#all thinking he’s an angel or something because of it

[fullflowerking]

A. dumah

B. I don't remember my wings that well, but definitely closer to a lighter shade. Perhaps bronze or sandy brown

C. I was a lower ranking angel, tasked with observing humanity. Not intervening

D. See above

E. I didn't fall, I reincarnated to earth as a human being and I still consider my species to be an angel

F. I remember being in a beautiful garden at some point. My mind felt light and airy, and I "felt" things around me with spatial awareness instead of objectively viewing it. If you asked me to describe a single plant or creature in this garden I wouldn't be able to.

G. I resonate with the element fire because I was born in December. My dad was sick with cancer when I was born, and they told him he might not live. After I was born, he got better. I always attach this to the transformative power of fire, and my angelic abilities are still attached to me in utero.

H. I'm a biblical angel, so I guess more likely the Christian god. I don't remember him though, just a faint memory of Him being present.

I. I feel I became confined to earth after observing humans for so long. I think at some point I wanted to be involved more than I was, so I decided to join.

K. The advantage of being an angel on earth really depends on your definition of an advantage. My definition is having more freedom, being able to touch, see and experience the world like a proper mammal rather than like a divine being. You miss out on a lot when you lack the 5 senses.

L. A disadvantage. There are many. When you're an angel, you don't get tired, you don't need to go to the bathroom, you don't need to eat. Suddenly all these things that make you human become an exhausting task that you have to be involved in, all the time. There are more, but I want to keep this short.

M. I was around during the holy war. The crusade before crusades. I remember a few angels starting to feel less angelic over time, and it was like a ripple effect amongst the loyal. Suddenly, the side I was on with my brother Michael felt less and less like the winning side, and more like the side you pick when there's no better option. I desired the same freedoms as the other side but I suppose I was too cowardly to take it.

N. No one around me knows my identity. I feel like it's unnecessary to tell anyone. I can never go back to what I was. The best thing I can do is live my life as heavenly as I can in my current life.

O. Funnily enough, I started suspecting i was something more at a very young age. I didn't know quite what. I remember having mental shifts in the church growing up, and having visions about winged creatures when I was around 10. I discovered angels outside of the Bible and for the first time I felt like these things were the best thing I could use to describe myself.

P. Lol. I was hoping this question would come up. O fortuna is at the top of my list. It always gives me chills. Any songs in Latin or slavic-based languages always makes me go into mental shifts.

Q. To feel angelic, I watch movies with angels in them, read books with angels in them, exercise and ride my bike to just feel the wind against my face. I go to the park with a long black coat on and listen to music, and just watch people. Sometimes I talk to them, but not often because I can be quite introverted.

R. See above. I also veil on occasion, especially when I'm around religious buildings or graveyards or when meditating. (I do not pray to the Christian god)

S. I'm not repelled by religious buildings. I'm also not attracted to them. But when I step inside a place that has been cleansed, anointed or used for worship, I can get mental shifts and my vibration raises to the point that I believe that religious figures and children can feel.

T. Good question. Unfortunately I don't know what my halo looked like. I'm assuming it was closer to light than a physical object, maybe light that my divinity gave off. Like a rainbow spectrum or pure white. 🤷‍♀️ no clue.

U. If I did, I don't remember.

V. Not prophetic dreams, but I've had vivid dreams and nightmares about snakes, naked human beings, violence, starvation and fire. I have had many dreams of what I believe to be pre-flood events on earth, where animosity & disbelief became more rampant between Him and humans.

W. Nope

X. Anywhere that has a beautiful garden. I also like fountains, aquariums, the forest and jungle

Y. Nope

X. I remember being in Europe at some point. I don't know exactly where, I just remember hearing some francophone language being spoken, and there was a lot of political unrest. Unfortunately, the details were never that important to anyone, and as I've mentioned before, I didn't see things the same way as an angel as I do now. My best guess would be middle ages or less. They seemed to be very complicated with the Catholic church back then.

I hope you enjoyed my answers as much as i enjoyed answering them

Angelic Ask Meme

I’ve been meaning to make one of these for a while…send some to my ask, and feel free to reblog!

A-what is your angelic name? B-what did your wings look like? C-what are you an angel of? D-what order or rank of angel are you? E-did you fall? If so, why? F-describe a random angelic memory G-what element/s do you align with? H-do you remember or follow any gods? I-do you know or suspect why you are earthbound? J-what other angels were you close to? K-an advantage to being an angel on earth? L-a disadvantage to being an angel on earth? M-were you around during the war? If so, what side were you on? N-does anyone irl know you’re an angel? O-how long have you known you’re Angelic? P-what is a song that reminds you of being angelic, or of an angelic memory? Q-what is something you do to feel angelic? R-have anything you wear that makes you feel like your angelic self? S-are you attracted to places of worship, or repelled by them? T-what did your halo look like? U-any angels you had a rivalry with? V-ever have any prophetic dreams, or things like that? W-are you an empath/psychic/medium/etc? X-any places on earth that remind you of home? Y-ever had irl contact with other divines in this life? Z-have any past earthbound life memories?

[devildomwriter]

THINGS THAT WENT UNANSWERED AND MY THEORIES

Why is Diavolo’s dad asleep? Where is he?

• In the game he went into a deep slumber in the bottom layer of the Devildom shortly after the brothers arrived

• I believe this slumber has something to do with age, state of mind, but most importantly the brothers and their extreme power. It brought immediately destabilization of power between the realms and I believe he may have granted his powers between the brothers when he named them—thus enhancing their sins (he split them between the brothers) as a demon without serious power or sin he may be resting to restore this energy over time or to stop the power imbalance that could threaten a war with the Celestial Realm.

What was the event that made Diavolo wish for peace between the three realms?

• In season one Diavolo tells MC that long ago something made him realize that there should be peace between the three worlds. MC supporting Diavolo in the past isn’t an answer as Diavolo already had this idea before meeting them and even before meeting Lucifer.

• I believe that one of the many wars between the Devildom and Celestial Realm happened within Diavolo’s life. The horrors of war are not exclusive to humans, a young idealistic demon like Diavolo would be traumatized into ensuring nothing like this happens in the future. It is mentioned in game that it was his father who first asked for a truce between the Celestial Realm and Devildom but it’s likely Diavolo was still alive in this time period and a war could have happened before all of this.

Will Simeon become an angel again?

• In the final lesson of Nightbringer Simeon is invited back to the Celestial Realm despite previously not having even been allowed back as a guest. They want to discuss his future and Lucifer advises Simeon to have a productive talk. Raphael also mentioned in OG season four that Simeon despite being human was much better at his “job” than he used to be.

• I believe Simeon is certainly becoming an angel again. He might be lowest rank like Luke until he discovers who he is as an angel again or he may be sent back to the ranks of Archangel. I hope he stays lowest rank for a while so he can prove his worth beyond such low ranks and will no longer be stressed by busywork. I believe Raphael will also protect him more from higher ups. I think the good example Simeon set for Raphael and Luke will reflect kindly on his future and whether he can become a seraph again considering who they became under his guidance.

What is Luke’s future as an angel?

• In the game, Michael specifically took Luke under his wing because he recognized his power. Even as a child Luke was allowed to work in the Celestial Palace. Luke came into being shortly before Lucifer and his brothers fell and idolized Lucifer once. Michael sent Luke to the Devildom to learn not to be so judgmental and to face the real world. While on exchange Michael notes Luke would be a good principality while Mammon thinks he could be a seraph.

Lucifer also believes Luke has a good future ahead of him as only Luke, Lucifer, MC, Solomon, and Diavolo noticed when Simeon was no longer demonic, not even the other six rulers of hell.

• I firmly believe that Luke will become a seraph. His latent power and guidance from Simeon, Raphael, Michael, Barbatos, and Lucifer leaves him as very open minded but firm in his convictions and morality. The timing of his birth being right before Lucifer fell leads me to believe he was created as a replacement for Lucifer and that he will take Lucifer’s place one day to lead the Celestial Realm alongside Michael.

Will Michael join the exchange program?

• In the game Michael hinted to Raphael that he wanted to and Diavolo also wondered if Michael might join one day. The others seem to believe it would be too much a hassle.

• I think Michael is the kind of person who would but wouldn’t do so normally. Maybe a very short exchange so he doesn’t stay away from the Celestial Realm for long. I also believe his presence would cause unrest in the Devildom which he may view as hostile towards the Celestial Realm. This is a great plot point I would have loved to see, especially with Barbatos and Solomon both worrying about war in the future as well as MC’s alliances.

Will there be another war between the realms?

• In Nightbringer it was hinted that things were getting more tense as more demons were trying to disrupt the exchange program and bring harm to the students. It’s also revealed that to have sent Lucifer to Cocytus the celestial realm also had to agree meaning there are also angels who strongly oppose the three worlds as coming together as both sides hold resentment for past wars and see the others as unable to change for the better.

• I believe that in the future there will almost be a war, but Diavolo will be able to prove how strong their bonds can be with MC as a prime example. MC has a connection to each realm, granting them a power so strong they need the ring to contain it which Simeon gave them and Michael allowed. The brothers and angels and others have consistently saved each other’s lives, seen past former beliefs and even a demon like Mephisto and an angel like Raphael, two people extremely loyal to their realms were able to become good friends. I believe Diavolo would use a memory ring or other power to display the greatest most significant moments between them as proof his dream can become reality or at the very least they can remain at peace.

Who is Nightbringer?

• The game more or less confirms it to be Barbatos with the teaser for the game as well as how Nightbringer and his abilities are described. Nightbringer also speaks to Solomon with the same annoyance as Barbatos.

• I firmly believe that Nightbringer is Barbatos. Barbatos brought MC to the past, disrupting the timelines and I believe this is why Diavolo asks Barbatos to never use these powers without his permission.

What happened to Solomon’s childhood friend?

• The game indirectly tells us what happens over several seasons. Solomon is said to have e summoned Barbatos at the risk of his own life as a child desperately seeking to use Barbatos’s power of time. At the time he was not the kind of person obsessed with knowledge and power but was granted power seen as cursed that led him to be hidden in a basement away from everyone but this one friend.

• I believe his friend died whether it was his powers at fault or not and he summoned Barbatos to revive his friend. It’s possible his friend died of natural causes and this is why Solomon wants to better the human world despite it turning his back on him; it’s all so children and humans in general don’t die of preventable things like his friend did.

What did the Little D.s mean when they said they’d take over the Devildom?

• In season two of Nightbringer the Little D,s laugh about taking over the castle and soon the whole Devildom.

• I think they believe they can overcome their counterparts, or at least they used to, and wanted all the power for themselves. I think after thousands of years they gave up on this idea.

Who in the Devildom betrayed Diavolo and had Lucifer sent to Cocytus? And who in the Celestial Realm agreed?

• In the game Diavolo was never able to find the results but in the modern timeline the House of Lords remains a hinderance to Diavolo’s ideas of peace between realms despite the successes he has had thus far. When Raphael asked around in the Celestial Realm he never got an answer despite being a seraph and it’s hinted that they probably know who it is among the higher ups but won’t share that information.

• I believe someone in the Celestial Realm reached out to demons they knew opposed Lucifer and not the other way around. The Celestial Realm is always in the Devildom’s business so must have known about the unrest and helped arrange Lucifer’s imprisonment in Cocytus, then sent an angel closest to him, Raphael, to read his charges as punishment to Lucifer (seeing how it affected his friends) and punishment to Raphael (for still having such a close bond with a traitor.)

