

Note to Isayama: If you want to torture a character, hands on the face is the way to go (even when those hands are strangely tiny.)

Don't freak out, Reiner, your buddy Eren has come to save the world just like you've always wanted.

I wonder how bad  will Reiner's strabismus be when Eren ultimately touchs the Bertolt and Annie subject.

Someone please protect Reiner D: (and maybe give him a hug)

ISAYAMA STAHP TORTURING REIGNER!

#stopreinerabuse2017 >:) 

Reiner is the true victim here man

If Reiner didn't have a drinking problem before he sure has one now

I really don't like seeing Reiner looking so scared... It makes me feel so bad and helpless because I can't do anything. ;-;

I’m expecting Reiner to go full insane next chapter. Seriously, he can only be pushed so far!

I absolutely love Reiner's suffering faces :D I also loved how shocked Falco was. I have a feeling that something bad is going to happen, that why Eren told him to stay. He wants to save his life. I only wonder what will happen with the other kids.

reiner has baby hands

  CAN YOU PINPOINT THE EXACT MOMENT FALCO’S HEART SHATTERED? 1,700 Responses

This was not a fun chapter for our poor little bean. There was no shortage of moments with him looking on with wide-eyed horror as the situation was unfolding.  His expression on page 35 was the landslide winner. It’s the moment Falco realized Eren must’ve met Reiner during his time on Paradis.

My boy Falco doesn't deserve this.

DONT HURT BABBY FALCO 

Calm the f down Eren! You’re scaring Falco!

Falco is too precious for this messed up world

  WHAT IS RANDO MCSOLDIER WHISPERING TO MADS? 1,709 Responses

We have a poll meme now and don’t think I wont use it! Thank you to the 29.1% of you for playing along. We were a close second. Thank you also to everyone who took the question seriously. One respondent suggested they might be whispering about the fact that all the warriors were missing. I love that thought.

Yes. There's sour cream in Marley.

For the question of what Rambo McSoldier whispered, I'm actually kinda wondering if he's whispering about someone being missing from the crowd. (I.e, Reiner.)

how much farther is my sour cream joke going to go

I do NOT trust Eren one bit and we still do NOT know if there's sour cream. Crazy stuff man.

This wasn't an option for the question about what the soldier was whispering to Mads, but I thought it had to do with that panel where the guy on the rooftop said to "report it" no matter how small it is. The Marley soldier was relaying that report, whatever it is.

The lack of concern over the disappearance of all the Warriors from the audience is alarming...unless it's part of their plan, which removing the fighters from the crowd sounds like something inline with what Paradis would be attempting if they're about to hijack the play.

  CHARACTER ALLEGIANCES! WHICH SIDE DO YOU THINK EACH PERSON IS ULTIMATELY SUPPORTING?

So much uncertainty here! We are truly divided over Willy, Zeke and Kiyomi’s loyalties.

I do not think that Zeke would be on Paradis side, he had that chance and discarded it as an idiot.

The Warhammer Titan seems to know so very much about Paradis and the truth (and Eren's name) that I think it's no coincidence he looks like an adult long hair Armin.

Willy was such a sweet pie in this chapter. I wish he joined the Team Paradise.

Why did the Asian lady wish Willy good luck and then immediatly got away from the play as fast as she could? The plot thickens...

Everyone need to calm tf down and stop being huge mega douchebags on the whole warriors vs paradis sides of the fandom Ima lose my goddamn mind let yams tell the fucking story. This fandom is killing me far more effectively than yams ever could, crying Reiner or no!

The Asian lady and the rest of the Azumabito definitely know something, as they didn’t stay for Willy’s play, and she said that “she hoped he’d play his role ‘safely’”

What is Willy's game? With so many important people there, it is setup for a massacre. But, why tell the truth beforehand? There is a part of me thinking that it is all a setup to Willy simply saying we're all going back to Paradis.

