#I think it's fun pairing up two supernatural creatures

[edgepunk]

anyway. I can't believe vampire x werewolf romance isn't more common. I like that shit so much, the only one I can think of are Enid's parents from OK KO, where her mom is a vampire and her dad is a werewolf, and Enid is a witch ninja

[blooberrries]

『consequential』 — satoru

— pairing: satoru x afab!reader — wc: 5k — content: mdni, nsfw; vampire au, college/university au, jealous/possessive satoru, blood drinking, vampire bites (chest, neck and arm), alcohol, mutual pining (a distant relative of idiots to lovers), piv sex, love bites (heh literally), standing/sex against the wall (he holds you up the entire time because he's actually insane), unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming,he's a bit of a simp really idk if that was planned — notes: got possessed by the Horny Spirit, also not proofread. enjoy? also be gentle with me I haven't written smut in over a year

prompt: ["Oh, don't be cute."] + [“you’re all mine” - “hm…” - “say it” - “i’m all yours”]

While slightly spiteful, your plan had been simple and had about a 50/50 chance of succeeding, with minimal loss to you if it didn’t.

Two weeks ago Gojo Satoru had— after months of asking for it and being denied by you— finally gotten your permission to drink your blood. So he’d gone ahead and bitten you, you’d loved it and probably fell even more annoyingly head over heels for him as a result of the oddly erotic experience, and the way he had acted during the whole ordeal gave you a decent indication that he most definitely felt the same way you did.

You’d expected things to finally change between you after that, hell you’d actually been excited for it.

But instead of leaning into the shift in the dynamic between you, Satoru had instead decided to pretend you didn’t exist and proceeded to completely avoid you for the last two weeks.

(Which is actually quite the feat considering how much overlap there is between your friend groups. But you’re not impressed. You’re mad.)

To say you were upset would be an understatement. Your pride was wounded along with your ego, and you felt foolish and embarrassed and stupidly angsty. The unfortunate reality is that you’re not very good at processing those feelings, so in your time of need you turned to your most faithful, long-time friend: spite.

You know for a fact that Satoru likes the way you smell and taste�� it’s one of the many things he’d let slip when sucking the blood ever so gently from the puncture he’d made in the soft flesh of your inner forearm. So you decided to wait until the prime part of your cycle, where the supernatural consensus said humans smelt their best, and you’d procured a tincture from your witch-in-training friend that would accentuate the natural appeal of your blood for certain creatures of the night (she’d assured you it was safe, but you have your own means of defending yourself anyway so you aren’t too worried.)

Then, you’d waltzed your way into a party that was being held at his shared accommodation and made it a point to have fun. The real goal of your plan, besides sticking it to him in the most subtle-not-subtle way ever, was also just to feel better about yourself. Your expectations being upended regarding how you’d hoped things would develop with Satoru had been a big blow and would take some TLC from yours truly to recover from.

You’ve had fun so far, you’re only a drink or so in and pleasantly buzzed, and you’re getting a lot of compliments on your perfume. You can’t exactly tell them you’re not wearing anything but eau de spite, but it does feel nice nonetheless. Each comment is like a balm to your poor, chafed ego. The only wrench in the works is that as expected, not long after you arrived, Satoru noticed you.

And then proceeded to continue in his efforts to avoid and ignore you. He’d disappeared into the throng of people on the other side of the house before you could even blink.

It takes a strongly mixed cocktail, courtesy of Shoko who you’re not sure isn’t trying to kill you with the alcohol content of these drinks, for you to settle your fuming. This is stupid— no, he’s stupid. Stupid sexy vampire with his stupid pretty eyes and stupid pretty face. How dare he let you make a fool of yourself by thinking there could be anything more between you! You never should have let him bite you. At least then things would still be the same and you wouldn’t be so torn between throttling him and kissing him.

Angrily, you take a hearty gulp of your drink. Despite the superficial fruity flavour it burns on the way down, unsurprisingly, and you have to breathe slowly through your nose so it doesn’t come back up. You’re no longer uncertain; you’re confident this cocktail is an attempt on your life.

It’s as you’re nursing that drink and leaning angstily against a wall in the corner of the room, that you sense someone approach you. Your eyes take a moment to adjust as you look up, surprise filtering through you once you register the figure by your side.

“Hey.”

Your brows shoot up, a small grin tugging your lips. “Oh? Long time no see, Mei Mei. What cave have you crawled out of to be here tonight?”

The snow-haired woman rolls her eyes, lips twitching. Her tongue darts to swipe over the tip of a pointed canine.

“Oh, you know, every homebody has to come out to play every once in a while.” Her nose twitches, and she leans forward slightly to inhale. Her eyes flutter wide in pleasant surprise. “Well, don’t you smell absolutely divine tonight. Special occasion?”

Kind of, but you’re not about to tell her that. Mei Mei can be a decent enough acquaintance so long as you keep her at arm’s length.

“I’m trying something new,” you answer simply. She hums, and when her body angles towards you again ever so slightly you become aware of the most odd, prickly sensation. It tickles the hairs at the back of your neck, and you fight the peculiar urge to turn and look around. All you’d see is dancing bodies and stumbling drunks, anyway.

“It suits,” Mei Mei purrs with a smile that makes you a little nervous. Music throbs against your body so strongly that for a moment you’re not sure whether the beat you’re feeling in your chest belongs to your heart or the song. “Though you ought to be careful going on campus smelling like that. You’ll lure in every bloodsucker in a five-mile radius.”

You suppose that means the tincture is doing its job. The way her eyes are appraising your pulse points keeps you feeling nervous, though. Perhaps… it wasn’t the best idea to make yourself smell so scrumptious after all. There are more than a few loose canons in the area.

It’s a little too late for regrets now, though. At this point you just gotta double down and own the decision.

“Noted,” you say, taking a hearty sip of your death-in-a-cup. The burn is now a pleasant distraction. You smile at Mei Mei and feel that prickly, hot feeling increase tenfold. What is that?!

The sensation has your heart rate elevating slightly, and it must make the aroma of your blood a little stronger because the vampire before you lets out a soft groan, her eyes fluttering shut. Almost like it’s instinct, she takes a step closer and leans her head towards the crook of your neck. Your startle is almost imperceptible, and you’re thankful that the top you opted for is one that saved the neck exposure for a well-placed boob window instead. The fabric covering half the expanse of your throat is probably the only reason you don’t freak out at her actions.

Her nose brushes your skin, dragging up the column of your throat until it flirts with the bottom of your earlobe. Your heart skips a beat before tumbling into a full gallop. It’s different to how it felt with Satoru— you don’t like this nearly as much. Your legs tense with the urge to leave.

“Really,” she says, purring your name. “You’ve got me feeling quite peckish. Won’t you let me have a little sn–“

A grip winds around your wrist like a vice, not painful but certainly unforgiving. Startled, you look up and see the person of the hour, the vampire you went to all this effort to torment in the hopes he would want you again. Wow, it doesn’t sound great when you think of it like that. The alcohol is certainly not helping your self-esteem right now.

Satoru’s pretty baby-blues are dark, pupils blown wider than you’ve ever seen before, and his entire body is riddled with tension. He almost looks like the slightest pressure would have him snapping in half. His jaw is locked tightly, and he hisses through clenched teeth and descended fangs.

“Come with me. Now.”

You don’t get the chance to bid Mei Mei farewell, not that you really want to, and the last thing you see as you’re dragged out of the room is her waving a manicured hand your way, mouthing a playful ‘goodbye’. She looks far too amused for your comfort.

Right now, Satoru is nothing like the cheeky, carefree, shit-stirring bastard you’ve come to know and love. That isn’t to say you’re completely opposed to it, because the way he looks like know is a pretty big turn-on. But still – the difference is startling. You’re not sure how to navigate the situation.

Before you know it you’ve been unceremoniously relocated to his bedroom, and he is pressing you against the door the second it closes behind you with a heavy, loud THUD.

For a moment, the only sound that fills the space is that of the music beyond the wooden barrier. The bass is no longer indistinguishable with your heart beat – the stuttering rhythm that echoes against your rib cage is all you.

Satoru inhales deeply as though to calm himself down, only to let out a long, low groan immediately after. The sound affects you more than it probably should, heat winding pleasantly up your spine.

“What was that?” He demands, brows snapping together. It takes you a moment to realise that he’s most likely referring to Mei Mei being horny on main just before. His massive frame boxes you in against the door in such a way that you’re almost embarrassed by how much it makes your tummy flutter.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you breathe, chin tilted up as you hold his gaze. Something feral flickers through his expression.

“Oh, don’t be cute.” The words snap into the air, causing your breath to hitch. Satoru’s eyes flick to your forearm, where the slightest bruise still remains from the last time you were in close quarters like this. He swallows, piercing gaze returning to your own.

“I told you.” Satoru’s words leave in a snarl, his fingers firm against the flesh of your hips. His own body is so close to yours that you can feel the heat of it, the tingle of electricity that arcs between you. “That I would be able to smell it if another vampire so much as breathed near you. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you getting chummy with one in my own home?”

You can easily recall him saying that to you almost a fortnight ago, when he had been commenting that he could tell you hadn’t been bitten before thanks to his sharp senses and all that. You didn’t think he was lying. You are surprised that he cares, though. Something like indignation bubbles beneath your lungs, because how dare the bastard spout that shit when he just spent the last two weeks since your ‘encounter�� pretending you didn’t exist.

“Not sure why you give a shit,” you retort, squashing down a whine that begins to rise in your throat when his hips begin to press into yours. “Seemed like you were done with me after you finally got that taste you wanted so bad.”

His brows scrunch together, appearing confused for a second amongst the agitation on his features. You decide to fill the gap in the conversation on his behalf.

“I really was just a Sip ‘n’ Dip to you, huh,” you scoff, letting your head fall back against the door. His eyes snap to the column of your throat, more of which is now exposed. “At least now I know the only thing you want from me is my blood. Really saved me some grief there, Satoru.”

“Excuse me?”

When your eyes slide back to his face, he looks like you’ve physically struck him. His fingers dig into your hips almost out of habit, just shy of being painful. Anger still bubbles beneath your sternum, and you glare at him.

“By the way, as far as I’m aware, biting me once doesn’t give you any exclusive rights to my blood, so where the hell do you get off getting so shitty because someone else took a whiff–“

Satoru snaps.

“I don’t just want your blood,” he snarls, lips curling away from pin-prick sharp fangs. He has the nerve to look insulted. “I want you, you stupidly oblivious pain in my ass. All of you.”

He then leans in, erasing any foreign scents lingering on you and replacing it with something of his own, whatever pheromone bullshit vampires do. You’re too busy trying to stop your heart from having palpitations to focus on it too much because what the fuck did he just say—

“Do you have any idea how close I am to losing myself to a frenzy, like a fucking fledgling?!” His lips brush over the pulse point at your neck, and then teeth, razor-sharp and full of promise, drag over the skin of your clavicle, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. You shiver, flushing with heat and desire. The threat of another bite is already enough to have your body reacting in memory of how the last one felt. You want him, god you want him so, so badly.

“I haven’t fed since then because I can’t get the taste of you out of my head, and I can’t stomach anything else. I can’t stop thinking about the noises you made when I sank my teeth into you, and the scent of absolute desire that filled the entire fucking room the second the venom kicked in for you.” Satoru’s words are punctuated by a prick just below your collarbone, the brief sting eliciting a gasp. Warmth begins to trickle thinly from the site and is quickly staunched by a press of his tongue, and he moans. You’re so painfully aroused that it nearly makes you dizzy. He groans, long and suffering. “Just like now.”

He moves lower and lower, hauling you off the floor and completely into his hold so his mouth can reach your chest without stooping. Suddenly in the air, you can’t help the way you yelp and wrap your legs tightly around his hips – which, in turn, presses the heat of your core against the very prominent bulge there. You both echo a groan.

“Coward,” you manage to pant, out of sheer spite if nothing else. “Stupid idiot. I clearly want you. I literally could not have been any more obvious, you’re so –“

His teeth sink into the exposed top of your breast, retracting once they puncture deep enough to get a good flow. Then, he latches firmly onto the flesh, sucking it into his mouth. The act startles a moan out of you, the venom from the initial bite already transmuting the pain into heady pleasure and sending heat through your veins, all while kicking your heart into an even faster beat. Perhaps one of the best perks of the venom is that after that first dose settles in, the only part of the process left for you to feel is pleasure.

Even while you’re unable to help the way your hips roll into his own, and unable to ignore the feral, sinful moans vibrating against your chest as he suckles the wound he made and drinks from you, you manage to continue insulting him.

“You’re so stupid, why the hell did you avoid me for two weeks huh?” A moan breaks up your complaint as he swipes his tongue in broad movements over the bite, his hips snapping into yours and pressing you further into the door. The wood creaks, but neither of you pay it any mind. You can barely function around the incredible sensation of his cock grinding against you through layers of clothing. “All you did was send mixed messages and piss me off and, ngh fuck–“

He pulls back enough that you can see the flush in his face, the feral gleam in his eyes and the smear of blood over swollen lips. His brows are furrowed, but he’s too besotted by the taste of you to have as much heat behind his glare as he did previously.

“There are some things you can’t take back,” he grits out, tongue coming to clean the red from his lips. Your heart stutters, pulse thudding in your ears. “Especially for my kind. If I didn’t stay away, I probably would have ended up doing one of those things.”

Your core positively throbs with need, clenching around nothing. The extent to which you want him right now has you more irritable than usual. “Satoru, I wouldn’t have let you drink from me if I wasn’t interested in everything else it would entail—“

“You don’t understand,” Satoru groans, freeing a hand to rip at the material of your shirt. Clawed fingertips slice through with ease, taking out the bra straps underneath as well. He makes quick work of the band beneath your chest and the underwear is then torn from your form and thrown somewhere in the background. The material of your top remains, and he yanks it down below your aching breasts, watching with rapt attention as they bounce free heavily. Barely allowing you time to moan, he lifts you higher in his arms and dives down to drag his teeth over the swollen globes. He nips and nibbles across the sensitive skin, eliciting all sorts of sounds from you and an unbearable amount of desire that shoots straight between your legs. You can feel slick arousal trickling from your aching cunt with each new miniscule bite Satoru delivers, but honestly at this point you’re too horny to be embarrassed.

“I already want everything you can give me, and more.” He bites the inside of your breast and the flesh gives easily beneath the razor-sharp point of his fangs. One of his hands comes to grip the other side of your chest while he laps and sucks at the blood welling in the wound. Your nipples are painfully hard and you feel like you could cry in relief when his long, nimble fingers begin to deliver them some much-needed attention. “I want every single part of you and I don’t want to share. This is the way I am built. I can’t do this with you again and let you go afterwards. I want you to be mine.”