Why is Barbatos forbidden from using his powers?

• In the game Barbatos is mentioned to not be able to use his powers without Diavolo’s permission on several occasions. No specific reason is given.

• I believe that when Barbatos (as Nightbringer) brought MC to the past, Diavolo at some point found out he’d caused a destabilization of their reality (but not exactly what it was he did) and ordered him not to use his powers.

Will the others ever find out about the time travel?

• In the final season Solomon tells MC that eventually they won’t be able to play off the brothers’ memories of MC in the past anymore. Barbatos is already aware of the time travel.

• I believe it will come out at some point for sure. They will remember more or come across concrete proof MC was actually there with them.

Why did Nightbringer take MC to the past?

• In the game the denkn claims it’s because it is where MC will find happiness.

• I believe that Nightbringer (Barbatos) lived in a reality much darker and bleaker than ours. I believe the brothers trapped in Cocytus triggered some kind of war or prevented Diavolo from fulfilling his dream so he used his abilities to find a way to correct it.

He sent you into the past before you became an exchange student with visions of the future he saw would happen if he brought you there to help the brothers.

Eventually you were selected as an exchange in the future, fulfilling the visions Barbatos foresaw. This part is tricky to understand but by Barbatos describes time as a thick heavy mud or soup and I believe he sees time running concurrently so even though your future hadn’t yet happened, somebody from that future was able to come help you in the past, Solomon.

It’s hard to explain but time sort of did a loop, MC of the OG was sent into the past to create the future they live in. This means at some point MC was in a very different future and knew a different and worse version of the brothers but their memories of them altered into the happy ones they would make as they changed the past—changing the future into a good one. I don’t have the IQ to explain beyond that, I tried and got lost.

Let me know if you have more questions

[joeyfranchise]

𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕥𝕖𝕟

last christmas, i gave you my heart

ex!joe x fem!reader

note: (& kinda summary) SURPRISE! i said cindy lou didn’t have a part two but…. how could i spoil it for you? here’s what happened after the instagram dm, from joe’s perspective.

word count: 1.3k.

warnings: more sadness, hurt feelings, joe isn’t really an ass but he has poor decision making skills… etc. this fic is sfw but minors please do not interact with my page.

song inspo: cindy lou who by sabrina carpenter and lips of an angel by hinder.

joe didn’t really care about likes or comments on instagram.

he didn’t care to post too much either, regardless of what it was, because he preferred staying private and in his own lane. sure, he posted brand deals on there, the occasional game day fit or victory post, but he wasn’t one to flaunt a relationship around… not until today.

the christmas eve festivities were in full swing, and joe and his new girlfriend, along with his parents, were spending the evening together. they’d been to dinner, stopped by a few local places and eventually ended up at a rec center to watch a local christmas play.

when it was over they decided to take photos out in the hall, where the archway was decorated to the nines and the lighting was absolutely perfect for those warm, christmas-y shots.

joe and his girlfriend posed together alone, and then with his parents, and then they each took photos alone. once the photos were sent to him, he vetted through them carefully, selecting which ones he should post.

in his mind, he knew what he was doing was wrong… but in his heart, he wanted to know if you still cared. he wondered what you were up to this christmas. he assumed home with your family, maybe out with your sister. that’s something he knew you’d missed doing since you’d spent the last few christmases with him. he hoped you were able to go with her, that your holiday still felt special.

it didn’t. he didn’t know you didn’t go home to your family, that you were sat on your couch ready to drown in your wine glass and cry over a heart-breaking christmas movie. he didn’t know you were all alone there with him on your mind.

but in a sick, sick way… he also hoped that you were thinking of him, too.

joe posted the photos to his instagram with no caption, but he made sure to tag his girl. he slid his phone into his back pocket before joining back in the conversation she was having with his parents. his mind lingered on you.

joe wasn’t a cheater - nor would he ever be. he really enjoyed having his new girl around, and he didn’t know if he was in love yet, but he knew she felt like she could be right for him.

he sat with his thoughts for another hour before he checked his phone again. in the time since he posted the photos he laughed and talked with his company, holding his girlfriend’s hand and smoothing his thumb over her palm soothingly.

when he slid his phone from his back pocket and opened instagram, he had a multitude of notifications. family, fans friends.

but he looked at the likes anyway. it was wrong of him, toxic of him to hope you’d seen it… but you had. and you liked it. his chest began to feel tight.

why did he do that to you?

when you and joe broke up, it was all him. he knew it, you knew it. you were still completely in love with him. it made him physically sick to think about.

joe’s issue was… he still loved you too.

around the time of your break-up, things were incredibly tense. he was injured, he was in the roughest mental place he’d ever been in, and despite your valiant efforts to help him work through it, all he ever did was push you away. he continued to treat you poorly out of anger, and out of love you stuck by him.

he should have thanked you for that.

joe didn’t think he was falling out of love with you per se, but he wanted a break. he wanted space to find himself again, and though it completely broke you, you agreed. you would never force yourself into his life, not if he didn’t want you there.

he knew you thought you were the problem, and no matter how much he tried to explain you weren’t, you didn’t listen. he knew his actions weren’t conveying that he loved you, and that’s what forced the wedge between you… so when you split, there was never a reconciliation.

joe never reached out to you because he was afraid you’d reject him after all the pain he put you through. you didn’t reach out to him because you were convinced he was done with you, that he didn’t love you anymore.

when he met his new girl he was in a better place, and she was sweet. she was kind, beautiful, she had a heart of gold. she took his breath away, he hadn’t felt that in a while.

they started seeing each other casually before diving in head first, and he knew she loved him. he was getting there. but he still needed to let you go. the air in the room was getting hot, and although it felt like he’d been on his phone for an eternity, it was just a few minutes.

the hallway was full now, people who were in the play and family friends gathered around. his parents were chatting with the neighbors, his girlfriend was talking to one of the stars of the play. he looked around his periphery to make sure nobody could see him click your profile, and quickly he tapped your message button and typed something out.

joeyb_9: merry christmas, y/n.

he pressed send. his heart was hammering against his chest. his parents and his girl didn’t seem to notice. he didn’t expect you to answer so quickly. his breathing felt shaky as he saw you typing.

y/n: merry christmas, joe. i’m so happy for you.

the room began to spin. joe was getting hot. why why why. why did he do this?

he made a quick impulsive decision, against his better judgement. the voice in his head told him to stop, don’t do this. but his heart had to know. he excused himself quickly, claiming he had to make a work call.

he stepped outside of the rec center, the cool december air felt hot on his newly flushed skin. he closed the instagram app, clicking on the phone app and dialing your number. ring ring ring.

you answered.

“um… joe?” you asked. your voice sounded groggy, like you’d just fallen asleep.

“fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i called.” he admitted. he ran his hand over his face.

“are you— is everything okay?”

“it’s fine. i’m… fuck. i’m sorry. i hope you’re having a good holiday. i guess it just feels weird not to be with you.” he doesn’t know why he’s telling you this. in the building behind him, his girlfriend is laughing with his parents. she’s having a lovely holiday. and joe’s outside, on the phone with his ex.

“it is weird. but it seemed like you were having a good night based on your post. go back to whatever you were doing, please. i can’t do this.” he heard your voice crack. he imagined your face. he knew your hand was probably clamped over your mouth, he heard you start to cry.

“fuck, y/n. i’m so sorry.” he says. he feels like he’s going to cry too.

“don’t be upset for me, joey. you’ve got a beautiful girl in there. i saw the love in your eyes in those photos. don’t fumble this one, okay 9?” you told him through tears. hearing you call him that felt like a slap right across the cheek. he missed what you used to have.

he felt sickly. he knew he was probably as white as a ghost. you were right… but he needed the closure.

“thank you, y/n. i hope you’re doing well… and uh, it was good to hear your voice.” he said, scratching at the back of his head lightly.

“yours too, joe.” you said, and then you hung up. he heard the door to the rec center open and turned around, coming face to face with his girlfriend.

“you alright?” she asked, coming down the short steps to caress his cheek. “i’m okay.” he said. he put on a smile and let her link their arms before he walked back inside with her, leaving the last of his feelings for you outside in the freezing winter air. he was thankful that you let him go, and now he could finally let you go too.

all photos and dividers used are not mine. cred to owners.

taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @joeyburrrow @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @definitelynotdomanique @samanthamark5 @superstarshitblog @fa1ry03 @wickedfun9 @xbriexx @venic-bxtch @burrowdarling @angels555 @idbe-theman @yelenasbraid @ladyluvduv @joeburrowshaircurl @joeybisbootiful @livinobx @blairsworld22 @jarring-behavior @yomamaslays4lyfe @gazebotori

[burrowkit]

I stare up at the indestructible being. Finding his summoning spell was relatively easy. Stupid easy, really, when you think about it. And yet, somehow it was surprising.

A being that lives for eons.

He looks around the space. A tiny living room in my tiny apartment. "Let me guess, you want riches beyond your imagination?" He drawls, looking dissatisfied with the request. "At least that's easy. Most demand murders and riches. A thousand tasks, to set me free."

I keep silent. I know he's looking at my falling apart couch, which is easily older than I am. Maybe even twice as old as me. It's a pullout couch, something that weighs a ton but is still functional.

I've drawn the star with my couch in the middle. Not that I wanted to sacrifice it, but it really was the only place it fit. I glance against the nearby wall. A twin bed.

Because all I can afford is this tiny, bachelor apartment.

The cupboard doors are falling off... if they're even there. The closet door sits in the closet, having equally fallen off.

Some of the windows are boarded up.

"Well...?" The being pushes, staring down at me.

I carefully examine him. The more time he spends here, the more time he shifts his appearance. His hair takes on a yellower blonde than its original platinum. As if all colour had once been leeched from it.

His eyes glow with the brightest blues, as if he once belonged to the skies, fell, and the only memory being of the sky in his eyes.

I reach for a strand of my hair that fell onto my cheek. My platinum blonde hair. I tuck it behind my ear.

It shocked the nurses on my birth that I was born with the same sky blue eyes. Eyes that almost appear unnatural.

My mom has dark hair with a few golden highlights. Her eyes are a deep brown, with a few sparks of red and gold in them. As if he were a treasure. Or at least, that's what my dad supposedly said about them.

"I want you to teach me," I inform him, shifting my weight between my feet, unsure how to explain this.

"Teach you? Teach you what?" The demon prods, as if he needed more direction.

Re-thinking the words, he probably did.

For a being that's visited this world frequently, even without a summoning spell, I was still surprised to find four copies of his summoning spell. One at the local archives. One at the pawn shop. One in my mom's belongings.

The last, on my father's gravestone.

"My mom, she died of cancer," I try to explain. I thought I had practised this speech. Nothing compares to what I actually expected of him.

"And you want her brought to life, hm? That'll cost you extra," he informs me.

No. As much as I'd like my mom back, I know she'd hate being dragged back to her mortal shell.

Still, how hard is it? How hard can it be?

"We need to talk," I inform the demon.

"So. Talk," he spits at me.

I can tell he's becoming furious with me.

You're my father.

I can't seem to get the words out. Instead, I head over to my small desk, on the opposite wall of my bed, scooping up the letter and returning to the edges of the circle. I hold it out to the demon, and he swipes it.