  WHAT ALLIANCE DO YOU THINK IS MOST LIKELY? 1,697 Responses

EZ and REZ feelz so strong! A sizable percentage think Kiyomi is also a part of the alliance.

I love/hate how much Isayama plays with us (?).. this is the worst who is with  who and why and when and how is it its 99 chapters and i am stiff as confused as when i watched the first anime chapter in 2013...

Yeah, I still believe in Reiner + Zeke + Eren alliance. Grim Reminder won't happen and I will be a happy, happy fan." İt's amazing!

I think Willy is working with Armin, whereas, Eren is working with Zeke. Isayama did say they were going to split.

I think Zeke is helping Eren for the time being but I also think it is only a temporary alliance. He will double-cross Paradis like he did the Restorationists and Marley before the end, and he will be a sizable end-game threat to both Paradis and Marley.

"Lady" Kiyomi of the Azmabito family seemed like she was teasing Willy before his performance, since he was so nervous. But then, she said "you're very brave. And you know our family very well", she seemed like she was threatening Willy

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE CRAZY EREN. I think he's gonna offer an alliance with Reiner so they can both save the Eldians. I hope the SC will appear next chapter!

I'm willing to bet 'The Owl' Eren knew Willy and the Asian chick when he was still living.

  WHY WERE PORCO AND PEICK SEPARATED? 1,715 Responses

62% believe Porco and Pieck were captured to keep them from meddling. An even larger majority believe Zeke was in on it. Hmmmm....

about porco and pieck. I think they will be locked somewhere. But not to take their titan. Well, it's good opportunity to take their titan but... who wants do that anyway? Jean, connie? I think not.

PLEASE SAVE PIECK

"We done fucked up" -peick and porco

My favourite panel is Pieck looking at 'springer, not a shower' whilst falling into the sin bin. Wow, she's perfect.

Porko remains oblivious

  WAS ZEKE PART OF THE PLOT TO SEPARATE PORCO AND PEICK? 1,701 Responses

That would be a solid “yes”.

Zeke does seem to comply with too much questionable activity to not be working secretly with someone. He doesn't question being separated from Pieck and Porco, he's the only one not facing the guard that summons them, he let - encouraged- Reiner to go with Falco right as the ceremony started, and the baseball mitt Eren had likely had something to do with him. The Zekeret is still a wild card though so it makes all this hard to pinpoint.

  WHO IS THE SOLDIER THAT TOSSED PORCO AND PIECK INTO THE BALL PIT? 1,691 Responses

Nearly 80% of the fandom thinks Connie is  parading around Marley as a very tall Marleyan soldier. The write in responses on this were insane!

A pikupork shipper

Hajime Isayama

The Plothelping Titan

If Pieck knows him, the most probable option is Connie, buuuut... Is he even taller than Porco? He used to be really short, has he grown up?

When I first read the chapter and found similiarities between Connie and the trap-kun soldier I was like "what the fuck?!" And than I thought Connie being that soldier would be absolutely LIT.

I don't think any of the background characters are people we know. We saw how Isayama does that with Amputee-Kun, he appeared several chapters before the official reveal and there was no doubt once it was done. Trapdoor-kun, Helos Cosplayer, anyone else? Nope. as expected of pieck, she figured out the soldier was an impostor

Personally I really hate how people are making these predictions and analyzing details like chin shape in attempt to recognize him. We simply do not see enough of his face to tell who it is so it's pointless that people are arguing about it so vehemently. It could be Connie. I could be Levi. It most definitely isn't Armin. It could be a whole lot of people but right now at least half of the people will be wrong about it so arguing is going to get us nowhere. End of rant.

Zofia from the future, who traveled through paths

  DID PIECK PASS A MESSAGE TO THE SOLDIER SHE HUGGED? 1,717 Responses

Yes. As expected.    WHO IS THE HELOS COSPLAYER? 1,703 Responses

Jean trounced this poll question with 64.4% of the vote. “No one important” was second with 18.4%. 8% are hopeful it’s Levi.