You probably shouldn’t find that as romantic as you do, but aren’t really in a position to psycho-analyse your response right now. It’s not all that surprising, either, since you recall someone mentioning to you before how strongly vampires bond with their partner when they finally make their choice. As it happens, his confession serves to not only make your heart soar but your pussy throb. You’ve been pining for this man for years, so even amongst the haze of lust clouding your mind you don’t have to think about how to respond to it.

This is, after all, the solution you were hoping for two weeks ago.

“I don’t want you to let me go, or take anything back. Please bite me again, mark me up–” You pause to gasp, Satoru having shoved your skirt up to bunch around your hips. Your panties are gone a split-second later, likely discarded in the same manner as your bra, and the hand that was at your breast is now trailing your slit and gathering all the slick that has pooled there. His middle finger dips in, causing a stutter in your breath. You lean forward to whisper in his ear, snowy strands of hair tickling your cheeks as you do so. “And please, please fuck me, Satoru.”

Something snaps in him, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.

A feral snarl escapes him, a gravelly “fuck” the only warning you get before his teeth sink down just above your nipple, fangs retracting once blood wells to the surface, and he pulls both the wound and your stiffened peak into his mouth, sucking hard. There isn’t a single ounce of pain, only the white-hot pleasure that shoots to your clit and has you keening as a result, hands scrabbling for purchase along his broad shoulders. That free hand that was at your slit has made quick work of his pants and is now guiding his scalding member to slap against your clit, and then press against your entrance while you recover from the shock of pleasure.

You expected him to be well-endowed, and you’re not at all disappointed. Satoru’s cock is fat and long, and with one roll of his hips it spears right into you. There is no resistance, you’re far too aroused and wet for there to be any, but the feeling of being split open by such a monster quite literally knocks the breath out of you. You hardly recognise the noise that escapes you as one of your own, hands gripping the vampire’s hair and shoulder so tightly you’d be worried about hurting him if he was human. He isn’t, though, and without even noticing your grip continues drinking from you while latched to your breast, tongue pressing and rolling your aching nipple all the while.

A second is all you get to adjust to the foreign length inside you before Satoru rolls his hips back with a moan, the fat head of his cock dragging against your walls as he does so, and then slams it back in. He builds a rhythm immediately that is almost animalistic in its desperation and fervour, each thrust firm and hitting so deep inside that you honest to god think it has you seeing stars. Whines and moans tumble from your mouth, no longer able to be held back when the only thing your brain can comprehend is the sheer pleasure and ecstasy that burns and sparks along your limbs. He begins to hit a certain spot when he fucks up into your heat that has you clenching around him, slick gushing forth.

“FUCK.” He rips away from your chest to tilt his head back in a rough, stilted moan, his hands gripping and digging into the meat of your thighs where they melt into your ass. In the absence of his mouth, blood begins to dribble down the swell of your breast. His crystalline eyes are hazy and blown out in lust, brows drawn together and expression twisted in pleasure, his breath coming in pants. He is visibly barely holding it together, completely drunk on the taste and feel of you– and it simultaneously is the hottest and sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. “Yes, fuck, squeeze me just like that.”

You oblige, relishing in the full-body shiver that tears through him in response. He bites your name out amidst a tortured groan, hands shifting to your hips. His mouth returns to clean up the mess he left on your breast, lips latching around your nipple to suck and pull once more, and it’s almost enough to distract you from the way he suddenly begins to lift you by the hips and drop you back down on his cock in time with his thrusts. Almost. You have to bite back a scream at how fucking good it feels, the pressure and pace and just how full you feel. You can feel yourself rapidly beginning to come undone.

With the combination of his venom’s aphrodisiac effects and the sheer amount of time you’ve spent longing for this, you don’t imagine you’re going to last much longer. If the unforgiving pace of Satoru’s hips is anything to go by, you estimate the same to be the case for him.

He groans into your chest, releasing your breast to bounce in time with his thrusts, the action accompanied by an almost audible pop, and shifts his hold to free a hand. The pressure of two fingers against your clit has you crying out, body jerking at the sudden rush of pleasure – your head whips down to find him already looking at you, gaze swinging from the juncture of your thighs to your eyes. Evidently pleased by the expression he finds on your face, he continues his circling of your clit and leans his head down to trail kisses from your already-healing chest, up the column of your throat, across the line of your jaw, until he finally arrives at your lips.

“Mine,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours in a feather-light caress. His baby-blue eyes are lidded heavily and almost dazed, coherent thought lost to the throes of pleasure and his most simple instincts. He nicks your lip at the same time as he angles a particularly wonderful thrust, the head of his cock hitting against that spot that makes you see stars and release a loud, wanton cry. “You’re all mine.”

You pull back to nod rapidly, unable to form words when all you can think – all you can feel – is the throbbing pleasure of his cock splitting you open with each heavy thrust. His head follows, lips seeking your own once more. The kiss is hot, and needy, and his oversized canines scrape your bottom lip more than once, and yet all you can do is return the fervour in between moans and whines. His hand is still at work between your legs, and you feel in your bones that you’re really not going to last much longer at this rate.

Satoru releases your mouth with a final nip, and moves his head to nestle it in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He groans, low and long, and the vibration turns to a shiver as it travels over your skin. His lips begin to move.

“Say it.”

You struggle to think let alone figure out what he wants, lost in the current of your rapidly approaching orgasm. His fingers pick up speed, aided by the generous amount of arousal still gushing from your pussy in between thrusts. It takes everything you have not to scream, your hips bucking.

“Say it,” he says again, an oddly uncertain note infiltrating his rumbling gasp. He utters your name while nosing at your throat and you feel yourself melt. “Please, say it.”

Realisation as to what he is looking for hits you at the same time as your orgasm. “Fuck! I’m– I’m yours, all yours! God, fuck—“

Satoru’s pace stutters, undone by your pussy clenching and throbbing around him in a fight to keep him inside, and it takes him a moment to recover before he begins to fuck into you again in earnest, movements growing sloppy and frantic but no less punishing. It all serves to prolong the wave of absolute bliss you’re riding in the wake of what has to be the strongest orgasm of your life. Those vampiric toxins are no joke.

You wind your arms around his neck, clutching him close and trying not to lose your mind as he fucks up into you, the drag of his cock against your walls somehow even more delicious than before. He mouths at your neck, hips beginning to stutter once more. You clench around him, and he breaks. There is barely enough time for a curse to escape his mouth before its clamping on your neck, teeth digging in deep— deeper than he’s ever bitten you before— and tingling heat spreading out from the puncture sites. He gives one, two, three final, dragging thrusts, body trembling and muscles taut, before his cock throbs and he buries it inside you, spilling into you with a deep, rumbling groan against your throat.

Soft, panting moans escape you as his hips continue to roll into you softly, riding out his orgasm, and you bite back a wanton groan as you feel his cum beginning to trickle out around his softening member. As soon as he comes back to his senses to a degree, he has the presence of mind to navigate the two of you to the bed before he loses strength in his legs, his mouth slipping from your neck after he laves his tongue over the wound to seal it. Unceremoniously, he drops the two of you against the mattress, but surprisingly keeps you snugly in his hold and his length still buried inside you. Ignoring how hot that is, you decide to view the action from a purely romantic light and nearly melt into the mattress.

Vaguely, you register the thumping club beats still booming beyond the confines of the room. Evidently the party was still ongoing.

“This wasn’t how I planned for today to go,” he admits, after a few beats of contented silence. He nuzzles his face to your chest, dragging his nose across your collarbone. “I was going to talk to you tomorrow morning.”

You snort; that’s likely.

“… This is how I planned for today to go, though.”

He huffs a laugh before pressing his lips together, clearly trying not to enable you further. He allows for another few moments to pass, and in that time you let your own eyes flutter closed.

“You can’t change your mind, by the way,” he says suddenly, tone odd. You open your eyes and turn to see his crystalline gaze directed to your neck, where the latest of his bite marks sits proudly. “I may have done one of those things I can’t take back.”

You’re not sure how to tell him it’s not as bad of a thing as he thinks it to be.

likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 lmk what you think!

[brights-place]

Slenderman is Goddess! Spouse

Pairings: Slenderman X la Muerte! Reader

Warnings: Murder, Gore, Supernatural, Fluff, Angst, Cussing

A/N: Okay so I had this idea slenderman dating an godess of life for example like La muerte who I think is SO FUCKING HOT! she is amazing and Slenderman dating someone like her would be so fun to write!

- When the creepypasta members saw you they first thought you were an intruder you were human - before they attacked you slenderman appeared right infront of you bending himself down to face you properly "(Name)" "Slender" You said smiling softly to him as you both disappeared once he gave you his hand - When you both are alone he picks you up like you are a teddy bear and makes you lay your head on his chest as you chuckle - You and Slender kept your relationship an secret until Jeff entered the office to hand over his report but walked in on you kissing Slender is cheek - As his spouse he makes sure to take care of you - he keeps his scary and tough demeanor but around you? he just tries his bets for you not to show PDA in public he had to keep his scary demeanor! - Due to Slender Man's history being completely unknown it is hard to determine just what he is thinking, although he is commonly seen as a cruel, sadistic, manipulative, predatory, misanthropic demon. It is entirely unknown if Slender Man actually cares for his proxies' safety, or if he's just using them in order to get what he wants, showing his controlling and tyrannical personality - Yet... he married you !! an Human? a basic human who... who didn't even he was just so CONFUSED! well he thought you were Human... - You were gonna be his victim, you were going to die in his hands yet he didn't even do that he just stared at you - He was confused on how everything around you bloomed and became more colorful showing life - You two were the opposites of eachother Slender Man is a mystery. He looks like a human being, but doesn’t act like one. It is uncertain if he is a social creature, understands human languages or behaviors, or even why humans appear to be his primary targets while you were a 'human' who was positive and shown to be a largely kind and loving woman, showing a deeply caring and welcoming attitude to almost everyone you have meet. You were free-spirited and festive. It is believed that the kindness and love of mortal-kind stem from your own - He loves to slow dance with you but he always has to bend down when you were in your Human form of course - He found it peculiar when flower petals always walked behind you - When slender cut Rogue by accident cause she was in the way when he was throwing Wilson the basher against the wall for failing his mission - Slender never told any of his useless proxies or the lower Creepypasta's knew about you but when you appeared from thin air staring at Slenderman who dropped Wilson and the other proxies who failed the missions down quickly turning his ehad towards you the dark appearance and shadowy places that where showing disappeared as he felt his blood drain - You satred at him eye twitching as your fists balled as your human form turned to you true godess form as you shouted loudly "SLENDER!" Slender spoke quickly "My love-" - He watched as you scolded him but he couldn't help but admire your appearance

- Despite both of you being as old and ancient as time itself,you kept youe vision of youth and radiant beauty as you were made entirely of white sugar candy with knee-length H/c licorice hair that is tied in a low ponytail with bangs split on either side and multi-colored glowing eyes with aqua eyeshadow that are in shades of gold and red. While your red dress decorated with cempasuchil (Mexican marigold flowers) all over and marigold flowers with lit white wax candles at the hem of your dress. You also wear an extremely large, wide-brimmed sombrero bedecked with more lit candles and marigolds, small skulls, pink-plumed, curly, swirly feathers and palm leaves. Also wearing a circular gold locket on a choker that he had given you - The proxies were smirking happily being protected by the goddess of life - He makes sure on November second that he comes with you cause you say its the most special day to you which was the day of the dead - You both Slow dance together listening to Classical music -  Though you two have a complicated relationship with due to your different beliefs and the completely different, opposite antagonistic lands and realms you both ruled. - As your husband he does his best to make time for you - When he is out "working" in his words he is just getting victims while you on the other hand would scold him but knew it was his only way of well eating - You knew that Slender wins over the confidence of children but adults are repulsed by fear. - He chooses children because he can take longer to nurture their fear, stalking them for years before attacking them as adults. - He brainwashes children, using them to further his own (unspecified) ends as Proxies. Children are simply easier for him to hunt and eat - You spend time with the younger Creepypasta's and make sure that they are patched up - The other creepypasta's were weary of you and still are - But DAMN! you knew how to cook some good food - If the creepypastas are close to the brink of death they literally scream in their heads for slender to get them or have backup which slender does... sometimes - But if they shout your name at all within any space giving life well Poof your their in an second taking them and scolding them for almost getting caught - Slender makes sure to try maintain his anger issues but he does lash out of the Proxies if they do anything wrong - When you two argue about the creepypastas you speak up "Anyone can die. These kids, they will have the courage to live and fight" you said as slender argued back to you "They are adults My love" "Yes but what has happened to them they were only mere children! well some of them!" You said back as slender groaned in annoyance pinching the bridge of where his nose would be... if he even had one

- Yes you two have different perspectives on humankind for example you believe that humankind is completely good, true and pure while Slender thinks and believes that humankind is selfish, greedy, sinful and concerned only in its own interest on the other hand. - Despite your differences and occasional conflicts you two complement each other perfectly.

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

[shinybearnerd]

"Notes of Chaos"

Hi everybody!

Since Good Omens season 2 is almost here, I wanted to share some of my ff with you.

The pairing is not between Crowley and Aziraphale, even tho there may be one of them in the future. They are so cute together and I ship them, but I think I'm not that good at capturing their ineffable love. Idk, I hope it makes sense...

This is my first time publishing a smut ff. I'm a little nervous lmao.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! Let me know if that's the case!

Pair: Crowley x Gn!reader

Words: 2,6k

Genre: Fluff, smut +18

Story: After the Armageddon, Crowley has been kicked out of his apartment and now he's living in his Bentley. You and Crowley are good friends, so you propose he stays at your place for the moment. He accepts, even tho he's reluctant. Days pass and you and the demon are coming to get closed and closed until one night, at a party...

-Engish is not my first language. So I'm sorry if there are any mistakes-

Every person that has known y/n would describe them as someone that has an infectious smile and bright eyes that light up even at the littlest thing.

They had always been fascinated by the idea of supernatural creatures, and as soon as they learned that Crowley was a demon, they were drawn to him in a strange and intriguing way. Despite their human nature, y/n was open-minded enough to accept Crowley for who he was.

Ever since the demon had entered their life, they had discovered an unexpected complicity with him.

After weeks of living together, Crowley had become accustomed to y/n's company and their eccentricity. Though at first, he'd been reluctant to accept their offer of hospitality, he'd gradually come to trust them and realized that he couldn't have found a better person, apart from Aziraphale of course, to share time with than them.