He stares at the paper, and for a moment, I'm unsure of what he'll say. What he'll do.

And maybe that's why I decided to trap him in a spell instead of allowing him to roam free. At least here, he won't be able to escape and avoid his parental obligations.

"Who's your mom?"

I freeze at his words, forcing myself to look into his eyes. His eyes, which are now the exact hue mine are. I flinch, nervous. I look towards the photo at the head of my bed, and he follows.

There, a single photo lies of my mother on my first day of school.

"My Angel," he whispers, looking back at me. "You must be Charlotte."

I nod my head, staring up at him. He shifts again, his height shortening. Closer to my own height. Maybe so he can look me in the eyes easier. "I go by Char," I offer out a hand.

He takes it tentatively, shaking my hand. "Josh."

"I know," I smile at him. "My mom told me all about you."

He nods, looking around the space, releasing my hand. "So, I'm guessing you want to learn about who you are, what abilities you may have inherited, how long you'll live, right?" He inquires, moving around the circle.

"Something like that," I mutter, grabbing a seat on the edge of my bed. "I'd also like to know what mom was."

His head snaps to look at me, looking a tad surprised. "She never told you?"

I shake my head. "She left me a box that told me how to contact you. Then, I confirmed it by finding more copies..." I trail off, nodding to the other papers on my desk. "You're ridiculously easy to call."

He snorts in response. "That's cause most humans covet the best of things."

Implying he's one of the better demons to summon. I have to wonder if it's because he behaves well, or because he works well with others.

On some bizarre instinct, I snap the circle, releasing him from the requirements of the spell. It was an additional step in my mom's copies. In fact, some of the other ones have other additions. I opted to trust the one on my father's grave and in my mother's notes.

He grabs my chair by my desk, pulling it over to the bed. He sighs, taking a seat. "I never did find out what your mother was. Not an angel, but she was my angel," he offers. I'm not entirely sure what he means, but I get the sense that he truly did love her. As much as a demon can, you know. "Which would make you half of her and half a demon," he continues to explain. "Your life will likely be long living. Assuming you can refrain from playing with those dark spells."

He pauses, watching me carefully.

Dark spells.

Yes, my mother's box contained a grimoire containing all sorts of spells. Any time I tried to look at the worst of them, the book would rearrange the papers, preventing me from looking.

I already know why.

My mother, in her attempt to help conceal my nature, used dark magic. It's what truly gave her her cancer.

There are some dark spells I could play with, ones that leave no mark. Ones that would play on my demonic nature. And yet... I have to question why anyone would ever play with the other spells. Even the pages seem to be marked with a general feeling of oil and grease.

"As for your powers..." he trails off again. He whips his hand down, and suddenly a book appears. "This would be a good starting guide."

I take the book tentatively, flipping through the first couple of pages. It provides yet another summoning spell for my father. One that, like my mother's, calls upon Josh directly. But this one has no summoning circle. In fact, it's awfully similar to using a cell phone and calling him.

I flip to another page, describing the beginning guide of my physiology. There's a section on my father's powers. And another section dedicated to the abilities his known offspring have.

Known offspring.

Which likely means I'm not the first, nor the last of his children.

When I look up, about to ask him another question, I know he's already gone.

In fact, on my kitchen counter, I notice a small pile of coins. My couch, which is still in essence, the same, has been fully repaired. My falling apart home is now repaired to its former glory.

I flip to the last page of the book. There, an inscription lies.

If I had known you were on your own earlier, I would have stopped by. No child of mine should ever want for anything. Call if you ever need help, although do try to keep it interesting. There's only so many times I can rip the intestines out of a human before that gets dull.

Oh, and to answer your likely unasked question... there is a spell within this book that'll point you to your siblings. Be warned, they are older. But they all have one human parent. I stripped your mother's spells of protection from you. This will allow you access to your full ability.

PS- Although you never lived in luxury, it was due to your mother choosing to invest all of the child support to your education and future. You should have access to it all soon. I have attached one of my favourite photos of you. I'm sorry it's just a copy, not the original. I still need it.

Love, Josh

I look just below the note, and discover a photo. One that was taken by a stranger.

It was on my birthday. Mom and I decided to travel to Peggy's Cove in Nova Scotia. I smile at the memory, at the kindness of a stranger willing to take a photo of us standing next to the lighthouse.

I flip the photo around, and discover a second one behind it. One of the stranger taking a selfie with the camera, and us.

My dad.

Even though his appearance is different, now that I know him, I know it's him.

My father.

I wonder if he's kept a close eye on my through my life? I wonder, setting the book carefully onto my bed and heading for the kitchen.

There, along with the money, is a photo album. I flip it open and discover photos of my mom and I.

Primarily, photos of us on vacation. And, each one is accompanies with a 'selfie' of a stranger. A different one each time, but even through the photo, I know it's him.

I smile, remembering we had to stop taking vacations when I was still so young.

Or, if we did, we'd take them in secret.

But, I find photos of him with my mother. Her business trips, supposedly.

Which implies that, although he couldn't physically check in on me, he still sought out my mom. And, she clearly kept him up to date.

A single tear drop touches the photo album. Then, with some protection magic, it sizzles and disappears, leaving the book in its flawless condition.

"I love it, dad." I give a sad smile, wondering if I'll ever be able to have a close relationship with him.

I head towards my bathroom, and there, I find a variety of objects. Soaps, shampoos, cleaning supplies.

The weirdest part? The cleaning supplies seem to be working themselves on my bathroom. The most expensive products I couldn't afford for the last few months. They're scrubbing at the mold I was sure I'd never get out.

"Thanks, dad," I smile sadly at it.

The products multiply, quickly opting to clean the rest of my apartment, now that their presence is known.

I laugh. If this is some sort of spell to keep my apartment in tip top shape, I could get used to it. Although...

I look over at the money.

It's enough that I could upgrade. Still, although this was one of the few apartments I could afford myself, I did partially choose it because of its location.

I pick up the album once more and curl up on my bed, closing my eyes. Maybe, just maybe, I can make the best of my life.

I flip to the first page of the book.

Chapter 1. How to contact Josh in an emergency.

The demon collapsed onto your bed. A vacant stare in his eye as he uttered “this is the 10,000th time I’ve been summoned. can we make it easy? Please?”

[arc-misadventures]

The Beasts Consort

Jaune slowly shut the door behind him, taking in the features of his new dorm room. It was nice; there was a closet, a nice desk to do his studies, a window with a hell of a view, a bathroom, and a nice big double sized bed. How nice!

Thought, Jaune as he fell back onto the bed, his hands cupping his face as he groaned in exasperation.

Jaune: That was horrible!

: Well, I think that went pretty well~!

Jaune: Pretty well? Pretty well?!

Jaune opened his hands as he shouted seeing, Salem's elegant, angelic face mere inches from his face. Normally someone would be surprised that someone face suddenly appeared so close to theirs, but Jaune had grown accustomed to, Salem doing this to him so she didn't scare him.

That often that is...

Jaune: I was so nervous about showing you to everyone, and I thought: 'Sure she's deity, but it won't be that bad. I bet everyone has really strong, Spiritual Beasts. It won't matter at all, people won't bat an eye at all when they see her.

Jaune: But, then you showed yourself, and everyone started losing their freaking minds?!

Salem: Well that's not my fault...

Salem moved away from, Jaune as floated she in the air, adopting a posture that looked as if she was posing for a portrait on a fainting couch.

Salem: Those fools thought they were all on top of the mountain, that they were among pinnacle, the cream of the wheat when it comes to being, Spiritual Beast Masters. All because they thought they had some of the strongest, and most powerful, Spiritual Beasts one can master. But, in reality...

Salem turned to stare at her lover with a wide toothy smile showing off her fanged teeth as she game him a most sinister smile.

Salem: They've barely reached the peak of the hill~!

Jaune: Hey! Salem, what did I say about you doing your sinister smile, thingy?

Salem: To not do it...

Jaune: Yes. Because it ruins your beautiful face!

Salem: Ohhh~!

Salem hovered over to, Jaune an cupped her lovers cheeks and squished them together.

Salem: Oh, aren't you such a charmer! I'm so glad you summoned me.

Jaune: Well I'm glad you chose me.

Jaune cupped, Salem's cheek in his hand, she gently rubbed her cheeks with his thumb, this action of affection caused her to melt into his embrace. Jaune held her like this for a moment before he stood up, and made his way to the door.

Jaune: Okay... I'm hungry, let's go grab something to eat.

Salem: You know I don't need to eat.

Jaune: Then why do you keep stealing my food?

Salem: Because it's fun~!

Jaune groaned in despair as he moved towards the cafeteria. Salem floating through the air behind him. Jaune saw people move out of his way, staring at him, and whispering to him as he walked by them, Jaune's head fell as another groan of complete despair left his lips.

Jaune: Great... I'm the talk of the town now...

Salem: What's wrong with that, didn't you always want to be popular?

Jaune: Yes, but I'm not the reason I'm 'popular,' you are.

Salem: Well that's not fair, I am a Goddess after all. I've been 'popular' for eons!

Jaune: Yes, but since when have you actually been partnered with a, Spiritual Master?

Salem: Uhh...?

Salem crossed her legs with her head in her head deep in concertation. Jaune watched her slowly spin, and float in the air, deeply lost in thought.

Jaune: ...

Jaune: I was just saying that as an example, have you ever formed a contract with a, Spiritual Master before?!

Salem: Nope!

Salem cocked her head to the side, and stuck out her tongue as she tapped her head., Jaune dropped his face in his hands as he groaned in exasperation again.

Jaune: Don't you act cute with me! The fact I have a contract with a, Spiritual Deity, Is one thing all on it's own! But, everyone will also think I'm crazy, because it appears that I'm not talking to anyone!

Jaune shouted this for all to hear, before his head sharply turned to a couple of students who were watching him. And, he pointed in the air at, Salem.

Jaune: I'm talking to my, Spiritual Beast, she's right there!

Jaune looked over to his side, and notice something important: Salem wasn't there anymore.

