#a tale of the devil and his angel | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

youraverageaemondsimp · 6 months ago

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“Thou Shalt Not Covet.” // Angel!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Human!Reader

Summary: An angel's duty is to protect and guide humans; never to desire them, for it is a sin. Yet Aemond, the most trusted angel of God, finds himself yearning and desiring for you, a human.

WARNINGS: nsfw, mdni, smut, dubious consent(?), afab! human!fem!reader x angel!aemond, masturbation (m.) unprotected p in v sex, tiddy sucking, fingering, cunnilingus/oral (f. receiving), forbidden relationship, body worship, blasphemy(?), creampie, cumming inside breeding kink, slightly disturbing content at the end, religious themes. + NOT PROOFREAD

WC: 4.5k

A/N: so I'm officially breaking my hiatus with this piece, I know I haven't posted for over two months and I apologize for that! Exams and everything practically ate my life away! // divider creds to @cafekitsune

God's most trusted angel, Aemond Targaryen, was no ordinary angel. He was sincere, always performing his duties without fail. He was respected amongst his peers, the most obedient angel of god.

Lately there have been rumours about the curse of being God's favourite, whispers about the old tale that all knew very well started resurfacing, the tale of the fallen angel. An incident that is now used as a way to warn angels from disobeying God and trudging the path of temptation.

Must all angels that were favoured by God fall into the way of sin? It has happened before, it might happen again.

Aemond decided that he would never be like that, he wants to prove that he is nothing like the fallen angel and how being God's favourite angel is not a curse, but rather a blessing.

And he did just that. Until a day arrived when he was sent to the land below on an urgent mission.

Aemond was reluctant to descend down to the land of people but he had to on the order of God, his mission was simple, to guide humanity through the famine that was occurring along with the drought that was caused by the devil to wreak havoc amongst the villagers. Messing with God's treasured creations has always been the devil's hobby after all.

And so he disguised himself as a human, helping men, women, children alike to recover, he blessed the land with fertility so that the land could produce crops once again. It was not an easy task, he had spent many weeks on the land, learning how humans function and go about their life which was quite a contrast to angels.

He also learnt how frail the human body is, how much energy is required to perform tasks and an unfamiliar feeling of hunger which he never felt when he was an angel. Every sensation was new to him but he overcame all the difficulties in order to finish his duty.

At least, that is what he had thought…

“Ser?! Are you okay?!” A voice shrieked in shock as he blinked his eye open to see an unfamiliar face with the look of concern staring down at him. You noticed how pale his face was and how dull his features looked, his lips were dry and chapped.

You were just taking a walk through the forest in search of medicinal herbs when you encountered this man lying unconscious in the middle of the path which made you panic thinking he was dead. You sighed in relief when he opened his eye.

“What happened to me?” He asks confused and you furrow your brows, “You fainted.” You tell him and he sighs “Why? I have been eating well though.” He mutters to himself and you clear your throat, you noticed how his face showed signs of dehydration earlier so you end up asking him a question “Did you drink water?” to which he replies with a “No, why?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose in disbelief, “Water is an essential thing to survive, you fainted because of dehydration.” You explain his situation to him and he lets out an annoyed sigh, “Ugh, why are human bodies so frail and require so much material to sustain oneself?” He grumbles and you stare at him confused.

“Whatever, drink this.” You give your pouch of water and he drinks it greedily unknowingly, emptying the entire sac, he hands it back to you. Aemond tries standing up but immediately stumbles, however you catch him just in time so he doesn't fall. “It seems the dehydration was worse than we thought, my house is nearby, let me take care of you.” You offer him help and he just simply nods, “Lean onto me okay?” You instruct him and he does as you say. You lead him to your house.

It was a small house amidst the woods but not further inside, you opened the wooden door with one hand and pushed it with your foot and led both you and the man inside. You opened the door to your small bedroom and took him inside, helping him lay on the bed.

“Please rest comfortably.” You smile at him and he nods, “I will go and prepare medicinal tea so you can recover.” You inform him before getting up and reaching the exit.

“Wait!” He calls out and you turn around with a questioning look, “May I get your name?” he asks politely and you give him a small smile, “It's Y/N” You tell him and he smiles back at you, “ ‘Y/N’ such a pretty name.” He mutters to himself before looking at you, “Thank you Y/N.” He appreciates you genuinely which makes your heart flutter and you give him a nod. “What is your name?” You ask out of courtesy “Aemond.” He replies with a slight smile and your eyes widen, “Oh like the angel!” You affirm and he nods, “Like the angel, yes.”

“You have such an amazing name, that too it being after God's favourite angel.” You compliment him genuinely and he nods shyly. You take that as a cue to leave the room and prepare the tea for him.

Tying your beige apron; you quickly pull out the jar of dried hibiscus petals from the wooden shelf before taking a few of the petals and grinding them slightly, you added those grinded petals into the bot of boiling water and let it simmer for a minute before blowing off the fire and straining the liquid into a wooden cup.

You carry the hot beverage into the room only to find Aemond asleep, ‘his body must've been overly worked without any water’ you smile to yourself before placing the cup down onto the table, the slight noise startling and waking Aemond up from his slumber.

“Oh I apologise, I did not know that the noise would startle you.” You say in a slightly amused voice and he shakes his head, “It's alright.” he replies. “I bought the tea, you can drink it when it cools down.” You point at the cup on the table next to the bed and he nods, “Thank you.” He appreciates your hospitality.

You give him a small smile and he returns it, and then the room falls silent, awkward tension filling the air. You clear your throat in an attempt to break the tension before speaking up “So… I've never seen you around this area before or in the town, are you new here?” You question him.

“Mhm, I just recently got into this town after hearing the news of famine spreading here.” He answers truthfully, he had been going around the area into multiple villages and towns, solving the famine.

“Ah yes, there has been a shortage of food supplies since our land did not produce any crop this year.” You say sadly, thinking about how all the once healthy people in the town now look starved and unhealthy because of the shortage of food.

Aemond notices your sadness immediately and he grabs your hand, wanting to reassure you but the moment his skin comes in contact with yours, he feels electricity shoot up his spine that makes him retreat his hand immediately.

“Are you okay?” You ask concerned, reaching out for his hand. His breath hitches when you touch him, you examine his hand thinking something happened to it, all the while he's trying to control his breathing.

Why does his body feel hot when you touch him?

He gives you a quick nod and pulls his hand away from your grip and grabs the drink in order for the gesture to not seem rude, but luckily for him you don't dwell on it too much.

“Famines and Drought occur when the devil wants to mess with God, something he does for attention while thousands of people are affected.” Aemond grits his teeth, thinking about the reason why many humans are dying and you look at him confused, “And in these times of difficulty, many forget to pray, because all of their time is spent surviving, which further weakens the protection of the land.” He continues.

“So what do we do?” You ask confused.

“Pray, I was going to go to the centre of the village and start praying so that the rain falls tomorrow, but… I ended up like this.” He says embarrassed.

“Do you think God will really help us?” You question and he's shocked and offended by that question but he holds his composure, “He will. Have faith in him.” He tells you and you nod.

“Since you said you were new, you are free to stay in this house, besides you need to recover as well.” You offer him and his eye widens, “I can't, you've already done too much for me.” He refuses but you shake your head, “It's alright aemond, I was starting to stray from the path of God due to the recent problems, but after meeting you, I'm somehow comforted that everything will be alright, a feeling which I haven't felt since the start of the drought.” You admit honestly and he stares at you in awe.

And so you let him stay in your house.

You and Aemond have gotten undoubtedly closer, realising how you both held the same values and opinions, you helped Aemond spread the word of God and soon just like he said, the rain fell and the land began to recover.

You both were currently looking outside the window as the gentle drizzle of rain fell elegantly outside, making the lush greenery of the trees stand out and the smell of wet mud provided a deep comfort to your soul.

“You were right, Aemond.” You smiled at him and he smiled back, using his angelic powers in his human body exhausts him out, especially since the body of the human is so frail and weak, so he often has to recover in your house, but you just thought that it was because of dehydration like the first time.

You looked outside in awe, meanwhile Aemond stared at you instead, your face extremely beautiful as if you had been specially crafted by God himself, your eyes shone as brightly as the stars in the night sky and your hair that cascaded down your back like a waterfall. He couldn't stop admiring you.

He watched as your lips parted when you let out a satisfied sigh, wondering how they'd taste, would they be sweet as they look? He wanted to taste you.

His eye widened in realisation at his own behaviour and thoughts, mind spiralling down a hole knowing that he shouldn't be thinking this way, his closed his eye and took a deep breath, trying to push off all the feelings away but when he opened his eye back again, he was faced with you who looked at him ever so concerningly.

The warm feeling in his heart only growing stronger each and every moment. “Aemond? Is everything alright?” You ask and he nods, “Yeah everything is fine, it's just..” ‘I wanna kiss you.’ He wants to say it so badly, “I just feel under the weather.” He lies.

He lied.

Aemond never lied.

You find it odd but brush it off and leave the matter at that, focusing on the rain outside once again watching as the droplets trailed down the window.

Aemond feels hot on the inside, a burning sensation of itchiness that urges to be scratched, he excuses himself and goes into the bedroom, saying he needs rest, once again, a lie, he shuts the door to the room and you're left alone in the living space.

Deciding not to think much, you began cooking lunch, making soup for the hundredth time.

Aemond leans against the door, breathing heavily as his body grows hotter and hotter every moment, there's a weird sensation between his legs that makes it hard for him to focus on anything else, he looks at the bulge in his pants and touches it, wincing at the electricity that shoots through him.

It's painful.

He knows that whatever he's feeling is wrong.

But it's too painful to bear.

He closes his eyes trying to collect himself but he cannot contain himself, and so he slowly grabs the bulge giving it slight squeezes for it to stop the feeling but not enough to make it go away.

Why is the human body like this?

Why couldn't he control his desires like he did when he was in his angel form?

He slowly pushed his hand down the material of the breeches and held his cock, he grips it which makes him choke out a moan at the sensation.

It felt good.

And so he slowly starts stroking it up and down, curiously experimenting by brushing his thumb against the tip which causes him to whimper, he clasps his own mouth shut at the noise he made but doesn't stop stroking himself.

Muffled noises of soft moans fill the room as he touches himself wondering why the feeling isn't going away, he strokes himself faster which causes him to throw his head back against the door with a loud thud.

“... Aemond?” Your voice makes him stop all of his movements, “Y-yeah?” He replies, trying to sound normal, “I'm making soup, is that okay?” You inquired for his opinion and he replied a choked “Yes.”

He hears your footsteps walk away from the door and he continues to stroke himself, the memory of you calling out his name doing wonders to his imagination as he pictures you moaning his name beneath him, he rubs himself faster, grip tightening on his cock envisioning that he's fucking into your cunt instead of his own hand.

And before he can comprehend the imagery; he feels an immense amount of pleasure shoot through his entire body, making him see white and let out a loud muffled moan of your name o as he feels the wet liquid spurt out of his cock and onto his hand.

He's trembling by the time he's done, looking down at his now unclean hand, white liquid dripping down his palm, the situation of what he had done weighing heavily upon him, the feeling of dread seeping into his body- and so he lets out a soft sigh.

What has he done?

He quickly finds a cloth to wipe himself off and uses the water in the bowl beside the table to wash his hands, he sees his own reflection in the water, feeling disgusted at what he had done.

But it felt so good.

He quickly leaves the room to find you crouching down, tending to the fire as you prepare the soup on top of the heated slab. “Need help?” He asks and you flinch, looking at him with a flushed face, “Hm? O-Oh no need.” You look away quickly. He frowns wondering what happened, you stand up and reassure him that nothing has happened and push him towards the table to sit down. You slightly rub your thighs to ease the tension between them.

You couldn't focus; After all- you just overheard what he did inside the room, the muffled moans, the strokes, and when he called out your name. You heard it all.

The wooden doors aren't really good at covering noises.

A few days passed by quickly after that, the town began to see changes as the crops began sprouting quickly, and soon Aemond's mission was finally completed. Which meant he had to return to the heavens.

But he did not want to.

He actually feels guilty returning to heaven after what he did with his human body.

He was slowly putting his clothes away, ‘packing’ to leave when the door opens which reveals you. Your eyes glance over to the sack of clothes and you quickly realise what's happening.

“You're leaving.” It wasn't a question, but rather a statement which leaves your lips weighed heavily with sadness. Aemond felt something inside him crack as he looked at your solemn expression.

“I have something I want to confess before I leave.” He speaks up and your eyes glint with hope, wondering if he'll confess his feelings to you finally- “I'm an angel.”

…

“Aemond, now isn't the time to be joking.” You furrow your brows but he shakes his head, coming closer to you and holding your hand, “I am not, I came here on a mission to solve humanity's problems and now I have to return to the heavens.” He can't stop speaking, no matter how much the voice inside him tells him that he shouldn't be revealing his true identity to humans. “Aemond, this is not funny-”

“I'm not trying to be funny, I am not lying, here I'll prove it to you.” He lets go of your hand, and moves to the window, and your eyes widen as the sudden sunny weather darkens and rain begins to fall.

You shall not reveal your identity.

You shall not flaunt your powers.

“Is that enough for you to believe me?” He asks and you're shocked, “Are you really..?” You question and he nods. The air shifts and you realise that you're in a heavenly presence which makes you scared- “Be not afraid.” He tells you and your breath hitches in your throat.

He moves closer to you again, caressing your cheek, “I'm telling you all this because- I don't know, I don't want to leave you behind.” He admits truthfully. “But if you're an angel, then we can’t-” You try to speak, but he cuts you off, “I know.”

“Truth be told, I have no idea what it is about you that made me hold such feelings towards you, but all I know is that I want you, I desire you, I need you.” He grips your shoulders, hands digging into your flesh.

You must not seek out a human.

You must not engage in worldly pleasures.

The atmosphere is filled with silence and tension as you look down, unable to form a sentence as your thoughts feel too complicated to process and Aemond just stares at you.

‘Do it.’ he hears a voice at the back of his head.

‘You want her, so do it.’ It encourages him.

‘If you want her, you must claim her.’ It's evil.

‘But I have to return to the heavens.’

‘Will you truly be happy in heaven?’

‘I'm not sure.’

‘Without her? Will you be able to continue to live without her?’

‘I do not know..’

‘If you do not claim her, she will fall in love with another mortal man, will you be able to stand it? Watch down from the heavens with the realisation that she was never yours?’

‘But I must not, I will soil myself, I do not want to give into the worldly pleasures.’

‘Hah, you're a fool, do as you wish, just remember that once you leave, she will never be yours, she will belong to another man.’

‘Stop.’

‘-She will be touched by another man, kissed, caressed, hugged, all the things you want to do to her'

‘Stop.’ Aemond tries resisting the anger that fills him when he imagines another man touching you.

‘She will get fucked by another man, and you'll watch it happen.’

��That's enough!” Aemond screams which startles you, “Aemond?” He looks at you, and your eyes widen when you realise something in his eye has changed, his pupil resembles that of a reptile. “What's wrong—” You're cut off from your words as he presses his lips against you, electricity courses through your body when you feel his soft lips against yours.

His lips move messily against yours, and he tastes just like honey, you try to resist wanting to tell him that this is wrong, and rationalise that he'll be cast out from heaven if he engages in intimacy with you but you aren't able to form coherent words because of the way he's constantly cutting you off with messy kisses.

“I want you, I need you, I can't let you be with any other man other than me.”

You're conflicted on whether you should encourage this but you remain silent, and aemond takes your silence as an agreement, he slowly slides off his robes and fully shows himself naked in front of you.

He's working on your clothes next, pulling them off you in swift motions before you're left standing bare just like him, he cups your cheek and tilts your face towards him, “Aemond… you'll be punished.” Your voice is laced with concern. “Look at you.. Always concerned for me, it doesn't matter anymore, I've made up my mind.” He pushes you towards the bed and onto it before climbing on top of you.

He places the soft pillow below your head for comfort before he trails soft kisses on your face, down to your neck, breasts and stomach.

“Beautiful, my beautiful lady.” He mutters against your skin, pecking and pulling it between his teeth. “Your body is so beautiful, your frame, everything about it is so beautiful.” He praises peppering kisses being placed on your breasts. He watches in awe as your nipples harden and poke up, and so he wets his lips before opening them and taking your nipple into his mouth, sighing softly in satisfaction.

His tongue swirls around your nipple, playing with the bud and flicking it up and down, the suckling noises that leave his mouth are sinful that makes you wet down there, you grind up against him to feel at ease.

The room begins to get hot and your small gasps and whines fill the air, accompanied by his grunts of satisfaction, that he finally got to touch you like this. He leaves your breast with a pop before focusing his attention onto the other one. “Aemond…” You wail and he looks at you, “... need you down here.” Those words leave your mouth unexpectedly as you rub your clit and he immediately listens to you letting go of your breast.

He travels down until he's directly faced with your cunt, he watches in amusement as your essence drips out of your hold which he licks up and brings up to your clit and suckles on it. “Hggnh!” You arch your back in pleasure as you feel tingles all over your body, your cunt pulsing around nothing when you feel his tongue play with your clit.

He nibbles on your clit, his teeth slightly poking it which makes slight pain shoot up your body. His tongue moves up and down, from your hole to your clit, he sucks on the flaps of your cunt harshly that causes you to whimper.

You feel his finger prodding at your opening before he slowly pushed it inside, “Fuck Aemond!” You let out a whine when you felt how his finger was stretching you out whilst his tongue worked magic on your clit.

He slowly pumped his finger in and out, letting you adjust to it before pushing another one inside which made you shriek but he hushed you with a kiss to your clit, and soon enough- the slow licking of your bud and the pumping of his fingers made you reach your peak. You clenched your eyes shut at the impact of your orgasm; feeling as if your whole body was set on fire, you saw plain white as your whole body quivered because of him.

He pulls his face away and draws back his finger only for him to put his fingers in his mouth, loving the way you tasted. He climbed upward until he was face to face with you and kissed you, making you taste your essence.

“So beautiful.” He says softly as he sees your dazed expression and messy hair, the way your lips are parted slightly as you take deep breaths.

He couldn't contain himself anymore.

He wasted no time in lining himself against your entrance and slowly pushing inside, you gasped when you felt how big he was, but you didn't stop him but instead held onto his shoulder as he pushed it inside inch by inch.

His hair cascaded around his face, making him look angelic, he closed his eye; gasping for air when he felt you clench around him. The way your walls were wrapped around him drove him insane; he couldn't hold back any longer as something in him cracked, his pace was messy and fast, almost desperate as if he was waiting his entire lifetime for this.

The sound of thrusts echo in the room as he speeds up, your back arches in pleasure when you feel him hit a certain spot inside you, his hands grip your waist as a leverage as he constantly thrusts deep and deeper inside you.

He feels like he is in heaven again, the feeling of you finally being his and how you're squirming underneath him, moaning his name, not anyone else's.

“You feel so good.” He grunts, “so fucking good— my love.” he places a kiss on your breast, before looking at you once again, your eyes staring directly at him. The sight of you beneath him, legs wrapped around his waist as you try to grind into him, indicating that you want him too makes him go feral.

His thrusts soon become sloppy, he knows he's gonna finish in mere moments, so he angles his thrusts upwards— hitting your sweet spot multiple times— making you see stars when you peak.

He's almost blinded when he feels his orgasm hit him, the intensity of the sensation being way too much to handle, he lets out a loud moan as he slowly rides out his orgasm all the while pumping you full of his seed.

He pulls out moments later and lays down beside you, trying to catch his breath, and you pull him closer for a hug.

Everything goes quiet for a few moments as you both try to recover.

Only for the silence to be broken by Aemond agonising screams.

“Aemond?” You panic not knowing what's happening.

Aemond feels as though his entire body was on fire, and then the flesh on his back distorts as his white angel wings spring out of it, you stand there in awe when you look at them, they're white feathers, but soon that emotion of amusement is replaced by pure horror when you see it be forcefully get ripped apart from his back by an invisible force of nature.

You scream in terror, while Aemond tries to bear the pain, he knew this would happen sooner or later, but he couldn't help but scream as the pain of having his wings ripped apart and pulled from his back is agonising.

Maybe the curse of being God's favourite was real.

And what Aemond is facing right now is God's punishment for trudging the path of temptation.

“Please- it hurts.” Aemond croaks in agony.

You feel helpless, not being able to do anything except watch, you just cradle his face, his hand grips onto yours tightly.

And soon it's done.

You could only watch as tears dripped down from his eye.

His once beautiful angel wings were ripped apart, the feathers all over the room and the only thing that remained of it were the scars of the wound on his back.

The scar that indicates the two wings were pulled out.

An angel without wings.

A fallen angel.

— ! ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

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jo-com · 6 months ago

Note

Charles jealous and possessive please 🔥 Smut. Thank you so much ❤️

₊˚⊹♡ ➛ le mien

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader

Summary: Part 2 of Mine

Genre: DARK fic.

Word: 2.03k words

TW: baby trapping, p and c penetration, possessiveness, jealousy, branding, manipulation, obsessive behavior, bit angsty, corruption, brainwashing, wrap it before you tap it folks and overall messed up shit. This is not proofread and there are some grammatical error also google translated french. if uncomfortable minors do not interact!!