One evening, Y/n enthusiastically approached Crowley while he was immersed in one of the many blogs about plants that the demon followed. <<Hey, some friends are planning a party this night. Five minutes from here. Would you like to come with me? >> asked, trying to hide the excitement.

Crowley lifted his eyes from the phone and looked at Y/n, considering their proposal. Initially, the prospect of a party didn't seem very appealing to the demon, who preferred to spend the evenings alone or with a few people he felt comfortable with. But then, a thought crossed his mind: perhaps, this would be an opportunity to get closer to them.

After a short pause, Crowley nodded. <<Yeah, sure. It'll be fun.>> Y/n eyes immediately lightened up as they embraced him enthusiastically. <<Crowley, you'll love them! And I'm sure they'll love you too!>>

In the evening, the two walked towards the meeting place. Crowley followed Y/n. As they passed through the neighbourhood, the lights of the adjacent houses cast a welcoming atmosphere on the whole street.

When they reached their destination, the music and the sound of laughter greeted them. The party was on an elegant terrace, above a very chich club, with upbeat music and some people already laughing and dancing.

Crowley noticed that Y/n was like a fish in water, in the midst of people, while he preferred to remain cold. Still, Y/n's presence offered him a sense of comfort he'd never experienced before.

<<Come, Crowley, I want you to meet my people!>> They insisted, gently taking his arm and leading him.

The demon found himself in a various circle of people: there were artists, musicians and people with eccentric clothing.

And if before he felt out of place, at that moment he felt at home.

He left himself carried away by the festive atmosphere and found himself laughing and joking with guests who weren't Luna or her friends. Maybe it was the alcohol. Yes, it was definitely the alcohol.

As the evening wore on, Crowley realized how gorgerous and charming Y/n looked as they danced lightly. He was beginning to love the way their eyes sparkled with a particular light when they talked about something that fascinated them or when they talked to their friends… The way their nose crunched when smiling or laughing…

The hours passed, and the party continued in its fervency.

Crowley and Y/n found themselves sitting against the railing of the parapet. The bright colour of the lights created a magical and intimate atmosphere in some way.

There was no need to talk much. They seemed to understand each other even without many words. <<Crowley>> Y/n said, placing their hand lightly on his. <<Thank you for coming with me tonight. It's nice to have you here.>> The demon smiled. A sweet one that he rarely showed to others. <<Yes. I'm happy too. It was a... pleasant evening.>>

They were smiling at each other when suddenly the DJ spoke, telling everybody that the night was almost ending and that he was putting on the last songs.

Immediately, Y/n took Crowley by the arm, dragging him into the dance floor. The demon didn't know whether to feel bothered or amused by their gesture. He chose the second option.

The music was loud, but that didn't seem to bother Y/N, who danced carefree and sensually, as if there was no one around them.

Crowley found himself mesmerized by their presence. His ancient and mischievous soul recognized Y/n's attraction and excitement, and the thought made him smile. He even thought that they would have been a heaven of a demon.

He let himself go to the music, allowing Y/n to lead him on an intoxicating experience.

The evening had revealed a side of them that Crowley had never seen before: a wild and charming person, capable of awakening new sensations in him.

With an amused smile, Crowley followed Y/n's movements, letting the music surround them both. He no longer cared about the outside world or his worries. The only thought that mattered to him was sharing that moment with them.

At one point, they moved even closer to Crowley, their bodies almost touching. The heat and electricity between them seemed to increase. It wasn't just the music that moved them, but a mutual attraction that was growing more and more.

In a playful tone, Y/n whispered in Crowley's ear over the noise of the music. <<You know... we could wreak some havoc together! That would be fun.>>

Crowley smiled, realizing that they were playing with him, but at the same time seeing a small spark of truth in their suggestion.

<<We could, but you know, I've spent millennia wreaking it… Maybe I need a break, gorgeous.>> he replied winking behind his black glasses.

Y/n laughed, looking down as they resumed letting the music wrap around them. Trying to hide their blushed cheeks.

Something in hearing their laughter snapped in him and, without them realizing it, the demon slipped behind, grabbing them with one hand, which he held on their stomach, and pulling Y/n towards himself, continuing to dance.

Although Y/n seemed to never stop laughing, they felt their breath short for a few seconds. Crowley's touch made them shiver, but not in the way they expected. It was an electrifying sensation, a combination of awe and pleasure.

They turned to him, meeting his leering gaze, and their heart started pounding even faster. <<Crowley.>> they whispered, almost out of breath. The demon answered them with a knowing smile, moving closer. << Sounds to me like you need some guidance, Y/n. I can help you with the pacing if you like.>>

Y/n smiled. And immediately after they let themself be completely caught up in Crowley's grip. They felt his strong, warm hands on their skin as his rhythm joined in an intense, sensual dance. The heartbeat quickened the breathing of both mixed.

As they danced together, Y/n felt the heat of Crowley's body against theirs, a magnetic energy that seemed to grow stronger and stronger. It was as if their souls touched, opening the door to a deep and mysterious understanding. The more they danced, the more Crowley closed them, letting themselves be overwhelmed by their aphrodisiac smell; the more Y/n grinded and danced against Crowley. There were no words, just the music enveloping them, and their emotions melding together.

Y/n felt like they were in a trance, fascinated by the way the demon treated them. His touch was electrifying and everything they needed in their life.

Crowley, on the other hand, was surprised about how Y/n could push his emotions so high. In every movement, in every touch, he felt the pull of their power, humanity and irresistible energy. He had gotten used to being cold and calculating, but with Y/n, everything seemed different.

They continued to dance, letting themselves be guided by the music and the intensity of the moment, until they felt the demon's crotch behind them, letting out a sigh of pleasure. Which didn't go unnoticed by the demon, who gripped them closer. He leaned closer to them, leaning into Y/n's ear, grinding more. He spoke with a husky and amused whisper. <<Do you like dancing with me, my dear? >> Y/n moaned softly. << Yes...>>

Crowley's hands trailed up Y/n's hips as his sensual movements made them feel alive like never before. It was as if the whole universe was concentrated at that moment. The demon's hands squeezed them tighter, their bodies moving in unison. The dance floor felt like their kingdom, where they could express themselves without fear or judgment.

The music surrounded them more, leading them into a whirlwind of emotions and desire. Every movement, every touch, was filled with passion and mystery. Suddenly, it stopped. But, even though the song ended, the connection between the demon and the human was still strong.

They stopped to stare into each other's eyes, not saying a word. The short breaths were due to the movement and desire they felt towards each other. Crowley was breathing heavily too, looking at them through his glasses with an impenetrable gaze.

<<Follow me. >> he ordered, breaking the silence.

Y/n didn't have to hear it again. They let the demon grab their wrist and followed him, slipping through the crowd that had resumed dancing.

As soon as they got out, Crowley pushed Y/n against the nearest wall, approaching them with an intense expression in his eyes. Their lips met passionately, hungry for each other. Each kiss was a promise of pleasure and togetherness.

As Crowley brushed his hands against Y/n's skin, the contact ignited a fire that spread throughout their bodies. They felt the heat emanating from the demon, an intense and overwhelming feeling that made them want him even more.

Y/n's hands hooked on the collar of Crowley's jacket, pulling him closer. They could feel the hardness of his muscles against their body, and the energy emanating from him made them shiver with excitement.

Their breaths mingled, quickened by the desire that burned them from within. There was no more room for inhibitions, just the will to indulge in an uncontrollable passion.

As the kiss deepened and deepened, Crowley moved his hands over the curves of Y/n's body, exploring them with desire and reverence. His fingers traced lines down their back, leaving a trail of fire on their sensitive skin.

Y/n moaned in pleasure, responding to Crowley's touches with smooth movements of their body. It was as if they were in perfect harmony, dancing to an ancient tune of passion and desire.

The pressure of the demon's body against theirs intensified, and Y/n could feel their arousal spreading now. It was an explosion of sensations, a shiver that shot through their spines and spread through their entire being.

As the kiss broke off, leaving a line of saliva that united them, their gazes met once again. There was a promise of lust and affection in those golden eyes. An intensity that made their heart beat even faster. <<Crowley...>> whispered Y/n, their voice full of desire. The demon smiled at them. A smile full of mischief and affection that only they could see. Y/n bit their lower lip, their body vibrating with a desire that was impossible to ignore. <<Crowley, please... Fuck me.>>

Without saying a word, Crowley took Y/n's face in their hands and kissed them again hard and passionately. It was as if they were two souls on fire, consuming each other. Crowley's hands moved impatiently, exploring Y/n's body with uncontrollable hunger, starting to free both of the encumbrances of pants/and dresses.

Their breathing was irregular, their moans mixing in the night air with the muffled noise of distant music. It was a symphony of desire, a crescendo of sensations that carried them higher and higher.

The demon picked them up, pressing them against the wall, and Y/n wrapped their legs around him, welcoming him. Crowley began to playfully rub his hard erection against Y/n's core, who moaned impatiently. A sly smile was on his lips. <<Crowley... please!>> <<You know what to do, sweet cheecks.>> replied grinding harder against them. Y/n tightened their grip on the shoulders of the demon, who watched them in amusement. <<Crowley-… fuck. Please, fuck me hard. Ruin me! Ruin other people for me. >> With a sudden movement, Crowley thrust all of him hard, causing them to let out a strangled cry of pleasure. <<Fuck. You're so deliciously tight! ...Can I move?>> <<I'll kill you if you don't!>>

Their bodies moved in unison, dancing in a timeless, erotic choreography. Each movement was a promise of pleasure, a celebration of the intense connection between them. The more the demon moved, the more the human felt they were about to come.

As Crowley's trusts quickened, Y/n understand that he was close too. They could hear him gasping and grunting in pleasure, feeling Y/n's core squeezing him just in the right way. He tilted his head backwards, moaning and grunting into the free air as he had his way with Y/n.

<<Oh, my- fucking god! Yes, baby! Just like that!>> The blasphemy and the tone of their voice were his last straw. His movement quickened more, while his pushes became harder.

They soon came together: Crowley feeling his cock sweetly being milked by his lover's soft walls, and Y/n feeling his warm seed coating and filling them.

With their bodies still vibrating with passion, Y/n and Crowley remained embraced against the wall, wrapped up in each other and seeking the breath and the sweetness in each other's embrace. Their skins touched delicately as if they wanted to keep every spark of that magical moment.

With the accelerated beat of their hearts in the background, they exchanged an intense kiss, full of gratitude and complicity. Their warm skins pressed together as heavy breathing filled the air around them. It was as if time had stopped, leaving room only for the present, just for the two of them.

Crowley continued to support Y/n in his arms, his golden eyes fixed on their y/e/c. His hands caressed them delicately, almost as if he were touching a precious work of art. They felt every touch of the demon on their skin, an electric hiss that made them shiver with pleasure. He seemed fascinated by every inch of the human's body as if he were exploring an unknown and fascinating world. Every nuance, every curve, seemed to be etched into his mind like a symphony of beauty.

<<You're so gorgeous...>> Crowley whispered hoarsely, the words spoken with worship and adoration.

Y/n smiled, feeling loved and wanted in a way they had never experienced before.

<<And you are extraordinary. >> answered softly.

Their gazes met again, and deep in Crowley's eyes, Y/n could read a mix of emotions: desire, passion, but also a vulnerability that made him even more fascinating.

The demon's lips explored their necks, leaving a trail of hot kisses. His sensual bites on their skin made them quiver with pleasure, blending sweet with spicy in a symphony of sensations. Y/n's hands tangled in his red hair, pulling him even closer. They felt his heart beat in unison as if they had become one soul.

They lost track of time. It was just the two of them, immersed in a world of their own, a world of desire and pleasure that enveloped them like a whirlwind.

Suddenly the kissing stopped and Y/n felt Crowley's strong arms wrap around them while his head was buried against their chest. As if he wanted to protect them from the whole world and at the same time, wanted to protect himself.

They welcomed him gently, feeling the warmth of his body next to theirs. Making the demon feel loved. In the silence of the night, their breaths calmed. <<What a way to provoke havoc... >> he remarked, amused. Y/n chuckled. <<We should do it more often. >> The demon turned his gaze to look at them. A smirk full of love and devotion on his face. <<Yeah, we should.>> He brought his face closer and kissed them passionately, keeping their head in place with his hand.

<<I think it's time to go home...>> suggested Y/n with a smile. << Yes, I think so too.>>

He carefully set them down, asking if they could stand on their own. Once Y/n felt more comfortable, they dressed each other again and then left the party together. Crowley's arm was placed over their shoulders.

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

this is not a request or anything, you write what You want, but this idea entered my brain and i need to put it Somewhere so your inbox it is. dimension swap crossover between canon dbd and your msi au where something causes the two charleses to swap places

Oh, this would be fun!

MSI!Charles would be immediately 1000x more protective over an Edwin that didn't survive his ordeal and died at 16. I think there would be a bit of a learning curve with them adjusting to a Charles who is older (physically speaking) than canon!Edwin.

That being said, I can see Edwin being very flustered over an older Charles who wears a suit and maybe has a bit of stubble. Though since MSI!Charles isn't a ghost, he'd probably miss being touched by his own Charles.

On an angstier note, I imagine it would cause canon!Edwin a lot of uncertainty to realize that there's a universe out there where Charles survived his hypothermia and internal bleeding. Could his Charles have been saved? Had Edwin not been there, would Charles eventually have left the attic to get help? Did Edwin accidentally kill him with his act of kindness?

The Night Nurse would be very weirded out to be confronted with a Charles who suddenly respects her and doesn't refer to her as "Charlie." He does slip up and call her "Nursie" once and she feels like they're back on solid ground.

I think canon!Charles would be bewildered by the MSI. What do you mean, he and Edwin work for a secret sort-of government agency now? And what do you mean the Night Nurse is their boss? He has to wear a bloody suit to work? Why the fuck are Brad and Hunter his coworkers? Shouldn't they be in America? Or in Hell?

Also, why is twentysomething Edwin so fit? Why are his shoulders so broad? When the fuck did that happen?

I can see MSI!Edwin being charmed and exasperated by a perpetually 16-year-old Charles prone to throwing himself into danger with even more frequency and enthusiasm than his own Charles, as well as being horrified that there's a universe out there where his best friend died so young.

Canon!Charles would have feelings about the fact that in the MSI universe, Edwin has been sporadically hooking up with Thomas for years. If he finds out about the supply closet rendezvous, he might go hunting Thomas down with his cricket bat.

MSI!Crystal and Niko are delighted to watch a skinny teenage Charles following their Edwin around like a bodyguard. Niko doesn't know why this Charles hugged her for like 10 minutes when he first met her, but she thought it was sweet.