Jaune: Oi?! Where did you go?

~~~

Jaune then grabbed a hearty meal full of chicken nuggets, mixed vegetables, and some fries. He took a seat at one of the empty tables, looking around to see everyone staring at him.

Jaune: ...

Jaune: (Sigh)

Jaune: If it wasn't for the law about, Spiritual Masters needing to be trained, I would have stayed home...

Jaune dejectedly picked a chicken nugget, and dipped it in some honey mustard sauce.

Jaune: There goes my chance to make friends I guess...

: Hi!

Jaune was about to place his food into his mouth, but stopped when he saw a girl with black hair with red fringes wave at him.

Jaune: Uhh... Hi. Uhh... Ruby...? Ruby Rose right?

Ruby: Yep! That's me! And, You're, Jaune Arc!

Jaune: Yeah, that's me. Can I help you?

Ruby: I just wanted to talk with you; mind if I join you?

Jaune: Uhh... sure?

Ruby: Thank you!

Jaune gestured to the open seat in front of him, as, Ruby happily took the open seat in front of him.

Ruby: So tell me, what kind of, Spiritual Powers do you have?

Jaune: W-What?

Ruby: I have a, Shadow Wolf, as my, Spiritual Beast, because of that I can use, Shadow, and Wind powers. Considering you have the, Oni Queen, you must have a wide array of powers from her! So what do you have?

Jaune: Oh... well... I have an odd assortment of, Spiritual Powers from, Salem. I have superhuman strength, flight, elemental control, and regeneration. Salem has a few more powers that I can't us, but that's basically it.

Ruby: Whoa! That's amazing! Mine sound lame compared to yours... You can use all of my powers, and some...

Jaune: Yeah, but you still have powers I don't have; Having a, Shadow Wolf as your, Spiritual Beast means you will have a high sense of smell, and be able to run at really fast speeds. Also it shouldn't be hard for your to learn invisibility magic either.

Ruby: Oh. I never knew I could do that... Wait, how did you know I could do that?

Jaune pointed to his side with a chicken nugget in his fingers.

Jaune: Lord of Beasts. She knows basically everything there is about any, Spiritual Beast there is.

Jaune was about to eat the chicken nugget in his hand until he realized there was no nugget in his fingers, he looked to his side, and shouted.

Jaune: Hey?!

Ruby was about to ask, Jaune another question when another person came up on his left.

: Hello, Mr. Arc.

Jaune: Hmm? Oh, you're, Weiss Schnee! I love your music; Mirror Mirror is my favourite.

Weiss: Oh... T-Thank you...

Weiss hadn't expected someone to notice her, and complement her because of her music. It took her a moment to remove the blush spreading across her face.

Weiss: Ahem! I was wondering if I could have a few words with you about your, Spiritual Beast; Salem the Oni Queen.

Jaune: Sure, take a seat.

Weiss: Thank you! I wondering if...? Bleh!?

Weiss had taken the seat on, Jaune's left, but as soon as she sat down next to him, and put her tray of food on the table. She suddenly felt an invisible force on her face, pushing her away from, Jaune. Making a two foot gap between them.

Weiss, soon felt the pressure on her face fade away, and then she felt something tap her head. She, and Ruby started looking around, utterly perplexed as to what had just happened.

Weiss: W-What? What just happened?

Jaune: Oh, sorry about that... Yeah, Salem doesn't like it when woman, outside my family, sit next to me.

Weiss: So she pushed me away...?!

Jaune: Yeah. If you were rather... aggressive she would have just shoved you out of the seat.

Ruby: She's done that to people before?

Jaune: Oh yeah. She's sent people flying before. So. sorry about that, Weiss.

Jaune turned to face, Weiss to apologize to her, but, Weiss was touching her face in stunned amazement as if she had just achieved enlightenment.

Jaune: Uhh... Weiss?

Weiss: She touched my face...? A, Spiritual Deity touched my face! And, she tapped me on my head...? EEEEE! This is the best day ever!

Weiss squealed in glee as her body shook in absolute delight. Jaune, and Ruby could only stare on in disbelief as, Weiss seemingly lost it.

Ruby: Has this happened before...?

Jaune: Most people don't even know I have a, Spiritual Beast, let alone the fact of who she is. So, no... this has not happened before.

Weiss: This is a glorious day, for I have been blessed by the, Gods~!

As soon as those words left, Weiss's lips a look of terror wrought it's way across, Jaune's face.

Jaune: Oh shit! She's a, Spiritualist!

Ruby: A, Spiritualist; What is that?

Jaune: A religious group that worship, Spiritual Beast. In particular, Spiritual Deities, such as, Salem. They can either be pretty tame in their devotion, or rather zealous. They can be rather... troublesome at times.

Ruby: People worship, Salem?!

Jaune: She is a god, so...?

Ruby: It must be cool having people worship you as a god!

Jaune: Uhhh...?

Jaune gave a worried look to his right, seeing, Salem trying to make as much distance between herself, and Weiss, while still staying close to, Jaune as psychically possible.

Jaune: Depends on the god... Salem doesn't seem to like being worshiped.

Jaune's eyebrow quirked as, Salem said something next to him, something that made his face flush red from embarrassment.

Jaune: That's... You know I didn't mean it like that?!

Ruby: didn't mean it like what?

Jaune: NOTHING!

Jaune shouted at, Ruby, not wanting to reveal his dark secrets. He quickly turned his attention back to, Weiss who was still trapped in a state of nirvana.

Jaune decided to ignore, Weiss, and her whole religious awakening thingy. and, decided to go back to his food. But, just as he was about to take a bit of his meal when he bit on nothing.

Jaune: Hey!? Stop stealing my chicken nuggies woman!

Weiss: How dare you address a god in such a crass manner!

Ruby: She likes chicken nuggies...?

Jaune: Haa... this is going to be a long four years...

[onebadassunicorn]

His Blue-Eyed Angel

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: scars, smut - glorious smut!!

word count: 5.1k

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Story tags: @bravo-delta-eccho @tele86 @tiredsleepyhead @celestialgilb @theflowerswillbloom @fuckingsimp4azriel @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @salvatoresister1 @imperfect0angel @stvrdustalexx @anneas11

Image owned by Velocity Visual Media.

********************

Chapter 21

Y/n POV

As I closed the door to my room, Azriel stood with his lower back leaning against my dressing table, his muscular arms crossed. 

He was here. 

He was really here. 

My heart pounded at the sight of him, and I swallowed hard, praying he would not see my hands shaking. 

Gods, he was still so sexy. 

Even after six months of being away from him, he still took my breath away. 

Why had nothing changed? 

Since I had been gone for what seemed like an eternity, I had thought my reaction to him might have been milder.  I had spent the last six months convincing myself that he may never want to see me again, that he might simply be a part of my past, never to be a part of my present or future. 

And yet, here he was…back in my life in an instant with that same sense of untamed spirit just seething below the surface.  He had the same hazel eyes that could melt me with just one look and those chiseled cheekbones resembling a God. 

My heart screamed at me to run to him as my fingers itched to touch him…to make sure he was real and not some figment of my imagination. My head, however, told me to stay put and maintain a safe distance.

I slowly crossed the room and stood several feet in front of him, my pulse beating erratically.  He fixed his magnetic eyes on me with a dark stare, sweeping me out of reality and into a wave of emotions I had not felt since the last time I saw him.  His eyes lingered on my curves before he let out a long sigh and finally spoke. “You look amazing, Y/n...”

“Thanks.” I mumbled as I stared down at my feet.  I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes.  I knew if I did, I would get lost in him and to do so again would damn near destroy me. 

I sighed heavily, letting my shoulders drop., before bringing my eyes back to his.  “What did you want to talk about, Az?”

Azriel stood up straight and shoved his hands in his pockets. His eyes, filled with a mixture of guilt and raw emotion, never left mine.

“Us,“ Azriel whispered, his wings tucked tightly behind him, his hands clenched at his sides as if he were bracing himself for what he was about to say. The soft sunlight streamed through the windows, bathing him in a golden glow, but even that light couldn’t soften the tension in his face. I lifted my eyes back to his and he swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on mine.

“I owe you an explanation,” he said, his voice low but steady. “About everything. About Elain. About the way I’ve acted… the way I pushed you away.”

My expression didn’t waver as I tried to hide hurt lingering in my eyes, a wound he had inflicted and hated himself for. He drew in a breath, as if the words he was about to say required all the strength he had.

“Angel,” he began, his voice quiet but steady, “before you walked into my life a year ago, I never… I never believed I was worthy of something like this. Of you. I didn’t think someone like me deserved love, or even a chance at it.” His gaze flickered down for a moment, as if ashamed. “I didn’t do relationships. It wasn’t who I was. I thought it was easier to keep my distance, to let myself be… detached. To keep things simple. Physical. No strings.”

He took a step closer, his shadows stirring faintly around him, mirroring the turmoil he felt. “I had lovers. Many of them, over the years. But that’s all they ever were. I didn’t let them in. I didn’t… feel anything deeper. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but I thought falling in love, letting myself be vulnerable—” His voice cracked slightly, and he looked away, his jaw tightening. “I thought it wasn’t meant for someone like me.”

“Elain,” he continued carefully, softly, like it might shatter in the air between us. “She’s… nothing more to me than a friend. She never has been. I thought—at one point—that maybe there was something there, something I could convince myself to feel because it was safe. Easy.” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “But that wasn’t real. None of it was. It was an illusion I clung to because it kept me from looking at the truth.”

I swallowed, suddenly feeling a huge lump in my throat.  

“What changed?”

Azriel stepped closer to me and smiled softly.  “You.  You changed everything.”  

His eyes looked down as though was grounding himself for what he said next. “The truth is… I was terrified. Of you. Of how much I wanted you, how deeply you affected me. You came into my life and turned everything I thought I knew upside down. You made me feel things I didn’t think I deserved to feel. And that scared me more than anything.”

His hands clenched at his sides, as if he were holding himself back from reaching for me. “So I pushed you away. I kept my distance. And I used Elain—without realizing it at first—as a shield. But the truth is, Angel, it was never her. It’s you. It’s always been you.”

“I never saw this coming, but now that I’ve had it – I never want to let it go.  I want you and only you, Angel.  You’re all I can think about.” 

Azriel’s eyes found mine again, and this time they held a vulnerability that made my chest tighten. “You shattered every wall I built, without even trying,” he said softly. “You made me want something I never thought I could have. You made me believe that I could be more than the shadows I carry. That I could be… enough.”

 He stepped closer still, his voice dropping to a whisper, raw and full of emotion. “I love you, Angel. Not as a friend. Not as anything safe or convenient. I love you in a way that terrifies me, in a way that’s overwhelming and all-consuming and so much bigger than I ever thought love could be. I love you. And I only ever want you.”

His eyes searched my face as if afraid of what he might find there. “I need you to know the truth, because you deserve that. But you also need to know that those pieces of my past—they mean nothing to me now. They’ve never meant anything, not like this. Not like you.” He stepped closer, his voice trembling with sincerity. “You’re my mate, Angel. My only. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you, if you’ll let me.”

Azriel closed his eyes for a moment, as if he were gathering strength to ask his next question.  He took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes. 

“Is there someone else?” His eyes searched mine, his voice barely a whisper.

Azriel let out a shaky breath, his wings trembling slightly behind him as he waited for my response, every ounce of his heart laid bare before me.

I almost choked as the tears began to pool in my eyes before streaming down my cheeks. 

“What?”  

My breath caught in my throat as he closed the distance quickly between us, but he was suddenly so close to me, I couldn’t think straight.  It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room and all I wanted was to be in his arms again, his body pressed against mine, kissing me until I couldn’t breathe.  

“I have to know,” He asked hoarsely as his hands cupped both of my cheeks, his thumbs wiping away my tears before his hands dropped back to his sides.

“Is there someone else?” 

At that point, my resolve completely obliterated.

“No, Azriel. There is no one else. I can’t love anyone else…because I’m in love with you.” I whispered as my arms fell to my sides, tears falling down my cheeks. 

Azriel wiped my tears. “Baby…please don’t cry.” he whispered  before closing his eyes, touching his forehead against mine, taking in what I had just confessed. We stood there for a few moments just breathing each other in before I got the courage to speak again.

