#all can prophesy

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

The Justice League had been a pain in Dannys side the last few weeks. They insisted that Danny needed a mentor, someone who could help him right in his ever growing list of abilities and whatnot. Danny snuck into one of the JL meetings in the watchtower to find out the real reason and discovered they saw him as a massive powerhouse that needed to be brought into thier side so his power "doesn't fall into the wrong hands". Ick.

Phantom was also pretty sure this had something to do with the bat be it contingency plans or adoption papers that guy is never too far from the top of Dannys list of "people I want to punt into the abyss for the weekend"

Its not that Danny doesn't want the help, he just knows how the League would eventually view him. He is of Lazarus. He is part monster. He has been ever since he died. Danny no longer thinks like a human does, he's "too violent" "obsessive" and "impulsive" by League standards.

Unfortunately, Danny is wired like that. His people are a part of the Infinite Realms immune system and play a key role in its overall ecosystem. There are legitimate biological reasons hes like this, ones that keep him from fading. The League doesn't seem to understand and he can't explain it in further detail without revealing his own weakness and the weaknesses of others like him.

So he just keeps refusing thier help...until he finds someone who the League also don't "agree" with which was strange since he was on thier team.

Plasticman was an ex criminal who has temptations towards money and has a hard time resisting. The stretchy guy also could turn his body into any shape and stretch any length he wanted and had no regard for the human form. Danny was in awe but the moment he heard the guy make a funny joke he made a decision.

If he had to choose a mentor from the JL roster than he picked this guy.

He announced his decision at the next JL meeting sending the place into an uproar.

Alternatively: Danny gives no warning and Plastic man just gets surprised when this glowy kid and his green puppy appear in front of him smiling happily and introduced himself as his new sidekick.

[xyztrio721]

I read Chuggaaconroy’s statement today.

It’s a lot to process, to say the least, but… I think the best way to summarize it is that Emile did indeed fuck up. Multiple times in fact. But it seems like he was kind of a victim in his own right at places.

I don’t know if I’m going to resubscribe to him for the time being, nor do I know if I’ll add TheRunawayGuys back to my fandom list. All I will say that I feel bad for everyone mentioned in the document, as well as Emile himself. Everyone suffered in their own way, and I hope they can all heal and move on.

[naggingatlas]

thinking about picard doing a cocomelon moment with data by singing gilbert and sullivan at him from a karaoke machine in the shuttle that data is shooting at so he calms down. this would work on me 100% ngl.

[keen-eye]

sam skywalker

kripke based sam on luke skywalker (and dean on han solo), and chuck/god is meant to be kripke/writers, so it always bothered me that in 5x01 chuck says to sam “you went, like, full-on vader” instead of “full-on sith”, which would still stick with the dark side references, but kripke/chuck doesn’t stick to his own luke parallel

seasons 1-2 = a new hope

- young adult sam skywalker, has a dead mother and is hiding from his father, joins the fight after the death of loved one(s), learns about his powers, death of obi-john and loss of guidance, sam skywalker and dean solo destroy the azazel star with a lucky shot

seasons 3-4 = the empire strikes back

- dean solo frozen in hellfire, sam skywalker deals with secret about himself kept by obi-john, is tempted by the dark side, heroes separated, they lose

season 5 = return of the jedi

- dean solo is rescued, sam skywalker faces the main villain darth lucifer, he overcomes the darkness inside he feared would corrupt him and with the power of love he saves the day as the hero

but then i thought about it and, yeah, sam is anakin skywalker too

as a child he’s trapped in a bad situation with someone he loves but he wants to run away and do more with his life. loses his mother so young, practically raised by his older brother obi-dean who was forced into the role and feels responsible for his younger brother’s morality. his conception and destiny are masterminded by darth lucifer who has a plan to groom him into becoming his partner in evil. “the chosen one”. distrusted by the light side, told his power makes him dangerous. manipulated into believing he’s doing the right thing. accused of becoming a monster by his brother “you were meant to destroy the monsters not join them”. but finally in the end he throws darth lucifer down a chasm and gets justice for the deaths of his mother and girlfriend/wife

so in the end, i’m okay with the vader comparison

jared <3s star wars

[justthatspiffy]

.

[necromycologist]

kind of a hot take but tbh despite his horrible cringefail racist nature corbin is SO interesting to me as a character. maybe the most interesting out of the wayfarers. he's just VERY, VERY angry in a way that the rest of the crew (and perhaps most of his own people considering what we hear abt Exodans culturally) just really aren't. he's a prideful git, he's overconfident, he's exacting to the point of obsession: he doesn't like other people, and they don't like him. he's very sure of where he stands, until he's not. he is abused and belittled for his origins, something completely out of his control, the same way he has belittled sissix and others and he doesn't change. he's still angry! he still doesn't understand the crew of the wayfarer, and he says as much. he's still not pleasant, he still has all the morals of an algae vat, but he's absolutely dedicated to helping the crew. and you can argue whether or not corbin injecting ohan is defensible or moral or fair until your face goes blue, but i dont think that's the point. he injects ohan and he sleeps soundly. he knows ashby is angry and he doesn't argue back. it doesn't matter to him whether or not they like him. he's content to be hated! he's absolutely certain in his actions! he is absolutely the same reprehensible git, the same egotistical control freak we meet in the first pages of the book. but even more, he is absolutely a member of the wayfarer family. perhaps not a wanted one or even a beloved one, but by god, he is there.

[cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu]

Raise your paw if you a cat. Yes you. Very goods.

[louisinart]

gm

[mashmouths]

is david "the mage" cadwallader the fucking canon from chaucer's "the canon's yeoman's tale"

[uzumakichcined]

"You're NOT EVEN LISTENING TO ME. I don't condone anything liek that that my village has done! I don't care if its your people doing it to mine or our people doing it to others INNOCENTS ARE INNOCENTS." Naruto spat.

"I'm not erasing out history I accept it. It I was erasing it I'd call you a liar and crazy because my village could never be capable of such things- but I'm NOT. I'm telling you I'm going to change it. I'm not going to stand here and tell you all the things I've done. What would it matter? You're angry and not listening and I get it I do, you have the right to be angry- I'm angry about what happened to you too."

"Every village teaches you to put your squad, your comrades first. Its that bond that makes sure everyone comes back from missions. We're taught to respect the mission and the team first. Maybe you're right. Maybe I should have helped you. Maybe I was too focused on the goal ahead. I get it. Next time I'll assess the situation differently."

Fists clench at his side, his tone somewhere between angry and self aware.

"You ask what about you? I tried to be your friend. I would have invited you back, helped you find a place to live. Helped you start a life, but you wouldn't accept that invitation would you? And then you'd blame it on me that you didn't get any of those things. You're what Pervy Sage calls a self fulfilling prophecy. You're angry so you just keep making choices that give you the reason to stay angry. You don't want help. You can't blame that on anyone else but yourself."

Naruto was angry too, but at least he had put in the effort to change his reality, from what he saw Karin wasn't willing to do the same. She wanted to stay bitter and angry. If he had learned anything from his Sasuke chase? It was that you can't help people that don't want it. You can't reach people that don't want to be reached.

"But you're WRONG. I won't give up. I WON'T EVER GIVE UP. I DON'T CARE HOW HARD IT IS. THATS MY NINDO THATS MY NINJA WAY. A year? FIVE? I DON'T CARE I'LL BE HOKAGE AND THEN ILL FIX ALL OF THIS AND YOU KNOW WHAT KARIN??"

His eyes hold that Uzumaki fire as he stares her down.

"If you need a place to stay you come look me up because I'll STILL try to help you."

" What would it matter? WHAT WOULD IT MATTER?! " She's now fully screaming straining her voice, tears piled at the sides of her eyes as she desperately tries to keep a grip on herself. " You MADE ME substantiate my claims about Lord Orochimaru. You DEMANDED I tell you and teach you about your own damn clan's tragedy. The SECOND you are held to the same standard you RUN LIKE A COWARD and use that Bijuu's Chakra to intimidate me to back off?! Don't think I didn't feel that, it's chakra smells horrid on you. I had to explain so much so you would LISTEN and now I have to be told I'm not entitled to answers?! That I don't get to understand because of why? Because I'm upset I had to reopen wounds your village caused?! "

Already her breath was starting to rapidly increase to the point of borderline hyperventilation. Everything was coming back, everything she had gone through, her skin felt horrid, her fingers twitched in a desire to scratch at it, every shadow of a mark that was left by another man's teeth. All of it felt disgusting, her skin, her flesh, every muscle, she wanted to be ill in this moment but knew she couldn't. Not here, it wasn't safe here that much was clear.