─────── ─ ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧ ─ ───────

Y/username just posted!

Liked by Charles_Lecler, Francisca.cgomes, Carlossainz55 and 1,290,456 others

Y/username Happy 4th Anniversary Mon amour!

Charles_Leclerc i love you so much darling!

Y/username i love you more💋💋💋

Carlossainz55 Stay strong guys!

User1 Cutest Couple ever🙈

User2 JUST GET MARRIED ALREADY

User3 Agreed😍

Y/bff The cutest fr

❤️ liked by the author

Arthur_Leclerc Congrats bro!

❤️ liked by charles_leclerc and author

…

Despite all the love you share on social media, nothing can compare to the real truth that exists beyond the internet.

People don't see the things he does behind closed doors—all those emotional abuse, obsessive behavior, and possessiveness. Never, even once, do people know that it's happening between the two of you.

All they know is the sweet words you guys share in each other's posts and the way you act whenever there are people around you two—all sweet and loving like one of those fairy tale romances you read. But behind all that, they don't see how hurt you are mentally. It was happening constantly, and you were so used to it that you became numb and just succumbed to the growing pain you feel inside.

To the point where you act like his puppet—doing everything that pleases him, and acting the way he wants you to.

You never once complained, thinking that it was just how love goes.

You were a fool. A fool blinded by "love".

...

"Hey y/n/n, are you alright? Me and mom have been worried about you; you haven't been going to our usual family gathering." your sister asked over the phone.

It was true; you haven't been going to those gatherings for a while now, only because Charles said, "It's not safe to go outside," and of course, like the sweet girlfriend doll you were, you followed his words.

You stared blankly, your mind wandering off. You tend to get lost in thoughts nowadays, and you're not sure why. Maybe it's from the stress you've been feeling, but you just brushed it off like it was nothing.

"Yeah, I am good. I've just been busy lately, you know? Keeping the house safe and everything," you chuckled dryly.

"You know I can tell when there's something wrong, right? So just tell me."

Before you could answer, Charles walked into the room. With one hand holding Leo, he was snuggled up nice and cozy in his embrace. His eyes roamed around the room searching for you; his gaze then fell prey on your meek figure—you sat there holding the phone in one hand while the other rested on the softly fabricated couch. You looked angelic, as if untouched by any form of evil.

Then again, Charles wasn't just any form of evil; he was the reincarnation of the devil himself, and he wanted nothing more than to corrupt your innocence.

With a soft smile, Charles walked to where you sat, sitting beside you and settling leo down on his lap.

"Who are you talking to poupée (doll)?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Oh, just my sister; we were just catching up on things." You muttered, your voice quivering slightly; you don't know whether you were scared or just have some sore throat that made your voice crack.

Charles looked at you in disbelief, his eyes narrowing with skepticism, and simply turned his attention back at Leo. "Hang up the phone," he said bluntly, not even sparing you a glance.

"But baby, we were just talking." You tried to argue with him, telling him that you just wanted to chat with your sister, but as usual, he blocked your words of plea and glared at you—he always does that, looking at you as if he were judging your whole soul.

His eyes have always been your weakness; they both scare and pleasure you at the same time. Charles knows that, and he uses it to his advantage every time.

The atmosphere in the room was heavy; you could feel it weighing down and crushing your spirit.

Sighing defeatedly, you had no choice but to end the call with your sister and not further complicate things.

"Hey, uhm, sis, I'll just call you back, okay? Something just came up."

You didn't even let your sister respond before hanging up the call. Charles hummed contentedly and patted the seat next to him. At that very moment, you felt angry with him, but you knew that you couldn't do anything about it, so you sucked it up and sat beside him. Leaning close to his embrace.

"Bonne fille, ma chérie (good girl, my darling)," he mumbbled softly, kissing the roof of your head.

...

Charles gripped your waist tightly, his jaws clenched, and hands balled up to a fist. He half-ass smiled at the man, trying to compose himself—fighting back the urges to beat the shit out of the guy in front of them.

He saw the way he looked at you; his eyes scanned each and every part of your body like you were some kind of art on display. fucking disgusting.

You, on the other hand, held on to him, almost ripping the fabric of his clothes with your tight grip. You paid no mind to the guy he was talking to and just stared at the bustling room; in there, people were having fun, dancing, and drinking with others.

At that moment, you didn't care about Charles or who he was conversing with; all you wanted was to spring free from his embrace and just party wild with others. Was that too much to ask for?

For him, it was. If it was legal, he wanted nothing more than to lock you up and live the rest of your lives together. So, having that idea was just wishful thinking—it never hurts to dream, though.

"I'll see you around, yeah?" The man asked, earning a subtle nod from Charles as an acknowledgment.

"Quel putain de cinglé (what a fucking weirdo)," he mumbled under his breath, his accent making the words sound more spiteful and venomous.

You didn't hear him say that. You were too busy to admire people's enjoyment and bask in the laughter and smiles that surround you. How could people be as care free like that? The ache on your heart only grows fonder. Oh, how you wish you could do the same.

With your head up in the clouds, you didn't seem to notice the angry monegasque that stood beside you, cursing you in any language he knew. The next thing you felt was a harsh sting that rested on your jaw.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? I've been trying to talk to you! What are you even looking at? Are you cheating on me, Chienne (Bitch)?" he yelled, not even caring anymore if people heard him.

Your breath hitches, eyes widening, and heart racing fast.

His hands were now on your jaws, gripping them with sheer strength. You didn't know what was going on or why this was happening to you. You were always so nice and never did anything to cause harm, so why?

All those questions in your mind made your vision go blurry and your head spin, causing you to black out on the spot.

...

You woke up the next day with a pounding headache and only bits of memories of what happened that night. "Ouch," you winced, massaging your head to try and ease the pain.

As if on cue, Charles walked in with medicine on his left hand and a glass of water on the right.

His face lit up, seeing that you were now awake. He softly smiled and walked towards your shared bed. The matress dipped down as he sat next to your sitting body.

"Are you feeling better, mon amour?" he asked. His hand was about to stroke your cheeks, but out of reflex, your body flinched at his sudden movement.

That made Charles frown. You know how bipolar his mood has been; that's why you've been extra careful not to ruin it. You were expecting him to be mad, but what happened was the opposite. He only sighed deeply and lowered his head.

"I am sorry, Mon cœur." Your being shocked was an understatement; in fact, you were flabergasted at his words. You never knew that hearing him say that would make you want to tear up.

"Hey, baby, it's okay. I know you didn't mean for it to happen," you assured him, and rubbed circles around his arm.

And just like that, Charles once again got you wrapped around his finger. You were way too easy to convince and so naive that you'd fall for anything he said.

He slowly lift up his head and gave you a light smile.

You then melted at his expression, it was silly of you to think that a face like that could ever harm you. he would never do that.

...

"Fuck, Charlie, put it in already, please," you begged, your eyes watering from the overstimulation. His hands gripped your waist tighter—muscles flexing in the process.

"You're so needy for my cock, mon amour," he breathes out.

The two of you have been at it for half an hour now, both out of breath and with marks made by one another. Your bodies were sticky with each other's bodily fluids, but you guys paid no mind to that. Only focusing on reaching the pleasure you both wanted so badly.

Without wasting a second, Charles huridly inserted his dick into your aching core. Your eyes widened from the sudden sensation between your thighs; you could feel how he was stretching you, and the need for him to satisfy you only increased.

"Move, please" you said, your voice quivering and hands scratching his back to let out some of the pain.

Your legs instantly rested on his lower hip, wanting to keep him as close to you as possible. You don't know why you're acting like that, but you suddenly got the urge to mount him and fuck him till dawn.

"Shit baby, you're always so tight," he chuckled, his left hand settled in the headboard while his right hand played with the nub of your tits.

His hips clashed with yours, making the two of you a moaning mess. Charles then dove down to your breast and licked it, biting and teasing them. He made sure to leave plenty of marks.

"Oh god, i..i am about to come," you gasped, your toes curling from the rush of adrenaline coursing through you.

"Just come for me, baby," he said, continuously pounding into you, your flesh crashing at each other and making a loud, smacking sound.

His hand then snaked up to hold onto your ankles, lifting it up. Shifting his dick into a deeper position.

With the new found position, your vision started to go blur; now only seeing nothing but stars. Your mind then turns hazy, and hands gripping tightly on the duvet sheet that scattered on the bed.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck" was the only thing you said before collapsing on the matress, your body convulsing with pleasure as your juices slowly fall down your flush tighs.

"Damn, all that for me, ma chérie?" Charles laughed, licking his lower lip at how ravishing you look; fucked out and cockdumb for him.

He continued to rut his hips to your overstimulated cunt. "Fuck, Je veux mettre un bébé en toi (i want to put a baby inside you)" he mumbled, not minding your state and carried on fucking you into an oblivion.

"I'ma fill you with my cum, make you a mama and the fill you up again....fuck" he rambled, his hips never stoping, not until he reach his high.

And after a few more thrust, he finally came inside of you— his eyes rolling in the back of his head with satisfaction. He continued to rut into you; not wanting to spill his cum and then coating your walls with his white seed.

You were sure to get pregnant by that and after that, you two are going to be tied forever, just like he planned.

...

yeah that was pure filth, hope you guys like it though! My requests are always open.

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ahqkas · 3 months ago

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♯ ME AND THE DEVIL ; mattheo riddle

PAIRING! mattheo riddle x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS! they didn't understand how you did it, how you tamed the devil, how you made him fall so deeply in love with you that the darkness in him seemed to shrink in your presence. but the truth was, you hadn't tamed him at all. you’d simply loved him, and that was all mattheo riddle ever needed to be tamed ( based on this req.!! )

WORD COUNT! 1.6k

WARNINGS / TAGS! fluff, reader is described to have hair . lmk of more if found please

NOTES! proud to say i’m obsessed with this relationship dynamic && how this turned out . all the credits to the pretty devider below belong to @/menschenopfer !

THE DEVIL IS REAL AND HE IS NOT SOME LITTLE RED MAN WITH HORNS AND TAIL LURKING IN THE SHADOWS. He can be beautiful because he's a fallen angel and he used to be God's favorite. He wears the face of a man, a smile that can soothe even the most restless heart, and eyes that seem to hold all the answers you've ever sought. He is beautiful, captivating in a way that makes you forget the dangers of dancing with darkness. In his presence, you'll find no fire, no urge to flee — only the slow, seductive burn of a flame that whispers promises too sweet to resist.

That was your Mattheo.

There was a certain reputation that followed Mattheo Thomas Riddle wherever he went, an aura of danger and unpredictability that made students give him a wide berth in the corridors of Hogwarts. Hushed whispers went after him like a shadow, tales of his dark family history and the fierce temper that boiled just below the surface of his skin. The mocking smirk that often played on his lips only added to the mystery, and the way he carried himself — confident, unyielding — left little doubt that he was someone to be reckoned with.

But then there was you, someone who seemed to have done the impossible.

You, with your quiet strength and unshakable resolve, had become the only one who could temper the storm within him. It wasn't just that you weren't afraid of him, it was that you saw him, truly saw him, beyond the name people tagged the boy with. Where others saw only the 'son of You-Know-Who' or 'Voldemort's one and only heir', the devil's progeny, you saw the boy behind the names. You saw the struggles he came from, the vulnerability he buried beneath layers of bravado.

People ouldn't help but stare as you walked down the hallways together, your fingers comfortably intertwined with Mattheo's. You were his opposite in so many ways — where he was brooding, you were bright; where he was sharp, you were soft. It was a juxtaposition that made everyone wonder just how you managed to tame the so-called "devil" of Hogwarts.

You'd hear the murmurs as you passed by, the way some students would quickly avert their eyes as if afraid to be caught staring. Others, more curious or perhaps bolder, would watch with a mix of awe and disbelief, as if trying to solve a puzzle that didn't quite make sense. How could someone so seemingly gentle be with someone as dangerous as Mattheo Riddle?

But they didn't see what you did. They didn't see the way his gaze softened whenever he looked at you, the way his tough exterior melted when it was just the two of you. They didn't see the way he'd listen intently to your every word, his attention unwavering, as if nothing else in the world mattered because it was the truth; nothing else mattered to him than you.

And perhaps most surprising to them would be the way he smiled — truly smiled — when he was with you. It wasn't the sharp, almost menacing grin he'd flash when someone annoyed him, but a real, genuine smile that reached his eyes. It was a smile that told you, and anyone else who bothered to look close enough, that Mattheo Riddle was more than just the dark reputation that surrounded him.

You'd catch the way his hand would tighten around yours in a crowd, his thumb brushing against your skin in a gesture of reassurance. Or the way he'd lean down to press a kiss to your temple when he thought no one was looking, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. These were the moments that made you smile to yourself, knowing that despite what others thought, there was so much more to him than they could ever understand.

There was an incident once, in the Great Hall, where some younger Slytherins were laughing too loudly about something — until Mattheo glanced their way. The laughter died almost immediately, replaced by nervous glances and shuffling feet. But then, with you beside him, you nudged your boyfriend gently and whispered something in his ear. Whatever you said made him chuckle, the sound low and rich, and just like that, the tension in the air dissipated. The younger students exchanged bewildered looks, clearly wondering what spell you'd cast to make him laugh like that.

It was in these moments that the real magic of your relationship showed itself — not in taming the so-called devil, but in understanding him. In knowing that beneath the hard exterior, Mattheo was someone who needed love just as much as anyone else. And you gave it to him without reservation, without fear, seeing the good in him that others were too blind to notice.

Of course, there were times when that darkness would surface, when his temper would flare or his patience would run thin. But even then, you knew how to bring him back, how to calm the storm that raged within him. A soft word, a gentle touch, and he'd remember himself. He'd remember that he didn't have to fight the world alone — that he had you by his side.

And so, the students of Hogwarts continued to wonder, to speculate. They'd see you together in the courtyard, Mattheo's arm draped casually over your shoulders as you talked about everything and nothing. They'd see the way you'd laugh at something he said, your smile lighting up the space between you, and how he'd look at you like you were the only person in the world who mattered.

The two of you were sitting beneath one of the old oak trees in the courtyard, the late afternoon sun casting dappled shadows across the grass. You were leaned against the trunk, a loved book in your lap, while Mattheo sat beside you, one arm draped lazily over your shoulders. The gentle breeze played with your hair, and every now and then, your boyfriend would reach over to tuck a loose strand behind your ear. It was a small gesture, but it made your heart flutter every time.

You couldn't help but notice the way students passing by would glance your way, their eyes lingering on the Riddle heir with a mix of fear and curiosity. You'd grown used to it by now, the way people would whisper behind your backs, wondering how someone like you had ended up with someone like him.

"They're staring again," you murmured to him, your eyes flicking up from your book to catch the gaze of a group of Ravenclaws who quickly looked away when they realized they'd been caught.

Mattheo unwillingly tore his attentive gaze away from you and followed the line of your vision, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips at the sight he came to see. "Let them," he said casually, leaning closer to press a sweet kiss to your temple. "They'll get over it eventually."

You smiled slightly and leaned closer to his lips, the warmth of his affection soothing any unease that brewed in you. "It's just . . . I know how they see you," you said, your tone more thoughtful than concerned. "And I know they don't really get us."

He tilted his head, studying you with a calm expression on his face. "Do you care what they think?"

"Not really," you admitted, glancing back at him through your eyelashes. "But it's hard not to notice, you know? Sometimes I just wonder what they're thinking."

The Slytherin shrugged, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "Probably trying to figure out if you've got me under some love spell. Because obviously, there's no other reason I'd be with someone like you, right?"

You rolled your eyes, nudging him lightly. "You sound ridiculous."

"But I'm right," he teased, his smile softening. "They only see what they want to see. They don't know you like I do."

"And what do you see?" you asked, curious despite yourself.

He paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "I see someone who's smart, kind, and who doesn't put up with anyone's nonsense — including mine. And I'm good with that."

You couldn't help but smile at his words, appreciating the simplicity of them. "And you? What about what they think of you?"

"They can think what they like," he said easily, his fingers tracing patterns on your shoulder now. "I'm not here to make anyone else comfortable. I'm here because I want to be."

You nodded, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. "Yeah. Me too."

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the sounds of the courtyard filling the air around you. You leaned into his side, your book forgotten as you let yourself relax, content just to be there with him.

"So, who's got the next match against us again?" your boyfriend asked suddenly, his tone casual as if he hadn't just been talking about something far more serious.

You laughed softly, glad for the shift in conversation. "Gryffindor, next Saturday. And I'm not missing it."

"Good," he said, smiling as he looked out at the courtyard. "Because I want you there."

They didn't understand how you did it, how you tamed the devil, how you made him fall so deeply in love with you that the darkness in him seemed to shrink in your presence.

But the truth was, you hadn't tamed him at all. You'd simply loved him, and that was all Mattheo Riddle ever needed to be tamed.

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle oneshot #mattheo riddle drabble #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo riddle blurb #x reader #reader insert #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fic #harry potter imagine #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin x reader

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fuckmymunson · 2 years ago

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eddie who has a reputation to uphold, the weird and scary freak who wears chains and big metal rings and always goes on tangents about his hatred for the popular kids, not a sliver of fear or weakness in his eyes. eddie who at the same time never leaves his house without the light yellow scrunchy with daisies on it that you gave him, always on his wrist or wrapped in his hair.

eddie who’s sweet n soft on you in a way he never is with anyone else 🥹

💌 a/n: Oh god, this, this, this, this. Please, I don’t ask for much. I’m so happy to get back to writing! Hope you like it!

🪷 Check my recent poll ¡! 📌

“I lost it” His voice sounded almost defeated, and quite inopportune.

“Eddie!” You jolted in your place, closing the light green locker door. Behind it, there he was, the big, scary, mean freak of Hawkins High. Covered from head to toe in chains, leather, ripped jeans, black, black, all black. With dark, unruly hair and a chunky rings.

But also, with puppy eyes, and a quivering lip.

“You scared the shit out of me, Eds” The frown on your pretty face made his heart jump inside his chest. You were an angel, a sight for sore eyes.

“I lost it” He repeated.

“You lost what?”

“I’m sorry” Eddie looked down, apparently now his Reeboks were the most interesting thing.

“Care to explain what is missing and why are you apologizing?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you waited, for almost three minutes.

“I lost the scrunchy you gave me” He finally admitted, like a criminal at trial.

Eddie heard you sigh, to his ears, was a sigh of disappointment. In reality, it was a sigh of relief. Only Edward Munson knew how to make a simple thing as a scrunchy into a faithful message.

“That’s it? Eddie, it’s just a hair tie” You shook your head, still not comprehending the dimensions of his problem.

“It’s not just a hair tie!” He exclaimed, now almost offended, of course only he could switch mood that easily. A few curious students looked at your way, still wondering how did an adorable piece of cotton and sunshine like you, was dating the metalhead, three-times senior freak of not only high school, but of the whole town.

“Yes it is, love. I can just give you another one, don’t worry— Look, I can give you the one I’m wearing…”

“I don’t want that one” He said, his words sounding almost like a tantrum. “I want the one you gave me on our first date, the yellow one with little sunflowers”

“Daisies, Eddie” You corrected him with a smile. Only Eddie was able to remember such a tiny detail and forget a crucial detail.

Only Eddie was able to make you feel loved, cherished and appreciated. He was so different from every other person you have dated before. He snatched your heart from the very first day and it’s been a daily occurrence for almost a year. The scary, weird freak, the person considered a devil worshipper, the mean senior who had the admirable (or idiotic) courage to stand out against others who felt like they had the right to humiliate and ridicule those who weren’t like them. Your Eddie, the one who broke a jock’s nose one time for slapping your ass walking through the halls. Your Eddie, who waited patiently until every extracurricular activities you were into were over, so he could drive you home and hold your thigh and listen to you throughout the whole ride. Your Eddie, who loved Saturday night because it meant movie night, cuddles and kisses. The mean freak who let you braid his hair, paint his nails, sew his old t-shirts.

The Eddie Munson who was scared of spiders but wasn’t scared of a hundred people crowd. The boy who initiated a food fight at the cafeteria and had to go to the nurses office because an orange hit his eye and he realized he was allergic to them. The man who every Friday made fairy tales, knight stories and evil monsters come true and walk this very earth with just his voice and his imagination at his D&D club. Your Eddie, who on your first date, dropped a chocolate milkshake on top of your white dress, forgot to fill his fuel tank, and had to push his van all the way to the nearest gas station.

That’s how the bright scrunchy ended up in his hair, in a makeshift ponytail that you made by running your delicate fingers through his tangled hair.

That was your Eddie.

Your Eddie. Yours. Yours.

“Fine, let’s go find it” You said, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles. “Tell me what you did today…”

Sorry for any mistakes! English is not my first language. Thank you for reading!˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

#Anya is writing! ᜊ( ᜊ ´ ˘) ੭ #Anya’s love letters! ۪ 💌 ۫#Anya dreams of Eddie!(〃＾▽＾〃)#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson blurb #stranger things fic #eddie munson fics

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verimuru · 8 months ago

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20th Century Boy

A 12-page IWTV (2022 series) fancomic about the Vampire Armand, Daniel, Devil’s minion era, sex, drugs and rock n' roll.