I didn’t want to be afraid anymore. I didn’t want to believe that Azriel, of all people, would reject me. But the fear, raw and real, continued to claw at my heart, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that, one day, he might look at me—and see nothing more than the ugly scars left behind.

“Did you mean everything you just said?”

Azriel opened his eyes and gazed back at me, his face raw with emotion.

“Every. Fucking. Word.”  

He grabbed my hips and pulled me forcefully to him, slamming his mouth against mine in a bruising kiss.  Our kiss accelerated quickly, our lips slamming into each other for fear of this moment ending. My mouth responded hungrily to his and his kisses became deeper, his tongue seeking entry into my mouth…which I eagerly gave him.  As he wrapped his arms around my waist, I plunged my hands up under his shirt, feeling the muscles in his chest ripple under my hands.  He made a growling noise low in his throat as he pulled his mouth away from mine and began to kiss a trail down my neck.  

“Angel…baby” he murmured as he planted thousands of kisses on my tender skin.  “Fuck, I have missed you so much.”

His lips found mine again, his kisses becoming desperate, as if we needed each other more than air. I wrapped my hands around his neck to pull him tighter, trying to remove any space left between us.  His strong hands slid up under my shirt and caressed my back.  The heat of his palms burned my cool skin, and I arched my back into him, feeling his cock harden against me.  I inhaled sharply and felt Azriel smile against my lips, knowing full well the effect he had on me.  It was all I could do to cling to him to stop myself from completely drowning in him as tiny sparks danced across my skin.  

Desire pooled between my legs, and I moaned into his mouth as he claimed mine again and again, running his tongue along my bottom lip before gently sucking on it.  

“Azriel…” I moaned as his mouth continued to devour mine.  His familiar, masculine scent, cedar, shadows and mist, filled my senses and I began to tremble in his arms.  Not from fear or worry, but anticipation and longing. 

As he continued to kiss me, and the world seemed to fade away. His hands moved to cup my face again with a reverence that made my knees weak, as though I were something precious, something unbreakable. I let myself continue to sink into his kisses, into the warmth of his touch, the overwhelming sense of belonging he gave me.

But then, as his hands gently brushed down my sides, I froze. The memory of my scars flashed in my mind like a cruel reminder. The one on my abdomen, a trauma that I would carry for the rest of my life, I couldn’t bear to show him. I pulled away suddenly, my breath shaky, my arms wrapping protectively around myself as if to shield the parts of me I didn’t want him to see.

Azriel’s brow furrowed, his hazel eyes scanning my face with concern. “Angel? What’s wrong?” His voice was soft, as if afraid to startle me

I shook my head, my chest tightening as I struggled to find the words, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I just… I need you to see all of me,” I said, my voice trembling. “Not just the parts that are easy to love. The parts I’ve tried to hide, even from myself. I’ve spent so long feeling… ashamed of this. Of what it represents. But if I want to be with you—really be with you—I can’t hide anymore.”

Azriel exhaled slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. He cupped my face, his thumbs wiping away from my tears.

“Show me,” he whispered softly.

I stepped back, my hands shaking as they moved to the ties of my dress.

Slowly, I pulled the ties of my dress, my fingers fumbling with the fabric as my heart pounded in my chest. I slid my arms out of the sleeves and let the dress to the floor, revealing the jagged scar that stretched across the lower part of my stomach—a mark left by a battle I had barely survived.

******

Azriel POV

Azriel held his breath as her dress fell to the floor, completely naked and bare to him.

Rage rocketed through him as he took in the scar below her navel, just above her pubic bone. A cruel mark that she would never escape.

A scar made using faebane, ensuring she would never heal and would be marked forever.

A word carved into her skin.

Whore.

The fury inside made him tremble.

A wave of protectiveness, so powerful it nearly took his breath away, consumed him. No one, no one, should have ever done this to her. She was the woman he loved more than anything—more than his own life.

“Fuck, baby…” he choked as he gathered her into his embrace, holding her tight against him as she shook in his arms. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, kissing the top of her shoulder.

He pulled back, lifting her chin with his fingers, his thumb brushing over her cheek to steady himself. His hands, usually so controlled, shook as he held her face. His eyes softened for a moment, the love he felt for her shining through, but when his gaze fell again on the scar, his jaw clenched with a force that nearly cracked his teeth. He couldn’t look at it without feeling a surge of anger, a primal need to protect what was his.

Slowly, with a tenderness that contrasted the fury inside him, he sank to his knees before her and lowered his lips to the scar, pressing a kiss there. His lips lingered for a moment longer than necessary, as if he could somehow erase the pain from her body, but the truth was, he knew he couldn’t.

Azriel looked up at her, his gaze holding hers, his hands on her hips and whispered.

“You’re beautiful. Every single part of you.”

He kissed the length of the scar reverently. As he stood back up, his eyes held hers, his breath was ragged, his eyes dark with an intensity.

“The man who did this to you, whoever thought they could break you, you are strong and fierce, my beautiful mate.  I swear, I will never let anyone hurt you again. No one—no one—touches what is mine.”

His words were fierce, raw with emotion, and as he spoke, he kneeled again to kiss the scar, a slow, deliberate press of his lips, as if to mark it as his own, as if to take back the ownership that had been stolen from her.

Azriel pulled away just enough to look up at her face, his voice now softer, but no less intense. “And I will kill anyone who touches you.”

His gaze filled with a tenderness that seemed to be at odds with the intensity of violence in his promise, but she could see the truth in his eyes. The depth of his love, his protection, and his unwavering devotion. He stood and pulled her close. 

“I love you more than anything. And I’ll burn the world down before I let anyone hurt you again.  You are mine.”

She smiled softly, her eyes darting to the floor.

Gods, if she only knew how being away from her for the past six months was slowly killing him every day.  He lifted her chin back up to look him straight in the eyes.  

“Azriel - “ she started but there was nothing left to say except show her.  He silenced her, pulling her into another kiss.  Her lips were so soft and sweet that he began to feel a rush zip throughout his body.  

She slid her arms back around his neck, pulling him closer until he could feel every curve of her petite body up against him and he began to lose himself in her.  She was like a drug to him, and the more he had of her – the more he craved her.  The pull she had over him was overwhelming and in the past, it had scared him.  But after losing her for months, he was no longer scared. He wanted all of her…body, mind and soul. Her sighs and moans spurred his kisses on as her nails dug into his neck as his lips continued to caress hers.  

And the little sounds she made…fuck.  

He had not even touched her pussy yet and the smell of her arousal mixed with his own, the taste of her lips, were driving him crazy.  As her soft hands moved across his chest, her touch set fire to his skin, leaving him with a desire for her to touch every inch of him.  

He stopped long enough to pull his shirt over his head before his lips landed back on hers. He placed little kisses down her jaw to her neck and then licked the little patch of skin underneath her ear.  It was one of her most sensitive spots and as he licked it, she moaned his name.

Gods, how he loved her moans. 

He worked his way back up to her lips, eliciting a whimper from her that sent him right over the edge.  Desire flooded through him, and he slid one hand up her side cupped her breast.  He ran his thumb across her nipple and felt it harden quickly beneath his touch.  She began to tremble as he continued to kiss her and he felt her body press more into his, completely succumbing to him. 

No longer able to control himself, he slid his hand down to the front of her stomach to the apex of her thighs.  Her body’s response to his was intoxicating and his cock began to throb.  

He wanted to be inside of her.  

Now.

“Az-“

“I know, baby…” I whispered back to her, between kisses.  “I’ve got you.”  

An audible exhale escaped her lips as his fingers slid across her clit. He felt her hold on his neck tighten as he continued his caresses, increasing in pressure with each swipe.  He moved his mouth back to her neck and slowly nibbled and sucked on it. As her moans grew louder, his cock strained against his pants, and he ground it against her. 

He moved away from her clit, slid two fingers inside her and her breath caught.

“Gods baby...you’re dripping wet for me.” 

Fuck, her pussy was soaking wet.

He began to slide his fingers in and out of her.

Silky and tight

He moved his mouth back up to her lips and thrust his tongue into her mouth.  

Mine.  

He was never letting her go again and he would fucking kill anyone who ever tried to take her away from him. 

******

Y/n POV

As I rocked my hips in sync with his hand, it was almost more than I could take. 

“Angel…you are so fucking beautiful.”

Azriel began to kiss a trail down my neck to my breasts. He swirled his tongue around one of my nipples before taking it into his mouth and sucking on it with soft, little tugs. He then swirled his tongue around my nipple again, lightly bit it and pressed his soft lips to it, kissing it to soothe the slight sting of his bite. He was slowly driving me crazy, and I felt wetness trickle down the inside of my thighs as he moved from one breast to the other. 

As he kissed a trail back up to my neck, I tightened my arms around his neck and pressed my hips into his as his fingers continued to slide in and out of me. I felt his hard cock against me, and I could no longer stand his pants between us. 

I had to have Azriel now. 

I was tired of waiting. 

“I need you, Az.”

He pulled back slightly and looked at me, his breathing heavy.

“Say it again…”

I stared back into his hazel eyes, his pupils blown. I pulled him closer and whispered against his lips. 

“Make love to me, Azriel.”

He moaned and kissed me again, sliding his hands under me to grip my ass, wrapping my legs around his waist. He picked me up and carried me over to my bed, laying me down carefully. He stood up and unzipped his pants and slid them down his legs, never taking his eyes off me. His cock sprang free, and my eyes drank in every detail of his gorgeous body. The tip of his thick cock was seeping from the head and just knowing I had this effect on him and his body made me even wetter. 

He climbed over me and laid down with his arms on either side of my head. As he kissed me again, one of his hands caressed down my stomach and I arched my back into him to let him know I wanted his hand to continue roaming down my body. As he reached my pussy, he slid his fingers up and down my clit several times before sliding a finger inside of me. He groaned as he continued to kiss me while inserting another finger inside me, eliciting a whimper from me. 

He pumped his fingers in and out of me several times before moving his fingers back up to my clit, circling it with just enough pressure to make me writhe underneath him. He slid his fingers inside me again, arching them up to hit the spot he knew would soon send me over the edge. I arched my hips against his hand, seeking to satisfy the building release inside of me. Azriel groaned and then stilled his fingers inside of me, pulling back to look me in the eyes. 

“I need to taste you, baby.” His said, his voice deep and dark with desire. “Not only am I going to taste your pretty pussy, I’m going to taste every inch of you.”

Mother above, Azriel had a filthy mouth. 

He slowed the pump of his fingers as he kissed his way down my neck, breasts, and stomach. It felt like he was everywhere at once and my senses were overloaded with his scent, his tongue licking my body and his fingers curved up inside of me as they slid in and out so easily. 

I felt my orgasm begin to build as he made his way down my body. When he reached the apex of my thighs, he settled in between them and latched onto my clit, sucking it into his mouth, alternating with licks up and down. 

“Mmmm.  You taste so fucking good, Angel.”

He lapped, licked and sucked on my clit until my legs began to shake. My breathing grew heavy as I was right on the edge of my release. I closed my eyes and arched my back when he suddenly stopped and pulled his mouth away. I gasped from the sudden removal of his mouth, and I pulled up to lean back on my elbows, clearly annoyed. 

“Az!”

Azriel chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Eyes on me, baby. No closing them. I want to watch you fall apart while I am eating this sweet pussy.”

Looking at Azriel as he feasted on me was one of the most raw, intimate things I had ever experienced in my life.  Watching him as he made me come was like baring a part of my soul that would only belong to him and no one else.  

I nodded my head as he began to suck on my clit again, alternating between lapping it with the flat part of his tongue before latching onto it. He pumped his fingers in and out of me faster and his other hand found mine, slowly intertwining our fingers together. It was almost as if he was afraid I’d disappear into thin air. I never knew just how intimate holding someone’s hand could be until now. 