A Majestic Stallion

A member of Paradis Team, but it is too early to say who

Jean dressed up as Levi aka the REAL Helos (Deja Vu).

Kenny "The Ripper" Ackerman rides again!

I want the Helos cosplayer to be Hange, but if it's not, Armin would be interesting.

  WHAT ARE YOU MOST HOPEFUL FOR IN CHAPTER 100? GO NUTS AND CHOOSE AS MANY AS YOU WANT. 1,718 Responses

1,161 (67.6%) Seeing the rest of the SC

1,134 (66%) Annie. Please. It’s been 84 years,

1,027 (59.8%) Information about character loyalties

1,013 (59%) Learning Willy’s “one solution”

875 (50.9%) The Warhammer Titan

788 (45.9%) Eren wreaking havoc

781 (45.5%) More Reiner suffering

747 (43.5%) RIP everyone sitting in the audience at the play

652 (38%) Grim Reminder

565 (32.9%) Action with the Asian Clan

534 (31.1%) Overwhelmed Falco turning into a falcon and flying away

Seeing the rest of the Survey Corps is our dearest wish, followed by a sighting of Annie. The most common write-in was simply “Levi”.

RIP Gabi and everyone else in the audience. But mostly Gabi.

I'm saying it now - there won't be another Grim Reminder. It would be the worst possible move to make. However, I can see some sort of staged assault happening.

What if chapter 100 is just an elaborate reenactment of the finale of shrek two where shrek and the gang ambush the castle with a collosal gingerbread man whilst fairy godmother sings. Honestly I would pay good money to see willy start singing 'i need a hero' with a choir behind him make it happen isayama I believe in you.

I am going to sell my soul for chapter 100

All the pieces are being set in place. It is about to begin. We don't know for sure what will happen but things are about to get wild. Prepare the feelingstrain cause we're all hopping aboard

  HOW BADLY DO YOU WANT TO RETURN TO THE ORIGINAL CAST ON PARADIS? 1,712 Responses

No matter how great a chapter is, we remain desperate for the original cast. Last month 34.5% select “5” on the poll. This month that number was up to 38.1%.

And gimme some of that paradis crew daddy yamyams ✊️💦✊️💦😩

I'm severely lacking in Ackervitaminz

I'm tired of Marley to be honest. I hope next chapter shakes me, because this chapter didn't at all.

i still wanna know what the little miserable gremlin man is doing and my badass child Hanji

I loved the Marley chapters, but GOD I NEED MY PARADIS CREW THE SNEAK PEAKS ARE KILLING ME

while I haven't really been in any rush to return to the main cast, I'll be really excited to learn that they've all infiltrated Marley in this way, and for some final smack down to begin soon.

It's just a setup chapter I just want my Mikasa fix.

GIVE ME MIKASA AND ARMIN  BACK. I MISSED MY BABIES. I WOULD SELL BOTH OF MY KIDNEYS TO SEE THEM WELL AND HAPPY AGAIN. JUST GIVE ME THAT WISH ON CHAPTER 100 ISAYAMA. AM I ASKING TOO MUCH?

  WHICH CHARACTERS DO YOU GENERALLY ENJOY THE MOST 1,717 Responses

Cries forever for my vets.

Nearly 100 chapters in and I feel like I'm losing my damn mind. Oof. Isayama...amazing. PS: I will continue to select 'The Vets' even long after The Vets are gone!!!

(fist bumps you, my friend!)

   WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES 1,695 Responses

Last month this question was 40% Tumblr and 48% Reddit. This month Reddit was most active on the poll with 56.8% of the responses. The other platforms remained consistent.

"Where do you primarily discuss the series" giving 4chan the silent treatment?  Although I guess what they do doesn't really count as discussing.