" Not every village is like your own. I'd have died in Kusagakure. My team didn't care about me. Only Sasuke had bothered to save my life in the Forest of Death, and Lord Orochimaru gave me more than I could ever have wanted. It's nice to know what you would have done, but it's too late. You talk about change this, and change that. . . but what does that mean? Change isn't always for the better. "

Staring back up at him, her eyes were unfocused, struggling to stay staring at once place as she attempted to regain her breath. Hands trembling, and twitching, eyes struggling to not dart away, and even her body language had changed that despite her words she was terrified. Karin was scared after everything; he was going to hurt her. This wasn't the first time someone had lured her in with lies of kindness only to bite her. She'd known too well how vague concepts of change, niceness, and fairness were that they couldn't be trusted.

" You're right. I don't need your help, I don't need your friends, or even a family like you. . . because Lord Orochimaru and everyone there has been and always will be a better family than what you could ever give me. This, " Karin gestured to the two of them, " only proves it. " Turning on her heel, she would start to walk away too shaken and mentally exhausted to keep going.

[phantomrose96]

Extremely generic, typical isekai anime where the main character is a high school boy who's so good at video games in his day-to-day life, but people don't respect gamers :( so he's a loser :( ...until he ends up isekai'd into a fantasy world that RUNS on video game logic.

Except this main character is a speed runner.

World record holding speed runner.

Elf-woman in the introductory episode shares the long, sad history of her realm at odds with the Demon Lord and his reign. She looks up just as she's about to describe the moment the Demon Lord killed her husband, and main character is... gone.

Several many fields away.

Naked as the day god made him because equipping the intro clothes takes 3 seconds between menu opening and character re-rendering.

The Wall of the Unfathomable, which has sealed these villagers within their own walls for generations unknown, sees its first breach in a millennium as Main Character scales it ass-backwards clipping and ragdolling up its scaffolding by abusing the collision detection logic and its impact on speed reversal.

NPCs launch into speeches which bewilder and confuse even them because they should NOT be saying anything about the deep sacred mana that can defeat the Dark Demon Lord but the fucker standing in front of him in tighty-whiteys with a level 99 helmet and the Hero Sceptor (which he should NOT have yet but) is compelling the NPC for reasons they cannot begin to comprehend.

The Demon Lord is alerted by holographic message from his most trusted underling that some disturbance has just rippled through from Elf Realm and that some portal may have just opened from the human world, which warrants some caution as the prophesied hero is said to--cut off by the MC catapulting past all 18 floors of Demon Tower security using the infinite speed jump glitch and one-shotting the Demon Lord with a single rag-doll spastic thrust through his heart which launches the Demon Lord along with MC into a 500mph spiral into the stratosphere... And somewhere, the end credits play.

[frogeyedape]

I ran out of tags XD Good Omens Spoilers Beware! (time for dinner now)

The Magic Trick You Didn’t See: Being An Analysis of Good Omens Season 2

(or: Neil Gaiman, Your Brain is Gorgeous But I Have Cracked Your Sneaky Little Code And Have You Dead To Rights*) (*Maybe)

***

Soooooo I just spent the last 48 hours having a BREATHTAKING GALAXY BRAIN EPIPHANY about Good Omens Season 2 and feverishly writing a fuckin16,000 word essay about the incredible magic trick that @neil-gaiman pulled off. 

Yes, it’s long, but I PROMISE your brains will explode. Do you want to know how magic works? Do you want to know what Metatron’s deal is (I’m like 99% sure of this and it’s EXTREMELY FUCKING GOOD)? Do you want to know about the Mystery of the Vanishing Eccles Cakes and the big fat beautiful clue I found in the opening credits? Do you go through the whole inventory of Chekov’s Firearm & Heavy Artillery Discount Warehouse? 

Here is the essay, go read it: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/ When ur done u can tell me I’m an insane crackpot, and u know what, i won’t even be offended

In case you don’t know whether you want to bother reading the whole enormous thing on google docs, I’ve put the first couple sections of it under the cut. JUST TRUST ME OKAY, HEAR ME OUT, THIS IS VERY EXTREMELY COOL, NEIL IS GOOD AT HIS JOB–

Keep reading

[smileysuh]

devil's girl

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader I ft. Mingyu & Wonwoo

🔮 preview. “Three hundred years ago, one of your ancestors promised me a descendant as my prophesied betrothed. A girl of her bloodline who would bear my hybrid offspring, children with the power of demons and witches, bodies unrestricted by the laws of heaven or hell. A witch who would be identified by the mark of the Devil, drawn through with three lines.”

tw/cw. foreplay, fingering, oral (f receiving), Cheol is low-key pussy obsessed, overstimulation, 5-inch long demon tongue, invisible demon bondage magic, the demon magic can also vibrate her clit a little, bdsm themes, slight choking, squirting, wet kink, massive cock cheol, pussy stretching, impreg/breeding/cum kink, dirty talk, service dom Cheol, consent is a must, begging, multiple reader orgasms, unprotected sex, hand job, dream/incubi threesome with Mingyu & Wonwoo, double fingering, degradation, dacryphilia, etc… I pet names: (hers) little/my sweet, pretty girl, good girl, whore/slut (1), baby, little love, etc. (his) sir, daddy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.2k

🍭 aus. king of hell!Cheol, witch descendant!y/n, prophesy, arranged marriage, yandere/possessive themes, slight kidnapping, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I feel like I need the men I write about every time, but when I tell you I need this man biblically, when I tell you I need him to kidnap me and make me the Queen of Hell and knock me up with demon hybrid babies asap-

Prologue:

It was not a fate that she would have ever wished upon any of her descendants, but there was a price to pay for power, a price to pay for life and a line continued. The old crone signed the contract, bound in blood, with the King of Hell, promising one of her own line as his future intended.

She could not foresee when the prophesied witch would be born, all she could promise The Dark King was that the descendant would bear the mark of the Devil. Somewhere in the world, there would be a girl born with a pentagram birthmark, run through with three lines, and that girl, would bear the task of giving children to the King of Hell himself.

The crone did this to solidify her line would survive the witch trials ravaging the country, the contract would ensure demonic protection from death- none of the King’s loyal followers would allow harm to fall upon any woman who could possibly birth the next Queen of Hell. 

As the trials continued, not one of the crone’s daughters were harmed. Years went by, with the crone checking every new grandaughter and great-granddaughter for marks. When it became clear that the prophesied girl would not be born in her time on Earth, she urged all her descendants to be fruitful and multiply, in the hopes that, with a large family line, the Demon King would have a harder time finding the contracted child.

Upon her death, the old crone’s family took her words to heart. Not only did the daughters multiply after the witch trials had ended, but they split. Some became nomadic, others found places to settle down and have whole swaths of children. Many of these descendants took upon new names, as women always took the last name of their husbands.

In this way, the old crone hoped to cheat the devil himself, and for a very long time, she was successful in her evasion of him.

one

“This better be important,” Seungcheol groans, shifting on his throne to assess the two low level demons in front of him. 

The incubi exchange looks, and finally one steps forward. “Sir, we found her.”

“You found her?” the King repeats. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“The witch,” the second demon says, fumbling as he also moves forward to address Seungcheol. “The one from the prophecy, with the mark.” 

The Demon King feels a twitch of something electric, it makes his finger tips jolt, and he begins to strum them along the dark marble arm of his throne. “What are your names?”

“I’m Wonwoo,” says the first incubi, “and this is Mingyu.”

“Well, Wonwoo, Mingyu, the two of you better not be wrong.” Seungcheol stands up. “Where is she?”

“We can give you the details, only…” Mingyu casts an anxious look toward Wonwoo, “we’re pretty sure she was wearing a high level demon ward.”

“What?” The word comes out as a growl, and in the lava fields of hell that stretch as far as the eye can see behind him, there’s a tremor that betrays the King’s rage.