If both Charleses and both Edwins are briefly in the same universe, I can see the Edwins squabbling over who had it worse. "I spent seventy-three years in Hell." "Well, I spent ninety-five years someplace just as bad." "I *died*." "Charles drags me to office cocktail hours every month." The Charleses step back and let it happen.

First reason this could never actually happen in the MSI universe: canon!Edwin, with the benefit of having been studying the supernatural for decades more than MSI!Edwin and being an actual supernatural creature, could probably figure out what had kidnapped MSI!Edwin and how to stop it with an afternoon of research.

Reason #2: Not sure which, if either, of the Payneland pairings would have gotten together yet, but I can totally see one of the Charleses looking at the other Charles, thinking, "Huh, I think he's in love with his Edwin" and then getting slapped in the face with one hell of a realization.

For anyone wondering what the MSI is:

[aylacavebear]

Fourth of July

You live with the brothers and Cas at the bunker. It's been a long time since any of you celebrated any holidays. However, luck is on your side this year, as a case hasn't popped up in a week. You want to do fireworks with the brothers and Cas, but can you find a way to get Dean to say yes?

Word Count: 1878

No pairings, but hidden feelings of love.

Warnings: Some angst, some fluff, Dean being a sweetheart (Yes, this is a warning).

----------------------------------------- Typically, you didn’t get to celebrate holidays, especially not with the brothers. There was usually someone who needed saving, or the three of you were attempting to stop another apocalypse. This year, it was different. For once, there was no case that needed to be tended to, no one was in danger, and supernatural creatures seemed to have gone quiet.

Of course, that had the brothers on edge, worrying when and where the shoe would drip. You were optimistic, and you were daring to hope. It was the morning of July 4th, and you’d been up for nearly an hour. Coffee was done, and you were working on your second cup. Sam had already had his run and was now in the shower while Dean was still snoring away in bed. 

“You’re up,” Sam said, somewhat surprised as he entered the kitchen.

“Yup,” you replied, looking over at him, noticing how his hair was still damp from his shower. “Can we do fireworks this year?” You asked, trying not to sound as hopeful as you’d gotten.

Sam chuckled as he poured himself a cup of coffee and joined you at the kitchen table. “We don’t have any fireworks.”

“No, but everyone is selling them. We could get some and have some fun tonight. When was the last time any of us had some real fun?” you replied, hoping you could convince him. Sam was always the easiest of the two to convince for stuff like this. 

“You’ve got to be the one to get Dean to say yes,” he replied with that smile that told you all you needed to know.

A giddiness spread through you, knowing Sam was on board with the idea. Now, to get Dean to agree, and that was going to be a huge pain. Yeah, the man knew how to have fun, but he’d also been on edge since there hadn’t been a case in a week. You were hoping to use that to your advantage, though.

“Will you pick up a ton of fireworks, and I’ll convince Dean?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, grinning happily.

“Yeah,” Sam replied through some laughter.

Dean may have been your best friend, but he’d always meant more than just that to you. Your dumb ass had gone and fallen in love with him years ago, not long after meeting the brothers. You kept it hidden well, but you suspected Sam and Cas knew how you felt. Luckily for you, though, neither had said anything and Dean, as far as you knew, had been clueless.

You waited another hour before knocking on his door. There was a grumbling noise from the other side, so you went inside. He always looked amazing right out of sleep. Okay, he looked amazing all the time, but you had your favorite moments.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” you told him happily, plopping down on the other side of his bed.

“What time is it?” he asked gruffly due to waking up.

“After nine. I let you sleep in,” you told him, tilting your head just a bit as you watched him open those beautiful green eyes that soon met your deep, dark blue ones.

“And why are you waking me up, Sweetheart?” he asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“It’s the Fourth of July, and I’m excited,” you giggled, unable to hide it.

Dean chuckled, which only made you smile more, “Lemme guess, you want to do fireworks?”

“Yeah,” you replied, still smiling, as he wasn’t sounding opposed to the idea.

He rolled onto his side, leaning on his elbow as he looked up at you, “And what if a case comes in today?”

You sighed, then frowned and looked away from him. You figured he’d say that, “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything.”

With a heavy heart, you headed out of his room. Now you had to figure out a way to get him to at least think about the idea, but at the moment, had no clue how to do that. He watched you go, puzzled by how quickly your entire demeanor had changed in an instant. He hadn’t said no, but you were acting as though he had.

Dean tossed on some clothes and went for coffee first. He was also glad he had found his brother in the kitchen, even if he was on his laptop. “Hey, what’s up with Y/N/N,” Dean asked as he sat across from Sam.

“She wants to have fireworks tonight. I told her she had to convince you,” he replied, looking over his laptop at his brother. “Why, what happened?” he asked, figuring his brother had said something in his half-asleep state.

“Well, she told me it was the fourth of July and I asked her what if a case came up,” Dean replied, fairly clueless.

Sam shook his head in not only amusement but also understanding. He knew the both of you far too well. “You made her think you didn’t want to,” he chuckled.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean cursed under his breath. “Help me fix this, please.”

“Alright. She asked me to go pick up fireworks. You can figure out where we’ll let them off at tonight and then surprise her. Just, don’t be a dick about it,” Sam replied, 

Dean nodded, a plan already formulating in his mind, but he was going to need more coffee to so he could implement it flawlessly. He explained his idea to Sam, who couldn’t stop laughing but agreed to go along with it. By the end of their short conversation, Dean was convinced this would work, and he’d see that smile of yours that always warmed his heart.

You spent most of the day in your room, still trying to figure out how to convince Dean to say yes, and you still hadn’t come up with anything. That was only depressing you. You had just laid back on your bed when there was a knock.

“Come in,” you sighed, not moving.

The door opened, but you didn’t look over at whoever it was. “Hey, Sam found us a case. It’s close by, so you don’t need to pack anything. We’ll work it out of the bunker. Be ready to head out around seven,” Dean told you.

“Of course he did,” you mumbled under your breath, but he heard you. “I’ll be ready,” you told him, rolling over to glance at the clock. It’s seriously five already. So much for fireworks. The thought was depressing, but you would at least attempt to hide that.

You considered arguing with him, begging to start the case after some fireworks, but you knew he had a one-track mind when there was a case involved. You didn’t even notice him leave and close your door. With a heavy heart, you got up to get ready. A quick shower, hunting clothes, and a few choice weapons to stash on yourself. 

Putting your hair up in a braid, your mind attempted to wander. Another year, another holiday lost to a hunt. Are we ever going to get to enjoy a holiday like regular people do? Your thoughts were somewhat depressing, but you forced yourself to focus on the case, that Dean hadn’t told you much about. You also made a mental note to smack Sam for even looking for one, on today of all days. 

Just before seven you headed out to the war room, seeing the brothers and even Cas standing there. You put on a fake smile, but they all saw right through it. They’d been reading people their entire lives and you never could fool them, no matter how hard you tried. The four of you headed into the garage. You sat in the back with Cas while Sam sat up and Dean drove. 

“So, do I get any details about this case?” you asked, glancing at Dean’s reflection in the rearview mirror.

“Simple salt and burn. Or, at least, that’s what we’re hoping for,” Sam replied, sounding fairly convincing.

You sighed and looked out the side window. It was already dark, and every-now-and-then, you’d see a firework go off in the distance or hear them. In all honesty, you’d gotten your hopes up far higher than you should have. Now, all you wanted to do was curl up and cry at missing yet another holiday to a stupid hunt. It didn’t help when Dean pipped in, either.

“Look, Sweetheart, your fireworks,” he told you with a small smile.

He could see the pain in your expression, and it was killing him to do this surprise for you, seeing you like that. Dean secretly hoped that the surprise he had for you would bring the smile back that he loved to see, which always lit up the room.

The drive was silent; you lost in your thoughts as you stared out the window. It didn’t look like you were going anywhere near the town. In fact, it looked like he was driving further out into the middle of nowhere. Maybe it’s an old farmhouse or something, you thought to yourself with a sigh.

Well, he did pull off the main road onto a dirt one. Then, he drove for another few miles before he stopped in what looked like an empty field. You couldn’t see any building around anywhere, so were utterly puzzled. What sort of salt and burn would be out here?

Dean turned off the engine, and then the four of you got out. You walked toward the front of the Impala while Dean and Sam headed to the trunk. With your hands on your hips, you looked around, trying to figure out why he’d stopped there.

He was smiling as he pulled out a sparkler and lit it, then brought it around to you, “Hey, happy Fourth, Sweetheart,” he told you with a happy smile.

You felt the tears slide down your cheeks when you saw the sparkler in his hand. You couldn’t even thank him. You just hugged him tightly. He had to move the sparkler out of the way quickly but held you close with his other hand.

“I’m sorry about this morning,” he told you softly, kissing the top of your head.

You pulled away enough so you could look up at him, a few tears still on your cheeks, but they were happy tears. “This means a lot to me. Thanks, Dean,” you replied, smiling.

He returned the smile and handed you the sparkler, but you noticed a mischievous glint in his eyes as if he was up to something more. That was when Sam and Cas joined the two of you. They each had an armful of fireworks.

“So, what do you want to set off first?” Dean asked you with a smirk.

The night was spent with laughter, lots and lots of fireworks, a bottle of whiskey, and, most importantly, a family of misfits who truly needed a break from the dredges of the hunting life. You still didn’t tell Dean your deepest feelings, but you loved what he’d done for you. He didn’t share his with you either but cherished your laughter and the way your eyes sparkled when you were genuinely happy. For now, that was enough for both of you.

----------------------------------------- One Shots Master List Main Master List

Forever Tag List: @roseblue373

[lostonehero]

PLEASE elaborate on the werewolf Elias idea omfg

That sounds so interesting

Hope you're ready for a lore dump

So Elias 7th born werewolf actually a big terrifying wolf during the full moon

Problem

Elias can not grow facial hair and has little to no body hair, which is incredibly rare, and he's thin and small, which again is abnormal for a natural born werewolf first off, so he is easily mistaken as human

Second fears are entirely separate from this supernatural side so Jonah has no fucking idea about any of it and thinks it's fake and doesn't exist because again removed from the fears or the fears have a bastardized version of the creature (ex stranger changling hunt wolf end vampire etc etc)

Jonah doesn't choose who his eyes get placed in the Beholder does (this is cannon to my fics fight me) so the whole things happens and Elias isn't dead surprise they are sharing a body. Jonah doesn't let Elias have control.

Jonah gets settled and can't marry Peter because Elias is born male. Move in together in the span of two weeks.

(Fun fact another cannon to my fics. Jonah is originally a Trans man. I just wanted to put that out there)

Elias is throwing alarm bells as it gets closer and closer to the full moon. Jonah thinks he is crazy and doesn't understand why he isn't gone yet.

Peter likes that Elias is in their, spices things up, but he does roll with the werewolf thing and uses every version of a puppy nickname.

Elias is basically trying to force himself in control and tries amd fails to get Jonah to get Peter to leave right until the moon rises

The morning after comes

Elias has control

Jonah is fucking confused and slightly scared to see everything a mess Peter has bloody bandages on.

"I told you to eat more, but noooo I'm the fucking crazy one." Elias huffs as he puts a pair of boxers on in the mess. "I'm crazy werewolves aren't real. Like here's your fucking proof asshat."

Jonah is too stunned to fight back for control, which he won't get until Elias lets him

"I haven't turned anyone since I was born and you fucking ruined that." Elias finds his phone through the mess and dials a number he knows by heart. "Hush up you damn vic- edwardian cunt." He sighs. "No, Oliver, I wasn't talking to you. Look, it's complicated. I'll text you the address, and yes, I did turn someone, but like, I'm also possessed by one Jonah Magnus.... yes, I know.... well how the fuck was I suppose to know I would get his eyes? Ok... yeah, that would be great. No, I can clean up. You don't have to help it's not as bad as I thought.... yeah that would be nice... what do I owe you? Don't give me that just because... fine, fine, you're right... thanks, man."

Time passes Peter is carried into bed and tea is placed on the bedside table and the apartment is cleaned before there is a knock.

"You got an end avatar to help us?" Jonah stares at Oliver, who answers the door.

Elias sighs heavily. "He's not just an end avatar, Jonah. Oliver is a vampire he was turned around the black death, and not one of the fear ones. Sorry, I'm still getting used to sharing a body. You can come in. I just finished cleaning, Peter is inside in bed, but he still hasn't woken up. He just got the fever yaknow."

Oliver steps in holding up two large bags. "I got all the stuff you need for yourself and him. You look like shit."

"Thanks." Elias sighs, taking a bag. "The asshole wouldn't listen when I said eat more, and I just barely started to get a bit of fat on my body too. That's gone. At least I know all his suit fittings are ruined."

Oliver sighs, but it sounds like a wheeze. "I'll look over Peter for you. Hopefully, he isn't having a bad reaction to the bite. Oh yeah, let our group know the whole deal with Jonah and sharing a body. I also got the paperwork started for Peter when he feels well enough to well you know grip what happened."

Elias nods. "Yeah, I get it."

Jonah has no idea what is going on and is freaking out

This entire conversation Jonah is freaking out and Elias is just ignoring him

[author-chan06]

Remrom Trick or Treat!!

Hello, anon! I’m so glad to have a trick or treater, so I spun the wheel I’m using and… Treat it is! And for you I have a fic, filled with pining, supernatural creatures, found out secrets, and a happy ending! Pairing: Remrom/ Roman Sanders/Remus Sanders Wordcount: 2,848 A/N: This was supposed to be short. O-o What happened??? I think I just really lovedddd writing Fae Roman and doing world building and so… this happened. I hope you guys like this too, since I had way too much fun with it ahah Tws: Possessiveness, Codependency, Worry about being Abandoned or Hated, Implied and or Referenced Supernatural Bigotry and Hatred

Hidden Underneath

Summary: Roman gets turned into a fae, and struggles with the way this has changed him while trying to keep it from his brother who he is in love with and who makes his fae instincts go feral.

“Okay,” Roman whispers to himself, staring at the mirror and taking a deep breath, “I’ve got this. Everything will be fine. Remus has always been fine with the strange and absurd, and I’m his brother, it is not as if he will think me some kind of monster.”

Roman’s reflection shimmers as if covered in water or as if the mirror is mesmerized, something otherworldly peeking out from behind his eyes as he runs a hand over his skin and notices how any blemishes or scars or roughness that were there before have simply vanished, leaving him soft and kind of warm, as if he’s never even set foot in danger or as if he effortlessly glided through life without so much as a scratch. He remembers enough ridiculous dares to counter that though, and it just makes him panic even more, wondering how he’s going to explain this to anyone. And— 

Oh Hera, how is he even supposed to ever look away from the mirror when he looks like this? 