Content mentions & warnings: drug use, light angst, mentions of sex & death.

Fancomic by verimuru and anonymous, 2024.

Some notes about the comic below:

This comic is based on my partner's brilliant fanfiction. They wished to remain anonymous, but the story idea was theirs. I am just a humble servant.

Neither of us speak English as our first language, so of course after finishing I see a hundred things to tweak in the dialogue... but decided to leave it the way it is, for now. So! If you, dear reader, find clunky sentences and weird mistakes and would possibly like to help us in the future, send me an ask. ;-)

My partner said that banging in an elevator while listening T.Rex on repeat is a plothole because they couldn't do that, but I disagree. They would find a way.

Idk where Louis is - probably left Dubai. Daniel got some of his memories back, not sure how yet. Lots of inspiration was taken from GrayGiantess' fics, but this work is not based on them (just an encouragement for everyone to read them).

I got into this ship, like, less than 100 hours ago. I got possessed by a demon, blinked, and suddenly I made a comic. I have seen the first season of the IWTV 2022 adaptation and everything else I know about the canon is hearsay, whispers in the forest and an Eldritch demon telling me its tales. Consider me as a little fledgling.

And finally, the songs in order by T.Rex are: Get it on, 20th Century Boy, Free Angel and Cosmic Dancer. Rest in piece, Marc Bolan, and thank you for everything.

I'll make an PDF for itch.io... later, now I need to sleep.

We would love a comment or an ask, so my box is open. Hope you enjoy. <3

UPDATE on 24th of March, 2024: I fixed Armand's skin tone on two pages (I had missed a couple spots).

#amc iwtv #armandaniel #daniel molloy #the vampire armand #armand #verimuru art #iwtv #armand x daniel #armandaniel comic #iwtv fanart #iwtv fancomic #iwtv amc #iwtv 2022 #the devils minion #old man daniel #this is what the kids call #old man yaoi

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bitethedevil · 2 months ago

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Raphael and his Morals: The Analysis Where I Sound Like A Devil Apologist

I see Raphael being characterized as a selfish power-hungry character a lot. And I mean, he definitely is! Don’t get me wrong. I just also think there are more layers to that, so I want to make a little analysis on the deeper level of what kind of rationalization goes through his head when it comes to the whole tadpole business and the Crown of Karsus.

The Pact Primeval

I think that the Pact Primeval is pretty important to understand when it comes to a general understanding of devils. There are multiple versions of this tale, though the one I will go through is the one that the devils tell each other (you can find all of this in Fiendish Codex II).

So basically, in the beginning of everything there was chaos. Out of that chaos came the demons. Lawful deities began to fight that chaos but eventually they got tired of it because there was seemingly an endless supply of demons. The deities couldn’t be bothered anymore because they wanted to make the world and it’s creatures and all of that instead. They then created angels and were like “cool, you go kill all the demons while we have fun making the world”.

One of those angels was Asmodeus. He was described as both beautiful and fierce, and he was amazing at what he did. The trouble was that the more the angels fought the demons, the more traits they came to share with them to fight them more efficiently. They turned ugly and twisted too because the demons they fought were so.

The deities then saw how they had changed, and all said “ew” in unison and said that they did not want those twisted beings living anywhere near them. They tried to banish Asmodeus and the other angels from the Heavens.

Asmodeus was not having that (and understandably so imo). There came a trial and Asmodeus essentially pointed out that “hey, I actually just did what I was made for, and I did it pretty damn well too. We’ve only dirtied our hands so yours can stay clean. If we are to be lawful beings, then this charge is absolutely bullshit”. Asmodeus could “wield the law like a knife” and the deities had to admit that what he was saying was right, so they couldn’t do much.

Eventually, the deities had made intelligent beings and to protect these beings, they made barriers between them and the demons. To their horror, the deities saw that some of the intelligent beings they had so carefully tried to protect, insisted on breaking these barriers and letting demons into their world. The gods were confused and exasperated at this and weren’t sure how to stop them.

That is where out boy Asmodeus comes in with a plan: There should be punishments for those who disobey the gods, or else there will continue to be chaos. So, Asmodeus, Mephistopheles and Dispater, along with the other twisted angels went out and punished the wrong doers.

As these tortured and punished people trickled into the Heavens after their death, the deities once again all said “ew” and pulled in Asmodeus to answer for this. They did not want those punished mortals in their realm, so Asmodeus came with another solution: basically, creating the Hells. All he wanted in return was to be able to draw power from the souls of those he punishes, since they (the twisted angels) cannot draw power from the deities while being separated from them

The gods all agreed and signed what would be known as the Pact Primeval which held these terms. The gods then freak out when they find out that what has now become the devils of the Hells encourage people to do wrong so that they end up in the Hells. When confronted with this by the angry gods who tell him that he can’t possibly be doing this, Asmodeus simply smiles and answers: Read the fine print.

The Morals of Devils

Essentially, devils are focused on the larger picture always. They are basically worker ants. I’ve spoken about this before. The Hells are hierarchical, and everyone has a job to do. Everyone eventually fights in the Blood War and contributes to the greater cause. They are simultaneously aware that they are a part of something greater than themselves AND they also want to further their own ambitions and climb the ladder through promotion.

The main objective is always the Blood War between devils and demons. Defeating the demons have been the point since before the Pact Primeval. In their own minds, they technically are doing good. Defeating chaos is good. It’s the whole point. Now, the ways that they might achieve that might not be good, but that is again the focus on the grander picture that comes in. If a mortal asked a devil why they do as they do, they would tell them that they are the only thing that stands between them and absolute chaos. An honorable cause reached with truly dishonorable means (such as when Asmodeus lures more souls to the Hells to gain power to his war against the demons).

Raphael

Raphael is serving himself with his goal of wanting the Crown but perhaps not entirely for pure power-hungry reasons. Yes, he wants power, but he also shows this exact idea of a devil’s tendency to look at the greater picture. He does say in the end that he wants to end the Blood War (which…yeah. That’s great honey, have fun with that. If all of the gods and Asmodeus failed to do so, a little Crown probably won’t do much). I am of the belief that conquering the Hells could be possible but ending the Blood War seems damn near impossible.

But my point stands: he is concerned with the state of the Hells, and he wants to be the one who fixes all of it, which would no doubt give him a lot of devil cookie-points and clout. It would show daddy dearest and everyone who doubted him that he is good at Being A Devil™.

Even if he just gives us the Hammer and we don’t follow through on giving him the Crown of Karsus, he has still done a lot for the Hells. Raphael and the rest of the Hells are not interested in everyone becoming mindflayers (and thus soulless).

That is the very reason why he detests the Emperor so much and mistrusts him. He does not want us to trust someone who enjoys being a mindflayer like he does, because he knows it leads to someone, if not everyone, losing their soul and thus valuable power to the Hells.

This is all just to say that yes, Raphael is a power-hungry narcissist, but he is also simply a cog in a very large machine. If anything, it is actually surprising that there weren’t more devils in the story who were concerned with how everything was turning out.

There is more nuance to him than simply wanting the Crown and becoming Archdevil Supreme for his own selfish goals. He is simply acting on the morals of what everyone around him has fed him his whole life: that you should work hard and be ambitious so that you can further the cause. The real tragic flaw, however, is that if they actually achieved winning the Blood War, they would simply become the new demons because they have become so much like them by fighting them all those years.

And if Raphael has been fed the same version of the Pact Primeval as mentioned above, it’s no wonder that he is so surprisingly chill about Mystra getting the Crown of Karsus. He sees the gods as incompetent snobs who can’t get anything done properly (and let’s be real here, with what I know of them, I sort of agree), and he knows that eventually they will all start their infighting again at some point.

The biggest overarching problem with Raphael’s plans is the same as his father’s and all the other devils. It’s the fact that they understand the bigger picture but believe that if they had more power then they would be more capable of achieving it than those already in power. It’s this idea that the ones above you are simply incompetent at reaching a goal that is essentially impossible. The demons will keep coming no matter what, but they all believe that they would win if they became the next Asmodeus.

You see it when Raphael mentions that his father is “naught more than a frigid archivist”. Could there be a reason for that, pookie? Could there be a reason as to why Mephistopheles won’t use the Crown? Could it be that Hells greatest wizard might have a better grasp on such things than his son? No, nope, daddy is just being stupid and incompetent.

It’s all arrogance. From a sort of natural selection viewpoint, it makes sense. This arrogance makes the devils more ambitious and thus they work harder as the little worker ants that they are, but the downside is that they will make the exact same mistakes as many before them.

#bite yaps #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 raphael #bg3

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giantmushyfriend · 11 months ago

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Welcome back to the Ineffable lyric discussion (can I hear a wahoo)

In honor of the announcement of season 3 of our beloved Good Omens, I find it completely necessary for us to discuss one of the many songs on Aziraphale and Crowley's angelic playlist that made me scream my bloody head off. One of those songs is the one and only The Book of Love by Peter Gabriel. While I UNDERSTAND this song may have just been chosen to spell out SEASON THREE, I think it goes much deeper than that because of all of the parallels it draws to Aziraphale and Crowley. And ultimately, what I think is going to happen in terms of their relationship when they finally sort their shit out. So beware if you haven't watched season 2 of Good Omens because we're about to do a fucking DEEP DIVE into this.

First, the title of the Book of Love feels almost like a call to this looming threat to the Book of Life that was consistently used in series 2. The entire season, Crowley and Aziraphale have to work oh so carefully because with the Book of Life being confirmed, they know that either of them could get the other erased, and whether they want to admit it or not, losing the other is their biggest fear. We've seen this when Crowley believed Aziraphale to be dead in Series 1 when he couldn't feel Aziraphale's presence anymore since he got incorporated. When Aziraphale isn't there, Crowley is a mess. Likewise, we saw how both reacted during the ineffable divorce scene in series 2. Crowley is full-on begging Aziraphale to stay, and Aziraphale has finally admitted that he needs Crowley and full-on mouths for Crowley not to leave him. The Book of Life inherently, from how Neil set it up, feels threatening. The Book of Love, on the other hand, raises an entirely other reaction. Throughout the series, as corny as it sounds, love has been what grounds our protagonists. It is the love of Tadfeild and his friends that keeps Adam from kickstarting the end of the world; it's what keeps him from rejecting his father, the literal devil. It is the love of the earth, of humanity and all its strange creations, and for each other that keeps Aziraphale and Crowley attempting to prevent the end of the world when it could be so much easier to just accept the fate of it all. Love is the key theme that grounds our protagonists, that makes them tick. Love is safe; love is, at times, painful but overall kind. So when we see this title on their playlist, listed amongst heartwrenching tales of grieving a relationship, you could have had, and of loss, it brings a sense of salvation and safety. The Book of Love, unlike the Book of Life, is not a threat- it's a sanctuary for Aziraphale and Crowley.

Now, diving into the lyrics.

"The book of love is long and boring

No one can lift the damn thing

It's full of charts and facts, and figures, and instructions for dancing

But I

I love it when you read to me.

And you

You can read me anything"

The first couple of verses inherently feel like Aziraphale and Crowley's original view on this notion of love. As two supernatural entities who aren't bound by human emotion or logic, love may seem superficial and downright silly at times. The courting procedures that different societies have taken on throughout the centuries and the songs and dances that come along with it may all seem like a big waste. The book of love is a manifestation of love itself, and originally, it seems unappetizing to our protagonists. That is until they refind each other, and love goes from this thing that humans feel and jump through hoops for to this tidal wave of emotions. Love felt silly and unrealistic before, but with each other, they are willing and excited to explore it, even if it comes with things that feel inherently silly.

Also, these verses draw some cute parallels to headcanons and features of cannons. If you've been involved in the Good Omens fandom long enough, you've probably stumbled across the idea that Crowley asks Aziraphale to read to him for a multitude of different reasons. Some people say it's because his eyes aren't meant to read, one of the many punishments that came with him being cast down from grace, or maybe it's just because he finds Aziraphale's voice comforting. Additionally, the line about instructions for dancing is just so heartwarming when we look at the ball scene from this past season and Aziraphale's daydreams of a romance worthy of a Jane Austin novel.

"The book of love is long and boring

And written very long ago

It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes

Adn things we're all too young to know

but I

I love it when you give me things

and you

You ought to give me wedding rings"

I'm sure we've all heard this idea that you'll understand love when you get older, but even when you get older, it never seems to make sense. This idea that love is too old for any of us to truly understand, and that humbles us but in the best way possible. There is no point in trying to figure out what exactly love is because you could spend thousands of years feeling it and watching it happen all around you and still not know exactly what it is besides this all-encompassing feeling. And that is exactly the perspective of Aziraphale and Crowley. They have seen countless examples of love, true, unwavering love, and they have felt it for each other. And yet they themselves cannot begin to fathom what love, true unconditional love, is exactly. These two supernatural, ethereal/occult beings are humbled by the very concept of love like humans are- and that love is drawn from each other.

And then there is this notion of giving, which pairs so well with Crowley's primary love language, acts of service and gift giving. If the first chorus was Crowley talking about how he loves it when Aziraphale reads to him and takes care of him, then this is Aziraphale talking about how Crowley displays his love. And this final notion of asking for that final commitment, one of the key ways humans express their love for each other, is just amazing. Because in a way, Aziraphale moving to make this commitment, to fully be on their side in this way, is the resolution we have been wanting since the beginning. For Aziraphale to finally feel safe enough to let go and finally let himself settle to where he finally belongs, on his side with Crowley.

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chuuyrr · 5 months ago

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𝐢. 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋, 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 ‧₊ .ᐟ

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𓂃 ࣪˖ ִ 𓆩 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐈 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 ‧₊ 𓆪 fallen angel! dazai osamu , f! angel! reader . . .

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ i can fix him (no really i can)

𝐂𝐖(𝐬) ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ angels! au, religious themes: inspired by éloa (1824), a poem about a f! angel falling for a "stranger", which is also inspired by the hades and persephone myth. submission to @kentopedia's event !

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ sfw. in which he sought to reclaim his lost light, and like a moth to a flame, he found it in you, an angel of light

in the tapestry of stories you've heard high and low, dazai osamu's name profoundly echoed in the heavens, tarnished by fame. you've heard it time and time again, like a broken record from the moment you were given life from the tears of the god above.

he was whispered to be akin to the devil himself, once counted among the highest-ranking angels who succumbed to the depths of disgrace.

so profound was his descent from grace that even the mere mention of his name invoked a shiver of fear. branded as fallen, unworthy, and a symbol of shame, his very existence became a testament to the consequences of betrayal in heaven.

and you were such a curious little creature of the cursed tale, almost like an innocent lamb to a wolf, as they say. however, even as an angel from above, you contemplated the prospect of getting condemned and branded unfit. the so-cursed fallen may have made mistakes, but you still stuck to this very principle.

is not everyone deserving of grace? a second chance at forgiveness? those questions plagued your heart and soul, feeling you with a sense of trepidation that you had struggled to shake, yet you somehow longed for it. how strange.

you delved to question the morality and rationale of it, therefore you were warned not to seek what is unlawful or even question the greatest order among the heavenly creatures you all are, or you would be labeled the same as the devil, dazai osamu, the fallen angel.

not only were you a curious thing, but you were also frequently admonished, such as not flying too low on the ground or you would no longer be able to stay above, but you dismissed it as a stupid scolding.

besides, how could you not? the earth was as lovely as the sky above. every corner was a breath of life, born of a miracle, just like you.

so, you descended from heaven, disregarding the warnings of your fellow angels and higher-ups, and found yourself floating across the line that connects the sky and land, your white feathery wings flapping and gliding along the breeze of the air.

unbeknownst to you, a pair of enigmatic eyes somewhere from the shadows was.. watching you—your every move.

you were like a delicate swan, far from the coast, giving its white wing to the passing waves of the ocean sky.

their gaze was solely affixed on the purity of your smile, the way your [color] eyes shone with light, and the way your danced in the skies with your wings akin to a dove's as if it was your ballroom, and those same eyes easily recognized you as one of the angels from heaven, and you were undoubtedly a pure soul.

and this light you had, your very purity, it was tempting those eyes, like a moth to a flame.

instead of avoiding temptation, he welcomed it with open arms, gazed wistfully at you from a distance. the urge was strong. just seeing you for the first time elicited a wide range of feelings in him. he wants your luminescence.

he wanted you, and he will get what he wants.

he purposely comes into your view, making sure to catch your attention, and it doesn't take long. no one could resist him anyways. not even a pure soul like you, even if you were not one of those mortal women that loves him so much so, they were the reason why they talk in their sleep.

your gaze catches sight of a young man, who is undoubtedly beautiful, and the feel is too celestial to be real. his eyes sparkle almost like dazzling diamonds in the night like stars, and his skin is so beautiful that he could be mistaken for an angel like you.. or perhaps he was?

"my, my," his voice was sweet as honey, and rich and deep as it is he spoke to you with a smile hoping to tug on your heartstrings, "where did you come from, beautiful archangel?"

"you came down from heaven and sent me lightning, but you are so beautiful in my eyes that i don't know why. you, too, have come from above, beautiful angel, to confront me? what an honor," he continues to sweet-talk you while admiring your figure, taking in your delicate features up close, from your eyelids and cheekbones to your torso, which was cradled by a white garment that suited your purity.

the first pale glimmer of twilight bled into the horizon, your wings arching gracefully behind you as the golden light of the setting sun bathed you and the man in a warm glow. the following words he uttered next sent a shiver down your spine as he approaches you closer.

"and who you might be?" you ask softly, a small quiet giggle escaping your lips that makes his smile grow wider as he shakes his head at the sides at your innocent question.

"i am the one we love and don’t know," he says, his voice wrapping around you like a silken thread, his eyes gleaming with a hidden fire, "on man, i have founded my empire of flame, in the desires of the heart, in the dreams of the soul, in the bonds of bodies, mysterious attractions, in the treasures of the blood, in the looks of the eyes."

you feel your wings twitch, your controlled elegance slipping for a minute. you clenched your hands into closed fists, attempting to steady yourself against the draw of his words as he moved closer, and closer, his presence entrancing you.

"i make wives speak in their dreams, learn happy lies. i give them nights which console days.. so you can say, i am the secret king of secret loves, dear angel," his gaze bore into yours, unyielding and magnetic, piercing your very soul as a light blush colored your cheeks, and you lowered your gaze, "i am no man with ill intentions, i am but a comforter.."

"i give to the earth the pleasure of the evenings and the goods of the mystery," his voice softened, almost tender as he saw the expression on your face.

the sun starts to set, and as darkness fell over the soil you walked on, you felt the shadows come alive around you, and when the final rays of sunlight vanished, your surroundings changed.

countless spirits appeared from the growing shadows of the trees. the night seemed to vibrate with an unusual energy, scented dew began to drop on the orange trees, lilac, and thyme, and he held his arms wide to encompass the entire scenery before you.

you stared in a daze as a nightingale rose towards the now-starry sky, its song heralding the young man's beloved hour. every creature and flower appeared to come alive in response to his presence. your breath caught as voices whispered among the trees, their words melting into the night's music, and it filled the air, with trees and bushes adding to the midnight chorus.

you couldn't help but tremble slightly at the change of surroundings, the aura now present in the air in his midst. your wings folding tightly behind your back as you look up at him.

he stepped closer once more over to your frame, his dark enigmatic yet sharp eyes never leaving your face as he speaks in a soothing whisper that caressed your very soul.

"do not fret me. i understand it completely, it is natural to be drawn to the unknown, to the mysteries that lie beyond the daylight's reach. you are not alone in this curiosity. many before you have felt this same pull, this same longing." he coos in a coaxing, gentle tone.

"you've always been a curious little thing, hmm? well, it's the same for me, dear," he chuckles softly, comforting you, as if he knows you, which he does. he is quite familiar with you.

"i, too, am curious. i, too, question what is unlawful or even ponder about the greatest order among the heavenly creatures like you. perhaps that way, we too, share a similar nature in that sense?" he says, causing you to shiver, the warmth and blush on your cheeks deepening as he reaches out to cup your face in his palm.

he leans in closer, his face hovering near yours, not quite touching but close enough for you to feel his warmth, his hot breath, trickling your skin, "angels like you, like us, have always been meant for purity, for light."

"wait, what are you saying?" you sputter out softly in disbelief. his name was oddly similiar, familiar, as he takes his other hand, now fully cupping your face so delicately in his palms, holding you as if he has the world in his own very hands.

"what i'm saying is that even the purest light casts a shadow," he gently squeezes your face, his eyes drawing down to your innocent yet curious, baffled gaze, and plump lips, "it is what the higher angels above us are so afraid of, hence they brand the curious unfit and unworthy of grace. they deny the parts of themselves that are curious, that yearn for something more, but it is not a sin to feel, [name]. in fact, it is what makes existence so beautifully complex."

"and that's why they labeled the fallen angel before as such?" you whisper softly, your gaze faltering.