“A demon ward,” Wonwoo repeats. “An heirloom. It’s a necklace. We tried to get her to take it off, but even while dreaming, she was pretty protective over it.”

Seungcheol can’t believe what he’s hearing. It’s been over three hundred years since he’d made a contract with the old crone. Three hundred years of waiting for the ability to sire a line with a witch who would be able to withstand the process. He’d almost given up the hope of ever finding his betrothed, only for two sinful incubi to find her in the dream state. The fact that she’s warded is the cherry on top of this whole fucking thing.

“That bitch,” Seungcheol groans. “The old crone has done everything in her power to make sure our contract would never be fulfilled, and she’s even left warding jewlery.” 

If the witch wasn’t in heaven, Seungcheol would pay a visit to her himself to enact his revenge for this final piece of treachery.

You do a service to save an entire line of witches, and this is how they intend to pay back your kindness. 

“It’s not the end though,” Wonwoo offers helpfully. “We just have to convince her to take the necklace off, that will break the ward, and you can summon yourself into her room as soon as it’s off.”

“If the two of you do this for me,” Seungcheol notes, “you will be rewarded.”

“We’re just happy we found her for you,” Mingyu says, voice shaky. “It’s been a very long time.”

Too long, in fact. 

two

You’re lost in a dreamy haze. Two pairs of lips are on your throat, one man pressed to your front, the other at your back. Hands caress your form, and nothing has felt this real. You’re moaning, eager for the fiery touches.

“We need you to do something for us,” the man in front of you whispers, licking past the shell of your ear and making you shiver.

“Anything,” you blurt out, already reaching for his cock.

A hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. When you meet the stern man’s gaze, you note the darkness in his eyes. 

“This is a pretty necklace,” he muses, as the person at your back nips at the chain that encircles your throat.

“It’s a-” you swallow back your lust, trying to form words, “an heirloom.”

“How badly do you want to be fucked, naughty girl?” 

“So bad,” you whimper, pressing your thighs together in the hope that you can quench some of your sexual appetite. 

“Then you need to promise us that when you wake up, you’ll take this pretty necklace off, only for a while.”

“Huh?” You’re confused, and the man behind you immediately brings his hand to your core, stroking you through your nightie. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you feel like they’ve asked you to do this before- but your memory is as fuzzy as the vision in front of you, and the men are more than distracting.

“You can do this for us, right?” he presses. “Please?”

“Why do you need me to take my necklace off?” you ask. It had been a parting gift from your mother before you were put up for adoption, and in her note, she’d warned you never to take it off. You can already feel yourself becoming restless at the turn of this dream, what had started so sweet and sexual has turned darker than you’d been ready for.

“It looks like it needs a little… TLC, don’t you think, baby?” One large finger slips into your core, and at the same time, the man in front of you tugs down your dress to access your breast, flicking at the nipple.

“Tell us you’ll do this,” murmurs the one with his mouth on your chest.

Your fingers tangle through his dark curls, keeping him on your breast while he begins to suck on your sensitive bud. It’s practically impossible to say no to them.

“Okay,” you whisper finally, voice shaky. “Just for a little.”

“There’s our good girl,” the one in front growls, adding a hand to his friend’s so he can slip his own finger into your dripping core. They both begin to work you open, and you can’t help the gasps of pleasure that begin to escape you, your grip flying to broad shoulders to keep yourself standing between the two large men.  “Now we all get our reward.”

three

You wake up feeling relaxed but needy. You remember ghosted touches as you head for a morning shower, washing your body and remembering strong hands trailing along the same path. 

As you do your usual skin routine, your necklace catches your eye in the bathroom mirror, and you’re reminded of the promise you’d made in your dream. Upon inspection, you do think the necklace could use a little refurbishment- you’ve been wearing the chain since childhood, where your commitment to never taking it off had been like life and death.

If you’d had a dream about removing it, if even for a little while, maybe that was your subconscious telling you it’s time to let go of the hold your mother has on you. After all, she gave you up- what do you owe her? What’s the point in still wearing this around?

With a sigh, you reach behind yourself, fiddling with the clasp. There have been a few times you’ve been required to take the necklace off, at hospitals, or the dentist, certain airports- it won’t kill you to remove it for a little while today.

You don’t think much of it as you set the heirloom onto your bathroom counter, in fact, you’re already planning out breakfast. You go to the kitchen, humming to yourself while you open the fridge to look at the contents inside. 

As you reach for the orange juice, the hairs on the back of your neck begin to raise, and you feel a powerful energy, as if you’re being watched.

“Goodmorning, sweet girl.” 

The sudden voice makes you jump, heart lurching into your throat as you whip around.

There’s a man standing in your kitchen. He’s dressed in all black, with a long silky jacket over top of dress pants and a matching charcoal shirt. His hair is dark too, and he has a smirk on his handsome face.

It only takes you a moment to assess ‘oh, he’s hot’ and one more to decide to throw your juice directly at him.

The man quickly lifts his hand, flicking two fingers. It’s as if the container of orange juice hits some invisible barrier, and it goes flying directly into your sink.

“Don’t be like that,” he tuts, clicking his tongue. “Is that any way to greet a man like me?”

“Who are you?” you ask, mouth going dry as you cower back against the fridge, feeling suddenly very naked in your tiny shorts and crop top. 

“An angel,” the man says simply, but the all black outfit is a dead give away that he’s lying.

“Yeah?” you let out a small laugh. “What’s your name then, mister Angel?”

He stares at you for a moment, something dark flashing over his features. When he smiles this time, you notice sharp canines. “Satan.” 

Your entire body runs cold. “I don’t…” You lick your lips. “I don’t see any devil horns, or a tail-”

“Would you like to see them?”

“No?” 

The man takes a step toward you. “You’re reacting better than I expected, Devil’s girl.”

“Devil’s girl?” you repeat, pressing your back tighter to the fridge in an effort to get away from him as he approaches closer and closer.

“That’s you,” he nods. “That’s what you are. It’s who you were destined to be.”

“I don’t know much about destiny-”

“Why would you?” he shrugs. “It’s been three hundred years since your family agreed to the dept they owe me. In that time, you witches have made it extra hard for me to keep track of all of you. I’m not surprised you don’t know anything about the prophecy, although, I will admit I’m a little disappointed you clearly haven’t stepped into your powers yet. Part of me had been hoping for a bit of a fight.”

“I can still fight you-” you insist, reaching out to grab a weapon from the knife block, brandishing it at the intruder.

He simply laughs, and with the flick of his fingers the knife goes flying out of your hand, landing in the sink next to the juice. “Silly little girl,” he grins. “Power reacts only to power, and though I can see you have power in your veins, it’s clear that no one has unlocked it for you. Don’t worry, I’ll help you get there.”

“Why would I want your help?” You cower back against the fridge, unable to move from where you’re standing. It feels like your feet are weighed down, and you wonder if this is another one of his magic tricks.

The devil puts his hand on the surface next to your head, blocking you into your fate. “Because, silly girl, at the moment, I’m your fiance, and soon, I’ll be your husband.”

“What?” The word comes out as a croak, your heart going a mile a minute in your chest.

“Three hundred years ago, one of your ancestors promised me a descendant as my prophesied betrothed. A girl of her bloodline who would bear my hybrid offspring, children with the power of demons and witches, bodies unrestricted by the laws of Heaven or Hell. A witch who would be identified by the mark of the Devil, drawn through with three lines.” 

Realization washes over you. The mark on your ass- the peculiar birthmark, the mark you’ve always been insecure about-

“How…” you swallow thickly. “Why now? How did you find me?”

“I had help. Two incubi found you in your dreams. You were wearing an heirloom with a ward against me, but lucky for us, they convinced you to take off the silly little crone necklace. I couldn’t touch you while you had it on, couldn’t be in the same room as you, but now… I can be here with you, and…” he reaches out a hand, dragging a finger along your collarbone, “I can touch you.” 

“And if I say no to all of this?” you ask. “If I say no to marrying a man who’s literally Satan?”

“Then I’ll convince you,” the demon leans close, his hot breath ghosting over your throat. “I can be awfully convincing… also, if it makes you feel better, don’t call me Satan.”

“Then what should I call you?”