With my free hand, I reached down and ran my hand through his dark wavy hair as he continued, his eyes locked on mine. When he began to moan as if he couldn’t get enough of me, the vibrations sent pulses straight to my clit and I began to shake, my orgasm building at a speeding frenzy. 

He pumped his fingers even faster and whispered.

“Let go, baby.”

Azriel latched onto my clit and sucked hard, ripping my orgasm right from me and sending me over the edge, screaming his name. I kept my eyes on his as long as I could before I became a writhing mess with my head falling back on the bed. He continued to lick me slowly, letting me ride out the pleasure as long as possible before he stopped and slowly kissed his way back up my body. 

******

Azriel POV

The sunlight illuminated the soft curves of her body, and he had never seen anything more fucking sexy than watching her come with his face between her legs. He missed her so much that he wanted to kiss and lick every inch of her body, staking his claim to her and coming inside her sweet pussy, permanently marking her as his.  

As he kissed his way back up her body, his eyes drifted over the cruel scar left behind. He pressed gentle kisses against the scar, against her skin. He let his gaze continue over taut curve of her stomach, the soft swell of her breasts, and her swollen lips from his kisses. He settled between her hips and pulled her hand, still intertwined with his, over her head.  With his free hand, he ran his thumb softly back and forth over her swollen bottom lip. 

“Angel, these past six months have been hell. I can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t fucking breathe without you. Everything is going to shit because I’m without you.”

She smiled softly, her eyes filling with tears. One slowly slid out of the corner of her eye, and he wiped it away with his thumb. 

“The way you make me feel safe, loved, and seen – even with all of these scars…I don’t even know what to say.” She whispered as she raised up to kiss him softly, tasting herself on his lips. “I love you, Azriel.”

He brushed the hair back out of her face as his beautiful eyes lovingly gaze back at her. “You just said everything I needed to hear.”

Azriel leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, his tongue swiping across her lower lip as she opened for him. Wrapping her legs around his waist, he ground his cock against her core, eliciting a mewl from her. Azriel smiled against her mouth, fully aware of what he was doing as she rocked against him, again desperately seeking that needed friction.

“Az – please,” she panted, her breathing shallow as she writhed underneath him.

He chuckled deeply, as his eyes danced with mischief. “My Angel is so greedy.”

She looked down at his cock, glistening and dripping from the tip and wrapped her hand around him, pumping his shaft with several long strokes. As her hand slid back up to the tip, she rubbed her thumb in a circle over it and slid it back down again.

And that was Azriel’s undoing.

Growling, his restraint snapped as he grabbed her hand away from his cock, intertwined his fingers with hers and pushed both of her hands above her head. He lined up the head of his cock with her entrance and pushed into her in one thrust. Her breath caught, and they both moaned as he seated himself inside her.

Fuck, she was so tight around him.

He stilled as she adjusted to the size of him, kissing and licking her neck.

“Azriel-I need –“

He brought his mouth back to hers and kissed her long and slow. “I know, baby. I know.”

He started thrusting inside her, slowly, almost pulling completely out before he slid back in again. He wanted her to feel every inch of him moving inside her. He moved his hands to her waist and wrapped them around each side, watching the outline of his cock sliding up inside her abdomen.

“Fuck, Angel – look at you.  Taking my cock so well.” He murmured, his hazel eyes darkening as he gazed down at his cock sliding in and out of her.

Her breathing became heavier as her blue eyes darkened, full of love and desire for him.

He could get lost in those eyes for the rest of his life.

He picked up his pace as thrust into her, the head of his cock dragging against the walls of her pussy, as he bent one of her knees so he could thrust deeper inside of her.

He felt her pussy tighten against him and he knew she was close. Her gasps of pleasure were music to his ears, and her body’s responsiveness to him was addicting.

As if she were made just for him.

And at that moment, he decided he could spend the rest of his life between her legs and die a happy man.

The room was filled with the soft sounds of their lovemaking, the creaking of her bed, the rustle of the sheets, and the sounds of wet flesh as his cock thrust into her.

He had dreamt of this moment for so long and it was all he could do to hold on.

“Come for me, Angel. I want to see you come all over my cock.”  He commanded as he stared down into her blue eyes.

That was all it took for her to go over the edge, screaming his name as her head tilted back, writhing underneath him. Her walls fluttered around his length as she rode wave after wave of ecstasy.

Watching her fall apart for him, he followed her over the edge, her name a whisper on his lips as he emptied himself inside of her.

As he pulled out from her and laid on his back, tucking her into his side and grazed his fingers across her lower back, he felt the weight of his devotion, the depth of his passion and the breadth of his love for her. He whispered his love to her, his voice hoarse with emotion, and her response was a soft, sweet whisper that sealed their love.

And in that moment, he knew, that she was his forever.

He was finally home.

[fanby-fckry]

You know what, I gotta say something about the Alastor ship wars.

I’m a multishipper, and I generally think ship wars are silly, but the increase in RadioDust hate combined with RadioApple being posited as the “acceptable” and “wholesome” Alastor ship bugs the fuck out of me.

Because if we look a little closer, I’m pretty sure we can figure out why a relationship between Angel and Alastor is considered “problematic” “unhealthy” or “impossible,” while a relationship between Lucifer and Alastor gets a pass. And the answer is sex.

People cannot be normal about asexuals or sex workers long enough to see them as anything more than their sex lives/lack-thereof, and therefor an asexual and a sex worker are completely incompatible to them.

If you can’t see Angel as anything other than a sex object, then congrats, you’ve missed the entire point of his character. Rewatch Masquerade and Welcome to Heaven, then get back to me.

If you think Alastor isn’t perfectly capable of setting boundaries regarding sex, you’re infantilizing him based on his asexuality. He is not an uwu blushing virgin who needs you to defend his innocence and keep the evil whore from deflowering him. He fucking kills people. Stop white-knighting the fictional serial killer. Asexuals have bodily autonomy just like the rest of you, and this particular ace in the hole is especially capable of maintaining that bodily autonomy.

Alastor’s aromanticism doesn’t factor in here at all, because there are QPR and romantic flavors of both ships, and across the board, RadioDust is treated worse.

It’s ok to not like RadioDust, but when you feel the need to outright attack people over it, then I think it’s time to maybe do a little introspection into why it invokes such a strong reaction. Or at least just block the tag and leave it at that.

Signed,

An aroace RadioApple and RadioDust multishipper who is tired of this nonsense.

[santaasi]

santa doesn’t know you like i do

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: in the warmth of christmas, amidst love, healing, and a new beginning, jj and you find your imperfect paradise, where home is wherever you're together

warnings: fluff fluff fluff, establish relationship, talking about kids, no use of y/n, jj calls reader angel, english isn’t my first language

word count: 5.4k

a/n: it's kinda part two to die with the smile. but I think you can read it as a stand alone. requested by this ask. thank u for request, love <з.

ᯓ★ now playing…

sabrina carpenter – santa doesn't know you like I do

Santa Doesn't know you like I do I've been there through the good and bad Know how to make you laugh Kiss all your tears away, babe Ooh, only I can do that

JJ MAYBANK ALWAYS LOVED CHRISTMAS. It was, perhaps, the only holiday that truly felt magical to him. The colorful lights that danced against the dark winter nights, the shop windows adorned with glittering displays, the endless loop of silly Christmas songs filling the air — each element wove a comforting cocoon of warmth around him. Christmas had a way of making the world seem softer, more forgiving, and in those moments, JJ could almost believe in something like peace.

But it hadn’t always been this way.

In the broken Maybank household, Christmas was just another day — unmarked, unnoticed, and devoid of joy. The house sat like an unlit beacon in a sea of festivity, its cold walls and empty halls an unspoken testament to everything JJ lacked. There were no strings of lights, no wreaths on the door, not even the faintest scent of pine. It was an iceberg of indifference, floating through a season of cheer.

His father rarely even bothered to come home during Christmas. Sometimes he was locked away, serving another term; other times, he was lost in some forgotten corner of a bar, drowning his bitterness in cheap whiskey, unaware — or perhaps unconcerned — that his son was alone.

Yet, despite it all, every Christmas morning, there was always something waiting for JJ. Beneath the sad excuse for a tree — a cactus he’d once rescued from the roadside and jokingly dubbed "the Maybank pine" — he’d find a small gift and a postcard. The presents were modest: a toy car from a roadside stall or a bag of store-brand candy. The cards bore messages scribbled in rushed handwriting, sometimes just his name. But to JJ, they were everything. Those tiny, clumsy gestures felt like a fragile thread connecting him to something hopeful, something magical.

Even in the coldest, loneliest moments of his childhood, Christmas held onto him. It was his reminder that even in a life as messy and cruel as his, there could still be flickers of wonder.

But as the years passed, the childish magic of Christmas began to fade. JJ found himself watching from the sidelines as families like John B’s, Pope’s, and Kiara’s gathered around large tables, their homes alive with laughter, love, and the glow of holiday cheer. He watched them string lights and hang delicate ornaments on real Christmas trees — the kind that had once mesmerized him through storefront windows. And as much as he tried to bury it, a quiet ache settled deep in his chest.

It wasn’t just envy. It was the sharp sting of absence, a longing for something he’d never truly had. JJ had never known the comfort of a family coming together, the warmth of being part of something whole. He’d never sat at a big table on Christmas Eve, hands joined in prayer, giving thanks for love and blessings. He’d never felt the security of being surrounded by people who cared for him simply because he existed. And though he masked the pain behind his signature grin and easy bravado, it festered inside him — a quiet storm of hurt and resentment.

He wanted what they had. He wanted it desperately. But instead, his Christmases were spent alone. A pack of chips served as his feast, the flickering light of a static-filled TV his only companion. Lying on his bed, he would flip through the sparse free channels, hoping for some distraction, some escape. And always, in the back of his mind, he clung to the faintest hope that come morning, he’d find a small gift beneath the cactus — his father’s feeble, unspoken attempt at connection.

For years, this was his Christmas: quiet, lonely, and hollow.

But then, one year, everything changed.

JJ was fourteen when his father was imprisoned for the first time for an extended period, leaving him utterly alone. John B. and his father did what they could to help, but JJ bristled at the idea of being anyone’s charity case. The weight of feeling indebted was too much for him to bear. That summer, he decided to fend for himself, searching for his first job.

It wasn’t easy. JJ quickly discovered that no one wanted to hire a scrappy, imperfect Pogue with a tarnished family name. The shadow of his father’s reputation loomed large over the island, and people assumed that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. He could still recall the sting of rejection, the way doors closed in his face, and the cold, judgmental eyes that dismissed him before he even had a chance to speak. With each failure, his hope dwindled, until desperation weighed heavy on his young shoulders.

And then, like a ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds, your father entered his life.

JJ often saw him at the docks, heading out for early-morning fishing trips. A few times, when the catch was plentiful, your father had even handed JJ a couple of fish — no questions asked, no pity in his eyes. Your family wasn’t wealthy like the Camerons, but you weren’t struggling at the bottom of the Cut either. You lived modestly, running a small fishmonger’s shop that was well-loved by locals for its unmatched quality.

That day, as JJ sat dejectedly on the pier, contemplating yet another fruitless search, your father approached him. With a kind smile and no hesitation, he offered JJ a job. Weekend mornings spent fishing, helping with traps and unloading — the kind of honest work JJ had been searching for. It felt like a lifeline, a stroke of fortune for a fourteen-year-old boy who had nearly given up.

From that moment, your father became more than an employer. He became a steady presence in JJ’s life, someone who saw the good in him when others refused to look past the Maybank name. In time, he even became a friend — a surrogate father in ways JJ hadn’t realized he desperately needed.