"you are strong, [name], and oh so loving, i can see it clear as the day," he says softly, his voice like velvet, adding more fire to the flame of your inner conflict, "but even the strongest hearts can be softened. i do not seek to destroy you, or lead you astray, but to show you the beauty that lies in the shadows, the wonders that the night holds, the very same one that you have heard of dared to step upon of."

he presses his forehead against your own before he leans into your ear, whispering like the snake that tempted eve to take the forbidden fruit, "i offer a reprieve, a moment of solace. take my hand, dear, and step into the night and discover its secrets. i know you wish to seek out the same thing that condemned your fellow angel."

with quivering palms, you gently raised your gaze to meet his. your heart pounded in your chest, echoing the internal conflict you were fighting.

his dark eyes were gentle and welcoming, promising understanding and comfort, reminiscent of the fallen angel you've heard of over and over back in heaven.

"how do you know all of this? just, who are you?" you stammer out softly. your resolve was weakeneing, and for a brief moment, you were on the verge of giving in, letting go of your fears and entering the unknown, the same unknown into which the previous fallen angel had descended from grace to.

"i go by many names, but call me shuji.. at least for now," he chuckles, seeing the conflict in your eyes, reminding him of the power of his words, the allure of his presence, and he knew that, eventually, even the strongest of hearts, the purest of pure, could be coaxed into the embrace of the night.

you furrow your brows, and you can't help but feel such tension as your wings twitched. you wanted to resist. this seems all too much, all for someone you just met. it was never too late to draw yourself from the temptation that 'shuji' presents, but he was right. you have always been a curious little thing. you longed to know. you longed the offer.

"i don't know, i don't think.." you say softly, fidgeting your fingers as you look down at your feet. the night air hung heavy with the darkness of the starry sky pressing in with a strange tangible weight.

"aww, it's alright. you don't have to decide anything right now, sweetheart," he murmurs, his tone of voice a soothing balm to your conflicted emotions, "it's natural to feel hesitant to delve deep into the unknown.. i should know."

you look up at him, your eyes meeting his for a brief second before pulling away, the intensity of his gaze too much to take. he reaches a hand, not to touch, but to give, a sign of silent understanding of your turmoil.

"would you like some company instead?" he asks gently, his words wrapping around you like a warm embrace, "you don't have to agree to anything beyond that. how about it?"

such a strange man, but persistent. your fingers halting their anxious dance at the prospect of companionship. however, a part of you remains apprehensive, aware of the perils of his charm and the tempting draw of his words.

seeing your hesitancy, 'shuji' softens his gaze even more, his face one of genuine concern. "it's just for now."

and he promises you with a smile that masks a hidden intention, "no commitments, no decisions. just two souls sharing a moment in the quiet of the night. we can talk, or sit in silence, whatever brings you peace, sweetheart."

a part of you yearns for the peace his presence appears to offer, the comfort of another's company in the middle of your turmoil. you lift your gaze to meet his again, looking for any hint of deception, any trace of the manipulative charm you fear.

but all you see is patience, an invitation without pressure, a promise of understanding with no strings attached. you take a deep breath, feeling the weight of your uncertainty lift just a little.

"okay, but just for a short while.." you say quietly, barely audible.

thus, his smile widens at your acceptance, and for a brief moment, his little facade almost crumbles at the thought of effectively persuading you. just a little more, he thinks to himself. it was only a matter of time before he received what he desired from you.

after all, he was already drawn to you.

he extends his hand to you. you stare at his hand for a moment before placing your hand in his, sensing the warmth of his touch. you stroll in silence, the route lit by the faint glow of starlight and the distant sounds of night birds.

when you follow him, the land surrounding slowly vanishes that hums with a distinct eerie force. he pauses and returns your gaze with a comforting smile, "trust me," he adds quietly, his eyes showing a mix of eagerness and affection.

taking a deep breath, you nod and allow him to lead you, and before you know it, the world swirls around you, but when the swirling light fades, you find yourself standing on the outskirts of a peaceful, terrestrial scene.

the air is crisp and fresh, with a subtle aroma of budding flowers and earthy tones from a neighboring forest. the sky above is a deep, velvety blue, speckled with stars that appear close enough to touch, and a leisurely river flows through the landscape, its surface like a plethora of small diamonds in the moonlight.

he walks you to a grassy knoll that overlooks the river. the ground beneath your feet is soft and welcoming, making it the ideal place to relax and enjoy the scenery.

he sits down and motions for you to join him. as you lower yourself to the ground, a sense of calm comes over you.

"this place," he says, "is a hidden gem on earth. far from the heavens, yet it holds its own kind of magic.”

you gaze around, taking in the soft sway of the trees, the rhythmic murmur of the river, and the peaceful symphony of the night creatures. it's a spot that feels both unspoiled and ageless, a haven where the stresses of the world appear to fade away.

you close your eyes and let the sounds of nature wash over you. the subtle rustle of leaves, the sweet crooning of faraway night birds, and the flow of the river all combine to form a lovely lullaby, and you sense his presence beside you as a steady, comforting anchor.

after a while, you open your eyes to look at him. "this place is beautiful. every bit of this just reminds me of how lovely the earth may be, just as it is above."

he grins at your naive yet honest comments as you continue to speak, "i can't help but wonder, your majesty," you say now, giggling now as you are more relaxed, as you address him as such since he names himself the king of secret loves.

"wonder about what? what's going on inside that pretty little head of yours?" he muses you.

"you seem to know a lot of things. you even know about fallen angels.." you mutter quietly now, recalling his words earlier, his offer to you, "but i suppose it's only natural. you do call yourself a king of secret loves, and a king does know a lot, for a king carries both a crown and a burden after all."

you fiddle with the hem of the white dress hugging your body as you look at him, asking him the very same thing you question in regards to the gods and celestials above, "but do tell me, shuji. is not everyone deserving of grace? a second chance at forgiveness?"

'shuji's' gaze darkens for a brief moment as he contemplates your thoughts. he shifts slightly, turning to face you more directly, his stare incisive but compassionate. he bites his lip for a brief moment before he speaks his truth.

he says slowly, as if weighing his words carefully, "forgiveness, it is a complex thing. it's not just something that can be given or taken; it has to be earned, understood, and sometimes even fought for."

he pauses, gazing up at the starlit, night sky, as if he was looking for answers in the distant lights just like you, "i have seen those who have fallen, who have made mistakes, and who have sought redemption.. so if you ask me, my dear, the path to forgiveness is not always certain."

your eyes widen at his words, every word hitting a deep part of your heart. you lean in closer to him, your interest peaked as you can't help but question him," do you speak from experience? have you ever known someone who has walked that path?"

a shadow covers his face, momentarily yet noticeable. he returns his smile to you, albeit with a trace of melancholy, "hmm, perhaps you can say that? hah, we all have secrets and burdens to bear.."

"one thing is certain though," he says, reaching out to you once more, his fingers brushing against yours, "we are all searching for our own paths to grace. after all, we all long for grace. do we not?"

"that's true," you nod slowly at his words, finding solace in them.

however, his fingers tighten around yours, his voice tinged with longingness, "but sometimes, it is not all we long for. sometimes, we all long for something else.."

your eyes widen once more as you lock eyes with him, seeing an intensity of emotions in them, a depth you've never seen before in those brown eyes of his.

he pulls you closer to him, his touch firm yet gentle as if he was handling such a delicate flower, afraid to let it go or wither away. your body presses against his, and he feels warm.

"stay the night with me, pretty archangel," he whispers to you in such a way that sends a shiver down your spine, "just for tonight."

you feel your heart race, the closeness of his body against yours was making you acutely aware of every sensation. the warmth of his hand and breath mingling with the night air, and the longing in his eyes, a silent plea that tugs something within you.

"but, why?" you ask softly, blinking in confusion.

"because i long for you, dear," there it was again, the seduction in his voice, the honeyed tone he used on you before when he made you an offer, and this time it was filled with naked honesty.

you experience a plethora of emotions within you, including dread, exhilaration, and.. a strange yet evident attraction to him, but you hesitate nonetheless at this second, other offer he asks of you.

he reaches up, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear as he reassures you, luring you in secret, "come on, sweetheart. just for tonight. i won't keep you for too long.."

there was a deep yearning in his eyes that mirrors your own, and this time you were unable to turn away from the temptation this offer unlike earlier. slowly, you nod your head, allowing yourself to lean into the moment, into him.

"okay, just for tonight.." you mutter softly, finally giving in.

he pulls you in closer, almost wrapping his arm over you, almost too possessively, and the next thing you know, he's guiding you somewhere more private, away from the outside world.

he walks you to a much darker, almost secluded path. it was as if the scenery was shifting again into something else again. the stars above appear to dim, their light absorbed by the dense canopy of trees.

the air becomes cooler, and a sense of gloom permeates the night's peacefulness. eventually, you come across a concealed cabin, its shadowy silhouette just apparent in the darkness.

he opens the door for you, his movements deliberate and controlled, and ushers you inside, almost desperately.

the room is dimly illuminated, with the flickering fire creating long, dancing shadows on the walls. he leads you to a massive, imposing bed, with dark sheets and heavy blankets that nearly swallow you whole. you sit down, feeling the smooth, enveloping fabric under you, as 'shuji' stands nearby, his presence looming and intense.

you look around, the shadows appearing to close in around you. there's an inescapable intimacy here, a refuge from the world but also a trap from which there's no way out.

and he looks at you with triumphant eyes, as if he has finally found what he has been looking for.

he reaches out, his grip solid, and grabs your hand in his, "you have no idea just how glad i am to have you here."

his voice was possessive as he looks at you with the same longing from earlier, "having you right where i want you... it's what i long for."

you look at him with a mix of fear and excitement in your eyes. the moment has an electric intensity to it, as if it were a dream on the verge of becoming a nightmare.

the look in his intensifies as he leans into you, his warm breath up against your skin. without warning, he suddenly pulls you down onto the bed with him in one swift moment that you barely had time to react as your wings twitch and flap in surprise behind you.

he grips you tightly with the same possessiveness as you feel his body press against yours, and this time the look in his eyes was almost predatory. he stares down your delicate face, from your [color] eyes to your form, just as he had when he first lay eyes on you, this time relishing the moment even more because he was so close to you.

his fingers trace goosebumps on your arm as the air between you and him now cackles with an unspoken tension, with an unbearable anticipation, especially for him.

and so, with a sudden decisive movement, he tilts your chin up to him and he presses his lips against yours, and it was a fierce and possessive kiss that leaves you breathless, yet breathlessly wanting more.

the outside world fades away as he claims your lips, leaving you with the mere sensation of his lips and body pressing against yours. he tightens his grip around you as you let out a soft whine, but you do not let go or even struggle against him at all.

instead, you find your fingers entangling themselves in his messy locks of brown hair as he kisses you with such need, as if he's imprinting himself on you.

you feel the roughness of his breath and the urgency in his touch as his arms envelop you like promise and a warning, and it was overwhelming your senses.

after a brief moment, he pulls away from your lips, ragged gasps for air escaping his breath, but he doesn't let go. he's never letting you go. his hold on you was firm as ever and you can see the satisfaction in his eyes, taking dark pleasure in having you like this, at this very moment, completely and utterly his.

"stay with me, alright? let me have you, sweetheart," he murmurs against your lips.

you slowly nod your head, unable to find your voice as you lose yourself in his intense gaze and the sensation of his kiss, and as he leans in to capture your lips in another kiss, you know that tonight, you're his.

and then, with a dark glint in his eyes, he suddenly says, "call me osamu."

the name sends a shock through you, causing you to pale. osamu. the same name as the fallen angel you had been warned about, dazai osamu. your heart pounds against your chest at the realization, hitting you like a bolt of lightning, and finally, you see it. the flicker in his eyes, behind the tender facade he had been holding.

"osamu?" your voice trembles at the utter of his name.

he smiles a knowing smile towards you, "yes, osamu. call me osamu."

the unspoken truth hangs heavy in the air. the man holding you was no ordinary being. he was no king. he was no mere mortal. this man, he used to be an angel of the highest grade. he's the fallen angel you heard of, the one who had been cast out of heaven, and now he was the one who craves to touch you.

osamu brushes his fingers against your cheek in a gentle touch, "i told you earlier, didn’t i? you shouldn't be afraid. i'm not even here to hurt you at all, my beautiful archangel."

your mind and heart became in conflict with one another, but your body responds to his presence, the same way this fallen angel was drawn to your embrace. and besides, didn’t you think so yourself? everybody is worthy of love and grace. even if it was dazai osamu..

so, this was alright. it should be.

"then, what do you want from me?" you ask softly.

"i just want to be with you." he whispers before kissing you again, and his name echoes in your mind, sweeping you with a dark allure.

"i long for you, [name]."

𝐀.𝐍. ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ it's been a long while since i've written anything, so consider this as my comeback stage after being beaten up by my major, so i'm glad to have finally published the first chapter of my latest series, wahoo <3 <3

𝐏.𝐒. ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ osamu disguising himself as shuji was on purpose. it's a reference to the real dazai osamu's name, shuji tsushima. i also took some lines from the inspo/reference of this fic from the poem of eloa, from the second song/stanza. the next part of his chapter is just gonna be some smut, so feel free to skip it. okay? okay !

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ @little-miss-chaoss @anonymousewrites @chaiifluuf @sosograndii @anqelically @blueberrisdove @cheriiyaya @avocate-assia-dazai @yushiba-tsukyoh @cupidszvlvr @snowsilver2000 @cvidy @dummytwo @kissesmellow21 @angelofdarkness2 @muichirolover23 @milky-aeons @pompompurin1028 @pe4rl-diver @dzaisamou @iloveemiatas @kentopedia @aureatchi @its-vante @haesify @fyorina @atlasnessie

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #bungo stray dogs x y/n #dazai x y/n #dazai x you #dazai x fem reader #bsd dazai #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu x y/n #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd imagines #bsd fanfic #bungo stray dogs dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai

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2af-afterdark · 8 months ago

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Paradise Lost is the Safest Kingdom in Hell and That's Absolutely Terrifying

After playing The Two Stars that Fell From the Sky event, I have come to the conclusion that Paradise Lost must be the safest kingdom in Hell. That is amazing as it is virtually untouchable, but it is also completely and utterly terrifying.

We all know that Paradise Lost is home to the healers who can treat seemingly any injury or ailment, but with the introduction of Gamigin we know that also includes death.

Make no mistake. Marbas, Morax, and Buer were dead. They died at the hands of the angels that were attacking them, but Gamigin was able to bring them back. In Paradise Lost, death is practically if not completely non-existent. The devils of Paradise Lost have no fear of death, so they are willing and able to take actions that endanger themselves with a relaxed nature.

When these events happened, they were listening to Lucifer recall the tale of how he became a devil. They were already injured and being attacked, but they did nothing to protect themselves or defeat the angels because they deemed Lucifer's tale more important, despite the fact that they were actively dying.

Lucifer and Gamigin seem to also have this mindset, since Lucifer doesn't have much of a reaction to his nobles dying other than realizing he's been talking for too long and they all need to go home. He knows Gamigin will heal them and Gamigin knows he can bring them back.

And once the nobles are up and operational again, they are a force to be reckoned with in a way that other kingdoms cannot compare. Because they are all healers, they are able to heal one another while also fighting. They are an impenetrable, undeafeatable force when they want to be.

Paradise Lost has no sense of death or fear of death. They don't seem to even fear getting hurt. The way they think of and address one of the most universal aspects of existence is... terrifying. I don't have the proper words to describe how eerie it is that they don't see death as an issue.

That's before you also take into account that Paradise Lost itself is impenetrable due to Lucifer's command. All those that try to cross into Paradise Lost will die because Lucifer ordered it so.

This make Paradise Lost the only kingdom we know of that angels cannot enter. Add on the fact that everyone is healing every injury, and Paradise Lost really is the safest kingdom, completely separated from the tragedies of war or the consequences of living within its walls.

It's a land separated from 'existence' so to speak. Truly terrifying.

#what in hell is bad #whb spoilers #whb theory

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tmwcs · 6 months ago

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WARNINGS: This is written in Heethan’s y/n perspective, mentions of ritualistic killings, alternative universes, religious references (some accurate and some fictional), all heeleads, all y/n’s, references to SE7EN, MERMAIDS TALE, MGR/MRE/HHP, THE OTHERSIDE and DOUBLE TROUBLE (I would high suggest reading all these series before reading this), unprotected smut, angels and demons, angels are bad guys, devils are good guys, kidnapping, time and space travel, alternate characters, some cursing, grotesque language, sexual tension, some fluff, and some intermingling moments, (enough to give you some ideas 😏) images and smaus attached, cliche rescue mission, and I think that’s it.

A/N: this was just an idea that came to mind as I was listening to music. A fun read.

Turmoil stirs the middle of the sky, a collection of debris, dust, and smoke circulate within it. The strong current of gravitational force absorbs bits and pieces of man-made features, further expanding its reign of terror.

It was a force to be reckoned with, a whirlwind of evil spirits, angels, and demons combined, formulating an abomination that was neither Heaven, nor Hell. Two worlds of entities unite, all embracing the common ground that humans were a non-sensible creation by God. In their eyes, humans were nothing but livestock for the immortals.

The senior head of this ritualistic army had an idea—a new image for the aged world, where unearthly entities would herd and breed the human race…In preparation for the grand feast. With this process in place, the world would be controlled by themselves, gaining power to extend their influence through alternate space and time. All the parallel universes that were constantly being created, would become restricted, ceasing the expansion of human life.

“My followers…the time has come where we need to take back what is owed to us. WE have lurked in darkness far too long, feeding on the scraps of these scavengers…these HUMANS!” His head contained three faces, one centered and nestled in between the two disfigured profiles. Their mouths remained wide open, agasp with horror while the center focal features did all the talking, carrying all the range of emotions. “WE have been betrayed by both, God and the Devil…the two fathers who should have been nurturing us, ignored our caution instead. They turned their backs on us; made us starve as we craved for sustenance and glory…but no more! Today, we strike and take the blood of the most beloved, the one who carries the light of God, and the blood of Lucifer! This I pray…my demons of carnage, and angels of darkness…do not stop at just the one…take them all! Search through every vortex of this abysmal continent. Go above the universal horizon, far and wide through space and time, and gather your efforts— leave no part of the cosmic galaxy unturned. Raid the entire universes, all worlds, and bring me her adaptations. Bring forth every variation of her current soul, so that we may tear, grind, and feast on that delicate flesh…let us hit them where it hurts most…let us seek to make God cry, and break the heart of the Devil.”

The spawn of angels and demons scatter in mass multitudes, covering the entire sky while they surpass greater heights, surrounding their numbers across every comet and planet.

Finding you in this world was simple. Entirely too easy…

Like any other given day, you sat in class next to h/n, drafting the primary notes as your professor read the lecture aloud. The yelling of a fellow classmate startled the entire classroom, catching everyone off guard.

“What the fuck is that?!”

Everyone turned to view the scenery outside the window. The light blue sky grows dark, as the horizon blackened with a darkened hue. The foliage draping the tree branches suddenly shriveled and died off. The air around the building turned black; everyone became frantic and ignored the professor's false sense of composure. He tried his best but it was easy to see that he too was frightened and didn’t know how to handle the stirring frenzy that took place inside the room.

“What the Hell is going on?! Why did the sky get so dark all of a sudden?” H/n spoke out with tears glossing over her eyes as the girl sitting next to her called home. She hectically informs her mother of the unknowns that were happening outside the campus, all the while you barely spoke, or reacted as you overheard the girl's decree. The shock of it all stunned you; it wasn’t until your phone began buzzing that you came back to your senses.

The moment his own classmates sporadically spiraled out of control, Heeseung wasted no time in getting out. He had to get to you.

You were the first priority on his list. Ignoring his own safety, he bursts through the door— the only one brave enough to kick it wide open before sprinting towards the parking lot. Everyone whispered and spoke harshly as they watched the young man making his way over to you. God help anyone if something happens to you.

In an instant, everything turned upside down. You’re not sure what or how it happened, but it felt as if a group of hands were pulling you from side to side, pushing and tugging at the same time. Looking around, it seemed as if time was at a standstill. The entire class paused in mid motion, gravity lost its effect as students jumping out the window were stationed in mid air, unmoved. What was going on? Were you the only one that could move? The only one that wasn’t affected by this loss of motion? If so….did that mean that Heeseung…

……..

It occurred in a blink of an eye.

What the hell just happened? For a moment, Heeseung felt as if his heart had stopped beating. It happened during mid drive, when suddenly the roaring engine slurred, and the small bit of ash and debris in the air slowed until they froze in place. It wasn’t long before his own movements came to a pause, and before he knew it, he could no longer breathe. It was odd, despite not being able to take in air, the pressure from his chest was fine, almost as if he was holding his own breath.

It held on for two seconds before the distant sound of the engine grew louder and the tires resumed rotation, causing a sudden screeching noise to puncture his ears. What the fuck…!

The only thing that lingered on his mind was you. Shit…y/n! Hold on baby…

By the time he reached the building, merely two minutes after receiving your last text, you had already been taken.

Everyone stood wondering just the same as to what had occurred. They looked around and noticed nothing out of the ordinary, except when h/n pointed out your sudden absence. “Huh?…Anyone seen where y/n went? She was just right…here….”