“Seungcheol.” There’s a softening in his tone when he says this new name, and as you stare at his handsome face, you realize that is suits him. “And what should I call you, my sweet?”

You whisper your name and Seungcheol repeats it. You can tell he’s enjoying the taste of it on his tongue, and as you share this close proximity with the man who claims you’re his betrothed, you realize your innate attraction to him, despite the circumstance. 

“So…” you lick your lips. “What now?”

“Now, little sweet, I take you back to my Kingdom.”

“You mean Hell.”

He grins, and you once again get a view of those sharp teeth. You wonder what they’ll feel like against your skin, and the thought has your body tingling with lust and shame. 

“What if I don’t go with you.”

“Like I said, I’m awfully convincing, but on this one, you don’t have a choice.” He lets out a sigh, playing with a strand of your hair. “There are many religions in this world, little sweet, and in many of them, the King of Hell gets his Persephone. Although, in this case, you have no Demeter to protect you. The witch who promised you to me is long since dead, and your family line got muddled and convoluted in the hopes that it would hide you from me. Unfortunately for them, I’m here to collect, and there’s no one in the world who can stop me.”

“But, I mean-” you search for any way to get out of this. “I have a job-”

“Yeah? Tell me about this job.” 

You can’t believe he’s humouring you, a slight appearance of interest appearing in his features. “I’m a full time baby sitter, an au pair,  the girls are expecting me-”

Seungcheol lets out a low growl from deep in his chest. “So you’re good with children.”

Your mind goes back to what he’d said not minutes ago: ‘A girl of her bloodline who would bear my hybrid offspring, children with the power of demons and witches, bodies unrestricted by the laws of Heaven or Hell.’

Of course the King of Hell has an impreg kink and is turned on by your job as a nanny. 

“I can’t go with you,” you insist.

His hand wraps around your throat, thumb teasing your jaw. “It’s not your choice.”

His eyes flare a fiery red colour, and it feels as if the air is sucked out of your lungs. Your hair ruffles, as if you’re in a wind tunnel, and a moment later, you’re no longer standing in your kitchen.

Seungcheol releases your neck, gesturing to the room you’re now in. “This is your new home,” he announces, giving you a moment to take in the black marble floors, scarce furniture, and large bed in the center of the space. There’s a floor to ceiling window that encompasses a whole wall, and through it, you see what can only be decribed as a literal Hellscape. 

You can’t help it, you approach the window, mind going blank as you stare out at the fire fields. 

Seungcheol is silent as he comes up behind you, pressing two hands to the windowed wall and blocking you in with your back to his chest. You can feel his breath along your throat. “Welcome to Hell, sweet thing. This is all yours now, although, I doubt I’ll let you leave this room too often, not until I know I can trust you.”

It’s funny to hear Satan talking about his ability to trust you- a girl who’s done her best to be good her whole life. 

Seungcheol’s lips brush by your ear. “Should we get started, then?”

“Started on what?”

“You know what.” He presses a shockingly soft kiss to your throat, nose nuzzling by your jaw.

“Please, don’t hurt me.”

“I’ll be honest with you, little one, I’m not a nice man. But… I’ll be good to you, if you’re good for me.” One of his hands slips down from the window to grab at your hip, tugging your back flush to his chest. “The way you were good for Mingyu and Wonwoo in your dreams last night.” 

The names mean nothing to you, as the men in your wet dream had never given them, although, they must be the incubi he was talking about earlier. The fact that Seungcheol knows about your sinful nightly escapades with two other demons has you feeling shy, your skin heating at his words.

“Even so, demons need consent to enter human bodies,” the King of Hell explains. “Which means, if you withdraw your consent, I’ll be forced to stop. Although… something tells me you’ll consent.”

His hand glides from your hip to your exposed abdomen, and he teases you on what path he’s going to take- up to your breasts, or down to your aching core.

“What…” you swallow back a moan, “What makes you so sure?”

“I can smell your arousal, sweet girl, and there are signs I can see too.” His hand smooths up to your breast, and he squeezes your sensitive flesh, thumb brushing over your hardened nipple. “I think you’re well aware that I’m going to fuck you, in a way you’ve never even dreamed of being fucked before.”

Your breath catches, and you bite at your lower lip to stop a whimper from slipping out of you. Your back arches, pushing your chest more into his large palm.

Seungcheol grins against your throat. “I can see how much you want this, little sweet. Do you want to see how much I want you?”

He grinds his front against your ass, and you can feel his hard cock- fuck, he feels big. You shiver at the realization that your betrothed is packing, and Seungcheol laughs at your reaction.

“Tell me you want this,” he commands.

“I-” You bite your tongue.

His hand wraps around your throat, lips moving to your ear. “Tell me you want this.” 

“I want this,” you admit weakly. 

“That’s my good girl,” Seungcheol growls. His hand raises from you neck, fingers finding your jaw again. He prompts you to turn your head, meeting his gaze as he leans over your shoulder, looking down at you with a dark expression. 

You know what’s coming, and you can’t help yourself as he draws your lips to his own. Your eyes flutter shut, mind going blank as you enjoy the feeling of him. He’s warm, but you suppose you should expect that from the King of Hell. 

The kiss deepens all too quickly, and you find yourself turning in his embrace, grabbing at his broad shoulders to pull him even closer. 

Seungcheol lets out a growl when your breasts press against his chest, and he leans down, grabbing at the back of your thighs so he can lift you off the marble floor. He presses you back against the window, tongue tasting your own and dominating you as he kisses you like a man who’s waited a hundred years for this- or, strike that, a man who’s waited three hundred years. 

There’s a rage in the way he kisses you, rage in the fact that he was forced to wait so long, but behind the rage is something like desperation. His fingers dig into your thighs, his mouth unrelenting against your own.

You’re not sure how long the kiss lasts, but soon, he’s carrying you to the bed. He sets you onto the lavish mattress, tearing at your clothes until you’re naked before him. He towers over you, staring down at your body while you catch your breath.

“Beautiful,” he muses, reaching down to massage your breast, which sends sparks of delight through your entire form. “You were made for me. My sweet. My little queen. My lost witch.”

When he says it like this, something about it feels right. 

Something about him feels right, as if your soul has accepted him, even after such a short amount of time. 

Then, in the most shocking twist of events, the King of Hell himself gets onto his knees for you. “Come here, my sweet,” Seungcheol says softly, grabbing at your thighs to tug you down the silk sheets toward his face. “It’s time for me to have a taste.” 

He leans toward your core, taking in a lewd breath before letting it fan across your skin. Your core throbs at the proximity. Seungcheol grins at your reaction, tongue moving to prod his own fang- which is when you realize, his tongue is like his cock: monstrous. 

You suck in a choked gasp, eyes widening. You’d thought he was going easy on you by giving you his mouth first, come to find out his tongue alone is probably as large as most men’s cocks- this must be a Devil thing, but before you can think too hard about it, Seungcheol is licking your slit and your mind goes silent.

A whimper escapes you, your back arching, core pushing closer to his face. Seungcheol lets out a small chuckle, his large hands finding your abdomen to pin you in place. “Stay still and take it, pretty girl,” he warns. “Or there will be… consequences.”

He licks at you again, flicking your clit with as skilled a tongue as you’ve ever had. Your pussy is already throbbing with need, and it takes everything inside of you not to buck toward his face again.

You can feel him watching you when you throw your head back, whimpering at the way he circles your clit. Then he drags his tongue down, dipping it into your wet heat. Your body tenses at the intrusion, mind short cirucuiting as inch after inch of tongue invades you, licking at your walls while Seungcheol groans at your taste.

Fuck- a five inch tongue is definitely a demon thing, but you can’t bring yourself to hate it as he begins to literally tongue fuck you stupid. 

Not only does Cheol have the largest tongue you’ve experienced, and a willingness to use it, he’s got an eagerness in the way he eats you out. It’s as if he’s trying to devour you, holding nothing back as he growls and groans his way through working you up to your orgasm. 

The feeling bubbling in the pit of your stomach is hot and all consuming, your muscles tensing with effort as you get closer and closer to your peak.

“Fuck- Cheol-” you whimper, unable to hold it in any longer as your hips push toward his face, one of your hands moving down to grab at his hair-

It’s as if hot, invisible handcuffs wrap around your wrists, tugging them up and over your head, pinning you to the bed while you squirm with confusion and lust.