Your family’s kindness extended beyond the job. Your father often invited JJ to join your family dinners, but JJ rarely accepted. The idea of intruding on something so warm and whole made him uncomfortable. He already felt like he owed your father too much, and the last thing he wanted was to overstep. Still, on the rare occasions when your mother’s insistence won out, JJ would find himself sitting at your table, silently marveling at the life you lived.

And then there was you.

At every dinner, JJ’s eyes inevitably found you. You were radiant, an unapproachable beauty that reminded him of the star atop a Christmas tree — brilliant and captivating, yet forever out of reach. The two of you didn’t talk much, just polite exchanges and fleeting smiles, but it was enough. For JJ, it was more than enough.

He fell for you quietly, deeply, and without reservation. To him, you were a dream — a glimpse of something he could never quite have but couldn’t help but long for.

But one day, everything changed — and with it, JJ’s love for Christmas was born.

It was the same year, during the heart of winter. JJ wandered aimlessly through the deserted streets of Kildare, his hands buried deep in his pockets as the howling sea wind tugged at his threadbare jacket. Shop windows, darkened in honor of the holiday, glimmered faintly with leftover lights, their cheerful displays feeling like a world apart from his reality. Everyone else was inside, basking in the warmth of family and celebration. His friends were home — John B. spending the day with his father, Pope and Kiara with their own families — while JJ walked the streets, searching for something he couldn’t name, a place where he belonged.

His own house was cold and hollow, a silent reminder of all he didn’t have. John B. had invited him over, but JJ declined, unwilling to intrude on his friend’s rare moments of peace with his dad. So, he drifted through the morning, each step pulling him deeper into an abyss of loneliness.

A sudden chime shattered his thoughts — the soft jingle of a shop bell as its door swung open. JJ looked up, his breath catching as the sound of laughter echoed down the street.

It was you.

You stepped out of the grocery store with your dad, your voice lilting with a joy that made the bleak morning feel brighter. A red knit hat perched on your head, mirroring the one your father wore, and you both sported matching festive pajama sets. The sight was almost absurdly charming, but to JJ, you looked radiant — more beautiful than ever. The soft sunlight seemed to halo around you, making you seem like an angel come to life.

As if sensing his gaze, you turned toward him and waved, your smile lighting up the frosty morning. JJ’s heart stuttered, and before he could fully process it, you were already standing in front of him, your breath visible in the chill air, your cheeks flushed pink.

“Merry Christmas, Jay,” you said warmly, tilting your head slightly. A strand of hair escaped from beneath your hat, brushing your face. JJ had to fight the overwhelming urge to reach out, to tuck it back behind your ear.

“Merry Christmas, angel,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them. It was only when he saw the faint blush dust your cheeks, your gaze darting downward with a shy smile, that he realized what he’d called you.

“We... my dad and I were thinking,” you began hesitantly, your voice a little rushed, “do you want to spend Christmas with us?”

JJ blinked, caught off guard.

You bit your lip nervously, shifting your weight. “We haven’t opened presents yet, and Mom made that cherry pudding you love, and we always watch a movie after that and-”

You were rambling, your nose wrinkling slightly as you spoke, and JJ couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t want to impose, didn’t want to accept and risk feeling like a burden. But the nervous hope in your voice, the way you avoided his eyes as though bracing for rejection, made it impossible to refuse.

“Thank you. With pleasure,” he interrupted softly, his smile widening.

Your eyes snapped up to meet his, wide with surprise, and then they lit up with excitement. Before JJ could react, you grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the car with a burst of enthusiasm. “He said yes, Dad!” you called out, beaming.

That Christmas was the best of JJ’s life.

The warmth of the fireplace, the soft glow of the Christmas tree, the unexpected gifts waiting under its branches — all of it was magical. But none of it compared to the feeling of being part of something he’d always longed for. Sitting with your family, sharing laughter and stories, tasting your mom’s cherry pudding, JJ felt something he hadn’t dared to dream of: belonging.

And then there was you.

You, who had reached out when no one else had. You, who had brought him in from the cold, both outside and within. You, who had become his Christmas angel, saving him with your kindness and warmth. That day, you didn’t just give JJ a happy holiday — you gave him a family.

You became his home.

And now, JJ sat on the bed in the bedroom you shared, in the house you’d built together — not the grand mansion with big windows and a sprawling garden he had once promised you under a starlit sky, but a modest, white, slightly weathered two-story home. It had a cozy front yard with space for flowers yet to be planted and a back door that opened onto the soft sands of the beach. It wasn’t the picture-perfect dream you once painted together, but it was real. It was yours.

This house had become his sanctuary. Each day, he came home to your arms, finding solace in your laughter and warmth. Each morning, he woke beside you, basking in the light of a love that grounded him. And tonight, you would celebrate your first Christmas in the home you’d built — not just of wood and stone, but of trust and shared dreams. It wasn’t perfect. Neither were you. But it was home.

For JJ, it was more than he had ever thought he could have. The boy who once wandered lonely streets at Christmas, who stared longingly at shop windows and dreamed of belonging, had found it here — with you. The memory of those cold, empty nights and his childhood filled with longing still lingered at the edges of his mind, but they no longer haunted him. You had rewritten his story, replacing loneliness with joy and pain with purpose.

He glanced toward the living room and leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he watched you bustle back and forth between the kitchen and dining room. You were radiant, your hair cascading down your back in soft waves as the skirt of your red dress shimmered with each step. A familiar Santa hat perched on your head, the same one you wore on the Christmas that changed everything—the one where you gave him the gift of belonging for the first time.

The air was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of the turkey roasting in the oven, mingling with the faint, sweet scent of pine from the decorated tree in the corner. Your favorite Christmas playlist hummed in the background, and you hummed along softly as you worked, pausing to adjust the napkins on the table with a perfectionist’s touch. JJ’s lips curled into a smile. You were always like this, always striving to make things special for everyone else, pouring your heart into the smallest details.

He could see the excitement in your every movement — the way your cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the kitchen, the way your eyes sparkled with anticipation. It reminded him of the first time he saw you that Christmas morning years ago, standing on the icy street in your matching pajamas with your dad. Back then, you had invited him into your family, into your world, without hesitation. Now, here you were, creating that same magic, not just for him but for the friends you both cherished.

JJ felt his chest tighten with gratitude. He didn’t need the mansion or the grand promises anymore. He didn’t need a perfectly landscaped garden or the white picket fence. He already had everything he’d ever dreamed of — and more. You were his dream, his home, his Christmas angel.

Pushing off the doorframe, he walked toward you, his steps soft against the wooden floor. You didn’t notice him at first, too focused on the final touches of the table. But when he slid his arms around your waist from behind, you let out a small gasp, laughing as you turned to look up at him.

“Jay,” you chided playfully, though your smile gave you away.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering as he breathed you in — the scent of cinnamon, the faint traces of your perfume, the essence of you. “You know,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with affection, “you don’t have to do all this. It’s already perfect.”

You shook your head, a strand of hair falling into your face, which he gently tucked behind your ear. “I just want it to be special,” you said softly.

“It is,” he said firmly, his blue eyes locking onto yours. “Because of you. Everything you touch becomes special.”

Your cheeks flushed deeper, and you bit your lip, momentarily speechless. JJ smiled, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. The chaos of the kitchen faded, the playlist in the background becoming nothing more than a faint hum. In that moment, there was only the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of the home you’d built and the love that had carried you here.

As if jolted from a dream, you broke the kiss and stepped back slightly, your hands pressed firmly against JJ's chest. His heartbeat thrummed under your palms, steady and sure. You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your brows furrowed in a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“JJ,” you scolded softly, your voice tinged with urgency. “This isn’t the time. The Pogues are gonna be here soon, and we’re not even close to ready!”

JJ’s lips curved into that infuriatingly smug grin of his, the one that made your heart race despite yourself. He leaned back as if he hadn’t a care in the world, his eyes flicking upward with deliberate mischief.

“Relax, angel,” he drawled, his voice warm as honey, smooth as the waves lapping the Cut. “It’s tradition. Had to honor it.”

Your gaze followed his, and you gasped. A cluster of mistletoe hung innocently above you, tied with a red ribbon that swayed gently in the air. You turned back to him, jaw dropping, and gave his chest a light shove.

“When the hell did you do that, Maybank?” you asked, laughing despite yourself.

He shrugged, a picture of nonchalance. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is you’re under it, so-” He grinned wider, tugging you back a step. “Less talking, more kissing.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back your smile. “You’re impossible.”

Yet even as you said it, your lips met his again, soft and lingering. Kissing JJ was like freefalling into the ocean, exhilarating and all-consuming, like the scent of salt air in the morning or the taste of wild blackberries in summer. He was chaos wrapped in warmth, the kind of boy who made you believe in stars aligning and fates intertwining.

As his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of your lips, you felt the world tilt for a moment. It was easy to forget the chaos of the house, the mess still to be cleaned, the impending arrival of your friends. But you forced yourself to pull away just as he began to deepen the kiss.

“Uh-uh,” you teased, breathless but resolute. “Get busy, Maybank. We’ve got work to do.”

JJ groaned dramatically, his pout almost childlike as he tightened his grip on your waist. “I am busy. Busy kissing the prettiest girl in the Outer Banks,” he purred, his lips brushing against your cheek, then trailing to your neck.

“JJ,” you protested weakly, though your hand found its way into his hair, tugging lightly at the golden strands.

Before he could retort, the sharp chime of the doorbell broke the spell.

You froze, your brows knitting together. “What the-” you murmured, glancing at the clock. It was still an hour before Sarah and John B. were supposed to show up. Kiara was stuck at the diner until late, and Pope and Cleo were busy helping out at the store.

Your eyes snapped to JJ, who was now grinning like the cat who’d caught the canary.

“What did you do?” you demanded, narrowing your eyes.

His smile only widened, his blue eyes sparkling with a secret he wasn’t ready to share. “Guess you’ll just have to find out, angel.”

It wasn’t good. Not one bit.

“Go on, angel. Open the door,” JJ said, his voice low and teasing as he let you slip from his arms, giving you a gentle nudge toward the entryway.

You turned back to him, eyebrows raised in suspicion. His smirk was maddening, and his ocean-blue eyes sparkled with mischief, like he knew something you didn’t. “JJ…” you warned, taking slow, hesitant steps.

“Trust me, angel,” he said, leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed. The way he looked at you — like you were the only thing that mattered in the world — made your heart skip. His eyes always held that same soft, unspoken promise, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth spreading through your chest.

Biting your lip, you reached for the doorknob, casting him one last skeptical glance before opening the door. The cool winter air rushed in, bringing with it the scent of pine and saltwater from the sea just down the road. At first, you saw nothing unusual — just the empty driveway, lined with snow that glimmered faintly in the moonlight, and the quiet stillness of the evening. But then, something shifted near your feet.

You froze. The soft sound of rustling paper followed by the creak of a box wobbled slightly on the porch. You jumped back with a startled squeal, your pulse racing. “JJ! JJ!” you called out, your voice a mix of fear and excitement. “There’s… something out here!”