Her voice subtly pauses as Heeseung silently walks through the double doors, with you nowhere in sight…his heart dropped to his stomach and a total sense of despair hit him. He wanted to die…he wanted to shake the earth to its core and kill off every bit of life that coated the surface. A state of hopelessness and emptiness fills him.

‘Y/n…’

…….

One by one, the entities visited alternate universes and found four more women, conjoining them as prisoners and leaving you all chained in a row. Brought forth, you all were all scanned with a morbid look of satisfaction as an alienated, metallic figure screeched through hundreds of jagged teeth, directing its elongated fingers to a specific direction. It was communicating with its more fleshy counterparts.

They marched you and the remaining maidens into a large bunker, nearly shoving you all down the uneasy steps. Once inside, a single light source allows you to take in the view of the abrupt companionship you were forced to confront.

‘Is…is this for real?’

The strangest phenomenon you ever witnessed. It was as if you were staring into a mirror, or a twin…several twin versions in fact.

These girls…they were…you. Some of them displayed subtle alterations of your appearance such as hair and eye color, even a small difference in age. But make no mistake, you pinched the skin on your arm as you confirmed that indeed, you were seeing yourself in various substitutions.

“I…don’t believe this…are you all….who are you?” One of the girls reflected aloud. Just as lost as you were, each one took a moment to observe the variations of…you.

A terrifying screech sounds off outside the bunker, similar to that of the metallic humanoid creature from earlier.

“What are those things?” The one who spoke, she looked and sounded exactly like you. It was such a surreal experience to see this happening in real time.

She looked more mature. With her sense of style and elegance, she encompassed the very essence of classy feminine virtue, a version that you always saw in yourself in the near future, when you were married and already graduated from college. Her hair and eye color were lighter than yours, but the structure of her face and body, the finer details of her expression and features were an exact match to your own.

“Does anyone know why we are here? What do those things want from us?” another variation of yourself spoke delicately.

Unlike the latter, who had hair that was fair and eyes that sparkled in chromes of light blue, this one had dark forest green hair, and feline eyes, which were both fierce and strikingly beautiful. She had the appeal of one with great wisdom and maturity, a variation of yourself that you never could imagine would exist. She continued to speak, pondering on the forceful monsters that wreaked havoc above and outside the bunker. “The one we saw earlier, whose body looked like metal, was that a...”

A calm voice speaks gracefully, politely inserting into the conversation. Her voice was slightly deeper, and tranquil, but not as twinkling as the one who carried the forest green locks. With those lips, stained blood red and coated with a subtle shine, she answers…“They’re angels.”

Everyone else turned to face in her direction. You all stared and admired the royal grace she portrays in her stance, it gave off an aura that reflected her higher age. It didn’t appear in her face, but it was through her persona and posture. Just like the one with the emerald strands, she displayed elegance in all aspects; her features, tone, and strut. Of all the variations that stood before you, she was the one you became most curious about.

“Angels? As in…from heaven?” Another variation, except this one seemed much more calm—perhaps too much.

Her lids were heavy and she spoke with a monotone voice. Her hair was stained a deep and vibrant color. It looked somewhat fresh, and contained a specific shade of purple, but not just any code of the color. It was not lavender, violet, or even muave, but more like a royal purple…it was as if the color was mixed specifically to match a certain shade. Maybe a particular flower? Perhaps it was made to match a blouse, or a type of fabric, like silk.

Noticing her demeanor, you couldn’t help but feel sorry as you took pity on this image of yourself; one that carried a dark sadness around, yet somehow flared a sense of contentment. It was contradicting, yet there eas something else that you couldn’t pin down about her. Almost as if she was carrying a nightmarish secret, but did it out of protection. Only question was, who is she protecting? Was it herself? Or could it be…?

You catch yourself drifting in thought when one of the girls asks your age. She inquired by stating that you looked the youngest, which was confirmed correct after you answered. Between you and your alternate state of beings, your ages ranged from eighteen to twenty eight, the latter title of the eldest belonging to the one with the dark burgundy lips.

She gazes up to the cathedral ceiling and crosses her arms, speaking out each word so confidently. Her hair was dark, nearly black with a deep, red hue…like red wine, and nails to match. She radiated a contrasting theme of goth and sensual femininity, like light and darkness combined. Everyone thought the same as they pondered on the mysteriously alluring sense of their alternate identity.

“Angels? How do you know? Have you seen them before?” The eldest one nods in response. Her eyes were heavy, as if she experienced a loss in energy recently. Still, she remained ever so composed and fashionable in Vogue like nature. You couldn’t help but think it, as somewhat narcissistic the thought may have seemed, but you found yourself idolizing what very much was the future outlook of yourself.

“This is so strange…it’s so weird to see…you…or me…I mean….what are we, exactly?” You sputtered as you make eye contact with the seldom one with the royal purple thatch of hair. She smiled softly and was the first one to respond.

“I am almost sure what our names will be, but I’ll be the first to say it…my name is y/n…”

Everyone snapped their heads up and chuckled in delight. Finally, a sense of relaxed humor amongst this terrifying ordeal. “We all have the same name?” The fairer version of you spoke, admitting for all of you to find comfort within each other.

The former y/n continued. “I guess we do.” You smile sweetly as you inquire about her background, to which she gently responds. “I worked as a consultant after graduating college and… “ she pauses, catching her breath. It was evident that the girl had been through a traumatizing experience, or maybe was still going through it all. Yet she displayed some fortitude as she completed her sentence. “I live with my husband…somehow I was brought here and I don’t have any memory of it. It happened so fast.”

“Me too….” The fairer one spoke. Her shiny hair gracefully rested beneath her collarbones as she spoke through her matte rosy stained lips. A beautiful combination. You couldn’t get over this experience, It was miraculous to see yourself with those featured traits. You wondered if variations of those closest to you exist, like Heeseung, Jake, and H/n. The thought of the three suppressed your slight bit of happiness as you wondered if you’d be able to escape with the others.

“I live with my husband too…well…husbands, if we’re being completely open.”

You all perked a brow upon her words. Did those rosy lips just tell you correctly…“Husbands?”

She nods seldomly while interlocking her fingers above the waist, avoiding eye contact and instead, focusing on a spot on the floorboards. “Yes….my husbands are brothers…and through them I have two boys of my own.” She pauses as her eyes welt up. “I…was putting my boys to sleep when something pulled me away from them…it was strange…it almost seemed like time was standing still.”

“Me too!” You spoke out. “I saw the same thing when I was pulled away.”

The fairer one smiled at you. “You are still so young…a younger version of myself.” Her change of topic was so sudden but she could see it in your face, hear it in your voice, and see it in your movements; seeing you in fluid motion made her visit down memory lane. “Yes.” You answered as you returned the smile. “I'm almost finished with my first year at college…I live with my fiance in his dorm.”

You all chuckled.

“His dorm?” The fairer one teases. “Yes well…believe it or not I don’t really have a choice.” You jest, yet the statement held more truth than anything you ever admitted.

It didn’t take time to consider their reaction. Upon hinting at Heeseung’s dark and toxic nature, it soon became evident you weren’t the only one. Unknowingly, you would open up another path that you all shared in common.

“He keeps you there?” You nod as the one with the dark forest green hair spoke. “Ah…” she sighs. “Just like mine…at least he used to. Now…well, I gave up. There wasn’t any point in fighting it.”

She chuckles once more as she rubs her temples, finding the entire scenario ironic. “I too live with my husband…it started just as forcefully as your situation but it’s been over two years now…” she pauses. The rest of the girl’s all related, all but you.

“Well…it is forceful but…he has good intentions, doesn’t he?” You inquired as the one with the dark green hair looks back up. A faint smile dons her lips as her delicate nails caressed her chin. With beauty and truth to her tone, she responded, almost in caution of warning. “Just like your fiance, he has the best…and the worst intentions.”

“What about you? Are you also married to a psycho? Or two?” The one married to dual husbands jokes, stabbing at her own life as she includes the last variant into the conversation. The eldest; she was the most elusive one out of all of you.

Turning her face over, she delivers a soft gaze and looks at each one of you with such nurture in her expression. Through those dark burgundy lips, she spoke gently. “I do.” She lightly chuckles. “I live with my husband, and much like all of you…I didn’t really have a choice.”

Closing her eyes, she reopens with a fresh countenance. Licking her loose she chuckles and tilts her head, taking small steps over to you. She cups your face and displays a saddened look, yet it was paired with a sweet smile. Her gaze hinted that she knew something…or maybe she could see something within your future that made her pity you.

With her intuitional sense, and foresighting ability, she reveals your deepest secret.

“You have another side of you…one that is equal to his darker half.”

Was she referring to Eden and Ethan? But…how does she know?

You slightly gasp as you remained stunned by her words. She looks over to the one with the dark green hair. “You and your husband carry the blood of the ancient gods within you.”

In response, the sea maiden looked somewhat confused. “How could you possibly know that?”

The former admits partial truth to her own secret. “I know all…I can see all….I can see your most inner kept secrets just by looking into your eyes. It was a gift from my husband after we were…” she pauses after catching herself diving down to details to at may be too indiscreet. The image of Heeseung’s devilish form atop of her, probing and thrusting away was not something she wanted the girls to visualize…she rather not think about it herself, despite the progression of her relationship to the aforementioned male. “Married.”

She turns to the fairer one, and continues to prove her capabilities. “Your husbands sired their own twin sons within you, and through those babies, you found true love.” The latter looks down, almost shamefully. Yet the eldest tilts her chin up and whispers, “nothing wrong with that.” She winks and smiles, and watched as those rosy colored lips smirked delightfully. This was, after all, a safe space for sisters who share more than just identical traits. You were all connected, through fate and soul.

She looked to the one with the royal purple hair. “Your husband's deeds have haunted you. With nowhere to turn, you chose to return his love but you are ridden with sadness knowing that you are his cure.”

The purple haired y/n didn’t say a word, she only nodded in admittance while drifting her sight off to the wall.

“As for me…” she pauses as she faces the ceiling once more. “I made a deal with the Devil many years ago. Through it, I lost my mortality, and gained immortality…I am known as the mortal daughter of God, but rebirthed as the bride of Helel...my husband, and father to my son.”

“Helel?” Through her purple strands, the girl spoke out of confusion. Never has she heard such a distinctive name in her life.

Just as the conversation reached pause, the door to the bunker opens. A combination of the hostile angels and demons standby. A disfigured tone emits from their tongue as they point and begin separating you away from one another.

You felt scared upon seeing the fleshy demon grip your wrist, pulling you away as the others were being dragged into sporadic direction. The girls all tried their best to fight off the large swarm, and recollect. Through a shared sense, there was a need to get back to you, the younger version of themselves. The need to protect each other and stay together remained strong, however, the monsters proved too strong as their numbers increased. They found it easier to carry you away into singular, isolated chambers. The echoes of their screams, sounding so much like your own voice, become distant and unheard.

You backed yourself against the cold stone wall and slid down until the tile flooring meets your rear. All seemed hopeless at this point. The terrifying sounds of demonic growls and piercing angelic screeches merge from outside the door, all frenzying as they carry out their next deed, whatever that could be. It was too frightening to think about. What is going to happen? How is Heeseung going to save you this time? Your Heeseung…the one who is always there to bring you back home…how is he going to possibly find you? You don’t even know where you are.

‘Heeseung…I’m scared.’

You wonder if the others felt just as scared and hopeless.

The fear of being lonesome started to eat you alive, it was far worse than when Heeseung carried out one of his punishments, and locked you away for breaking his rules. You hated it more than ever, being secured away in darkness and suffering from desolation. Looking back at it, his method seemed tamed compared to how you were currently being treated.

You also knew, despite succumbing to the harsh effects of being tied to a bed frame, or locked inside a closet, at least the comfort of knowing he was going to be around…that he was always going to come back to get you, whether it was hours or a day later, was something you had lost appreciation for in the past, but yearned for it more than ever. He was always there to make sure you were safe, despite carrying out an act that clearly violated your human rights…it was his way of loving you…his manner of understanding it.

‘I wouldn’t have to do this shit if you’d listen and just do what I tell you. It’s all for a good reason…”

His words from past recollections continue to play in your head.

‘To keep you safe…and to keep you as MINE. Get it through that dumb, pretty little head of yours already. No matter how many times you fight me on this, you’re going to lose.’

You used to scoff at his justification, growing irritated at his own resolve. You always figured he was overreacting.

All those times when you were caught speaking to someone from class outside at the parking lot, didn’t matter if they were boy or girl, he’d always became so possessively evil, and jealous. His handsome smirk goes from dashing to sinister as he lets out the wolf from its cage: Ethan.

But no matter how emotionally tormenting…or mentally abusive he could be…one thing would always remain true, and that was his unyielding love for you…just you.

The door knob twists violently as the door panel rambles, snapping you out of mid thought. You stood up and cornered yourself, completely frightened by what was on the other side. Finally breaking open, it swings wide inward. You swore your eyes were going to fall through the sockets. It couldn’t be… “H-Heeseung?”

Tears balled up and your heart pauses in mid-pulse. He steps closer in towards the light and there you saw, it was Heeseung…but he seemed different. His attire was similar, but his hair…it carried a particularly familiar shade of purple, just like—

“Hmph…” he smirks, daring a bold look as he scans you up and down. “So this is what you looked like when you were eighteen.”

The way his words growled upon stating your tender age sent a shiver up your spine, a familiar sense that you were accustomed to. “Damn, so this is what you were like at eighteen… you were just born perfect, weren’t you?” A snarling wink flashes you.

He reaches and grabs your wrist. “Gotta hurry princess.”

Leading the way and keeping you close behind, he rubs his fingers and gently massages your skin in his hold. His cologne was so different from the Heeseung you knew. It was a musky scent of blue agave and sandalwood.

Luring you around every corner, running past a hall filled with portraits, you finally configured where the entities had been keeping you, it was an old church.

“W-what about the others…the other—“

He calmly interjects as you stuttered, trying to find a way to describe the collection of your alternate self, including the one who you suspected belonged to him.

“We should be seeing them soon.” He spoke as he remained attentive to the surroundings. You were so taken aback by his resemblance that you were ignorant of the weapon he held…a machete?

“H-how did you find us?” You questioned. He tightens his grasp as he leads you down a spiraling staircase, completely made of stone. “Met the others—something about getting all of the you’s and I’s out, and back to our respective universes. There was also something about a demon who wanted to piss off God, and the Devil, blah, blah, blah.”

He spoke carelessly and left out all of the vague details as he remained focused in getting you to safety. Just as you both reached the main cathedral, you witness from across the wide room, all the other variants of yourself were being guided by Heeseung, a few of them. The one right across had ash-blonde hair and….a dark haired one trailing behind…

The y/n with the dark forest green hair stood out as they centered her, providing three-sixty coverage of security. Once they saw you and the Purpled haired Heeseung leading you, they led the other you to rejoin and come to center, surrounding you both in a combative formation.

Also rejoining the group was the one who had the dark purple locks that matched the Heeseung who rescued you; behind her was the alternate version of yourself that carried the red-wine lips. The girls were guided by a version of Heeseung, whose eyes glowed blue and his hair was dark as the ocean.

In the opposite direction, from the corner of your eye you catch on to the fair alternate you, and in front, was him…there he was…Heeseung…your Heeseung, and Ethan.

You could see both entities behind those dangerous eyes. Seeing you safe, along with all the other girls restored life to his gaze as he smiled and felt the weight lifted off his shoulders. ‘There you are…there’s my pretty baby.’

Without stopping, they continued to urge you all to run as they herd each of you to stay centered in their squad position, forming an arrow shape around you and the girls.

Aside from the machete, the other Heeseung’s all bore their own weapons, and from the looks of it, they were most likely found on display in the upper dungeons, which you concluded is where you and the others were being kept prior to being saved.

Your Heeseung gripped on two long swords, while the twins had an ax and a long, steel club, similar to a bat. The other Heeseung with the azure hair skillfully handled a rifle, and had a pistol holstered to his thigh.

The moment of uniting didn’t last pleasantly as the stone tile beneath your feet shook, and the light fixtures rattled above. Something was coming, and it carried enough anger to swell up his size.

Each booming placement of its foot stomping the ground quaked the earth. Just seconds after stabilizing your ground, the grand entrance starts to crack. The arch lining and pillars split apart as an overly muscular frame, with humanoid expressions, enters. He ducked his head in by tucking the chin while the ceiling began to crumble above. When he revealed himself fully, you and the other girls gasped at the horrid sight of the monster before you.

His face was split into three, with six pairs of horns that adorned each head, eluding terrible and frightening expressions. His body was similar to that of a man, with exaggerated muscles that looked to produce enough strength that of an entire army. A long offensive tongue spills out of his evil grin as jagged and serrated teeth flash from the joker wide grin. His eyes resembled that of a goat or sheep, but larger. With both hands containing claws that reached measurement by the foot, you winced at the thought of being grabbed by them. The palms contained numerous spurred teeth that formed hooks, similar to the mouth of a parasite, such as a leech. In fact, his entire body was covered with them, slowly fading as they reached the three facial expressions. There were lacerations that appeared on his chest, opening and closing sporadically. They blinked repeatedly with horrendous teeth and eyes peeking out from beneath the tissue and skin. What on earth was this creature?

Standing in his full glory, he speaks with a diabolical tone. “Leave the women behind, and I shall spare your lives, and bless you with power and immortality. You will become the generals of my league.”

The boys all stood in line, keeping you and the others behind, guarding with their own lives at stake, willing and ready to take on anything. Rather than seeing any bit of you harmed, they all remained solid as they would rather die or be tortured than to see a single scratch on anyone of your bodies. The creature takes their gesture with jests, chuckling before he adds on to his demand.

“You are not the one that I care to gut and split open, yet if you insist, it will be my utmost pleasure to rip all of you apart in front of your precious darlings, and then feast on your corpse afterwards.”

You held on to the girl with the purple locks. Her matured instincts kick in, knocking away the original demeanor she carried before. The troubled and quiet woman feels the need to cradle you, a younger version of herself, and presses you against her chest while she covers your eyes. Peeking out from the corner of her embrace, you saw the purple haired Heeseung peer a faint side eye, noting the comfort she was providing, and the fear that stayed by it. His eyes met with hers, eluding a look of reassurance, as if he were telling her that he wasn’t going to let anything happen. Not him, or his alternate figures.

Heethan also takes in the image of your sheltering. His stern and yet relieved facial expression showed the two sides of his being, Heeseung, and Ethan. He emits a quick nod the moment you make eye contact. ‘Not today…not ever. Nothing is touching a single inch of you, pretty baby.’

The remaining alternate versions of yourself come and join in, grouping you in the center as you all remain behind the boys. The eldest stood right in between, establishing an embrace to shield you and the others as her back was facing the row of Heeseung’s. All five of them stood, readily armed as the creature's patience ran thin. Taking a step forward, the ground cracks, stones protrude inward and wouldn’t hold much longer, nearly collapsing.

The boys step back, urging all of you to back away with caution. You all suddenly halt your movements to safety at the sight of numerous demons and angels suddenly entering from all directions in the cathedral, trapping the entire group to the center beneath the large chandelier.

“It’s useless.” The creature spoke out as his tongue splits into two. “God asked for this…the Devil wanted this.”

The eldest produces a harsh side eye at the creature's mentioning of the latter. Her dark red-wined lips quiver open faintly as she hisses toward the mentioning of his name. The audacity of this creature.

“If only they had heeded our words, and met our demands. We would not be as blood starved. You mortals…you children of the Earth, deserve torture that exceeds the worst kind of death in existence. I should have been granted eternal life in his holy kingdom. It is I, who should have been throned as one of the seven Princes of Hell. Yet both God and Lucifer denied me of what is owed to me. They should have recognized me! The demon Molech! Now…God shall bear witness to the human existence coming to its end, beginning with his only daughter, and the sisters that share her form and soul. Let the heart of the Devil fall into despair upon realizing that his only love would be violated with her innards split, and torn from bone.”

Molech crouches into position, nearly ready to pounce through the boys, and straight to you and the girls. You all could see it in his eyes, the glaring reflection of you and the girls as his primary target. “May all of you scream as I devour you alive, and shit out your guts onto the stones of this very church. I will splatter your organs for all to witness what is coming.”

He lunges forward. It was the last known image that replayed in your head spontaneously as you cringed onto the girls.

The movement happened so fast, and the entire group of you screamed as the boys grit their teeth, yet silence…fills the air. Not a single sound of bone cracking skin tearing, and blood curdling screams sounded off after Molech made his offensive move.

You’re not sure what happened. You were bracing for impact and for the unthinkable to occur, yet moments passed and you realized that everyone stood, remaining whole and without injury. Still warmed by the embrace of the girls, you slowly open your eyes.

From what you could deduce, the figure had pummeled down from above, piercing through the ceiling of the church strategically so as to not fully crumble its structure. With a hand buried deep into Molech’s back, it pierces through the monstrous flesh as the thousands of small teeth that covered his hideous body attempts to cut through the sleeve of his black coat. You admired his beautiful form as large black-feathered wings extend magnificently from his back. He resembled paintings that depicted Heaven’s arch-angels.