“What did I say about consequences if you didn’t behave yourself?” Seungcheol asks, pulling away from your core and licking his wet lips with that tongue of his.

“I-” you push at the invisible binds on your wrists. “I’m sorry- I was just so close-”

“So close that you lost your manners?” He taps his fingers along your abdomen. “That’s not very queenly of you, my sweet.”

“I’m sorry-” you say again, tears begin to form in your eyes as you feel your orgasm dissipating. “Please-”

“Please, what?”

“Your tongue- I was so close-”

“Do you really deserve it?”

“Yes!”

“You’ll be good for me?”

“Of course, I’ll be so good-”

“If you’re not good for me,” he warns, “you don’t get to cum, remember that.”

“Yes, okay, I understand-” you fight the urge to thrash in his embrace, and it feels like forever that he assesses you before finally bringing his face between your thighs again.

Just as his tongue is about to lap at your pussy, he stops. “Actually, I want to hear you beg for this. Beg for me to let you cum.”

You’re practically delirious, muscles still tight in preparation for your orgasm, and you’ll do anything he says right now. “Please, please, Sir- please let me cum!”

Seungcheol lets out a satisfied growl. “Sir, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “I’ll take that for now, but pretty soon, you’ll be calling me daddy.”

You whimper at his words, core dripping with spit and arousal. “Please-”

He buries his face in your pussy again, holding nothing back. His hands move down to your thighs, squeezing and adding a slight pain that has your entire body tingling. Gasps escape you, escalating in pitch as he drags you closer and closer to your orgasm again-

“Cumming,” you whisper, as the most intense orgasm of your life slams into you.

You do your best not to thrash around, but as Seungcheol obscenely tongue fucks you through your high, it’s the most you can do to stay as still as possible. You push up against the invisible binds on your wrists, gasping and whimpering-

“Fuck, my clit- it’s too sensitive-” you try to tell him, only for Seungcheol to focus more on the sensitive bud.

Your toes curl, a strangled sob escaping you at the stimulus. All you can do is lay there and take the pleasure he’s giving you- you’d thought he was being nice when he’d decided to eat you out, but you see now that maybe there was a bit of sadism in it. He’s clearly enjoying making you cum so hard that you’re beginning to cry, your muscles screaming at you from how tense you are-

“Please, please, please-” 

With one final flick at your clit that has you letting out a high pitched squeal, Seungcheol pulls away from your pussy. He blows hot air on your core and you twitch, thighs closing, body shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Look at you, crying and I haven’t even given you my cock yet,” Seungcheol muses, standing up and staring down at your body. 

He pulls off his shirt, and even through your tears, you take a good look at his chiseled form. 

Fuck, he’s even more gorgeous with his skin showing. His shoulders are broad, arms all beefy and strong- he’s an absolute unit, but you guess you shouldn’t have expected anything less from the King of Hell. 

Then he goes for his pants, pushing them down to reveal the largest cock you’ve ever seen in person.

Your mouth begins to water, fuzzy mind trying to figure out just how many inches this man is about to bury into your wet, twitching pussy.

“Think you can take it, pretty girl?” he asks, wrapping a hand around the base and pumping his hard length.

“Something tells me you’ll make it fit,” you whisper, your core throbbing at the idea.

Seungcheol grins. “We just met, and you already know me so well. Guess that’s part of the whole destined to be together thing. Makes shit easier.”

Instead of getting on top of you, Seungcheol tugs you closer to the foot of the mattress, then, with one twitch of his fingers, the entire bed raises, positioning you exactly where he needs you to be in order for him to fuck you while standing up.

He grabs at your breast, teasing your nipple while you mewl. Your own hand reaches out for his cock, and he allows you to grab him. You wipe your thumb across the angry red tip, smearing precum along his shaft to add lubrication, making it easier to pump his cock slowly while he continues to tease your nipples. 

His hand begins to decend, and he teases two fingers along your pussy lips. “I guess I can be nice and stretch you out,” he sighs, slipping the digits into your core. 

It’s a kindness you’re not sure you expected from him, and it prompts you to squeeze his cock tighter in your palm while he begins to finger fuck you open, scissoring his digits and testing your inner walls. 

“I can’t fucking wait to ruin your perfect little pussy,” Seungcheol groans, fucking you even harder. “You’re squeezing my fingers so fucking well, gonna be a good girl and squeeze my cock even better.”

“Yes, Sir,” you whimper, abdominal muscles tensing as he begins to stroke your gspot. 

“Should I give you one more before I give you my cock?” Seungcheol asks, thumb finding your clit and making you cry out. “You’re already wet, baby, but I want you dripping when I finally fuck you stupid.”

You pump is cock faster as he pistons his fingers into your gspot, his thumb unrelenting on your sensitive bud. He works you up to another orgasm with deadly precision, your entire body tensing with pleasure before falling over the edge.

“That’s it,” Seungcheol growls, fingers fucking you through your high. “That’s a good girl, squirting all over my fucking hand-”

No man has ever made you squirt before, and the feeling is intense. You’re gasping, crying from how good it feels, like an overwhelming sense of relief washing over you, a warmth spreading out from your core.

The sound of your squirt is obscene too, gushy, spongy noises filling the room with each pump of Seungcheol’s fingers.

“Sir,” you whimper, “need your cock-”

“Yeah? Is my good girl finally ready to please her King?”

You can only nod, letting go of his cock in favor of grabbing the sheets, needing an anchor for what’s about to come next.

“You know what this means, right?” Seungcheol asks, teasing his tip along your wet pussy lips. “You know I’m going to cum so fucking deep inside of you that you’re going to be dripping for days.”

You nod again, whimpering at the idea.

“You want to be bred though, don’t you, pretty girl? You’re practically begging for it now. What happened to the girl who threw juice at me this morning? All it took was a little cock and you’re dick whipped for you King.”

“All it took was a big cock,” you correct him, skin flushing at the words that have just slipped out of him.

Seungcheol laughs, his canines sparkling in the low light of the room. “Biggest cock you’ve ever had,” he agrees. “Biggest cock you ever will have. After this, you’re mine. Completely. Body and soul.” 

In past relationships, you’ve toyed with the idea of forever. It’s been a thought that strikes fear in your heart, but for some reason, looking up at the King of Hell, forever doesn’t scare you anymore.

Something tells you he’s going to take care of you, in a way no one ever has.

It’s clear he’s very protective over you. He believes in soulmates, in destiny, in prophecy- you’re his perfect match, and he’s fully bought into that idea… maybe you’ll buy into it someday too.

“I’m yours,” you agree finally, staring up at the beautiful devil.

He bends over you, pressing his lips to your own. With one hand, he cups your cheek, keeping you close, and with the other, he guides his cock to your pussy again, slowly pushing in.

You gasp against his mouth at the immediate stretch of his cockhead in your tight core, your hands flying to his shoulders.

“I know,” he coos, “I know, but it will feel good in a second, I promise.”

You’re happy he made you squirt, because the wetness coating your pussy makes it easy for him to slowly slide inch after inch into your core. He thrusts shallowly, and the movement helps your body become adjusted to his massive size.

You’re shocked at how big he is- it was one thing to see it, and another thing entirely to feel him- to feel the vein running along the underside of his cock while it drags against your sensitive walls.

Seungcheol’s mouth is hot against your own, his tongue seemingly back to a normal size as he licks at your lips. You think he must be trying to distract you from the intense feeling of being stretched out on his cock, and it’s another kindness you’d never expected from him.

When he’s fully sheathed in your core, you both let out groans of pleasure. 

The King of Hell straightens again, looking down at you while his hands graze your form. “Ready, sweet girl?”

You nod, licking your lips. “Yes, please.”

He grabs your hips, holding you steady so he can begin to rut into you.

Your view of him is insane. How is his body so perfect? He’s chiseled in the best of ways, his chest looks downright biteable, his biceps bulging as he holds you down, his abdominal muscles clenching with each thrust-

You’re absolutely delirious for him, your own hands finding your chest to tease your nipples.

Seungcheol’s gaze shifts to where you’re touching yourself, and a smirk appears on his face. “Fuck, baby, that good, huh?”