  ANY OTHER CHAPTER THOUGHTS YOU'D LIKE TO SHARE? We had 360 write-in responses and some were essay sized in length! Thank you all for your enthusiasm! Here’s a portion of the comments.

  EXTRA DANCC

It's about to be lit fam

NERD-SQUAD TO THE RESCUE! Nothing but goosebumps for that entire chapter thankyou.

If Helos is actually a lie created by Marley and Tybur, then was the devil of all the earth a lie too? Or did it exist in reality? Will it return? And how the hell could Tybur know of Kenny and Uri sitting in front of that lake? Does he have some spies on Paradis? All this stuff is just becoming more and more fishy...

I want everyone to die.

Is it just me or did Reiner lose weight? Not aroused. Isayama sensei please try harder.

Pieck grabbing Zophia's shoulders. 100%. A+. As expected.

Okay, so, we've been speculating like mad on how Eren arrived in Marley. Reiner asked the same thing. And Isayama, through Eren's words, answered us: "is that really what you want to ask first?" LIKE DAMN, at this point I'm sure Isayama reads our blogs. At least he answered the "Why", kinda...

for god sake. reiner's suffering have to stop TTTTT-TTTTT

Bertl deserve this world.

Isayama has officially changed his icon to Reiner. Protagonist confirmed. It was Reiner's story all along. We were just along for the ride. The very traumatic ride.

I love the parallel between Reiner and that old man that hanged himself back in Paradis. I'm quite sure that Reiner, like the hanged-man, is looking for judgement. Cool to see how Bert nightmares played a big role in the end.

sc stans are insane I wonder how bad  will Reiner's strabismus be when Eren ultimately touchs the Bertolt and Annie subject.

needs more porco

Is Eren gonna sacrifice himself for the sake of saving the world as a scapegoat? Will his death be the only meaningful one in the whole series??

I hope to God Armin has a different haircut.

Learning that we're getting ova of Lost Girls and reading this chapter was the best way to start my week. I love you I wish Isayama hadn't made Reiner so hot. Too hard to focus on everything else going on =\

if reiner wants to get judged maybe he should look to judge judy for judgement, that'd be lit

I love my shifter kids, but they're fucked.

I don’t personally think there will be a Grim reminder 2.0, Paradis people, ie Armin, Hanji and all, usually don’t fight fire with more fire, they plan better shenanigans. Also, how they would be considered better than marleyans if they did the same stuff? They won’t play this low, they also know that Grim reminder™️ Is everything but effective.

Isayama why it's great that we have all those informative, descriptive chapters but something need to happen. I hope that next chapter will be full of action.

SHOW ME MIKASA AND LET HER AND EREN  BE MARRIED. And let annie be alive and well and dont make reiner any sadder. #chap100 No

Soldier, who are you? Willy, what are you really trying say? Eren, will you start causing some trouble? Levi, come out!" AAAAAAAAAAAaa!!!!

Pieck was actually exactly right! I always loved her design and oppressed but trying her best herb merchant aesthetic. So cool that she saved the lives of Reiner and Zeke, her influence on character relationships and the plot.

In RtS I wanted Reiner dead. Half to end his suffering, half to be vindicated for the things he'd done, but I guess it was Berty Beetle's turn.

I miss Levi so much, it's been such a long time since we've seen him and all I want is for him to keep his promise to Erwin and obliterate Zeke.  I can see him now, sitting with his arms crossed as Zeke enters the room.  "Been a while, you piece of shit.  Not so tough now when you're not ripping a bunch of people in half with rocks, eh?"  He cracks his knuckles.  "I will destroy you.  I will make it hurt.  Because you killed Erwin Smith and I promised him, I *promised him* that I would end this fight for him." Ahhhh please Isayama. <3

CHAOS FOR THE CHAOS GOD The slow build has been so worth it, we're all going to hell and I can't wait

Annie is alive. That shouldn't be a point of discussion anymore,

Please make my children happy, they suffered enough

I really think Jean is the Helos cosplayer because of face/mouth shape. That might be wishful thinking though :') Also DAMN EREN REALLY IS HOBO DADDY

ISAYAMA CAN YOU PLEASE DRAW BERTL FAMILY OR PHOTO OF HOOVER HOUSE OR WHAT SO I CAN REST IN PEACE I WANNA BERTL AGAIN I DONT CARE WITH OTHERS 

I just want to say that the chapter 99 pre release megathread on /r/ShingekiNoKyojin was one of the best things to ever happen, and i'm proud to be a part of it.