Appearing as a Victorian prince, he slowly rises from his crouching stance. Dressed in dark, vintage-goth attire, he stands gloriously, releasing his stabbing hold of the demon beneath the soles of his boots. The thatch of black hair matched that of his feathers, so dark that it contained a blood red hue under the dim glare. As his face comes to light, your breath escapes so suddenly—you swore your heart skipped a beat…it was Heeseung. Another alternate variation of your beloved.

“Helel…” the elder y/n breathes out through her dark stained lips while gazing at her husband. A look of relief accompanies her whispering softness as he shifts a quick look over, feeling much relieved himself after seeing her unharmed.

With a wild smirk, he speaks. His voice was deep and dark, yet soft as he adoringly addressed her. “My queen.”

His eyes matches his tone as they soften; the murderous glare hushes down to a look of tranquility. “Love of my eternal life…I’ve come to bring you back home with me…where you belong.”

The beauty of love and passion between the two is cut short as Molech suddenly strikes, yet misses as Heeseung, or Helel, springs off to the side, levitating from a distance. He was so fast. His speed was inhuman as you and the others watched the demon making many failed attempts to catch him. “You WILL take her back, as you will join her at death by my hand! YOU—are nothing but a failed angel, and a false prince!”

Mech spoke out his poisonous words, yet seeing the calmed expression on the Prince's face irked him as Helel remained unbothered, so long as his darling was safe.

The very last bit of his words barely spit out as Helel dives in, like a flash of light. With his much smaller frame, he is enumerated strength that surpasses Molechs as he grips the demon by another piercing hold, this time, it was through the center of his chest. The creature’s internal organs flare up, lighting as if they were being filled with lava. His skin became transparent as you all viewed the spewing of fluids secreting from the burns. He screams in pain as the sores on his body leak liquified tissue, melting the outer layer of skin. “I think your visit here is over-welcomed, Molech.”

Helel’s voice turns dark, with a clenched jaw, he continues to burn the demon from the inside out. “Don’t worry, I’ll be seeing you very shortly, and I’ll deal with you then. Be ready…” he narrows his eyes and brings the center face of the demon closer, his lips nearly touching the demon's chin. Smirking, Helel slides the tip of his nose upwards, forcing the demon to look him directly in the eye, all the while he whispers…

“I am going to split you open with my claws—piss on your organs, feed you to those miserable shits at the River Styx, watch as they shit you out, and scatter your remains across the depths of MY Hell. You’ll be nothing but fertilizer for my wife’s pretty little poppy garden, and she will smile every waking moment upon watching them grow from your own demise.”

With the last of Molech’s breath, he extends his middle claw, flicking off his own former master as he shamelessly words out “fuck you.”

Helel only grins in amusement, further aggravating the demon. Whispering, Heeeseung—or Helel, responds back one final time before finishing off the demon. “Nah…nobody fucks with the Devil—except her.” He glances over to his one and only, his own y/n. “She fucks me all the time, sometimes with tears staining her face and her bottom lip clenched between her teeth. She loves fucking with the Devil…” shifting another look over, he directs his tone in bold, over to his wife. “Ain’t that right baby?”

His wife settles a submissive display of affection and obedience as she quietly nods. “Yeah…you fucking love me. And I fucking love the Hell outta you.” His eyes widen entirely too ecstatically as his pupils shrink. Of all the moments you witnessed Heeseung’s most terrifying expressions, nothing surpassed the one his devilish alternate. It was the most terrifying thing you’ve seen, even more so than the dying demon at his hand.

He releases an antagonizing chuckle as you felt a slight shake within your chest, all due to the way he spoke of his love. He was so twisted, possessive, and dementing, but the love and admiration he showered her was above all sorts of love. It was unreal.

“And you know what else Molech? She will be the one to rule over the demons that will fuck your soul for all eternity. THAT…is what it means to obey your fucking queen.” At that, you all bear witness as Helel finishes Molech off.

But things were far from over, the remaining demons and angels who retaliated against their respective masters remained loyal to their desires, despite Molech being gone, and said former master currently present. Despite witnessing Helel kill off their only leadership, they were stubborn enough to follow through, until death stopped them.

“What’s next?” One of the Heeseung twins spoke, gripping his weapon.

“Take the girls and run. Keep going until you reach the end of the bridge.” Helel calmly instructs, eyeballing the swarm that was closing in. “And you?” One of the other Heeseung’s spoke, inquiring Helel’s role during the escape.

“Heh.” With a smirk and the narrowing of his dark eyes, he extends his wings out as he flares off a hand, claws extending and growing in an offensive length before your very own eyes. “It’s time for me to tuck the kids in, and say goodnight.” Leaving no room for response, his super speed causes a mirage of his movements as he levitates up, and like a sparrow, dives down as he takes out numerous demons and angels at once. In doing so, he creates an open path for everyone to escape.

“Let’s go!” Your Heeseung yells out as he grabs on to the dark forest haired y/n, and quickly leads the way. With all the other Heeseung’s following suit, they latch on to each and every single one of you. The purple haired y/n holds onto your hand as she is being led by the blue haired Heeseung.

“Watch out!” The fair one screams, watching as a group of demons head directly towards your direction.

In an instant, they abruptly pause as they reach within one arm's distance. A soothing tune echoes in the air; a semi high pitch voice that reminded you of bells, it sings and creates a euphoric atmosphere. The demons struggle as they try to resist, staggering a myriad of movements before succumbing to the soft sound of mystical and angelic voice.

“Wha-what is that?” The fairer y/n speaks out, when suddenly the blue haired Heeseung tells the boys, “cover your ears and eyes, now!”

You watched as the males covered followed his instruction, patiently waiting for the signal to free their hearing and sight. The one that gave warning stood and provided cover. He didn’t seem so concerned with himself, or so it would appear as he placed no effort in obstructing his vision or hearing. The demons couldn’t resist the soft tone of the woman’s voice, and started to conduct the demands as she spelled out their death sentence.

“Look into my eyes…and hear my voice. Tell me that you love me…” the demons roar in agony as the look of pained lust takes over. “Take out your heart. Rip it from your chests, and present it as a token of your love for me…do it…for meeee.”

Her voice drifts. It was so alluring and other-worldly.

You turned around and bore witness as to who was responsible for the spell-binding act. It was the variant of yourself, the one with the forest green hair. You gasped in magnificence as you saw the transformation of her features darken, becoming seductively bold and eye-catching. Her eyes grew dark, yet glowed. The winged tip lining of her beautiful peepers became more fierce, and her lips grew darker in shade, resembling the color of a Plum. The changed produced a smoldering expression that reeked of every man’s lust and desire. She spoke out terrible things, and yet, each demon did as she bids, meeting a demise by their own hand.

Her counterpart smirks, gazing over to his darling as her expression slowly goes back to its original state. “Siren.” He winked over as he breathed out the name of her lineage.

With a faint smile of her own, she returns the look by flaring a cool attitude out of jest. “Adam.”

Everyone continues on the path as you all make way onto the high bridge, beginning the cross. Up ahead, a swarm of angels swing down, resting near the end of the bridge and form a metallic barricade. They mutate their limbs into active mechanical saws with rotating blades, and unbeknownst to the lot of you, this was a familiar sight for one particular y/n.

“Get behind me.” She tells everyone, and you watch as the Devil’s wife shows you her immortality, and extends her own beautiful wings. “Y-y/n! You have wings!” You and the girls exclaimed, pleasantly surprised by the remarkable sight of the pearlescent white feathers, a stark contrast from her husbands. Barely hidden in the undercarriage of one wing, a small spot resting closest to her body, were black feathers. A part of him.

Extending her angelic feathers, she takes flight just like her husband, and gains unbelievable height before swooping down, taking out the entire offensive line of the angels. Split cleanly in half, they lay restlessly as their limbs twitch and mouths screeched out their dying pains.

The group continues to run, with every alternate variation of you and Heeseung joining hands and intermingling.

A sudden jolt yanks you back, causing you to yelp out in pain. It pulls you back, tearing you from the others.

“Shit!” Heethan breathes out in ultimate fear as a lonesome demon begins to crawl over you. Its tongue glides over your skin, preparing to digest your face when in a blink of an eye, the demon is suspended in the air, and thrown off the bridge. Helel swoops to your side, extending a hand; you take it, joining palms. Feeling your grip, he lifts away and carries you off in flight to rejoin the others.

“Let’s go.” The eldest y/n urges once they witness you safe, much to Heeseung's delight. He swore he felt his heart explode for a second, but redemption came at its finest upon seeing you safe, once again. Guess he has the Devil to thank for that.

Your body reaches unbelievable height as Helel holds you by the waist, and your arms wrapped around his neck. You made the mistake of looking down and felt the hopeless sensation of dangling high above, seeing the group as microscopic figures as they make their way to the end of the bridge. Your grip tightens and by doing so, you pull yourself closer to the former archangel.

“Hmph…” he smirks against your cheek, inhaling your sweet scent as you slowly turn to face him. Staring at him with a wide and an innocent gaze, he reaches up and moves a piece of hair, tucking it behind your ear. “Pretty little thing, you have nothing to fear…”

He leans in closer, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he pulls you even closer. His nose meets with yours, and his lips brush against your skin. He looks so much like Heeseung—your Heeseung. Like him, there was a mixture of kindness and malice, producing love and contentment. Whispering against your lips he finishes…

“Whether it be you, or the others like her, I’ll never let any part of my y/n to fall.”

His wings cave in, cradling you to his chest. He places a soft and gentle kiss on your lips, progressing into one that reaches certain depths from inside your mouth. His tongue feeds through and unlike his cold skin, it was warm. You openly invited him to explore further as you couldn’t resist this version of your beloved. He was so powerful, and out of this world, you just had to gain a taste, and prayed that your own Heeseung would never find out what was happening in the sky above.

His hand reaches the back of your neck, pulling you in as he deepens the kiss. He pulls slightly back, much to your dismay, and takes in the sight of your expression. It was full of lust and desire; you stared back with heavy lids and a soft pant escaping. He smirks before licking your bottom lip, and places a smaller peck on your nose. “Good girl.” He whispers, before tightening his embrace, and taking flight— merging you with the others.

Reaching ground, he gently places you down and watches as you run over to your fiance, who embraced you with every ounce of his own life. “Fuck, I was scared I lost you for a second. Are you okay baby?” His voice was hoarse as he ran out of breath from merely speaking. The choke of his emotions got the better of him as he sensationally savored the feeling of your bodies uniting.

He looks at you with relieved eyes. You tearfully nod and embraced him. The others did the same as they rejoined with their respective partners.

Slowly walking over to Helel, the eldest y/n comes within reach. She raises a hand and delicately moves pieces of his hair away from brow and eye. He smirks down at her, and takes her long strands in palm, rubbing them between his claws. Taking in every bit of her presence, he nearly loses himself at the face that took his breath away. Fuck, she was so breathtaking to him.

“Thank you…for saving me and the others.” She whispers out, widening her stare as she rests her hands on his chest. He wraps his arms around her waist.

“I don’t know what I would ever do if I didn’t have you.” He admits, and for the first time ever, she witnesses a side of the devil she never thought she’d see. His look was that of slight guilt, relief, and sadness. He looked down at the ground for a moment, realizing that had he been late, he would have lost the only thing that mattered to him. Meeting her gaze, he leans in with a calmed look in his eye.

In this very moment, y/n felt herself falling for her husband like never before. After bearing Helan, living in Hell, and sustaining his harsh treatments, she finally understood him as a man and husband. Oh, how the tables have turned in his favor.

“My son needs his mother…and I need my queen.” He whispers, before granting a small and tender kiss. Taking her hand, he raises it to chin level, tilting his face as his eyes remain glued to her face. Lavishing her hand, he rolls tongue and cheek across the smoothness of her skin, delicately placing a trail of kisses down to her wrist. Tears begin to form in her eyes. It’s true what they say in Heaven and Hell, the Devil truly loved his wife. His y/n.

A rumbling sound emerges from afar and you all witness as many more demons and angels emerge from inside the cathedral. They run over, crossing the bridge as they head in the groups direction. With the exception of Helel and his y/n, who had the gift of flight, everyone was at a disadvantage of being forced to run on foot, but with speed that was nothing compared to the inhuman entities making their way over.

“We gotta hide or something. They’ll catch us.” The purple haired y/n exclaims while her own Heeseung holds onto her, cooing her as he kisses her forehead.

“No need.” Helel calmly projects. Everyone looked in his direction with a relieved sigh, does he have a plan? “What will you do?” His own bride inquires flirtatiously as she gets a sense of a trick up her husband's sleeve. He smirks as he tells her. “What we do best.” He snaps his finger and instantly, six other figures appear from the sky, shattering the atmosphere as their sudden appearance creates a series of Sonic Booms. One right after another, they dive bombed the bridge, wiping out the army of demons and angels in seconds. With dark feathered wings, and inhuman strength, their lack in numbers could not fool anyone. The angels were no match even when conducting aerial movements. Each dark prince maneuvered the sky and shattered any who tried to escape. It was as if you were watching jets chasing after one another.

They swoon closer, joining the group at the end of the bridge. “The kids are misbehaving I see.” One of them spoke, a young man who had dark hair with wispy silver highlights. His foot reaches the ground as he collapses his wings, leaving them to remain perched in an arch at rest. He was adorned with gold and jewels that had to be worth more than what the world could offer. Joining him was one of the others, who had blonde hair slicked back, and bright blue eyes. A lip ring decorated his bottom lip, and he shared the same aura as the other.

“These little brats…what’s their problem this time? Are they pissed off at us or what?” Seemingly fed up with the offensive entities, he sighs out as the one adorned with jewels responds.

“Eh…Same shit, different day. Don’t know about the angels, but our guys are in need of a spanking…probably need to be grounded.”

The blonde haired angel-figure shoots a glance over to the forest haired y/n. “Huh…first time I’ve ever seen a Siren.”

The Heeseung who held on to her waist tucks her into his chest; he glares over to the blonde male. “Fuck off.” Was all he calmly stated before widening his eyes psychotically.

The blonde male smirks, appearing to do no harm. “Relax. I’m not going to take away your little mermaid.” He switched his gaze back to her. “You and I come from the same waters, Daughter of the Seven Seas. It would appear that your generation is much more tamed than that of your early mothers.” He smirks as he looks back at the one holding her. “An Adam…great distant son of an ancient God. Despite the identical face you display to that of my elder brother, you and I are more alike than anything else.”

Heedam softens his gaze to that of an annoyed glare. “I don’t really care, blondie.”

Jake smirks out a small laugh. “No, I guess you don’t. But it’s all good…” flickering his snake like tongue, he gently coos. “Just tell your sisters, should you ever see them, to be wary of the snake. I tend to look for them from time to time.”

The dark green haired y/n projects a perturbed brow. “You mean…the other sirens? What would you do if you ever found them?”

He winks. “I’d eat them—metaphorically speaking, of course.” He gives off a last smirk before turning his back to the couple. “Snakes need to eat too, you know?”

The two males take flight to rejoin their brothers in air, while Helel remains with you all. After some moments went by, you and the girls inquired on how the boys managed to find you.

“This guy.” One of the twins smirked as he thumb pointed over to Helel. “Got us together after he found out what was happening, and helped us get here before taking off to get his brothers.”

“How did you find out?” The eldest raised a brow as she peeked up to view her husband's face. He smirks as his chin touches her nose. “After the raid and your kidnapping, that little fuck-Molech left no leads. So I had to reach out to an old friend…”

“Who?” One of the y/n’s spoke curiously. The eldest y/n already knew…

“Him?” She spoke in a whisper. He slightly nods in return. You all pieced together whom they were referring to as the subtle hint gave off the showering expression of respect and peace on the Devil’s face.

God.

Not much was divided afterwards. In fact, after Helel explained how he forcefully opened the space and time continuums in each galactic dimension to retrieve the alternate versions of his own soul, and unite them with the plan to bring you all back, things went silent right after.

Reopening those entrances once more, Helel guided each pairing back to their own worlds, and everything was back to normal, other than the major publicity that stirred from the event. Mentions of angels and demons raising the sky, and an apocalyptic end, was all the media could speak of.

………

A few weeks have passed. Schools were shut down for a while due to the incident, and everyone was left to continue their education via online, which Heeseung absolutely loved. Having you in his dorm twenty-four-seven was something that he could get used to…maybe already has.

You lay in bed partially dressed. It was nice to not have to worry about figuring what to wear. Since assignments were assigned and completed on your own schedule, you opted to be lazy as Heeseung went down the store to grab your favorite snacks. All for being such a good girl, and staying by his side.

With only a crop top and a pair of panties on, you embraced the warmth of summer air hitting your skin. Besides, your man loved seeing you nearly nude more than anything else.

The door opens, and you see him walk in. In his traditional and fashionable manner, his hat covers his eyes and the upper bridge of his nose, which complimented the street style he wore. A long shirt with the sleeves partially rolled and straight jeans. So casual yet so appealing, or perhaps it was just him and how he could pull it off so well.

“That was quick.” You quirked as you sit up over the edge of the bedding and sipped on your water bottle.

“I don’t like being away from you for too long.” He spoke out with a deep tone. His bedroom voice.

He didn’t waste any time. He held onto your waist and pulls you up. Catching you by surprise, he dipped down to loop his hands around your thighs, before fully extending you up in the air. Your thighs straddle him as you stabilize yourself, he was so strong. Lifting you like a feather, he buries his face into your neck as your head rests on top of his hat. “Heeseung…”

“Mmhmm…” he mumbles with his mouth filled with your tender skin. He didn’t say much more after, instead, he hooks your panties and pushes them to the side. Up and over your derrière, his forearm rested against the surface of your rear cheeks while he lined himself to your center. It’s to be expected, you both didn’t have sex this morning due to the zoom conference for one of your classes. So of course, now that all of that was done, he could finally have his moment with you.

He slides right in, and it was a familiar feeling that seemed all too new. He stuffs you. Fills you. Pumps into you. It was an incredible feeling that reminded you just how much you loved to get fucked by this man.

His lips remained latched on to your neck. “Fuck.” He whispers. “Mmmph! Heeseung!” You gasped as he picks up the pace and bounces you atop his throbbing cock, holding your under-thighs as leverage whenever he lifted and stabilized your momentum.

He kept going on and on. Your mind was blown away as always; you didn’t even feel present in his room. Everything just took you away as you felt your gut being filled by that hard muscle. Separating your walls and pushing in, he thrusts in a motion that was passionately rough and sensually brutal. It was almost like dancing—it had rhythm and harmony as you both shared juices of love and lust.

You screamed out as you come undone. Splattering your fluids everywhere, he keeps his thrusts going as he goes in harder, faster, and deeper. Right as you reach your second orgasm, he joins in and you both cum in unison.

He gently places you back down on the bed, lovingly. Kissing your entire body, he coolly shushes you after noting your gasping pants for air, and the beads of sweat that coated your skin. “Shhh-sh-sh-sh. Breathe baby, that’s it…thaaaaaats it.”

Once you finally got your breathing stabilized, he kisses your forehead and whispers “good girl.”

Something smacks your senses as you immediately took note of the off-putting manner in the way he whispered his tone. Of course he’s said it many times before but this…this was all too familiar in an unfamiliar way. It was…it was…

He stands upright, you hear the unfolding flaps of the black feathered wings extending past the street attire he donned.

“Oh my God…”

He smirks. “Close…but not quite sweetheart.” With a devilish grin, he leans down and places a sudden peck on your lips, causing you to enhance your already shocked expression. “The Devil is here.”

He kisses you once more before turning away. A slit in the gravitational force of the air appears, and walking in was Heeseung dressed in formal black, Victorian wear. The one who donned his wings, Helel, spoke first.

“Had fun?”

Heeseung—your Heeseung, spoke back in jest. A certain level of verbal jousting that took place between the two as they remained swapped in their attire. “Hope you enjoy my work.” Your Heeseung spoke, flashing his Ethan persona as he smirks towards his devil counterpart.

“I’ll leave you my review. If I’m not satisfied, I will be returning.” He dashed a wink over to you, as your Heeseung responds back. “No returns.”

Helel crosses his arms, and grins. “I won’t be asking for a return, more like a freebie.”

Heeseung smirks back as he too, crosses his arms. Both men square off, chest to chest at a one arms distance. “Against my policy. It’s buy one, and get one free. And gimme back my hat.” He snags the cap off from Helel’s head, the latter merely remained undeterred and blinked as he leans his head slightly back, watching as his own counterpart places the hat on his own head.

“Hmph…what atrocity.” Noting his Victorian cloth tainted by the modern piece that your Heeseung displayed, Helel lightly snarled in disgust. “If anyone is going to square off with the Devil…I guess it would be my own damn self, even if you are worlds apart. Too bad I always win.”

He remarks amusingly before exiting, but not without waving back to you as he peeked over the edge of his wing. “See you later, y/n. Try not to spill.” He denotes as he points at the seeping fluid spilling out in between your legs. Heeseung’s brow irked at the symbolic jab.

“Helel…” he calls out right as the devil began to step into the opening.