You can only nod and let out a needy mewling sound, pinching at your nipples and making your back arch while he rails your pussy.

Each drag of his cock along your sensitive inner walls has you seeing stars, and when his hand flattens over your abdomen, you nearly loose it.

“This is how deep I am,” he tells you. “Bet having-” he groans, “Bet having your guts rearranged by the King of Hell wasn’t on your bingo card this year, was it, little love?”

“No, sir,” you shake your head, whimpering at the feeling of pressure on your stomach from his hand. God- why does this feel so good? You can feel him everywhere, he’s all consuming, and that familiar feeling of an oncoming orgasm is building yet again.

“I can feel you tensing up,” Seungcheol notes with a laugh, his thumb moving down to find your clit. “Gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes, daddy,” you mewl, the title feeling more than natural on your lips.

Seungcheol’s grip on your hip tightens at the word, his thumb applying more pressure to your clit while he fucks you even harder, impaling you on his massive cock with each rough thrust.

“Beg for daddy to let you cum.”

“Please- please, daddy, fuck- I wanna cum so bad, wanna make you feel good-”

“I’m not cumming with you, not yet,” he warns. “As much as I love this position, there’s only one way I want you when I’m filling you with my seed, and that’s on your hands and knees, face buried in the pillows, crying like my good little whore.”

His words have your pussy fluttering around his cock, and it makes his grin widen.

“You like that, huh? Like the idea of being my perfect little cock slut?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Made for me,” he grunts, pinching your clit and making you cry out. “You were fucking made for me. Cum on my cock, baby, show me you deserve it.”

You can’t even fight the command, your body short circuiting, muscles clenching as you follow through with what he wants. Your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks, pussy clamping down on Seungcheol’s large cock.

He doesn’t stop, he only fucks you harder as you squeal and thrash against the bed- when you reach out to grab his arms, the invisible binds appear again, pinning your hands above you.

Seungcheol laughs, but there’s a groan in the sound too, and you know you’re probably squeezing him like a fucking vice. 

“Good girl,” he growls, and it only makes your pussy flutter harder.

The squelching sound returns, and you can’t even find it within yourself to be shy about the way your body is reacting to him, you’re too overwhelmed by the euphoria surging through your being to think cohesively.

“You’re crying again,” Seungcheol notes. “How cute.” His pace slows, and suddenly he’s grabbing at your jaw, hauling you into a sitting position, your face just inches from his own. 

His eyes are dark as he looks at you, then his long tongue is lolling out of his mouth, licking away your tears while you struggle and shiver, his cock buried so deep inside of you that you think you might faint.

“Tell me you’re ready for me to breed you,” Seungcheol growls.

“I’m ready for you to breed me,” you say meekly, core throbbing again at the idea.

The King of Hell presses his lips against your own, kissing your breath away while you claw at his shoulders. Then, as suddenly as he’d kissed you, he pulls away, cock slipping from your core and making you whine. 

“Onto all fours,” he instructs.

The bed slowly lowers to an acceptable height while you fumble on shaky legs to get into doggy position. 

“That’s my good girl,” Seungcheol praises you, the bed dipping as he joins you on his knees behind you. His large hands find your body, skimming along your sides.

Then he grabs the back of your neck, shoving your face down into the mattress. 

“Part of me wants to thank you for making this so easy,” he says. “But another part of me thinks you should be the one thanking me for giving you the opportunity to carry the children of the King of Hell.”

“Thank you,” you murmur.

Seungcheol scoffs. “You can thank me when my cum is dripping out of your used hole and you’re still begging for more.”

He slams his cock back into you, and a cry escapes your lips. God, in this position, he feels even deeper- if that’s possible.

Your toes curl at the sensation, and with every rough thrust, his balls clap against your clit, making you dizzy with pleasure.

His grip on the back of your neck increases, skilled fingers finding the arteries that flow to your brain- soon, you’re not only dizzy with pleasure, but dizzy from air being restricted too. It’s a beautiful, tingling feeling, and it has you clawing at the bed, arching your back as you moan like a desperate whore for him. 

You feel something on your clit, but both of Seungcheol’s hands are still occupied, one on your hip, one on your neck-

That’s when you realize that whatever invisible magic grip he’d used to pin you to the bed, he can use to pleasure you too-

Now, you truly feel him everywhere. 

“Fuck, fuck-” you struggle against the mattress, another orgasm bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

“That’s it, take it.” 

“Are you close?” you ask, and from the silence that you’re met with, you’re pretty sure you’ve caught him off guard. “Please tell me you’re close- I want to be full so bad, want you to breed me, Cheol- please-”

He sucks in a shaky breath, gripping your hip so hard that you’re pretty sure you’re going to bruise. His hand moves away from your neck in favour of grabbing both sides of your waist. He roughly pulls your ass back to meet each hard thrust.

“Keep begging.” 

“Please, daddy, please- fuck, this is what you wanted me for, right? This is what I owe you? Then give it to me- give me everything, breed me-”

“Cum for me first,” Seungcheol commands. “Cum on my cock so I know you deserve it.”

The magic on your clit suddenly feels like a harsh vibration, and it’s enough to tip you over the edge. You grab at the bed sheets, letting out a primal sound of pleasure as your core clamps down on Seungcheol’s length for a second time.

He lets out his own groan, and a moment later you feel his cum shooting deep inside of you, filling you up in ways you never even imagined possible.

He fucks you through your highs, his grip unwavering on your hips. It feels amazing to be used like this, to feel rope upon rope of Seungcheol’s seed invading you and coating your walls.

And the sounds he’s making- rough grunts and groans- you’ve never heard anything like it. You’ve never been this head over heals for someone before, and the notion shocks you.

Maybe you really were meant for each other- it’s hard to say what’s real as you sacrifice yourself to be his little cum dump, taking every last drop until he stills behind you, cock still buried to the hilt.

He’s breathing heavily, his gasps teasing your back. 

Neither of you say anything for a solid minute.

One of his hands leaves your hip, trailing along your spine. “Good girl.” 

You can only whimper in response. 

“I will admit, I’m still disappointed you’re not adept in the art of witchcraft, although, that’s hardly your own fault.” What a topic change. “I’ll find you someone to teach you, you’ll have lots of time to devote to the craft.”

His palm flattens against the small of your back, and he wordlessly prompts you to flatten onto your belly, pressing his own large chest against you like a blanket. His lips find your throat, and he peppers your skin in kisses. 

“Your days will be spent learning how to be a Queen, and your nights will be spent like this, with me.” His nose nuzzles by your cheek. “And tomorrow, I’ll make you my bride, officially.”

“Tomorrow?” you squeak. “Isn’t that a little… too soon?”

“I’ve waited three hundred years for you, little love. At this point, there’s no such thing as too soon.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading!

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview.  “Trust me, little love, I haven’t cum in you for months, pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to help myself even if I tried.” With a grin, you allow Seungcheol to cup his fingers around the nape of your neck, dragging your lips to his. He kisses you as eagerly as he had the very first time, pushing you backward with his large form until you bump against the window. “I’ve got an idea,” your husband tells you, his mouth moving to your throat. “I wanna fuck you against this, want you to look at your kingdom while I pump our second heir deep into your perfect little pussy.”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, impreg kink, cum kink, oral (f recieving), fingering, demon magic as a vibrator, fucking against a window, fucking while wearing a dress, quickie, biting/marking/blood licking, breast play, dirty talk, praise, begging,  etc…   I petnames. (hers) baby, little love, little sweet, etc… (his) daddy, sir. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.7k I teaser wc. 200

🌙 staring. Seungcheol x afab!reader

bonus

Hell is no place to raise a child, and it’s not a place that is easily accessible to witches either- which is why, soon into your pregnancy, Seungcheol made it his mission to find you a safe haven on Earth that you could call home.

Nestled in a small valley, far from any towns or cities, Seungcheol crafted you a home. It’s a cottage, very different from the Hell palace you’d become accustomed to.

Your days are spent basking in the sunshine with your tutor, a witch of a strong family blood line who had long been acquainted with the King of Hell. Your teacher, a woman named Faeble, also acted as your midwife, ensuring your birth with your first child was as seamless as possible, with the aid of magic of course.