Truly, staring at himself is almost hypnotic now. His skin shines and his eyes seem to glow a stunning red. And he can almost hear music rising in his head. If he just presses his hand against the mirror, it would go through, he knows, the other fae would be there, and they could dance for years, they could shimmer and shine and play so many tricks on the humans nearby, he could be everything for millennium—

“Ro! I know you’re vain, but you’ve been ‘getting ready’ for like two hours, and if you don’t hurry, I’m throwing a molotov cocktail at the church!” 

Roman jolts, curses falling from his lips as he stumbles backwards— he only barely registers that they aren’t English curses as he turns to the door and glares at it. He quickly turns his words to English again to yell back, “I’m almost done! Remus, you promised no more fires this year! Don’t dishonor yourself, keep to your word and wait a minute!”

He takes another glimpse of himself in the mirror, and swallows as the call of the otherworld swells into something almost too much to resist— a Siren song that promises everlasting desires and excitement abounds, anything and everything and nothing and he wants it, he wants— But he rips himself away, dropping his eyes to the ground and swinging the door open.

Remus is standing outside, hand already curled around a bottle— though, Roman does note with relief, it is not a molotov— as he looks Roman up and down and his lips twist into a grin, “Looking good, Ro! Guess all that time wasn’t a total waste.” 

A glamor covers all his less human extremities and aura, and though it itches, Roman leaves it on, only letting some of the more just uncanny valley vibes be felt, just enough that he feels a bit off.

That sure is one way to explain this transformation, and all of the ways that it has affected him.

Roman sighs, and cocks his hip out, letting his hand sit there as he looks pointedly at the bottle, “We weren’t supposed to be drinking tonight.” 

Remus doesn’t know that Roman made that rule because he thinks it’ll be hard to explain his new found ability to drink five entire glasses of hard whiskey without as much as becoming tipsy or gaining one wobbly leg. But Roman has really been hoping he wouldn’t question it, since Roman has never been much of a drinker anyway— he was always quite the lightweight— He should have known that was a foolish hope.

“C’mon, Ro,” Remus whines, throwing an arm around Roman’s shoulder, “Don’t be such a stick in the mud! It’s Halloween, don’t we deserve to let loose? It’s basically the supernatural’s holiday! Their fucking— their spooky type of fucking Christmas!” 

Roman tenses, but he doesn’t push him off, if anything he finds himself leaning into it, the scent of ocean and fire engulfing him at the same time that feelings of amusement excitement and something almost warm hot bubbling need want need slam into him, sliding under his skin and making him shiver.

He tries to ignore it, and to ignore the way that the touch feels different in a way that Roman cannot quite classify, in a way that’s hard to explain, in a way that’s inexplicably more.

Roman shakes himself and lets out a sigh, though it feels forced, “Even if that was true, that means nothing for you. You are not supernatural, Remus. And we still have school tomorrow. You will regret it when you are confused— yet again— about how you ended up face first in the forest with a pack of werewolves, and haven’t finished your homework.”

“Now I know you’re full of it,” Remus grins, “I don’t regret anything about that. Those guys— and the Enby one, oh fuck that one fucked fun— were my best lays of this decade, Ro-Bro!”

Roman swallows down the flash bang of anger that bursts across his skin, having to yank Remus closer— he starts walking to make up for it— to stop Remus from noticing the way his eyes flare, his teeth baring themselves as if to bite him into shutting up about them. The pull also has the added benefit of getting Remus closer to him— so everyone knows they’re together, he thinks sharply— though he didn’t do it with that in mind, and it’s ridiculous really. Roman has never been the jealous type; especially not with Remus. He didn’t have a need to be; ever.

But oh he feels it now, and he’s sure he’s projecting it as strong as the smell of Remus’ faux cologne.

If anyone nearby has a sense for supernatural elements then they definitely felt that sharp spike, and will probably still be able to sense the angry type of biting look away stay away mine mine mine that he can feel surrounding them as they make their way outside, and for once since the disaster that started this, Roman is glad that Remus hadn’t been involved; he isn’t sure how he would explain this strong urge to him without outing himself as having feelings that he knows he should not. Though he may have been drumming up the courage for that talk before, now… Now Roman is not quite so sure that is a good idea.

“Yes, they may have been good,” The growl in his throat is hard to talk around, and he suddenly has quite the admiration for other supernaturals who he knows from experience have learned to work around these limitations and use them to their advantage. “But it was not a good situation, do not kid yourself. One of their claws slashed through your sternum like tissue. I do not want to spend another after Halloween morning in the hospital, or urgent care.” It had been excruciating, terrifying, and of course the first thing that Remus had said when he’d woken up, cotton mouthed and stitched up:

“So, who cleaned me out? Cause I know there was a lot of cum, and I don’t feel it anymore, kinda a shame—” Roman’s pillow hit his face before he could say more and Remus laughed, coughing as doctors and nurses rushed in and glared at Roman.

He’d dropped the pillow, but he had never apologized. And Remus never asked him to either.

“Okay maybe it wasn’t a good night,” Remus finally concedes, his grin not faltering for a minute as he curls an arm around Roman’s waist and the night air hits their faces. The cold openness of the air tastes like salt and dry ice, and it’s strange, because he doesn’t exactly feel cold, nor does he start to shiver, or gain goosebumps, but he does feel the chill settle over his skin, forcing him to seek warmth in his brother's side, his skin a light warmth against Roman’s, his eyes a burning sensation against the chill. “But this is just some wine! No claws will be near my dick— or ribs— tonight!”

A vampire— one that looks kind of familiar but he finds that they’re too slippery to recognize, as if all of their colors and limbs are curling around themselves, their scent and look not distinguishable between the rest of the world, and that’s alarming, because he should know them, he should, the feeling of it is right on his tongue, but he cannot—  does a double take at them, and Roman narrows his eyes— panic and protective instincts surging in his chest and into his aura, until the supernatural ducks away, clearly deciding that whatever they want or need simply isn’t worth the risk of setting him off.

His breathing shutters, something terrifyingly satisfied rising in his chest that he tries to ignore as Remus continues to ramble at his side, “— If anything I’ll have some flippers around me if you know what I mean,” He wiggles his brows and Roman blinks, brows furrowing as he looks over at his brother.

“No, actually. I do not know what you mean.”

“Ro,” Remus practically deadpans, “That mermaid I’ve been flirting with for months now? You know the one that was in my Interpersonal Comm Class, and did that whole speech at the supernatural rights rally talking about how the school needed to have better ways for them to get around in water if they wanted or had some type of emergency; the one that you specifically called: A Cutiepie? You know, that one?”

Patton Hart, Roman remembers, his stomach twisting, because— yes, he had called him that, and he doesn’t even disagree now— Patton is objectively the sweetest creature on campus, and has light brown hair that matches his eyes, and a face that’s soft and round like mermaids often have, and he has seemingly never so much as had an argument with anyone about anything— but something about Patton is now unsettling, as if something underneath his skin is rebelling against the idea of Patton being just sweet without something wrong going on. As if he’s now inherently more suspicious than he was just a few days before.

The idea of Remus anywhere near Patton makes Roman’s blood boil, and he has to violently push away the urge that tells him to curl around Remus tight enough that he cannot move, that he cannot leave and go see a mermaid—

“Are you sure that is a good idea?” Roman chokes out instead, reeling from the intrusive, strange, out of character, borderline hateful bigoted thought that has jumped from his mind. “Don’t mermaids have a curfew? I thought they were supposed to be back in the water by twilight? Are you saying,” Don’t, don’t, don’t. “You’ll be going back into the water with a dro— Patton?” He stares wide eyed at the ground at that slip, because that’s something he would never say, not in a normal situation, not even if the mermaid was cruel, he would never be so cruel back himself, but oh he really cannot stand the idea of Remus with a mermaid, with another supernatural that is not himself— And it feels like ants under his skin; denying himself the ability to tell Remus as such and make sure he stays with him, to make sure that everyone knows he’s taken—

And surely, he would be better company, he can do so much more than Patton, he knows Remus so much more than Patton

He can give Remus so much more; the Earth, the Land, the Sky. He can show him the highest peaks of the world and shield him from all harm. He can immortalize him in the most beautiful of ways. He—

Remus pokes Roman in the arm and he jolts, eyes swinging over to catch his brothers, who looks vaguely concerned, hand looping around his elbow as he leans against him and asks, “Bro, are you okay? You’ve been kinda… spacey tonight.” He pauses, “And yesterday too, actually.”

“I—” He doesn’t know how to say it. How does one tell their twin brother that they were tricked into becoming a fae? A fae that has so little control over their powers and instincts that even a slight look in their direction makes his aura scream to look away from them. A supernatural that many of the world despises. A creature that is known for being immoral and tricking people into sinning for amusement or pure boredom. How can he say such a thing, to admit to such a thing, to such power. Will Remus think he’s horrible for having it? Will Remus be scared of him? It makes his hands shake.

Roman is, it seems, at a crossroads. Though this one is more complex than two different paths to take, and all of them seem to run right to Hell. 

Perhaps finding a crossroads demon would be easier than this. … Not that Roman believes in those— he knows the history of those myths and how stereotypical they are— but he now understands why so many, humans and supernaturals alike, have seeked them out.

Roman curls his fingers around his brother's arms, savoring the warmth as his resolve wavers and then hardens. This may be the last time they ever touch, after all, and so he wants to remember it, to imprint it in his skin, for as long and as well as he can.

“Something happened,” Roman starts with, both of the brothers stopping in the alley they had been cutting through to get to the house party, “A couple days ago. On Wednesday, I believe?” He shakes his head. “That doesn’t really matter, but yes, I was approached by a, by—” His face flushes in embarrassment, and he takes a breath to try again.

“A fae?” Remus offers, brow quirked in amusement.

“Yes, thank you,” Roman rolls his eyes, “I was approached by a fae and—” 

Roman freezes, stomach plummeting as his heart jumps, rounding on Remus and staring as his brother laughs, leaning into him. The flush of his face burns up his skin and he hisses when he asks, “How long have you known? Why didn’t you say anything! I’ve been fretting about talking about this for days, struggling with what to do daily and how, and if I would lose you, and you—” His voice cracks and Remus finally stops laughing slowly, sighing as he pulls Roman closer and they tumble to the ground of the alley way. Roman’s nose scrunches but he shifts closer to Remus, and clutches at him hard, almost desperate in the way he has to stamp down the urge to bite and press them so close their ribs knock together, to get the reassurance he wants and bind him in some way he cannot escape—

“Sorry, Ro,” Remus mumbles, “I didn’t really know how to bring it up either. Thought you would eventually, and hey you did!” Roman sends him a withering glare and he giggles awkwardly. “Right, but uh, yeah, I kinda was gonna drop some hints tonight at the party, and see how you reacted but uh,” He glances around the alleyway, “I don’t… think I’m gonna be doing that anymore.”

“And you’re not gonna be going home with Patton either.” Roman growls, finding that now that that secret is out, his lips feel loser, the glamor shimmering away just enough that Remus is hit with the overwhelming aura that now surrounds Roman. 

It also lets Roman smell him more thoroughly.

Excitement. Curiosity… Desire.

Remus curls his own hand around Roman’s neck and leans closer, his eyes shiny and dark at the same time. The smell of fire rises with the tide and Roman’s chest feels warm warm warm and his fingers itch to touch, and with the way Remus is looking at him, he knows he can. 

He scrambles to press his fingers to his brother's stomach and feel the way it moves underneath. Mortal and alive and right here with him. Not gone, not angry, because Remus knew the whole time, and still invited him out; he hadn’t treated him any differently, he hadn’t had any problem with it whatsoever. Roman falls a little more in love, and kisses Remus right on the lips, swallowing the surprised but excited noise he makes and threading their fingers together beside them, as he breaks out into a giddy grin, canines flashing.

This is going to be confusing and frustrating, surely. Roman still needs to learn how to control his powers and himself, and he still needs to actually get information about how Remus knew about him, to know if anyone else is privy to that information. But for now, Roman is more than happy to just let himself indulge in Remus, and just be fae.

Roman does end up binding Remus to him for eternity— he doesn’t even need to ask. 

Remus stays, and he comforts, and Roman… Roman presses kisses to his skin and thanks him for it for eternity, forever grateful to have someone so understanding and so very his.

@remrom-trickrtreat

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 36 – MONSTERFUCKING

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: antigrav_vector

antigrav_vector is such an amazingly creative writer when it comes to explicit monster fics, and I couldn't love them more for that. They come up with tons of fantastic concepts, and I especially love how they explore xeno-biology in a lot of their work. If you're looking for some excellent monster smut, you've come to the right place!

Here's some of their work that I think you should check out:

Collared and Bound

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 2,804 Tags: Vampire/Werewolf Sex, Dom/Sub, Mating Bites

Summary: This is utterly self-indulgent trashy supernatural romance fic with trashy smut. You've been warned.

Reasons why I love it: The modern day Romeo and Juliet, except it's werewolves and vampires. I love how Steve indulges Tony in what he needs - or rather what they both need in the end. And I especially loved the tidbits about what their relationship means for them in the socio-political context. This fic is wonderful, and you should definitely read it!

Straight up, with a Twist

Pairing: Steve/Tony/Pepper Rating: E Words: 3,612 Tags: A/B/O, Tentacle Sex, Dirty Talk

Summary: The Avengers came across some weird glowing plants during one of their missions, and that has consequences no one expects. Steve, Tony, and Bruce got exposed, but only two of them are showing any kind of symptoms. Such as they are. Pepper doesn't know how to react at first, when she finally finds out exactly what these symptoms are. Both her lovers have tentacles, all of a sudden. They're also doing their best to seduce her.

Reasons why I love it: Pepper is really having the time of her life here. I love tentacles in all shape or form, and this version of tentacle anatomy is super intriguing. Especially the fact that Steve and Tony both kept their genitals. Definitely check this one out, it's great!

Tap (that) Root

Pairing: Steve/Bucky Rating: E Words: 3,735 Tags: Plant Hybrid Steve, Sex Pollen, Dom/Sub

Summary: Things go very awry on a mission, but oddly enough Bucky's enjoying every minute.

Reasons why I love it: Bucky being so turned on by the fact that Steve is restraining him with his own body is really fucking hot. The whole fic had me fanning myself, there are so many great lines. I hope you give this one a shot, because antigrav_vector and Quarra did a fantastic job!

Submersive Tactics

Pairing: Steve/Bucky/Tony Rating: E Words: 6,112 Tags: Bucky and the Winter Soldier as Separate People, Consentacles, Synaesthesia

Summary: Steve and Bucky have more or less managed to calm James down, and Tony's done with his upgrades. That means experimenting with Bucky and James' new ability to gain temporary octopus arms.