Raising a brow, Helel looks over to his alternate face. “Say hi to the wife and kids for me.”

Helel’s eyes widen just slightly, expressing a hint of confusion. “Kids?”

Heeseung smirks. “Yeah…kids. A lot of them. Figured your boy could use some siblings.”

Both men stand wide-eyed, smiling sinisterly. They looked as if they were going to kill each other. “Huh…it would be you to show up the devil. I’ll be sure to return the favor.” He steps forward, and with that, the devil takes his leave.

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citrinae · 13 days ago

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pumpkin spice evenings.

or: spending halloween with them. something quick & chill i wrote for fun as i sipped on the third cup of tea for today. enjoy some silliness, lovelies! 🎃

ft. the monster trio

masterlist

☾₊‧⁺ luffy

will always come up with the weirdest, most eccentric costume ideas; usopp once explained him that halloween is for all things scary and mysterious, and you think that maybe he took it too literally when this year you see him on deck with a piece of wood around the neck that reads ‘empty stomach’.

but who can match his freak better than you, who soon returns from franky’s workshop with a costume of your own—‘empty fridge’. seeing you, luffy’s mouth stretches into a widest smile. he is so happy that you got his vision that he hugs you all night; cheerily jumping from behind, forming a knot around your waist with his hands.

he loves to tell a good scary story; more than this he adores impersonating the characters making an appearance in those tales. of course props are mandatory: toothpicks for vampires, ketchup for blood, flour for ghosts. though you never get to find out how they wrap up as one way or another he’s always plucked from the floor and shaken off whatever shit he’s used from the kitchen to set a vibe.

another thing luffy is very fond of—not necessarily around halloween—is pranks. and we know that these become a lot more fun with a partner in crime to support the mischief—that is you, in his case, keeping usopp busy as he sneaks some spiders under his pillow or slipping a fake eye in sanji’s soup when no one’s looking. the latter is more of a payback for not being allowed to listen to a story from beginning to end.

☾₊‧⁺ zoro

zoro doesn’t understand the hype formed around the holiday. he spent enough time in mihawk’s castle to not be moved by anything conventionally seen as ‘spooky’ or ‘frightening’. specifically he finds halloween costumes stupid, and by default he’s the type to show up to every party dressed up like, uh well, himself.

the morning his green coat and red sash are missing he seems more confused than annoyed, opening and closing drawers to each five minutes, scratching his head. then he finds you on deck, and a hot flash of nervousness crosses his cheeks as he does. obviously his clothes look larger on you, loops and waves of green fabric hanging from your arms like willow leaves. his face grows even redder when you tell him he’s free to dress up for halloween as you if he wants.

stupid or not, celebrating a holiday means more booze, so you shouldn’t worry about him joining the rest of you for a midnight party. candles and carved pumpkins and spiderweb. glasses and liquor and bursts of laughter. suddenly he wraps his arm around your shoulder, dragging you the closest you’ve ever been to him in front of so many people.

“you havin’ fun, pirate hunter?” he asks, playful and lukewarm into your ear. getting a grip through the shiver his voice sent down your spine, you tell him that you do. “how about we make it even more so for you,” brushing his thumb across your cheek. “with a drinking contest. loser keeps their costume on for another three days.”

☾₊‧⁺ sanji

he just lives for the coupley stuff that comes with halloween; so he will always go for classic pair costumes like the gomez to your morticia or the ken to your barbie—he’ll even do it the other way around, if you ask him, because how can he ever say no to you, when you look at him with those crystal eyes, so pure and celestial, that make his heart leap from his chest.

speaking of heavenly. “angel and devil” is another costume idea sanji’s quite big on, and that’s only because he always thought you’d be heart-stopping with a pair of white wings and a soft blush on your cheeks, glitter on your chest and a halo hovering above your head, so that you can look in a mirror and see yourself as he’s envisioned you in his head ever since the day he met you.

you can stay assured that, aside from the batches of halloween-themed goodies he promised to the crew, he will also take some time in advance to make sure your costumes are thought out to the very detail. sanji genuinely thinks it’s so fun and romantic when you do each other’s makeup; eyeliner, facepaint, blush. whatever you need, he got you. he might not be the best at it, but hell he’s trying his best, and he looked so excited when he offered to do it that you couldn’t deny him this to begin with.

despite the effort put in both of your costumes, later at night it becomes harder and harder for him not to scoop you up from the floor and take you somewhere he can be alone with you, smudging your makeup with his lips and ripping your clothes off. he simply can’t stop thinking about it. about you; especially when you look so beautiful, enjoying a board game with the rest of the crew, glitter falling off your eyelashes and dusting your cheeks.

check here for main spooktober series (currently stretched to november).

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #one piece scenario #one piece headcanons

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gallifreyanhotfive · 8 months ago

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Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 36

The Eighth Doctor has referred to Time Lord society as "bitchy" before. (Audio: Seasons of Fear)

Maximelos and the Three Ogrons was a children's fairy tale on Gallifrey that the First Doctor heard as a child before being initiated into the Academy. (Short Story: Nothing O'Clock)

Peri once turned the song "Wild Boys" up in order to drown out the Sixth Doctor's opera singing. (Short Story: A Star is Reborn)

Susan failed her maths exam because she had forgotten that Britain hadn't moved to the metric system yet (despite the fact that the First Doctor had tried to get her to remember at least that). (Short story: Extracts from the Doctor’s 500 Year Diary)

The Doctor had a bear when he was young but had to release it when it started eating all the furniture. (Audio: Cuddlesome)

Jo and Cliff Jones frequently work with David Attenborough (Short Story: Greyhound)

The Tenth Doctor and Rose Tyler got caught in 1914 Belgium in a battle between Germans and an alien Warfreekz. Rose stopped the war by singing "Angels" by Robbie Williams, which made all sides think she was the Angel of Death come to take their dead to Heaven. (Comic: Warfreekz!)

When the Fifth Doctor broke his spine and was subsequently paralyzed, he thought he would regenerate. (Audio: Devil in the Mist)

The Toymaker once turned the Eighth Doctor into a doll. (Audio: Solitaire)

Chancellor Delox was a lecturer at the Academy who expelled the Doctor from her class after discovering he had not returned to his House for Otherstide. (Novel: Divided Loyalties)

The Second Doctor remembered being something of an acrobat in his First body before age had taken its toll. (Novel: Heart of TARDIS)

The Doctor's TARDIS has an entire snowy mountain range inside of it. (Audio: The Settling)

The console room of the Monk’s TARDIS has a comfy chair covered in comic books in it. (Audio: The Black Hole)

The Tenth Doctor recovered from his regeneration in part because of tea but also in part because he took energy from his Third incarnation, who was nearby. (Short story: The Christmas Inversion)

The Sixth Doctor continued to try to fix the TARDIS chameleon circuit after Attack of the Cybermen. This caused the outer shell to shift to all sorts of odd forms, such as Nelson's column, a giant strawberry, a train engine, a clock, a Christmas tree, a giant Radio Times, and more. (Comic: Quick Change)

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drowninginblox · 1 month ago

Text

The Tell

Based off of this scene (SPOILERS FOR XMEN '97) I am back on my nightcrawler bs!!!!

Have some angst and hurt/comfort to bide yall. I'M WORKING ON PART 3- MIDTERMS HAVE ME BY THE SOUL!! Yall know the drill: 2nd person bc idgaf GN pronouns for yall (I think?) No beta we die like (spoilers)

He was gone. You were across the world and you knew he was gone. In a step, in a breath, in a waining thought- all silenced by the wind in your hair whispering "Gambit's Dead"

You rushed home as soon as possible, making it just a day before the funeral. Everyone was barely holding it together but seeing you after all these years, a ghost, sent waves. Logan, Rouge, and Hank were all indifferent to your presence, understanding but also contempt of the fact that now- now you show up, after years away. This is what got you back.

Scott was worse- not even bothering to speak to you, just walking away altogether. Jubilee didn't know you that well, but from what she knew and how she is, she took you in with a grain of salt. Smart girl- that one.

Kurt, now that was a reaction. Moments after you were let in, Kurt was getting tea for everyone and as soon as he saw you- everything fell apart. Not many people have had the displeasure of seeing the Nightcrawler angry. After all, the few who do, don't live to tell the tale. But now you've seen it thrice. But unlike the times before- you stayed and took it all.

All the vile curses, both English and German, all the arm motions and tears, all the looks of emotions so mixed it could count as a cocktail. When he was done, and stark silence filled the over-occupied room, he muttered. "Welcome home Windwalker." Before dacking your shoulder on his way out.

You knew you should have left at that moment but you stay ed for the funeral. As soon as it was over and Kurtis touched your heart once again, you started to walk away again.

You made it ten minutes before he came racing after you. "Wait." He called from behind you.

A sigh and half of a turn was the most you got before the brunt of a sword collided with your eye- sending you stumbling into a nearby tree. "You are not leaving until I'm through with you, Zepher." You wince. Not at the pain. You didn't bother to stand as Kurt readied his blades. You just closed your eyes and waited. A moment passes before Kurt shouts "Steh auf, verdammt! Get up and fight me!" The rage eminent in his voice. You open your eyes to see him looming from listed over a yard away. His stark eyes contrast the gloom of the landscape. Where this moment was pure mourning, he was nothing but firey disgust. Contemplation washed over you, but you got up. You didn't bother to ready yourself as if you could- Kurt was already on you, his swords slashing into you. Kicks sent you here and there while the memories of late-night training sessions made your tears mix with the downpour. Blood followed soon after.

Whether it be minutes or hours later, he was finished with you. On the brink of passing out either out of blood loss or exhaustion. He stepped back to look at you. "Warum liegt mir so viel an Ihnen?" He mumbles. You only swallow back the copper taste in your mouth. His eyes narrow, finally seeing you as the human trash you are. You close your eyes and hope that the devil is kinder than this fallen angel.

You wake to smoke. immediately sitting up and coughing out the vile intruder. You use your mutation of wind manipulation to give yourself a radius to breathe. Kurt appears next to you before grabbing your chest and suddenly teleporting you outside. He doesn't linger to explain whats going on- just leaving you to watch as these human-robot things destroy the manor. You take out a few that try to break in and even save Logan from one too. When the chaos is settled, everyone makes a gameplan- something something Rouge, something something Magneto- you were out for most of it. It wasn't until Kurt gripped your shoulder that you found yourself back in reality. Kurt stares at you for a moment before grabbing your waist and teleporting to the outside of the manor's green.

"I-If you want a round two... go ahead." You offer even though the bandages wrapped around your torso and arms are turning pink. "I know you wanted to for harder." You close your eyes. "Can I say something though?"A beat passes. you feel his tail swing against your ankle. "Make it quick." You nod. "I'm going to say I've changed, or that I feel sorry, or that I've repented- because... I don't think you care about that." You let out a breath. Your heartbeat is still racing. "But what I am going to say is, that when I left- I didn't do it to hurt you." Something builds in the back of your closing throat. "I- I had to leave to protect you. And I know it was stupid to not say anything- especially given our last conversation. But I had to go. Y-you mother-"

"Mystique."

You nod, and you feel your cheeks get wet. "She found my family. My blood one. And you know that I've been keeping tabs on them since I left- she said that she'd kill them and then go after you guys-" She tries to suppress the frown that was deepening. "I know that I should have told you but I was scared. You told me what your mother is capable of. And I couldn't just stand there so-" A weight envelopes you. A warm, protective, weight, that grounds you to the moment. You open your eyes to see the thing you've been dreaming of for the past decade finally become reality. Kurt's buried his head into your shoulder and holding onto you for dear life. For a moment you can only watch. But as reality slowly but surely seeped in, the cracks in the years-old walls finally led to you crumbling in the arms of your oldest friend. You return his hug, clutching him to make sure that this wasn't one of the most twisted dreams you've ever had.

His tail wraps around your calve. "I missed the west wind," He mumbled into your embrace. You hold him tighter. "And I yearned for the fallen angel."

#nightcrawler x reader #kurt wagner x reader

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comfortless · 10 months ago

Note

hi angel! i have to tell you that ‘All That You Don’t Want’ was incredible- such a lovely, sweet tale! i keep revisiting it! would you consider writing a second part? or even a role reversal?

Roach Head

lich! König x fem necromancer! reader

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. abduction, injury, mentions of insects (reader is the world’s worst necromancer), forced proximity, pining, violence/regicide, major character death, questionable morality, fluff, smut, a lil angst.

notes: i am so sorry you have had to wait so long, anon. ): though… i doubt that i will ever write a continuation of ATYDW, take this sickly sweet… (almost) role reversal, instead!

wc: 6.7k.

It’s an odd thing that, after finally having the blindfold removed, the first thing you notice are the cobblestones beneath your bleeding palms. Not a single one is in disarray; not cracked or crumbling from being used as any other common footpath. No, each stone is in it’s place, lain complete with not a single splintering crack or a sharpness to it from being broken. All pristine and smooth beneath your stinging scrapes.

Just like the cobbles, the air feels untouched here. There’s no stink of manure or spoiled food from the cramped streets of the inner kingdom. There are no roars of fighting men nor the baying of beasts, a lack of giggling women batting their eyelashes to lure those with jingling pouches of coins into brothels. You can’t even detect a breeze. Twisting onto your side, your eyes catch on the extending limbs of sturdy trees, and oddly… not a single leaf flutters or moves. The air is still.

There is only the absence of everything.

You should think it a blessing after your abduction, after being thrust into the back of a dusty carriage drawn by two massive horses.

You could almost swear you had seen the devil in their dark eyes, hellfire deep in those dark pits and you had known assuredly they would be chauffeuring you straight into the darkest circle of Hell. That was, until a thick, rigid cloth was tied around your head, forcing you into complete darkness. Your assailants had done well to bind you and leave your aching body only capable of wracking with sobs against the hard wood at the bottom. Every jolt of the wagon had caused you to flinch, to scramble as best you could, resulting in an array of bruises and your still bleeding hands from fighting at the ropes.

There had never even been a chance to fight back; you never even saw them. Even now as you raise your throbbing head to glance about, there’s no sign of the men that have left you here, in this silent place. Your heart almost seizes in your chest when you realize you can no longer even hear the cantering and whinnying of those dark, stoic horses.

You know that nothing good comes from silence.

It’s one of the first things that you came to learn as a fledgling witch. Quiet rarely ever bodes well. The prey animals in the wood all scurry to hide amongst fallen leaves and well-packed nests the very moment that a predator draws near, and you, still green with your admittedly lackluster talent in reanimating were little more than a fawn in the eyes of any beast.

A groan leaves your parted lips as you force yourself to your knees, ignoring the incessant sting of bruises and how your vision blots from even the barest of exertion. Your binds must have been cut free when you were abandoned here, you realize, as you twist around to crawl.

That’s when you see it— the glory of what lies before you.

Rather than being dumped into some desolate street for the vultures to find and pick apart like any common carrion, the men with their frightening steeds had left you at the steps leading up to a beautiful castle of sorts. The stone bricks and marbled towers above you, spirals of darkened blue shingles descended into gilded turrets, the rampart casting a shadow over all that settles beneath. There’s a flag there, too, positioned just outside of the wooden door leading into the heart of it all. The rich, blue fabric is torn in places, the tassels frayed, bare white thread visible near the paling center making the crest practically invisible.

Something draws you to it, that singular rotting thing in this bright, sterile void. Your feet move quicker than your thoughts as you pad up toward the flag, eyelids squinting as your palm dances over the canvas. The strangest thing happens as you finally make out what remains of a wolf’s head amongst the rips and splintering threads— the wooden door begins to move. It’s not one of those fancy, well crafted ones with those mechanisms you couldn’t fathom in the King’s keep, this one has to be pulled open from the inside.

You watch, lips pursed as the door continues to slowly creek open until finally, you can make out the small courtyard beyond it. A fountain, long since dried up sits at its center, and even with what you imagine must be little care in such a desolate place, the plants are all in bloom; petals of vivid blues and gentle purples fill your vision.

Amongst them, stands a shadow of the purest black, from the opaque veil shrouding his head to the soles of his boots. The cloak he wears is heavy, finely stitched with that very same blue crest embroidered into its chest, the stitching in equal disarray as the flag adorning the stone wall.

You’ve seen specters before. They haunt the kingdom in every nook, crawling over the tops of buildings, invading your dreams with threats of what will come to you if you don’t reanimate something, give them any body to inhabit and puppet so that they might just have a taste of the pleasures of being human once more. Greedy, malevolent things that make you feel ill from a mere glimpse.

This one is entirely an unknown.

He does not crawl from your gaze with the gait of a wary spider, he stands rigid, daring even as those eyes like sapphire lock onto your form. Not a word is uttered between the two of you, yet you feel a pull, one that curls at the bones tucked into the flesh of your legs, pushing and pulling you past the threshold as though an unseen dog were nipping at your heels. You don’t fight it. Your bare feet cross over smooth stone and your stare remains wistful on the figure until he simply strolls away.

That’s it. That’s all it takes before you’re snapped out of your trance and the wooden door swings heavy and violent behind you, closing and locking without a hand to guide it. Then it’s back to the nothingness, the silence.

You should be very, very afraid. In a panic, even as your hands flatten over the wood and you realize that there are no handles from inside at all. You are entirely trapped here, short of finding a way to carve through it or climb up the rampart and risk snapping every limb on your descent. Thing is— you are not afraid, at least not enough to do anything so rash.

A calm settles here, electric and tickling as it feathers unseen through the cool air.

You stay in that courtyard for a long time, admiring every flower and shrub, some you recognize and others you do not. The empty fountain is not empty at all; you find that the marble ring is filled to the brim with riches— gold coins, shimmering stones, all twinkling beneath the yellow glow of the sun overhead.

Inside of the castle is more or less the same, each corridor bathed in the glow of soft candlelight, highlighting paintings in gilded frames that must have taken months to complete, treasures you have only ever heard of seated on polished wood and fine metals. Like walking through a dream. Though your hands itch to pocket something, anything to take back with you when you find the will to escape, to free yourself from the reality of your little shack at the corner of the market that you share with a dozen other witchlings, you don’t touch anything at all.

Following a branch to your right, vast and equally laden with treasures, eyes darting from one shiny thing to the next until the tightly woven, ornate rugs beneath the soles of your feet wind to an end and you instead find your footing on smooth stone tiles.

You find yourself in the throne room, where the specter sits, lofty yet misplaced upon the soft, rolling velvet. That pull, like a lead drawn too tight, pivots you forward, one foot before the other until you’re kneeling at his feet. The figure remains still, watching you with that somber, unrelenting stare even as you reach up to take his gloved hand into your own, kissing along each knuckle until the hand coated in blackened leather moves to cup your face.

This is no king, you know it in your very bones. The dark veil stained by teardrops tells you everything, of a life trodden by deceit and pain untold.

“I know what you are, hündchen.”

The voice startles you, a rasp, alive only in the way that fire lives, crackling and swaying with each lilt. You must have flinched back, the spell weaved around you broken with all of the subtlety of a lightening strike, your elbows dig almost painfully into the rough tiles below, eyes locked to the veil.

Your own voice doesn’t come for a time. When it does, it comes tight; meek and quivering, almost absent entirely as though your own body refuses to bring a ripple to the quiet that has engulfed you.

“Why have you brought me here?”

The feeling that curls up in the hollow spaces within your chest when this enigma pulls you to your feet with a sudden curl of his hand over your wrist feels familiar. It’s not unlike how you felt when accidentally resurrecting that old mantis found dried beneath your bed. It had attempted to chew through your hand, but being so small it hardly seemed a threat, just offensively waving it’s front legs at you until you scooped the critter up and locked it up tight in an old trunk. Some strange tide of wonder, and it takes a moment for you to push it down enough to realize that… the specter is still stood before you, his grip still tight, not saying a word.

Why it brings a swell of warmth to your face should have you questioning your taste in men rather than what he may or may not have done.

“Sorry, I just—“

“You are hurt, hündchen.” He interrupts, turning your wrist over to inspect the flecks of dried blood littering your palm. It’s not the worst injury you’ve ever had, in fact, you had very nearly forgotten it even existed— just a few scrapes from a rope tied far too tight.

You shake your head, biting back that surge of… something, that furry something that crawls from the fluttering organ behind your ribcage and down into the pits of your stomach. That feeling is also familiar, you felt it the first time you laid eyes on that pompous, boy-man serving as heir to the throne in the castle, at least, until he turned his head to look at you and your ilk with thinly veiled disgust.

If the specter sees scum before him, the veil does well to conceal it.

His eyes seem to only light up the more he appraised you, rubbing his thumb over your scrape with such a gentle touch that a shiver rips down your spine.

“I see…”

He guides your wrist back down to your side, delicately trails his fingertips up to your shoulder and… that’s it before he draws away and steps right past you. That’s all the touch you’re given and you find yourself, humiliatingly yearning for it. There should be nothing but contempt scraping at your skull and yet you feel treacherously endeared by this strange, strange faceless man living in this lonely castle.

The risk of this being some bewildering trap weighs heavy on your mind; you’re far more intelligent than some scrappy undead insect, begging to be tossed into a dusty crate, after all. You had heard of the way other lands treated necromancers: shunning them, chasing them from villages, and in far more dreadful cases— leading them to kneel before a headsman for decapitation.