She tends to the wards, teaching you about the ways of the witches, and helps you raise your son- she’s become like the mother you never got to have, and your days are peaceful. 

In the evenings, Seungcheol appears, whisking you and your son away to the safety of Hell. It’s a simple little life you’ve made for yourself, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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[stormhearty]

Pushed to the Edge

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Trigger: angst, cheating, suicide, death

Word Count: 3k

Summary: You were the official seer of Night Court for nearly 500 years. the Inner Circle had always listened to you and your visions; however, when the Archeron sisters came and Elain started to show her powers, your family started to shift their attention to her visions. When you try to voice your warnings about the death-lord’s resurrection, everyone gave you the cold shoulder, ignoring your prophesies — this included your mate.

Note: no hate to Azriel or Elain, it just helped with the plot. and Also, I know it's completely unreasonable for Azriel to not have the Truth-Teller be with him at all times, just go with it for now. And I am working on “Reach Your Voice” Series, I’m still trying to figure out how to make sure each of our boys spends quality time with the reader.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue

<Pushed to the Edge> Masterlist

“That sounds absolutely absurd… How many times will you try to warn about something that will never happen?”

Your voiced died in your throat as you watched Rhysand look at you with apprehension before focusing on the paperwork in front of him.

You had ran into his office, waking up in cold sweat after another vision of another Death God crawling it’s way back into Prythian. You had tried to forewarn your High Lord for weeks on end ever since you first saw that vision. However, your warnings had been ignored by Rhysand. You knew that it sounded impossible, you knew that, Prythian had just finished a war — one that almost destroyed the world.

After the war with the King of Hybern, Prythian was slowly returning to its normal … well, attempting to fix what was broken by the King. The Night Court was healing, trying to rebuild itself again to its glory, helping other Courts to fix the damages that the war caused. Rhysand had been through an ordeal, losing his life to save Prythian and you knew that your High Lord was still recuperating from that tragedy. You knew that your High Lady was as well, almost losing her mate.

They didn’t need another war to happen when peace had barely returned.

But you also knew there was another reason your High Lord had been ignoring your for forewarning. You looked to the side, one where the rest of the Inner Circle was watching the confrontation. Cassian and Nesta, sitting close to each other, a glass of wine in their hands, whispering to each other, mostly likely about you and your vision. You could barely pick up with your keen Fae hearing on what they were saying.

“Do you think what she’s saying is real? That Koschei is trying to come back?”

“Elain hasn’t seen it though…”

The whisper of the middle Archeron child echoed in your ears as you looked at the Made Fae. She sat next to the window, brown eyes that seemed to sparkle like the sun rested on you before turning over to the male that she was sitting with. Your gaze followed hers to Azriel — your mate— but you can see that he didn’t bother to glance in your direction, only to focus on the delicate female next to him.

It hurt. You watched as the two of them conversed, glancing back in your direction before focusing on each other.

It was no secret, not for you, on Elain’s growing infatuation for the Shadowsinger, and in turn his own growing affections for the middle Archeron child — and in turn, losing his love for you.

You woke up in an empty bed, your mate missing from his side. You tried to talk to Cassian about how his day went, on if he would still train you with the Valkyries if he had time. You tried to converse with Rhysand and Feyre, seeing if they were healing properly after the war, wanting to make sure your High Lord and Lady were safe. You sought after you mate, wanting to spend even a second with him.

But they disregarded you so easily. Especially after they had found out that Elain had similar powers to you, one that was gifted to her by the Cauldron — one that was deemed more powerful than your own.

Your role as the Official Seer of Night Court was granted to you after Helion had sent you as an emissary for Day Court. Helion had found you wandering around Day Court lands. You had been a wandering child, with no real attachment to any Court, abandoned in the streets by your family at the age of five when your seer powers started to come into light. Helion had taken you in when you were ten, helped you hone your powers. Being a seer had been a mystery, no one in your heritage (that you were aware of) was a seer. And it baffled Helion on why such a remarkable gift had been casted aside.

You had stayed with the Night Court, gaining their trust and friendship for five centuries, gaining your own little foothold in their family. You had been a pillar when Rhysand had been trapped Under the Mountain for nearly fifty years. You helped Mor and Armen with the official Night Court Duties, trained with Cassian to ensure you were strong enough to fight when neither he nor Azriel was there.

During your time protecting Valeris from the eyes of Amarantha, your mating bond with the Shadowsinger snapped. It had been difficult at the start, both of you were still struggling with the disappearance of your High Lord, along with the weight of protecting the very city he hidden from view. But during that time, you became each other’s pillar, each other’s comfort in such a dark time. Falling in love with Azriel wasn’t difficult.

But keeping his love, apparently, was the most difficult.

When the Archeron sister’s came into everyone’s lives, it caused a tip in the scales. You loved Feyre, you loved your High Lady. You would do anything in your power to ensure she was safe and well cared for. But for the Cauldron-Made sisters, it was difficult for you to accept them.

They were different. You couldn’t see anything about them, as if the Cauldron had masked them from you powers. It made you terrified of them. Feyre and Rhysand had tried to assure you that the Archeron sisters deemed no threat to the Night Court. And you trusted them — trusted your High Lord and Lady without a blink of an eye. And yes, while their words deemed true, you did not realize that they were a different type of threat. One that would eventually lose your foothold in the Night Court.

You swallowed, your throat parched as you glanced from the sight of your mate and Elain speaking to one another to Rhysand and then to Feyre who had stood next to him. She gave you a worried look, wondering what you were wanting to tell them.

The air was tense, the declaration from your High Lord seeming to echo in your surroundings — he had deemed your vision to be false. And he had never done that before.

“… But…” you whispered, your voice nothing but wind in such a large room, “… I’ve seen it so many times, Rhys. Someone is trying to resurrect him. That they need a piece of something from the Cauldron — -”

“The Cauldron is with Miryam and Drakon… in Creta. There is no way that anyone would be able to use that power again,” Rhysand’s tone was taut, as if trying to drawn a line between the truth and your vision, “Your vision must be wrong, (Y/N). There is no way that Koschei can be resurrected from that lake.”

Another swallow, “But what if it doesn’t have to be the Cauldron itself. It could be something that was Made from the Cauldron.”

Rhysand’s eyes snapped up from his desk, up to you, eyes darkening at the words you were insinuating, “—- What are you trying to say, (Y/N)?”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes shifting down to your hands, fiddling with your fingernails — a habit that you’ve had ever since you were a child — one that would leave your hands raw from removing skin, ‘… Nesta and Elain were Made from the Cauldron. If it were to get word to the followers of Koschei, they… they could be in danger. The power that resides in them is the Cauldron… Nesta took something from the Cauldron and did not return it… They could be looking for that.”

It was already bad that you were trying to suggest a return of a Death God, months after a war with Hybern, but it was worse that you were even implying that the sisters were the center of being in danger again.

A dark shadow stood in front of you and you looked up to see Azriel. The golden string that connected the two of you sung, it had been weeks since Azriel went near you, but you knew that his side of the bond was shut, enshroud by shadows, completely shutting you out.

“Az—-” you said his name, as if it was a prayer, hoping he’d be the voice of reason. That he would back up you and your visions. As he always had in the past.

“How can we know that your visions are truth, (Y/N)? There are two Seers in the Night Court now, and yet you are the only one who sees this.”

Your ears rang, a high pitch noise echoing through them as disbelief shook your body. Azriel never distrusted you, never doubted your visions and your forewarnings.

The bond in you ached, as if it was burning you on the inside. Tears lined your eyes as you looked up at your mate, brows furrowing, “…How could you, Azriel?” you muttered, the pain lining your tone, “How can you not trust me?” your voice small.

“Because Elain hasn’t seen it,” was all he had to say.

Hot tears ran your cheeks, as you shakily stepped back from the male that had towered you. You glanced at Cassian and Nesta who looked at you, their eyes inattentive to the pain that you were feeling. You glanced at your High Lord, who looked at you with disinterest. You looked at your High Lady, the only person in the room that seemed to have noticed your pain and anguish, as she took a step towards you way, only to be stopped by Rhysand, his hand around her wrist.