Reasons why I love it: Being able to taste emotions through your tentacles is such a kick-ass concept! I love the differing points of view, especially the descriptions of how Bucky and James perceive Steve and Tony's tastes through their newly gained senses. This fic is super fun and hot as hell, and you should definitely read it!

He Followed Me Home (Can I Keep Him?)

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 7,748 Tags: Mer-Steve, Fluff and Smut, Telepathy

Summary: Tony was hot on the trail of the Xi'an'du daggers with Pepper and Jarvis at his side, when another startling discovery left him feeling like he got slapped in the face with a fish. Merfolk, it turned out, weren't as mythical as he'd always thought. Really, in retrospect, he probably should have known better than to think that, after all his experiences with magical creatures and artifacts, but, well, he's not perfect.

Reasons why I love it: I love the merman lore in this fic, it really raises the stakes for the smut at the end to know why Steve approached Tony in the first place. And the whole telepathic aspect is super fun too. This fic is great, and you should definitely read it!

[nobedofroses]

October 6th

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, brief descriptions of demonic possession (as pertains to watching a horror movie), copping feels, boners, allusions to smut

words: 1.3k

a/n: Prompt for today is "purposely suggesting a horror movie (even though they know they themselves hate horror movies) just so they have an excuse to cuddle up for the night" from this list by @novelbear. Javi's such a cutie

Directory, Day 5

🎃🎃🎃

Javier had asked you to come to his place to “watch a horror movie.” Sometimes it felt like you were dating a teenager when he couldn’t come up with a better way to ask you for sex than making up something to do at his place. Which was ridiculous in the first place because you had sex almost every time you saw each other and in the second place because you knew he hated horror movies. 

Having grown up a (not so) good Catholic boy, he wasn’t allowed to see horror movies when he lived at home. And despite not going to church in almost 20 years and the fact that he had seen so many real bad things in his career, he was freaked out by them. Especially the supernatural ones. 

Javi had invited you over, to watch the creature feature that was on tv that night and start getting in the Halloween mood. Except the way he said it, it didn’t sound like Halloween was the type of mood he was interested in. Maybe it was also the Catholic upbringing that had to do with the double entendre around sex. 

Regardless, you knew that the horror movie that night centered around demonic possession and the devil and you knew that’s what freaked Javi out the worst. Which is why you knew he didn’t know what the movie was. But you weren’t going to enlighten him. If he couldn’t come out and say that he would like to see you so you could have some fun together, then you wouldn’t come out and say that he wouldn’t like the movie. Plus, it would be fun to see him a little scared. Maybe you’d be able to comfort him a little. 

That night, you headed over to his place, bringing candy and soda with you since you didn’t really like the beer or whiskey he had on hand to drink. He had promised that he would have popcorn ready to make as soon as you got there and breakfast stuff. Just in case you stayed the night. 

Javi answered the door quickly, looking handsome in his button down and tight jeans with his hair styled away from his face. He leaned down and you let him kiss your cheek, liking to make him wait for more. He was of two minds, you knew. Hating to wait but loving the game. 

In several minutes, you were turning the tv on and Javi was just finishing up the popcorn. You also took the opportunity to turn the lights off, to make a more atmospheric and immersive movie watching experience. 

Popcorn bowl in hand, Javi walked in just as the title sequence was appearing, and he missed the words as he set it down on the coffee table. The credits were going as you grabbed a couple pieces and then turned to him, touching the fabric of his shirt. His eyebrows went up, pleasantly surprised if you wanted to get started before the movie did. 

But what you said was, “Javi, this isn’t very comfortable if I get scared and need to be close to you. Take it off so it’s just your undershirt?” 

Javi smiled generously and said, “Sure thing, sweetheart. Wanna help me?” 

You smirked and started working on the buttons, knowing a turned-on Javi would be more fun to tease. Once you were done, you pushed his shirt off his shoulders and then off his arms with his help. Then you smoothed your hands over his strong chest like you were smoothing out wrinkles, “accidentally” brushing his nipples with the tips of your fingers. 

“Much better. I think it’s starting now, so let’s watch,” you told him, turning your back on him completely and leaving him with hard nipples and a half hard cock. Javi guessed you didn’t want to start before the movie. 

The first fifteen minutes or so went smoothly. When everything was still a mystery with no explanation for the horrible deaths and curious happenings. You and Javi ate popcorn and candy and chatted about some of the bad acting and special effects and were having a good time. And then the characters started realizing what was happening and there was the first on-screen demon activity and you felt Javi stiffen beside you. And not in the fun way. 

“What was this called again?” he asked, his voice a little higher than usual. 

“Um, I don’t really remember. ‘Something Something Demon Something’? Maybe something like that,” you replied nonchalantly. 

You thought you heard him swallow and tried to hide your smile. 

“Oh okay,” was all he said in reply and then he sat back as far as he could on the couch. 

You decided to take a little mercy on him and cuddle into his side, keeping your eyes on the screen but saying, “It’s starting to get a little more scary.” “Uh huh,” Javi said, his breath getting heavier as he watched a girl in the movie start moving unnaturally. 

You put your hand on his thigh to comfort him, but it just made him jump and you whispered a quick, “sorry,” and he grabbed your hand in his to hold it. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, but then the movie got scarier and he started squeezing your hand harder until it hurt. 

Trying to preserve your hand and give him another way of coping with the movie, you said, “Um, Javi, I’m a little uncomfortable and kinda cold. Can I sit on your lap—?”

“–yes,” Javi interjected before you even finished answering the question and you got up. He moved so he was more in the corner of the couch and you sat in front of him with your back to his front. You weren’t really on his lap, just right in front of him, but you thought that would work better over a longer period of time. 

No sooner were you sitting than one of the characters started speaking in tongues and attacking the other characters. Javi’s hands became tight on your waist and you felt something bump into your shoulder. His forehead, you thought, from hiding his face. Which was very cute of him. 

A few minutes went by and your breathing even picked up a little as the events of the movie got more intense. Then, somehow, you became aware of two changes to your and Javi’s situation. One was that his hands were no longer firmly on your waist. They both seemed to be creeping upward and forward and you wondered if he would try to play off copping a feel as a comfort thing. The other was that you could now feel something against the small of your back that had not been there a minute ago. 

First you wondered how he could get so horny when he was so scared. Then you wondered if maybe he was so horny because he was scared. It was definitely something interesting and something you would have to investigate. Later, though. 

Now, despite not wanting to give in without teasing him more, the movie was taking a turn for something that would kill the mood and, unfortunately, just the feel of Javi’s hands trying to feel you up and his hard on against your back was enough to get you in the mood. Damn this perpetually fuckable man. 

“Javi?” 

“Yeah?” he didn’t lift his head to respond and again you found it endearing. 

“This movie is starting to freak me out. Do you wanna go to your bedroom and fool around instead?” you said bluntly, hoping some of it would rub off on him in the future. 

That got his attention. He sat up and reached for the remote without another word. In seconds, the two of you were rushing down the hallway, but just before you ran in and got on his bed, he stopped at the doorway and put his hand out. 

“One condition, though,” he said, looking at you through the dark of the night and looking kind of worried. 

“Yeah, honey? Anything” you said, curious what was wrong. 

“The lights have to stay on.”

🎃🎃🎃

[happi-tree]

hunter’s mark, reversed

You never forget your first kill, they always say. 

What the monster manuals and hunting guides and mentors forget to say is that sometimes, your first kill never forgets you, either. 

Grant trudges to the master bathroom, attempting to muss his hair out of its unruly bedhead. He flicks on the lights, runs the water, lets the cool chill of it splash against his face and rouse him into a loose definition of wakefulness. Washes his face, turns off the water, looks in the mirror as he pats his face dry. 

His own reflection stares at him, tired. 

His eyes veer to his right, where a pair of vacant, milky white eyes look back.

Or: Grant Wilson, and the things that haunt him.

ao3

This is my fic for @dndadsfanweeks' Halloween Week day 6: ghosts. Like previous days, this is part of the supernatural au @llumimoon, @kaseyskat, and I planned out together. Content warnings for blood, gore, death, and general angstiness.

Hunter’s Mark (reversed): You choose kill a creature you can see within range and it mystically marks it you as your its quarry. Until the spell ends, you it deals an extra 1d6 psychic damage to the target whenever you hit it with a weapon attack, and you have disadvantage on any Wisdom (Perception) or Wisdom (Survival) check you make to find it.

-Ranger Spell List, D&D 5th ed.

You never forget your first kill, they always say. 

What the monster manuals and hunting guides and mentors forget to say is that sometimes, your first kill never forgets you, either. 

Grant trudges to the master bathroom, attempting to muss his hair out of its unruly bedhead. He flicks on the lights, runs the water, lets the cool chill of it splash against his face and rouse him into a loose definition of wakefulness. Washes his face, turns off the water, looks in the mirror as he pats his face dry. 

His own reflection stares at him, tired. 

His eyes veer to his right, where a pair of vacant, milky white eyes look back, expressionless, framed by dark locs and pallored skin. 

“Hi, Yeet,” Grant says softly. 

You never forget your first kill. 

You never forget your first crush, either. 

And for Grant Wilson, he’s unlucky enough that those two people ended up one and the same. 

There is no response from the boy in the mirror, just a blank, glassy stare, like one of the taxidermied animal heads that had decorated the walls of his grandma’s house. 

(As a little kid, he’d always thought their severed heads and marble eyes were a bit uncomfortable to look at, a bit creepy. He would make a game in his head of seeing how long he could be in the family room at night before he chickened out and turned the lights on. It was good, harmless fun, to look at the things Grandpa Frank had shot and convince himself that they were watching him from somewhere beyond the veil.)

(That was before he met Yeet, of course. Before his father had pulled him aside and told Grant what Grandpa Frank had told him.)

“Honey,” Marco calls from beyond the bathroom, and his husband’s soothing voice manages to pull him from his thoughts, just a little. His white-knuckle grip on the edge of the sink loosens (when had he grabbed it?). 

“Hey, I’m headed out to work,” Marco says, poking his head in through the doorway. 

The sight of Grant’s favorite person relaxes him further.

(He tries not to think about the way he had looked with a bullet wound between his eyes in his dream last night, his eyes fog-covered and glass-marbled, his jaw slack and dripping with gore.)

Grant feels Marco’s stubble brush along his cheekbone as his husband gives him a quick peck. 

“Okay,” Grant hears himself say, although it feels like his head is underwater (it feels like his head is stuck twenty-five years in the past.) “Love you.”

Marco’s eyebrows knit together above his half-moon glasses. Grant hates and loves in equal measure the way that his husband can read him so well, even when he’s busy and frazzled from his morning routine. Some sort of witchy ability of his, he’s sure. 

The concern in those onyx-flint eyes make Grant want to run and hide, sometimes, to cower and shy away like a prey animal under the weight of his affection. 

Grant stays still, though. He’s gotten better at that (at least, that’s what Marco tells him).

“You sound awful.”

“Good morning to you, too, sweetheart,” Grant says, trying to inject some lightheartedness into his voice.

“The adjustments I made to the sleeping draught didn’t work much, huh,” Marco frets.

Grant sighs. “Yeah.” Among other things.

His gaze slides to the mirror again: his warm, wonderful, magical husband on his left, a ghostly shade of a boy on his right. Grant in the middle, somewhere between living and dead, between predator and prey.

Marco follows his gaze, sees the way it lands on negative space.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I could always try an exorcism,” he muses, squinting at the silver-backed pane like he’s trying to force himself to see what Grant does.

“Too risky,” Grant says, like he has every other time Marco has offered. “He lashed out a lot, when I was younger. I wouldn’t want him to hurt you.”

It’s true. In the first few months - years - afterward, Yeet was a complete poltergeist. Gusts of wind would rip through every corridor of his childhood home, piercing shrieks and wordless screams echoing right next to his ears, those milky-white eyes narrowed in fury as wave upon wave of pity-disgust-betrayal-anger-fear reached through to his chest with icy cold fingers, emotions that were his burden but not his own siphoning between his ribs and pulling .

Phantom blood had drenched his teenage hands, red and sticky and awful but also strangely beautiful, congealing into chunks around shaking joints, caking into his fingernails, and Grant would pick at the skin there until it bled anew, as if disposing of the flaking crimson would absolve him of his sins.

Grant has long since rid himself of Catholic guilt. His own is more than any god could give him, now, and he watches as the red fills his peripheral vision, leaving gory smears on the countertop, worming its way into every line of his palm. Its counterpart blooms from Yeet’s chest, flowering and spreading outward, mesmerizing in a way that Grant knows he shouldn’t find pretty.

Marco exhales, places a hand atop his, unlatches it from the edge of the sink (fuck, he had been gripping it too hard again, hadn’t he), interlocks their fingers together. The red doesn’t spread to him.

(Grant hopes it never will. Grant hopes that, at the end of things, he will be buried, soaked in blood and gore, a sponge for all the violence so that his family, his friends, his pack, never have to live in fear again.)

“Okay,” Marco says, calmly, firmly.

Too many people have treated Grant like he is fragile, one moment away from breaking. Blessedly, Marco has never been one of them.

“I’m fine,” Grant says. “I’m fine, Marco.”

“It’s okay not to be,” Marco says, infuriatingly patient for someone who was about to rush out the door.

“You’re going to be late,” he evades.

“Time is relative, dear,” Marco responds, the air tingeing with a very specific mirage of color that Grant has long since learned to identify as his husband’s magic. There’s a slight upturn to his mouth, and Grant can’t help but lean into him and fit his lips to the seam of his smile.

Marco’s hands come to grasp at his waist, grounding, steadying, and the air smells less like a bloodstained forest night and more like clementines and jasmine. 

When Grant pulls away, there is no blood where his fingers cup his husband’s jaw, nor where his hand fists in his clean shirt.

“There you are,” Marco murmurs, smiling gently, and fuck, Grant does not deserve him in the slightest.

(He doesn’t need the lone boy in the mirror, rigor-mortis-frozen at age thirteen, to tell him that. Although the phantasmal reminder certainly doesn’t hurt.)

“You sure you’re gonna be okay to drive Lincoln to school?” Marco asks.

At the edge of his hearing, Grant can hear the uncoordinated puttering of their son in the kitchen, attempting to prepare his breakfast with only his feet.

He smiles, and it feels a little less fake on his face. “Yeah, I can handle it. It’s his first day, I can’t not drive our little boy!”

“Alright,” Marco says, pecking him again on the cheek and turning to leave before pausing at the threshold.

“Oh,” he says. “Before I forget and you freak out, Lincoln and I did some arts and crafts yesterday.”

“Friendship bracelets?” Grant asks.