Now i just want to see jean What if we're all just too hopeful and in reality the helos cosplayer and trapdoor-kun are just normal people. If Annie isn’t coming back I’m rioting honestly. Also where TF is mikasa?!

I LOVE PIECK SO MUCH she is becoming one of my fave characters. Also hopefully nothing happens to cause Reiner’s mental state to become worse than it is right now. CAN’T WAIT FOR NEXT CHAPTER I think the Asian woman is Mikasa. My evidence to support this claim is that after she talked to Willy, she said ‘let’s go’ to her body guards. As if she knows what’s going on.

Seeing Pieck being smart and quick-witted made me like her even more. I'd be very sad if she ends up being killed or if Porco and her never truly meet the original main cast. Give us those warriors/soldiers interactions Isayama.

Annie...please...it has been too long now...

Regarding Eren he ackwonledged that Reiner and co. were just clueless kids trying to save the world when they destroyed the Wall. And he is stating that he as well has been forced in this role. I think he is trying to bring Reiner to his side as well as to remove a Warrior (and Falco) from the stage where things will soon go wild.

This shit was lit lit lit!!! I need war!

If the marley arc was a dubstep song, this chapter was the part where the song builds up in speed and frequency and ends right before it levels off and the beat subsequently drops. Ya feel? Warriors, come out to plaaaaay.

IMO PIECK IS ON EREN'S SIDE AND SHE ACTED IN FRONT OF PORCO

I want to know who works with who (especially ZEKE), how they arrived in Marley, I want the SC but also I really love the Warriors, asdfghjkl I really don't know what to expect but I love the way Isayama keeps us on this subtle line between ""OMG"" and ""WTF MAN"". I want some answers!  AND I DEFINITELY WANT ANNIE BACK

I hope Sasha is in Marley too. She needs pizza.

Too few panels of Marco's death. 😠

i miss zeke memes

PATHS

I love the art in the recent chapters. I will forgive slow pacing for good art.

Karina is a bitch

Isayama give Reiner a break or kill him already, end the suffering pls

And lastly, the Rick and Morty copypasta meme made it's way into our poll. I laughed!

To be fair, you have to have a very high IQ to understand Attack on Titan. The humor is extremely subtle, and without a solid grasp of theoretical physics most of the jokes will go over a typical viewer's head. There's also Eren's nihilistic outlook, which is deftly woven into his characterisation - his personal philosophy draws heavily from Narodnaya Volya literature, for instance. The fans understand this stuff; they have the intellectual capacity to truly appreciate the depths of these jokes, to realize that they're not just funny- they say something deep about LIFE. As a consequence people who dislike Attack on Titan truly ARE idiots- of course they wouldn't appreciate, for instance, the humour in Zeke's existential catchphrase "As expected of Pieck 👉😶👉," which itself is a cryptic reference to Turgenev's Russian epic Fathers and Sons I'm smirking right now just imagining one of those addlepated simpletons scratching their heads in confusion as Hajime Isayama's genius unfolds itself on their television screens. What fools... how I pity them. 😂 And yes by the way, I DO have a Reiner and Historia tattoo. And no, you cannot see it. It's for the ladies' eyes only- And even they have to demonstrate that they're within 5 IQ points of my own (preferably lower) beforehand.

Thank you also to those left nice comments about the poll. We appreciate it!