“… So, just because the Cauldron-Made Seer hasn’t seen it, doesn’t mean that it is going to happen?” you asked, your question in the air for everyone to think, “… Just because I wasn’t a Seer Made by the Cauldron, that my visions and my words are not real? That I am a lesser of a Seer than her?”

“(Y/N)—-” Feyre, the voice of reason, called our your name.

You took a step back again, head shaking at them, “I’ve worked my life off for the Night Court. Ensuring that your city is safe, making sure that any danger would never step past the wards that you have put up. I have never hidden anything from any of you. I used my visions and my powers for all of you. And yet…” your voice shook at the end, not believing anything that was happening in front of you, “You disregard me… the moment a better Seer shows up. One that is Cauldron-Made… one that you…” eyes shifting to Azriel, “Deems more suitable for you.

“I’ve seen it. Not only in my visions but here with you all. You have decided to all turn a blind eye to it, decided not to tell me about it. Three sisters for three brothers, isn’t it, Azriel?”

Azriel’s form stiffed in front of you — he did not think that you would have heard that.

You were done, you were tired. You were tired of the lies and the deceit from whom you thought were family.

Feyre’s brows furrowed as she looked at you and then her elder sisters before the back of Azriel. Rhysand stood up as well, standing next to his High Lady at your declaration.

“… What are you talking about, (Y/N)?” Feyre asked, watching your form shake.

“Don’t you lie to me…” you muttered, glaring at your High Lady, “Don’t you dare lie that you have not seen it. Don’t you dare tell me that you have not noticed that Azriel and Elain have been together all this time. That you have turned a blind eye that a mated male would be infatuated, would fall in love with someone else that was not his Cauldron-bound mate. Don’t you dare lie to me you have not all seen it, and have ignored it and not tell me about it.

“You also have all disregarded me and my visions, ever since Elain started to show her own powers. You have all deemed, even without you telling me, that my powers are not worthy enough. That you all would listen to her cryptic visions rather than my own.”

Your words were rushed, you were hyperventilating to the point that your visions swam, but you shook your head, focusing on the scene unfolding — Feyre’s surprised look, Nesta and Cassian staring wide-eye at Elain before glancing at the Shadowsinger in front of you and your High Lord gripping the edge of the table, his violet eyes clearing as if he was in a trance, as if his mind has been cleared and he realized what he has done and what was unfolding with his family.

“No, (Y/N), that’s not what we meant…” he tried to reason, try to gain back your trust in the found family you had with them.

You scrunched your face, shaking your head as you looked at your High Lord before back at your mate, “…That’s what you have meant for the months you have been ignoring my forewarnings. Been ignoring me. Because Elain’s powers are better than mine, you have casted me aside…” Another step back, glancing at the grand door behind you before you glanced back at the family who had lost you, to the mate that had broken your entire being, “You had decided, to your own conscious, to fall in love with someone else, who is bound to someone else, just because you deemed that the Cauldron was wrong. I don’t understand what I have done to you, Azriel… when I have spent nearly five-hundred years with you, fifty years with you as your mate. And you, knowing Elain for a mere five minutes, throwing all that away…”

Azriel looked at you, his chest rising and falling quickly, his eyes staring you down. He watched as tears continued to flood down your cheeks, your form shaking even further. You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t just stand here and be the object that they throw away.

So, you ran, ran out of that room, your name echoing behind you as your dress swirled behind you. You climbed up the spiraling stairs to your shared room with Azriel, throwing up the strongest ward you can muster behind you and around you. You couldn’t handle it.

You couldn’t handle the echo of the bond in your chest, you couldn’t handle the empty stare of your mated looking at you. You couldn’t handle the thought that you were so easily replaceable. A sob escaped your lips as you rummaged through Azriel’s drawer of weapons, pulling out the one weapon that he never is without — Truth-Teller. Dark tendrils of shadow gripped your wrist as you looked around you, Azriel’s shadows surrounding you.

That was where his shadows went — they had always disappeared when he was around Elain, yet they were here with you.

Frantic knocks startled you as you grasped the weapon close to your chest, your head whipping around towards the door. You heard them — Feyre’s panicked voice, Rhysand’s apologizes, Cassian yelling your name. But you didn’t hear that one voice that you had loved — you knew Azriel wasn’t there.

That had pushed you. Gripping the weapon, you moved to the bathroom, the shadows following your every movement. As you kneeled down on the marble floor, you felt the tug of the shadows against your hand, trying to will the weapon out of your grip — attempting you to stop at a take of your life.

You had always loved the shadows that surrounded Azriel, both physically and metaphorically speaking. They had always comforted you, protected you, always had been there for both of you when times were tough. But this was one of the times that you didn’t want them protecting you, comforting you.

“Please..” you begged at them. Whether or not they would listen or sprint off to their master, they backed off, though a few tendrils stayed behind, slithering around your wrist, holding Truth-Teller, as if a reminder not to do it. But you had made your mind — you couldn’t stay and be pushed to the side. Not anymore.

And with a last breath impaled yourself with your mate’s beloved knife, the very knife he had handed Elain during the war, was the last thing you remembered. As your body fell against the marbled floor, your soul leaving your body, you felt the tendrils of shadow frantically skim over your body, as if to try to find a piece of life still clinging onto you. Eyes looked and watched as the ward was broken and your High Lord and Lady skidding towards your body as your soul left for the skies above, the cool feeling of shadow never leaving your body.

A gasp escaped your lips, the dull ache on your chest making you rub at it.

“— - What…” you mumbled, your voice hoarse as if not used for a century.

“That Shadowsinger did not know what he had decided to let go, huh…” A voice, one so dark and so familiar echoing.

You knew that voice, that voice that haunted you in your visions for weeks — the same voice that you tried to warn your family about. Eyes opening, you were surrounded by the dark, the voice of the Death-God echoing around you.

“I should have died…” you voiced to no-one.

A laugh echoed around you, “You did, (Y/N), but you forget that I am a Death-God… And I can resurrect anyone I wish. Now, that your family has abandoned you, why don’t you join me. Show them what happens when a Seer of your capacity has been cast aside. I should have had you when that original family of yours stranded you, but that damn High Lord of Day found you first. Anyway… come child…”

You laid there, in the darkness, before you shakily reach out a hand, before spiny fingers grasped onto yours and pulled you out of that darkness.

[theveryworstthing]

"Welcome! I'm glad to see that we still have people interested in volunteering. We have 6 positions open this Riverseason, 3 at each of the base camps. After you fill out your paperwork I'll take you to meet the new Companions and we'll see who you connect with!"

every few years after a heavy rainy season the river swells and a lush, high, patch of forest grows around its fattened middle in a matter of days. during this time strange Creatures emerge to nest in the surrounding area, which is seemingly a safer place to rear young than the forest, and then migrate back when the river begins to lower in a few months. neither the creatures nor the Townsfolk know why the forest appears or what exactly is going on with the river but they learned long ago to (mostly) live in peace. 

while the forest makes most people uneasy, some are very eager (maybe too eager) to explore it. this includes some young Creatures who seem equally compelled to Enter. experience says that mixed teams have a better chance or survival (little guy with Powers + person with thumbs and camping supplies is a pretty good combo even if communication can be rough sometimes) and so that is how the scouting trips operate. scouts start at either upriver or downriver base camps just outside the forest and try to follow the river the entire way to avoid getting lost.

it is so easy to get lost.

most people lose sight of the other scouting teams about half a mile in even though they're all following the same river and going in the same direction. best case scenario is that you make new discoveries, map out a few things, and make it out the other side in way more time than it should really take to walk to the other side. worst case is you can't find your way out before the river starts to dry up and you hope the rain is heavy next year. 

pictured above are the little Companions ready to hike in with someone this season. you will only learn their names if you connect with one, but in loose power typing terms we've got:

a prophesy type (omens good and bad. tea leaves, smoke, tiny bones)

a wander type (never settled and never has to be. a shifter of sorts)

a fungal type (more than it seems. eager for friendship)

a celestial type (looking into the void. navigating by starlight)

a dirt type (grounded and persistent. a terror to terrors)

and a sylph type (the air in your lungs. the invisible belief)

which Companion will you choose? what name comes to you when they choose you back? 

[spotforme]

ALL THINGS HOLY HAVE COME TOGETHER! !

Does this mean anything to you. You beasts