“Yep.”

There’s a cold breeze only he can feel. “And they work?”

Marco cocks his head to one side. “No reason why they shouldn’t. Iron to ward off fae, silver for werewolves, even soaked the strings in holy water to throw something anti-demonic in there,” he lists. “And of course, imbued with good intent.”

 “Of course,” Grant echoes. 

“I can tell you’re thinking,” his husband says.

Grant hums. “Public school’s gonna be good for Lincoln, it’s just - are we going too far with the precautions?” He frowns. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“I mean, he’s going to find out eventually,” Marco says. “Whether or not he hears it from us.”

“I don’t want that to happen.”

“It’s going to, one way or another,” his husband asserts, frown clashing against his smile lines.

“I know, I know,” Grant sighs. “It’s just-”

There’s so much blood on Grant’s hands, passed down from his father and his father’s father, monster hunter to monster hunter to monster hunter. (Grant’s idea of a monster has shifted, as his father’s had, but the rush of the hunt remains regardless). The red will spread, as the red always does.

He can only hope it doesn’t stain his son’s hands. He can only hope it doesn’t ooze from his son’s ruptured heart. 

Marco’s features soften. “I know,” he says. (He shouldn’t have to know.) “He’s growing up too fast.”

“Yeah,” Grant agrees.

“If you think the bracelets are too much, though, I don’t think he’s packed yet.”

Grant’s vision is drawn once more to the figure in the mirror. Yeet regards him silently, mouth agape in a silent scream of betrayal. His ghostly form still bears the marks of a witch hunter, wooden stakes and crucifixes and torches that Grant didn’t let him set ablaze. 

He looks, and Yeet morphs before his eyes, locs shortening to dark, fluffy curls, close-cropped at the sides, freckles appearing on boyish, rounded cheeks and lanky limbs. The ghost looks a lot like Lincoln.

Yeet smiles wickedly, and blood pools from the corner of his mouth, runs down his spectral chin.

“No, no, the bracelets are a good idea,” Grant says, eyes not leaving the mirror. “Thank you for helping make them.”

“Not a problem, honey,” Marco says, squeezing his shoulder and dragging him back to the living “All good to go?”

“I need to get dressed, first,” Grant responds, gesturing at his loose t-shirt and boxers.

“I’ll leave you to it, then, I really do have to go,” He says. “I’m gonna wish Lincoln good luck, and then I’m off!”

“Okay,” Grant says, already moving to grab his sweater and slacks for his shift at the library later today. “Love you.”

“Love you, too!” Marco replies, immediate and ever-present, an answer to a question Grant doesn’t deserve to ask. “And Grant?”

“Hm?”

“Lincoln will be fine,” Marco reassures. “Trust me. I have a good feeling about this.”

“I hope so.”

The boy in the full-length mirror stares at him, hovering just at his right, and Grant avoids looking at him.

God, I really hope so. 

[grelleswife]

Hey this is maybe a strange request but I was wondering if you had any good anime recommendations ?

I've been watching JJK and I've been left feeling a bit disappointed with the writing (it feels kinda all of the place and it feels like characters are dying just for the sake of dying)

So I'm kinda looking for something with darker themes and also maybe with supernatural elements, but that gives all the characters good arcs and development and also maybe is a bit on the happier side?

But honestly anything will do I'm just looking for some new stuff

I've been thinking of watching Vanitas no Carte so that one's already on my list

Hi, anon! I understand your frustration; the despair of the Shibiya arc had become rather gratuitous by the end of Season 2. :/

VnC was one of the first shows that came to mind while I was reading your ask, so you’re already ahead of the curve! Content warnings I recall off the top of my head include child death, nonconsensual blood drinking (which carries certain unpleasant implications in vampire media), use of children for scientific experimentation, and unsavory dynamics (aka the man repeatedly disregarding the woman’s boundaries) in the canon m/f pairing. However, the quality of the story and its unmistakable queerness still make Vanitas no Carte a worthwhile watch, in my opinion. And the manga is even better!

Some other recommendations I can think of, albeit with varying ratios of darkness to good character development and happy moments, are listed below. Please note that content warnings provided are based off my hazy recollections and thus are not comprehensive.

Mushishi

Though existing beyond the realm of human perception, the diverse array of primitive lifeforms known as mushi can warp their surroundings—and the people inhabiting them—in bizarre, sometimes frightening ways. As a mushishi, Ginko is one of the rare few who can see and interact with these creatures, and travels Japan lending assistance to those struggling to coexist with the mushi. Suffused with a quiet melancholy, this anime is perfect to watch on a rainy day with a cup of tea in hand.

Content warnings: Body horror

Mononoke

Nope, not the Studio Ghibli film that gave birth to the classic “I’ll cut your throat” ship meme. This 2007 anime follows the enigmatic and possibly immortal Kusuriuri (medicine seller) as he helps people impacted by mononoke, malevolent spirits that latch onto negative emotions. However, he can only dispel these spirits by uncovering their true nature and the reason for the appearance, forcing him to play detective along the way. Though a spiritual cousin of sorts to Mushishi, the two shows vary radically in style: Whereas Mushishi’s color palettes tend to be earthy and subdued, Monoke’s animation pushes the envelope with a dizzying, gaudy spectacle that could have come straight out of a drug-induced nightmare.

Content warnings: Violence (including violence against women), discussions of forced abortion, body horror, a highly questionable relationship between a monk and his sister, eyestrain (the colors are gorgeous but can be a bit overwhelming at times)

Otherside Picnic

College students Sorawo Kamikoshi and Toriko Nishina team up to periodically explore the Otherside, a parallel universe where urban legends pose all-too-real threats, growing closer over the course of their adventures. Fans of the light novels on which this 12-episode anime is based have criticized the differences in tone between the adaptation and the source material, complaining that the anime tends to come across as a bit goofier. However, as someone who went into the series blind, I had a fun time! Otherside Picnic also numbers among the rare examples of sapphic anime with adult protagonists, although most of Sorawo’s and Toriko’s relationship is relegated to slow-burn due to the short run time. Their black cat/golden retriever dynamic is still a joy to behold!

Content warnings: Occasional gun violence, body horror

Death Parade

The souls of the recently deceased are pitted against eachother in nerve-wracking games meant to uncover the darkest corners of their psyches so that beings known as arbiters may pass judgement on their fate—reincarnation, or eternity in the void. Alongside his assistant, Chiyuki, the arbiter Decim begins to gain greater insight into humanity while starting to question the very role for which he was created. This underrated gem will probably reduce you to a puddle of tears at least once, so have a box of tissues ready.

Content warnings: Violence, assault, suicide, depictions of alcohol use (much of the action takes place at an otherworldly bar)

Noragami

Hiyori Iki’s ordinary middle school life is turned upside down when a bus accident weakens the link between her body and soul, enabling her to perceive the gods and spirits in our midst…including Yato, a brash yet destitute young god without a single shrine to his name. How will their fates intertwine? Written along a similar vein to Fruits Basket and Kamisama Kiss, Noragami charms the viewer with its sillier shenanigans while ripping your heartstrings to shreds during the darker moments. Although the manga (at least what I’ve read of it) is superior, and the anime only adapts a handful of the original arcs, it still holds its own. And the OPs are excellent! 👌

Content warnings: Body horror, child death, suicide

[lilareviewsbooks]

Books for Good Omens fans!

Are you emotionally scarred by the ending of season 2? Is the wait for season 3 going to be excruciating for you? Are you looking for something that’ll fill those voids? Look no further, Good Omens fan! I have some media for you to consume!

The Tea Dragon Series, starting with The Tea Dragon Society, by K. O’Neil

71 pages (first book)

Contains: tea magic!; a cute sapphic romance; queer rep all around :)

If you like Good Omens because of how fluffy it can be (though that season finale was not fluffy), I highly recommend this series! The Tea Dragon Society is a comic book trilogy following Greta, who is swept into the world of caring for tea dragons, tiny little creatures that grow tea leaves on their foreheads. 

As is the case with Good Omens, this trilogy includes a lot of queer representation. It’s written by a non-binary author, K. O’Neil, who introduces us to queer characters of all identities. Also much like Good Omens, there is no discussion of homophobia or transphobia. There’s also a sapphic romance between Greta and her love interest, which is very sweet! This is perfect if you need a pick-me-up after season 2, and if the fluffier aspects of Good Omens are your favorites!

The Greenhollow Duology, starting with a Silver In The Wood, by Emily Tesh

112 pages (first book)

Contains: the fae!!; enchanted woods; middle-aged gay people!!

If what brings you joy in Good Omens is it’s middle-aged leads, I give you Silver in the Wood, and its companion Drowned Country. These two stories are quite episodic – much like Crowley and Aziraphale’s little adventures – and feature a pair of middle-aged men who fall in love against the backdrop of supernatural things afoot.

Apart from representing the older portion of the queer community, The Greenhollow Duology is also brilliantly written and very atmospheric. It will place you inside the cottage where most of the action happens, and you will be able to feel the magic in the air. Both of the books are novellas, and so are quite short reads you can enjoy whenever!

A Series of Unfortunate Events, starting with The Bad Beginning, by Lemony Snicket

176 pages (first book)

Contains: adults that are incompetent; children that are very competent; quirky writing!

If your favorite aspect of Good Omens is its quirkiness, I give you: A Series of Unfortunate Events! This middle-grade series follows a trio of siblings as they are passed from distant relative to distant relative after their parents’ mysterious death, all the while being chased by the evil Count Olaf.

This series reminds me of Good Omens for its tongue-in-cheek humor. Mr. Snicket is a master at metatextual comedy, that is, making jokes about the text itself. I’ve always had a lot of fun reading his writing! A TV show adaptation of this series has been made, and it’s on Netflix, but I haven’t watched it all the way through and can’t speak to how good it is, but it’s worth a shot if you’re feeling like watching something! Though I have to warn you: no gay people here :( 

A Master of Djinn, by P. Djeli Clark

438 pages

Contains: alternate history; a steampunk Cairo; muslim rep!!

A Master of Djinn is for those among you who want to see gay people save the world. I give you: gay people saving the world. This one follows Agent Fatma of the Ministry of Alchemy, Enchantments and Supernatural Entities in an alternate, steampunk-y Cairo, where magic was brought to life by mage Al-Jahiz, many years ago. Fatma is faced with a mysterious murder and must join forces with her lover Siti to find out what happened – except it’s waaay more complicated than it seems…

I think this reminds me of Good Omens the most because there’s a very cool dynamic between Siti and Fatma. Much like Crowley and Aziraphale, they have opposing views on a lot of things, religion for instance, and must reconcile that with their love for one another. They’re also very much ride-or-die for each other, and go on many supernatural adventures together, just like our favorite couple in Good Omens! It also features elements of fantasy being woven into a “normal” world, in this case even affecting history as we know it, to build an alternate reality! 

But, be warned: there is discussion of homophobia and sexism in this book!

This is part of larger universe, namely the Dead Djinn Universe, which includes two other novellas. You can read them in this order, or choose to start with A Master of Djinn. The novel is self-contained and will explain everything you need to know!

The Mimicking of Known Successes, by Malka Older

169 pages

Contains: a murder mystery; a second chance romance; humans living on one of Jupiter’s moons!

Another one for gay people who just like a nice couple they can follow around as they unravel some intrigue, and who were desperately infatuated with “detective Aziraphale”: The Mimicking of Known Successes is a Sherlock Holmes-like story following Pleiti and Mossa, a couple of ex-girlfriends whose paths cross again when Mossa begins investigating a mysterious murder. This one takes place on a human colony in one of Jupiter’s moons, but, apart from that, is not very hard sci-fi. There’s not really any science-y bits that I can remember. Mostly, it’s just a murder mystery, but set in space!

It’s perfect for Good Omens fans who love following a couple with a long history. Not to mention, it also has an almost grumpy/sunshine dynamic that kinda reminds me of Crowley and Aziraphale. And since I know most of us Good Omens fans were once deep in the Sherlock trenches, I thought I’d add this one to cure your heart’s many, many wounds (oh, Steven Moffatt… One day, one day you will pay…)

This is not currently part of a series, but a second novella,  The Imposition of Unnecessary Obstacles, will be published in 2024.

That’s all I got, everyone! If you’d like some more books that, just like Good Omens, don’t delve into homophobia or transphobia, I have a whole list of books that fit the bill! :) 

[elvisabutler]

1K fluff prompt 7 based on your Selkie AU since they are big on smelling like home/the sea/each other

sea dog

fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: t pairing: elvis presley x female reader wordcount: 1393 warnings: mentions of seal skin. me playing fast and loose with selkie myth. jerry is a werewolf. mention of gambling. this is actually tame so i don't have too many warnings. author’s note: thank you for this anon! i don't know if you're the same anon who sent the angst prompt as well for the selkie au but know i'm working on that as well. just taking a bit longer because a certain @prompted-wordsmith helped me brainstorm/get out of my head a little with it so it might be a bit longer than the rest. it should be worth it. but anyway, super enjoyed this and loved writing it so i hope you enjoy it too! this is done for my 1k gala, based on fluff line “mmmh, you always smell amazing!” this is based on/in the same universe as the selkie au i wrote. not required to read it but it makes things make a lot more sense. y'all know the drill, real elvis or austin elvis works fine for this despite the moodboard.

The funny thing about being friends with a werewolf is that they have one of the best senses of smell out of all supernatural creatures and yet- and yet they're also the most easily fooled. Elvis likes to think that's why he never picked up on you smelling like his skin, smelling like the ocean breeze when you were in Las Vegas of all places. If you were gonna smell like anything it should have been Lake Mead. Jerry's excuse, bless him, was that he thought you were another selkie because your scent had been just different enough from Elvis's own still faintly there scent that he wasn't sure. Besides with how you two had danced around and slowly fallen for each other he- he didn't want to ruin that. He hadn't wanted to ruin the relationship he felt that you and Elvis had started to cultivate.

Call him a sucker for epic little romances. Still, nowadays he can tell the difference, tell how without Elvis's skin you don't smell like the sea. You don't smell like an Ocean breeze or anything like that. You smell like a normal human to him. A fact that Elvis disagrees with every time he wants Jerry to make sure things are normal with you when the two of you have to be seperated.

"Whatdya mean ya can't fuckin', Schilling, you got one damn job-" Elvis growls over the phone only to be cut off by Jerry answering with a growl of his own.

"I'm saying it's faint, Elvis. She's still here, but she's probably spending time in her old room, not the penthouse suite. I know you're made she couldn't come-"

"Damn right I am. We get outta Vegas, ain't trapped on dry land and she tells me she'll meet me in Paris? Like I'm supposed t' enjoy London all by myself. Next thing I know I'll be in Venice all alone too. Want t'enjoy Europe wit' her, not alone." Elvis's growl only gets stronger the more he speaks and by the end he's practically barking over the phone. Jerry shoots you a look as he holds the phone away from his ear and rolls his eyes.