You center yourself, force your mind to conjure up any evidence of some magical foul play only to be left with the knowledge that these feelings are entirely your own.

This man does not have the sticky aura of one dripping magic from his palms like thick globs of honey. He seems almost vacant, devoid of even anything making him human, while you stand transfixed and lacking even the sensible reaction of fear.

You can only find comfort in his gentle hand, in his stare like an unholy flame.

So, when he guides you to what is to be your dwelling you mouth does not part to argue. You’re led to a room larger than the entirety of the cluttered home you shared with the other witchlings. Everything within is worth more than even you, and something about it stings, sharp and sudden like ant’s venom seeping into skin.

From the canopy bed, draped over with thick velvet curtains to protect from the chill of a winter’s night to the neatly polished wood of varying furniture, it all feels so rich— so foreign.

“You didn’t have to prepare all of this for me… I don’t even… why am I here?” You’re rambling, searching every corner of the room with a flitting gaze as if some small patch of dust will provide you with the answers.

Your specter only laughs as he nudges you towards the bed, now your bed, the motion only sending another question to the forefront of your mind.

Were you bought? Meant to warm some peculiar stranger’s bed without even the grace of having the knowledge to prepare?

Perhaps your concerns should have drifted as to why you were not entirely opposed.

“Sleep.”

The simple command leaves you stifled entirely, all confusion and tentative excitement dispelled in an instant.

He wants nothing from you, only to extend a foreign cup spilling over with generosity to one who would not admit it was ever even needed.

You find yourself nodding your head, unaccustomed to the kindness of a forgotten thing like him. In truth, you’re unused to anything but bickering between the other ladies in the witch’s house, the cobwebs stretching without end caking the ceiling, the scuttle of crawling legs over your flesh as you pulled your threadbare blanket over your body to shield you from the cold. From stark poverty to this… it claws at your eyes, steels your mind— man or ghost, it mattered not; your heart sang while your mouth remains pressed into a stiff line.

When he leaves you, your body cloaked in the softest gown you’ve ever worn, burrowed beneath sheets of the finest silk, that unknown thing in your heart seems to spill over, rushing through your veins like honeyed wine.

You dream through the eyes of someone else that night.

A woman kneels at your feet with tears in her dark eyes. She hasn’t slept, the thick, dark patches just above where her cheeks rise make it evident, and she’s pleading with the you who is not you; this woman tells you that she wishes to go home, that she could never be a part of what you are or are not.

Even in dreaming you feel your jaw tighten, sure that your nails have splintered from the shooting pain in your fingertips as your hands tighten over the hard wood of your seat. The not you speaks for you, his voice coming warbled and distant. You can not make out the words, but seeing how this pleading woman’s face seems to morph into an expression of terror, you’re grateful to not know what’s been said.

Nothing becomes of her. You watch as she strolls away, unharmed. This other you, however, is. It’s the tingling of so many unseen legs parading through your chest; spiders in a downward course to burrow in the shadow of your belly. The discomfort rings out as you feel this body rise from its seat, out to the courtyard with a fountain. The flowing water subsided the clambering of spider limbs inside, just enough for this body to pull a ring from its pocket and cast it down into the clear water.

You watch the ring seat itself at the marble bottom, the gentle flow of water causing small ripples to crest over that tiny band of silver until you wake.

Confusion twists itself into curiosity as you free yourself from the sheets, padding out of your room still only adorned in the thin, white fabric of the gown. Morning light filtering through each window of the castle carves a path where the candles have long since been blown out. The only darkness here is with your captor, all tall and shadowy, and you find yourself considering the fact that perhaps you’ve been sucked down into some strange afterlife, one where you and this specter would remain in a silent stasis for all time. You find that you don’t entirely hate the idea, either.

Most of the rooms in the castle are dull. It’s not that there isn’t plenty to look at, but a cluttering of what’s expected, all gold and ornate, only proves to bore you. There is little mystery to be found in riches.

None of it is of importance, anyway. It’s him you’re seeking out, and oddly enough, you find your specter in the courtyard staring down at the cluttered fountain. He shifts in place as you take to his side, fingers curling into loose fists momentarily before he offers you a small greeting by way of running a hand along the back of your neck, petting you as though you truly were only a puppy.

You shiver beneath that warm touch, seem to melt against him before collecting yourself enough to straighten up.

“I did not sleep well,” he says quietly, the look in his eyes tells you that he dreamt through your own. He had seen the decay and filth of the king’s city, perhaps even those angry, little things that you brought back to bite and sting and pinch.

“I didn’t either.”

You recognize that faint, strange smell when you move just a step closer to him, like dust and forgotten things. Not quite rot, but similar, a comfort for you as it’s all your fate has ever allowed for you to know. Yet, this is not one of your reanimations. Only a man.

A man, only, like you; touched by the rot.

The realization crosses your face by way of a widened glance, a sharp intake of breath. It stings again when he turns away from you, drops his hand back to his side.

“Will you walk with me, hündchen?”

“Sure.”

It’s no less strange pacing along at his side than roaming about the castle with no idea where he is. The specter still feels worlds away, even as your arm brushes over his, your fingers occasionally ghosting over his gloved hand. While the vivid blue of globe thistles and hydrangeas entertains your vision, that patient stare of his remains trained on you, even as the quiet settles over the garden once again.

In a way, you feel as though you’re being courted, even as the questions remain scurried and fluttering in your mind. The ghost, the man, whoever he is, refuses to sate that curiosity of yours even as you bring it up to him again. Why? He only responds in an almost boyish laugh that pulls at your heart, infuriating and delightful all the same.

You share a meal, something you’ve no idea how he managed to scrounge together or had the time to prepare at all. He’s been at your side all morning, yet the fruit pastries and tea are served warm as you seat yourself across from him at some grand, oak table. That sparked tingle of magic does not feather off of him as it does with your sisters, but you know without a doubt that he must have it. You glower at him a bit, lips pursed and brow pinched as he sips at his tea, not beneath but through the fabric of his black veil.

“You will have to explain what’s going on at some point,” you huff, pushing your plate away as if to make a show of it. No more accepting his gifts, even if your stomach growls in protest. “Especially if you’re trying to court me.”

It’s cute how wide his eyes go at that, his cup of tea nearly slipping from his hand. The surprise wears off almost immediately, his eyes narrowing in what you imagine must be amusement as you’re left feeling a bit humiliated. Your gaze flits over to the candles adorning the table as you nervously drum your fingers against the lap of your dress.

“Court you?”

“The gown, the walk, the food… is that not what this is?”

“Nein, hündchen…” He pauses to sigh, setting the cup against the table with a dull thud. “It’s better that I did not.”

You think to question him further, but hold back the words bubbling in your throat, sullenly picking at the food on your plate instead. It feels like courtship, would look like courtship to anyone else, but then again… you’ve never quite experienced it for yourself, either. You’re no noble lady, and it feels a bit silly to imagine yourself roaming a place like this with him as your suitor. For all you know, he could be some king from a neighboring kingdom, only offering you respite out of pity after falling from that wagon.

More likely, all of this is just some strange dreaming.

When your lunch is thoroughly picked apart on your plate, the cup emptied, you shift out of your seat and offer him a curt little bow of your head and move towards the door.

— — —

Your days are filled with him— the drab specter you’ve taken to calling König, King, simple and befitting a name as you can give to one without one. No one else lives here, at least that you can see. Not even the rats or scuttling insects you were used to dare to take up residence within this castle. Yet, you remain taken care of and well-fed. You walk at his side every morning and part ways after minimal conversation in the evening. It’s so simple yet odd it almost makes you feel uneasy.

The dreams remain through the eyes of another. Some are combat, and you don’t care for those, looking down to see blood on steel and settling with the odd sense of guilt that you’ve killed someone, even when the you who is not you does not seem to pause. In fact, he often laughs in those dreams, drinks his wine from a golden goblet while he polishes the thick mace in his lap, trousers stained with blood that is not his own.

Others are dreadfully dull. You watch as knights with long swords and silver plates circle around you, your muffled voice shouting demands of what you can only imagine must be tactics and plans for a war you would only ever be apart of in the late hour with your eyes closed.

Your unease nearly doubles on the fourth night, when you wake with a start, pulled from a dream where you see that same woman from the first wailing over a bloodied corpse to find König looming over where you rest. The curtains of your bed parted with what little moonlight filtering inside bathing him in an unearthly, bluish glow. As usual, he doesn’t breathe a word, only stares as you slowly peel back your sheet to sit up and face him fully.

“Is something wrong?,” you ask in a whisper, rubbing your palms against your eyes as you force yourself to pull through the haze of sleep.

“Du bist schön wenn du schläfst,” he hums. “Even having a nightmare.”

“You said you were not courting me.”

“I’m not, hündchen.”

He offers you a hand that you readily accept, hardly having time to marvel over just how cold his skin feels without his glove before you find your cheek pressed to a broad chest. Your breath catches in your throat, heart hammering with the urgency of a cricket’s song.

“You didn’t sleep well either?”

“Nein.”

“Maybe we could sleep together?,” you offer with a laugh that sounds stiff even to your own ears.

You expect some other quip about the status of your peculiar relationship, not a sigh, not the way König gently lowers you back into bed and climbs in to follow, not at your side, but rested with his head over the swell of your breasts. You’re almost certain your rib cage will bruise by the pounding in your chest this infatuation burdens you with.

He hums contentedly at the contact, props his chin up on the valley between your breasts.

“Warm,” he murmurs.

You reach to pull the blanket over you both without a word, staring up at the velvet curtain as you try to force yourself into a state of calm indifference.

It lasts for all of a single breath; König shifts, stroking over the fabric of your gown, bunching over your hip. His touch makes you shiver, too cold, as though he doesn’t have any body heat at all. Your arm settles over the expanse of his back, pulling him just a tad closer as you relax into the feather-stuffed mattress.

“Ja… I like this.”

“I do too...”

So, you sleep, so intertwined with one another that your body heat melts away the frigid touch of his own flesh with no discernment for where you end and he begins. Your dreams are absent in his presence, replaced by a solace you’ve never known as a comfortable stillness settles over you both.

When morning comes, an unhurried sun casting a dull glow through the arched window in the room, you’re pleasantly surprised to find him still here. You’ve shifted in the lack of dreaming, finding your positions opposite to when sleep had taken its hold; your head rests on König’s chest now, comfortably slow. He doesn’t feel as cold, though…

König does not breathe.

You hurriedly rise, throwing the covers off of you both and shove at him with a panicked urgency, desperately searching for any sort of reaction from him to ensure he hasn’t passed away in his sleep.

It’s not a corpse’s silence that you’re met with but an annoyed huff of breath as he grabs at your wrists and tugs you back down.

“Was..?” Your specter only sounds annoyed as he gazed down at you, keeping your trembling hands steady in his unyielding grip.

“You weren’t breathing! I thought…” You trail off, the words catching in your throat as you realize just how ridiculous that you sound. Of course he wasn’t dead. Even if he were a reanimation, no magic in the entirety of this kingdom would allow him to retain so much of his soul.

König only laughs at that, closes you in an embrace that sets your pulse racing again as he carefully maneuvers you below him. When he had become so familiar mattered not, you wouldn’t dare to complain. It’s achingly comfortable, brings a sigh from your parted lips as you fall back into that perfect, placid state of contentment.

“Hündchen… you worry too much,” he huffs, caging you in as he relaxes with his face pressed back to the divot between your breasts. “So many questions… too many concerns, ja?”

“I would not fret so much if you would just explain a few things.”

“Geduld.”

Though you do pout, make a show of your irritation by exhaling heavily, his tone harbors a calm finality. You’re not so sure that any reasoning for all of this would matter much at all anymore; whether it be a dream or some gentle corner of an afterlife you’ve found yourself tucked within, you only find that you never wish for it to end.

— — —

This dream is worse than any before it.

You feel your vessel’s emotions tenfold; a clamor of disquiet and rage, vicious and searing. The air is still and silent but heavy with the scent of iron. From the blurred view that you’re granted, the shapes of cadavers are easy enough to tell, all lain twisted in glistening pools of their own blood.

Your vessel isn’t moving, though you will your thoughts to encourage him to do so, he remains in place, a pillar destined to topple.

You don’t want to see it, yet waking eludes you.

The sounds of hurried footsteps fill the quiet, a shout to your right that you do not even have the capability to turn towards. Cursed are hissed, warbled and unfamiliar, only recognized by their venom. You know that this is the end, a brutal, grisly one for your counterpart and for these dreams in their entirety.

When wicked steel carves it’s way into your vessel’s middle, you feel how tightly he clenched his jaw to bite back a howl of agony, take the subdued, shooting pain spreading through him as though it were your own. Try as you might, you can not wake; forced to be a voyeur to this stranger that you’ve grown fond of’s gruesome demise.

The vessel’s head is tugged forward, forced to kneel at the feet of the brute who has buried a dagger into his side. A sneer paints the man’s face as your counterpart’s veil is thrown away, and you recognize it— that same shroud of black, stained with imagined tears as it falls to a small heap onto a bloodstained floor.

König.

You wake with a start in a haze of utter confusion, catching your breath as the truth of it all crawls down to settle someplace within you. A cold sweat settles over your skin, bringing with it the rise of slight goose pimples and an incessant tremble.

The specter is just as you had suspected in that brief moment between bonding and sleep, dead and long-forgotten; a corpse made man again. This isn’t some silent kingdom, but a well-preserved crypt.

It hurts.

You wash your face in the water of the small basin at the corner of the room, change from your bed gown into a dress of a drab gray. Even to yourself, mourning a truth that’s been glaring you in the face since your arrival feels misplaced and odd, but that horrible sadness does not subside.

At least, not until you pry your door open to find König waiting just on the other side. He cocks his head at you, gaze softening in a silent understanding as your hand is fitted into his own.

The morning walk is less quiet this morning, a single dove could be heard cooing, hidden beneath the green of some sprawling alder’s leaves. König speaks to, explains some without giving all away. He tells you what he can remember, the details of his failed courting of the foreign princess with dark eyes and a petrified stare, the plot against him that dwindled out into a curse that’s left him here, but never an estimate for how long.

You listen in a perplexed silence, clutching his hand just a bit tighter as each questioning cobweb is swept away with a low voice droning out a story better left untold.

When he finishes, with your free hand sifting it’s fingers through the petals adorning a hydrangea shrub, you think to tell him one simple truth: “I can’t bring you back.”

It startles you when he suddenly pulls you in, resting his chin atop your head and curling those broad arms over your shoulders. The embrace is tight, a certain desperation in his touch as though he almost fears the thought of you pulling away. Strange from a man you now knew had not even feared his own death.

“Nein. I just want to be understood.”

And you do understand, perfectly, as only one also touched by the rot could.

— — —

There’s never a night that you don’t find yourself asleep with König mere centimeters away, if there is any gap between at all, anymore. He feigns his breath until you’re fast asleep, takes to playing human enough to not worry you any further, even after you explain that it doesn’t, not any longer. Always, you wake to his head buried against your chest, listening to the fragile beating of your heart until you stir to wake him. Your hands rove over his veil, but never question what he hides beneath it. You already know without seeing— the wicked, sprawling scar from where his head was once wrenched from his body.

A necromancer and a lich, of all things. If the bards in the King’s city were to ever know, your story would be passed from tavern to tavern until it became little more than the stuff of myth.

The thought occurs to you when you wake, huffing a drowsy little giggle as you repeat your morning ritual, fingertips grazing over the dark fabric obscuring König’s face until heavy eyelids languidly part to focus his attention on that mirthful expression painted across your face.

“I have changed my mind,” he declares some moments later as he nuzzles in the divide between your neck and shoulder, unhurried and gentle as he always seems to be with you.

“Hm?”

“I will court you.” A statement that would make most with a better grasp on the disparity between what’s living and dead flinch back in horror. Though, where most would consider corruption, you only take it as further confirmation to your mutual devotion.

“You already have been.”

He falls silent at that for a moment, trailing a cold path of chaste kisses along your jaw, lazy and soft to a point you can feel the grin beneath his hood.

Finally, he hums in agreement.

“Then I should have you, hm?”

He drags a palm down your thigh to your knee, the pad of his thumb bunching up the fabric of your gown as he presses against you, tracing small circles.

Your mouth feels dry when you part your lips to speak once more. The words falter, engulfed in a far more desperate flame; someplace far off, in the back of your mind you can hear them echo, bouncing from cavern walls.

“Hündchen..,” he rasps quietly. Maybe he’s thought it too, that this should be far more innocent, but the way he furiously tugs your undergarments down to your ankles belies his interest far more than some ideal, ancient telling of courtship would ever allow.

“You want to..?”

König laughs, whether it’s at your words or the surprise on your face, you didn’t know. Despite your nudity, he doesn’t look at you down there, his eyes remain locked on your face. There’s something wild and uncanny about them, something bordering on madness. His breathing is heavier, as if he’s fighting back the urge to bury his head in your cunt and breathe you in, and you’re almost certain that after all of your yearning he could bring you to ruin from a puff of breath alone.

He echoes your question with barely contained amusement, until you breathe out your consent. You sound just uncertain enough to prompt him to pull away briefly, raising up to look you in the eyes as his own narrow in search of any signs of apprehension. Finding none, a heavy palm meets your chest to push you to lie down in full as his head dives between your thighs without hesitation.

The feeling of a wide tongue slipping over your slit prompts an immediate reaction— a sharp cry that has you slamming your palm over your mouth in an effort to not break the peace settled over this place.

Every lick is slow and deliberate, a far cry from enough stimulation to properly get you off. It’s as if he’s doing this to prepare you rather than bring you to ruin. His tongue thrusts into you at a languid pace, fucking you open with heady muscle rather than the cold touch of his fingers. For that you’re grateful, but it just isn’t enough.

König huffs another chuckle against your sex when you whine and buck your hips, desperately searching for a friction that just isn’t being supplied. His hands press against your hips to hold you in place, the pads of his thumbs circling against your abdomen as he tries to set you at ease.

“Be patient,” he mumbles as he raises his head, bottom lip slowly raking over the hood of your aching clit. You find it difficult to comply, but in a way you feel fortunate to even experience this much. Who else could say that they were being fucked by the tongue of a titan and be believed? His lips close around your sensitive bud, tongue languidly circling over it, kissing you there as gently as he can manage. The very moment a moan is pulled from you, breaking the silence of his concentration he tears back to lick far further down than you were prepared for, before climbing over you instead of allowing you a release.

The taste of you lingers on his tongue when your face is pushed beneath the veil, an urgent probing as he thrusts the muscle into your waiting mouth, sampling the mixture of your saliva and slick. A palm is splayed over your thigh, forcing you to open yourself to him despite the strain.

He proves he’s less patient than he pretends to be; that’s all of the preparation that you get.

A breath later you feel yourself speared open, the girth of his tip slipping into you with involuntary resistance. Your gasp is met with a keening groan from his open mouth, quickly stifled as he bites into the side of your neck. Each thrust is shallow, the head of his cock spreading you meticulously until you’re nearly in tears from your own impatience. His body temperature is far cooler than your own, and you feel as if you’re more of a mess than you’ve ever been prior as his own precum mixes with the arousal already freely dribbling past your swollen labia.

You kick your leg out, force your hips in a different angle to push him in deeper only to have his grip tighten and his teeth dig into your flesh. Again and again, until you’re a babbling mess beneath him.

“König… please..,” You manage to choke out, voice small and barely audible over the obscene sounds pulled from the wetness of your cunt.

Immediately, your pleading is answered with a slam of his hips, the thick cock forced to its hilt inside of your pulsing walls. König’s head lolls back, his free hand curling over your hip as he grunts. He isn’t making love to you, but fucking into you like a man possessed. A palm fitted over your mouth wouldn’t silence the obscene sounds of sex, nor the bed creaking beneath your combined weight as he pumps into you; each drag is pure rapture as he fills you entirely.

The repetitive spearing of your sweet spot brings you to a near-painful orgasm, trembling cunt only sucking him in further with each pulsing wave of bliss. The quiet is forgotten entirely as you whine out your praises between wanton moans and breathy cries.

He kisses you, proper and sweet when he comes. The thickness of his seed floods you, spilling out onto the sheets below as he fucks it back into you, his pace never slowing until the throbbing of his cock comes to an abrupt end.

The hand holding your leg in place retreats to gently brush your cheek, his thumb grazing beneath your eye until you reach for his wrist to pull it down to kiss over his palm. He returns your kisses with a breathy laugh before pressing his forehead to your own, kissing from the tip of your nose down to your chin.

“I do understand,” you whisper against cool flesh.

“Ja… because you were made for me.”

You don’t disagree.

This morning is the first you’ve caught sight of a breeze, gently pushing at the curtains lining the bed, the first you’ve heard of any semblance of life beyond yourself. When your eyelids flutter shut, relaxation prying away any residual tension, you almost think you can hear the pounding of a second heart— one you can only think to wish together with your own.

#könig x reader #könig x you #konig x reader #konig x you #cod fanfiction #könig #konig #and now i sleep for 40hrs farewell everyone everywhere

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