"You know she's busy. You love her-" Jerry starts with a sigh before Elvis cuts him off again.

"She doesn't need to still be doin' it and she knows it! She knows I can- I wanna- I gotta treat my seal wife the way she deserves." You frown listening to the way Elvis talks, how it feels like the winds are leaving his sails. "Jus'- jus' feelin' lonely, Jer."

It's then that you almost spill the beans. It's then that you almost spill the beans and take the phone from Jerry and tell Elvis you're going to be in London tomorrow night but that would ruin the surprise so you bite your tongue and watch as Jerry shakes his head.

"I know, EP. She'll be with you in a few days, just- enjoy London, man. It's your first time there performing and for fun. Live a little." He spares a glance at you, noting how you make a face at live a little as he looks at the time. "Shit- I made plans. Listen, I catch her scent again I'll call ya."

Elvis's only response before he hangs up the phone is a subtle yeah yeah. Jerry looks at you once he hangs up and rubs at his temples. "You two are such a pain in my ass."

You shrug, grabbing the last of your stuff to shove into your bag. "At this point Jerry, I think the feeling is mutual with all three of us." You take a moment to sit on the suitcase and motion for Jerry to zip it up. "Help me out, sooner this gets done the sooner I'm out of your fluffy fur and into his fluffy hair."

The flight is exhausting and the next time you reserve the right to ask Elvis to just send the Lisa Marie to pick you up, damn the surprise entirely. It has already been arranged for you to be allowed access to Elvis's room at the hotel he's in purely because you knew you'd likely arrive during a show. From the moment you walk inside the building your own human nose catches a whiff of the sea that's unique to Elvis and a tension you didn't know was inside of you lessens its grip.

The scent only gets stronger until you reach his room and open it to smell what you've come to define as heaven. If you shut your eyes you can pretend you're on the beaches in Hawai‘i with his arms wrapped around you as you watch the sunset. It's a romantic image and one you find yourself pining for as if he's not your boyfriend. As if to him you're already a wife he just has to convince you to say yes to him, to legally bind yourself to him. Still, you miss him and the jet lag combined with that pining sort of feeling inside your chest has to flopping on the bed and passing out before you know it.

You wake up to warmth against you. Warmth and Elvis practically nuzzling your neck, ignoring how sweaty he is and how gross you probably are from your flight. It takes a moment for your senses to return to you but when they do you're struck by how he smells, how it makes you feel like wherever you are is home. Elvis's voice is a mumble against your skin as you turn over to face him, watching as he goes back to kissing and nuzzling your neck. "Smell so good- Missed this- Smell so amazin'. Always fuckin'-"

A giggle leaves your lips before you pull him up for a kiss, ignoring the sweat and the disgust of the grime you feel between you two. "Could say the same for you. Always smell so amazing. Clothes don't compare to-"

There's a glint in his eyes when he pulls away just slightly. "Ya been smellin' my clothes. Been gone for less than a week and ya smellin' my clothes." He teases before nuzzling at your neck again. "Nice surprise ya givin' me here, comin' early. Coulda told me."

"And miss waking up to this? To you acting like a happy wittle seal?" Your own tone is teasing but you mean no malice in it as your hand moves to run through his hair. "I finished early, missed my seal. Figured you deserved to see all this with me."

"Ya stayin' the whole tour?" His eyes widen, because at best you were supposed to stay for three cities, maybe a week at best not- not the whole tour. "Ya ain't- Ya ain't lyin'?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." Your answer is simple enough but has Elvis barking out a laugh that you only hear him let out as a seal as you grin when he pulls you up out of the bed and picks you up into a hug.

"I get to travel the world wit' ya. Get t'go swimmin' ev'ywhere with ya. Fuckin'-" His hands travel to the sides of your face as he pulls you in for a kiss. "Ain't gonna be able to tell our scents apart. Gonna feel at home every second."

You bite your lip a little. "That's kind of the point, Elvis. Can't have you getting another seal wife when you've got me."

For a moment he looks hurt until he realizes how your eyes are still smiling. You're joking and he swears in that moment more than any other one he's felt with you he realizes he's in love with you. Not because of any supernatural bullshit, but because you're you, the woman who managed to charm him with matching dresses to his jumpsuits and who got him back his life. He tilts his head slightly before pulling away, grabbing your hand as he does. He hums as he pulls you to the bathroom. "The European girls ain't got nothin' on ya. 'Sides, they ain't as much fun in the shower. Gonna join me?"

Your free hand moves to start undressing yourself as you allow yourself to be pulled. "As long as you don't try and shift. You're a bit of a handful as a seal."

"That was one goddamn time!"

[cherry-valentine]

Summer 2023 Anime Season

Here’s what I’m watching!

Shinigami Bocchan to Kuro Maid Season 2 has been adorable, just like season 1. It follows a young man who was cursed by a witch to kill any living thing he touches (clothes don’t prevent it so gloves are useless) and his beautiful maid who remains with him despite the danger, as well as a growing cast of characters who end up involved with them. Despite the grim premise, the show is overall lighthearted and sweet, more comedy than drama (though there are definitely some darker moments sprinkled throughout). Season 2 has been paying much more attention to the secondary couple of the series, Zain and Cuff, a pair of witches who have befriended the leads. They’re almost as cute as the main couple, so it’s been fun to watch their relationship develop (also I should note that they are a heterosexual couple, since “a pair of witches” might imply otherwise; there is a lesbian couple among the witches and they’re also adorable but they’re minor characters unfortunately). The show has always been about forming connections despite seemingly insurmountable obstacles, and I appreciate that these connections come in many forms, from romance to friendships to family ties. It’s a big hearted show with fun design work and cute music. The animation is CG and, well, it doesn’t always look great, but it’s not hideous and I’ve seen far worse. If you can look beyond the animation style, you’ll find an extremely endearing show.

Bungou Stray Dogs is on season 5… I think? Regardless, it remains one of the best anime I’ve seen in recent years. Once a show gets to this many seasons I feel like a plot summary is unnecessary. As I’ve said countless times already about this show, its true charm lies in its ability to blend all its different aspects into a satisfying experience without those different aspects distracting from each other. It can be hilarious, then heartbreaking, then thrilling, all within a few minutes of screen time and without diluting any of those feelings. It also does a great job of stacking the deck against the protagonists so that there’s a sense of tension and danger even when you’re fairly certain they will survive. One of the best things about this series, however, is that things don’t usually boil down to two guys punching each other to settle all the plot points. There are special abilities and characters with super strength and speed and of course that leads to a lot of cool battles, but there’s usually a lot more going on. There are nefarious plots and unique abilities with even more unique applications and characters engaging in mental warfare and chase sequences and cat and mouse games and so many other things besides straight up fights. This season in particular has highlighted these elements. The animation and design work are fantastic. The opening and ending themes are awesome (especially that opening holy shit). I wish everyone would try this series.

Undead Girl Murder Farce is a detective series with a supernatural twist. The detective in question is Aya, an immortal disembodied head being carried in a birdcage by her two attendants, a sharpshooting maid named Shizuku and an oni. The oni is Tsugaru, a somewhat jovial and laidback human-demon hybrid with incredible strength and the ability to kill or at least damage other supernatural creatures. In this world, pretty much all mythological creatures exist, from vampires to werewolves to even fictional characters like Sherlock, Frankenstein, Dracula, and the Phantom of the Opera. The overarching plot of the series is about Aya and her companions traveling through Europe in search of her missing body, solving cases involving supernatural creatures along the way. Aya herself is an interesting character, being intelligent enough to give Sherlock a run for his money while being lighthearted enough to joke about her own body-less predicament. Tsugaru is also a delight. He takes pretty much everything in stride and has an entertainer’s mannerisms, but he’s monstrously strong and his bond with Aya and Shizuku is charming to watch. The art and animation look great. The backgrounds are lovely and the clothing designs in particular are very pleasing. It has my favorite opening theme of the season and my second favorite ending theme. Highly recommended.

My Happy Marriage is another new series this season. Set during the Meiji Restoration period, the story focuses on an unfortunate young woman named Miyo. She’s basically Cinderella, abused and treated like a slave by her wicked stepmother and half sister (though in this story her father is just as bad) after her mother passed away when she was a child. Miyo is seen as useless because she has no supernatural abilities in a world where all the prominent families have them. Seemingly in an attempt to get rid of her, her family shoves her into an arranged marriage with a man named Kiyoka who is notoriously cruel and has frightened off several potential brides already. Since this is a sweet romance anime at its core, the rumors about Kiyoka have been greatly exaggerated (he’s gorgeous and super kind, which really shouldn’t be a spoiler if you’re familiar with any kind of romance tropes). But just because Miyo lucked out in the husband department doesn’t mean her life is suddenly perfect. There are lots of different forces at work, from jealous family members to political machinations. Plus there’s a lifetime of trauma for poor Miyo to deal with, which is handled in a sensitive and realistic way. The show overall is wholesome and definitely a slow burn, but that makes sense. Trauma doesn’t go away when your life improves. The series has a lot of other things going on concerning the abilities of different families and political maneuvering, but I enjoy it most when it’s just about Miyo and Kiyoka developing their relationship. The animation is beautiful, with a soft color palette and lovely backgrounds. Recommended if you like romance in historical settings and don’t mind some supernatural shenanigans.

Jujutsu Kaisen is on season 2, and this season has two very distinct arcs (punctuated by a three week break between them). The first arc is a prequel story showing the teenage years of Gojo, the protagonist’s arrogant but fun teacher from season 1. This arc has two primary purposes: to show Gojo becoming the absurdly overpowered beast we saw in the first season and to show his best friend Geto’s trauma-fueled descent into villainy. Both were handled exceedingly well and at this point they’re probably the five best episodes of the series. I had watched and enjoyed season 1 but honestly didn’t think much about the series after it was over. But these episodes? They made me a full blown fan. They made me go read the manga and get completely caught up in two days (to be fair I skimmed some stuff pertaining to characters I’m not super into). Since they’re a prequel story, I’d even feel good recommending that someone start with them, just to see what this show is capable of. Because the animation is mind blowing. It looks like movie-budget animation. The music is perfection (my favorite ending theme of the season). It’s just a very slick, cool package. I don’t have a lot to say about the second arc of the season because it just started, but if it follows the manga closely it will be amazing. The Shibuya Incident arc is one of the best arcs in modern shounen, taking place all in one night (Halloween night! I was sold right there!) and having some of the most gut wrenching moments in the series. So I expect great things. That new opening is an absolute banger too. Highly recommended.

Best of Season:

Best New Series: Undead Girl Murder Farce

Best Opening Theme: Undead Girl Murder Farce

Best Ending Theme: Jujutsu Kaisen (first half)

Best New Male Character: Tsugaru (Undead Girl Murder Farce)

Best New Female Character: Aya (Undead Girl Murder Farce)

[felteverywhere]

here’s a plot wishlist of things i’m thinking about lately but would prefer to plot than write opens for. i’d also prefer to plot on discord but it’s not entirely necessary since obviously i’ll be writing on this account. some of them are kind of variations of the same thing but i think it makes it clear what kind of stuff i really love lmao. if you like this i’ll im you, but even if you like a lot of them it would be amazing if you could whittle it down to 2-3 tops. reblogging and messaging people when i’m online in the morning!

hot & heavy by lucy dacus inspired — the angst of your first love, homoerotic teenage best friend angst coming back to haunt you, bitterness and nostalgia mingling in the worst way, you hate her and you still love her after all this time. optional: period piece (70s, 80s, 90s, early 00s), a dead friend dragging them back to town, one of them is still closeted. 

fear street inspired — small towns where dark, horrible things have happened and keep happening but not everyone can afford to clear out, young people taking on a legacy of evil in the name of love, the truth of the past being unearthed, the loss along the way. optional: period piece (90s), we can run with something similar to fear street in terms of why the killers exist or come up with our own thing. 

college sleuths — a body found in a classroom or maybe an old unsolved mystery, a small campus cradled by woods and hidden from the world, a desperate need to uncover what everyone else wants to cover up, a righteousness or maybe an obligation to the dead, an eventual game of cat and mouse as they creep closer to the truth. optional: literally everything i listed can be tweaked, i just love the idea of a pair of people (even reluctantly) solving a murder. 

scooby doo inspired, college cryptid/supernatural hunters  — they’re the only ones who believe and maybe that’s okay, could be a mumu/could utilise npc characters if we’d like a group. optional: more of a buffy style scooby gang who are solving problems/include creatures in it. 

dark academia, the secret history inspired  — 

zombie apocalypse romance... with a twist on top of that — what’s more romantic than finding your soulmate at the end of the world? well, i guess if she’s also an unhinged person who will murder humans too, if they cross her. finding out she killed her last s/o somehow doesn’t phase you. basically: muse a has met someone after so long alone but muse b is a little crazy and they get into shenanigans. 

thoroughbreds inspired — unsettling girls forming a strange bond in rekindling a childhood friendship, uncomfortable step fathers, murder as a tool to solve problems rather than a ghastly act, taking blame as a romantic gesture. gifset for fun inspo. 

a return to the hurt/comfort fanfic tag. i’d like to explore deeper things while also dealing with the relationship between two characters. optionally but not limited to: grief, abuse (tentatively and with discussion about parameters), child custody issues, divorce, etc. 

this post but like no really, let’s write it. 

people who believe they are impossible to love pushing away the one who is demanding that they let them in!!!! not strong enough by boygenius vibes also 

an affair happening in a position of power, in a place it absolutely shouldn’t, where everything could turn to crap if they gave in but... they really can’t help themselves. people who are slaves to their own feelings no matter how toxic they are with one another. bad people being so passionately and deeply in love that it destroys everything. oh also this. 

still would kick things over for a normal people plot. i’ll never be over it!! never!! gifset for visual. shame and regret almost overpowering love but not quite, hurting each other, miscommunication, all the things. “i'm not a religious person but i do sometimes think god made you for me.” it should be illegal for someone to say that but jeez i am obsessed with it. 

someone truly deranged and evil and bloodthirsty and the only one who can stop them, but also the only one who can understand them. the only one who knows them. the only one who loves them? ah?

figure skating partners for carling i beg on my knees. fc optional i honestly might change her regardless. 

more song inspo without long winded thoughts: reckless driving by lizzy mcalpine, taken by muna, holding back/crowded places/waiting game by banks, forever winter/tis the damn season/cowboy like me by taylor swift but also really any taylor swift song.