Your eyes darted to the object on the porch — a large box tied with a perfect red bow. It didn’t move at first, but as you took a tentative step closer, the box wobbled again, and a muffled noise came from inside.

Behind you, JJ’s laugh rang out, low and warm, like he was thoroughly enjoying your reaction. “Relax, angel. It’s not gonna bite… much,” he teased, the grin on his face devilishly charming. You could almost hear the glint of mischief in his voice as it wrapped around you, tugging at your nerves.

You whipped around to glare at him, your arms crossing instinctively over your chest. “This is your doing, isn’t it? What is it, JJ?”

His grin widened. “Why don’t you open it and find out?” he said, shrugging like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Pretty sure Santa dropped off an early delivery for you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, still skeptical, but the curiosity was too strong to resist. Slowly, you lowered yourself to your knees, inching closer to the box. Another sound came from inside — a soft, almost pleading whine that made your heart skip a beat. You shivered, but couldn't stop your hands from reaching for the bow. Your fingers trembled slightly as you untied it, the red ribbon falling away like the final barrier between you and whatever lay inside.

“JJ, if this thing jumps out and eats my face, I swear-”

“Just open it, angel,” he said, crouching beside you now, his voice soft and coaxing, like he was trying to keep you calm, though you knew he was just enjoying the show. You could feel his breath tickling the back of your neck, his presence so close that it made your skin heat up despite the cold night air.

With trembling fingers, you tugged the bow loose. The moment it fell away, the lid popped open with a gentle creak, and out came a tiny white muzzle, followed by two shiny black eyes that sparkled like polished onyx. You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand.

“No way…” you whispered, your heart racing as the fluffy creature let out a tiny bark, its tail wagging furiously, causing the box to shake slightly.

JJ chuckled beside you, resting his chin on your shoulder, his laughter warm and full of pride. “Told you Santa came through this year.” His voice was teasing, but there was something deeper there too — a tenderness that you didn’t always hear. It was the same tenderness that had drawn you to him all those years ago, when everything in his life had been so broken, but he had found a way to build something together with you. The soft thrum of your heart matched the beat of his, and it felt like time had stopped just for you two, here in this small moment of joy.

You turned to him, your eyes wide. “You said no dogs. You said the house wasn’t ready!”

JJ shrugged, completely unbothered, his grin stretching wider, a glint of mischievous pride dancing in his gaze. “Guess I lied. Couldn’t resist, angel. I mean, look at him.” He leaned forward, his finger brushing against the puppy’s tiny, soft ears. “He’s got ‘JJ Maybank’ written all over him.”

The puppy let out another excited yip, struggling to climb out of the box. Gently, you lifted him, his soft fur warm in your hands. His tiny paws pressed against your chest as he wiggled excitedly, licking your face with reckless abandon, causing you to giggle uncontrollably.

You laughed, the sound light and free, the way it hadn’t been in years, your heart so full it could’ve burst. “Oh my God, JJ. He’s perfect.”

JJ watched you with a lazy smile, leaning closer to press a kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering there just a moment longer than usual. “I think he’s already got a favorite human,” he teased, brushing your hair behind your ear with a tenderness that made you feel as if the entire world had stopped just for you two.

You cradled the little ball of fluff in your arms, his tiny paws pressing against your chest as he snuggled closer, his warmth filling the empty spaces of your heart. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t care. For the first time in a long while, you felt whole — like all the pieces of your life had finally clicked into place. You looked back at JJ, your voice soft and filled with gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your heart swelling as his smile deepened.

“Anything for you, angel,” he murmured, his hand brushing over yours as he leaned in to kiss you again. It wasn’t a kiss full of urgency or passion this time, but one that was slower, deeper — full of a love that had built up over years of quiet moments, of shared dreams, of both the good and bad times that had shaped you. A kiss that spoke of promises made and promises kept.

His arms were wrapped around your waist, his fingers tracing slow, soothing patterns along the back of your neck as the soft, playful puppy nestled in your lap. The warm weight of the small creature was a perfect contrast to the warmth of JJ’s body pressed against yours. He kissed the delicate curve of your neck, his lips lingering as if he could never get enough of you. He moved to your cheek, then your cheekbone, leaving a trail of tenderness that sent shivers down your spine.

You turned in his arms, your lips finding his in a kiss that spoke volumes. It wasn’t hurried, it wasn’t filled with desperation — no, this kiss was full of everything you’d wanted, everything you had built, everything you had fought for. After everything that had happened in Morocco, the terror, the near loss of him, you never thought you'd find this peace, this quiet joy. But here you were, wrapped in his embrace, feeling more alive than ever.

After that incident, after the nightmare of nearly losing him, JJ had changed. He was different. More gentle, more mindful of your every need, and more focused on building a life with you. You had always known he loved you, always felt the weight of his affection even when he didn’t say it aloud, but now — now it was deeper, tenfold. His love was a constant, a steady presence that made you feel safe in a world that had once felt like it was falling apart. And it was enough. More than enough.

His lips met yours again, soft and slow, each kiss full of meaning, of promises he’d made to himself to make you the happiest woman in the world. And as he kissed you, he whispered against your lips, his voice rough with emotion.

“I love you,” he said, each word wrapping around your heart like a warm blanket.

You smiled, your chest swelling with love as you pulled him closer. The puppy, now content in its new home, wandered around the living room, sniffing at the new surroundings with an inquisitive gleam in his eyes. You didn’t care that the front door was wide open or that you were making out on the living room floor, in full view of anyone who might pass by. There was no one else in the world but JJ and the life you were building together. You just wanted to show him, to remind him, how much you loved him. How much you appreciated him.

“What's the next step?” you teased, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes. Your hands, without thinking, brushed a lock of blond hair away from his forehead, your heart fluttering as you took in the depth of his gaze. “A house, a dog... what's the next thing in our list?” You giggled, the sound light and free, like a melody you could listen to forever.

JJ’s smile deepened, and his voice softened, filled with a warmth that had once been so foreign to him. “Oh, that’s easy. A mini you or a mini me — or a mini us,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear before he kissed you again, this time with a little more passion. You shivered at the thought of what he wanted — a family. Your family.

The idea of children, of a future together, made your heart race. It wasn’t a dream you had ever imagined for yourself. But now, with JJ, it felt right. It felt like it was meant to be.

“But first,” he continued, his voice playful as he broke the kiss, “we deal with this dog, because it seems to me he’s already gnawing on our pillow.”

You laughed, shaking your head, your heart full as you watched the puppy eagerly attack the pink pillow you had bought from the flea market, its fluffy stuffing spilling out onto the floor. The mess didn’t bother you, not at all. You were too caught up in the joy of the moment, in the warmth of JJ’s arms around your waist, in the paradise you had built.

It wasn’t perfect. The house was small, a little worn around the edges, but it was yours. Your home. A place where laughter and love filled the air, where memories were made, and where the future you dreamed of was slowly taking shape. It was paradise. Small, imperfect, but paradise all the same. And you couldn’t have asked for anything more.

But then, something shifted. You smelled it before you saw it — the faint scent of something burning, sharp and sudden. Your heart skipped a beat, and your eyes snapped open as the realization hit you.

“Damn, Jay, the turkey!” you exclaimed, your eyes widening in panic as you bolted upright, the puppy’s ears perked up in alarm as you scrambled to your feet.

JJ laughed, deep and carefree, lying back on the floor as he watched you rush toward the kitchen. He felt like the happiest man on earth, like everything in the world had finally fallen into place. But as you disappeared into the kitchen, he let his mind wander for a moment, and he couldn’t help but think back to the time before all of this.

Back to the dark days when Morocco had nearly torn you apart, when you had held him in your arms, desperate, praying he would survive. You had nightmares for weeks after, haunted by the memory of him almost slipping away from you forever. The weight of that fear had lingered, thick and suffocating, even after you returned to Kildare, when everything should have felt safe again. But it hadn’t been easy. It had taken time. It had taken effort. It had taken healing.

You both had scars from that experience. You, from the sleepless nights and the anxiety that gripped your heart whenever you thought about the what-ifs. And JJ, from the deep, quiet trauma that you knew he didn’t always talk about. But despite all of that, you had found your way back to each other. You had found peace. Together.

Now, as he lay there on the floor, listening to the sound of your frantic steps in the kitchen, he smiled softly to himself. The memories of Morocco were still there, lingering in the background, but they no longer defined him. No longer defined you together. You had rebuilt your paradise, and no amount of darkness could take that away.

JJ Maybank had always been reckless, wild, untamed. But now, he was grounded. Not because the world had suddenly become perfect, but because you were his. Because he had found his anchor in you. You were his home. And no matter what happened, he knew you would always be there, side by side.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the peace of the present wash over him. There was no place he’d rather be. No place but here, with you. His family. His paradise.

And for Christmas, that was all he could ever ask for.

The smell of burning turkey wafted in from the kitchen, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe paradise wasn’t perfect, but damn, it was perfect for him.

thankx for reading <3

it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

okay, this work my first kinda christmas special and I like it so much. also 'santa doesn't know you like I do' is such a beautiful song and maybe the meaning of the song is not connected to the whole vibe of this work but first lines is so jj and angel coded, idk.

but thank you again for reading my work and as usual you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

                                    – your santi 🪐

masterlist

[hypnzo]

Hii! Can you do how the 7 (Percy,Annabeth, Frank, hazel, Leo, Jason, and piper) would react to you crying/ feeling down?

Thank you🫶🫶

Comfortable warmth of your hands and voice ; “I'm here.”

Warning!! : The characters may not exactly react accurately like this, there might be possible mischaracterization.

Percy Jackson would immediately notice that something was up with you. Your face was flushed, your eyes looked a bit red and he swore his mind wasn't playing tricks on him when he saw those dried tear marks on your face.

He'd probably go insane but he bottled it up, letting it simmer below the surface while he fixated his attention on you, comforting you, and trying to ask you what happened.

He'd be there for you, holding your hand in his while his thumb moves along your knuckle which gave you a soothing and grounding comfort to lean on, while also giving you with the knowledge that he was right there and doesn't plan on going anywhere anytime soon.

“Hey, what happened? Are you hurt? You were crying, weren't you? Talk to me, angel.”

Annabeth Chase would notice it immediately, feeling skeptical whenever you'd tell her that you were fine and it was just nothing. She didn't really believe you especially when she heard sniffling for the past few minutes—it didn't really help much when she sees your face looking a bit red.

She'd be worried and if anyone had made you feel this way, she was not going to let it slide. Though, she'd be focused on keeping you calm and feeling comforted first before you guys would get to that topic. If it was a sensitive thing for you to talk about in the moment of vulnerability, she'd give you the time to calm down first while she offers comfort through her action and words.

“Something's wrong, I know it. What happened? Something is clearly making you upset and I'm not about to just let that slide.”

Frank Zhang would drop everything he's doing when he senses any hints of you feeling down. You've been unusually quiet—you looked dull, out of energy, your eyes look like they've been so exhausted and you refused to keep eye contact with him. It confused him but he was alarmed of what was happening. He'd thread carefully with caution in order not to trigger you about anything while he holds you close, ensuring that you'd get the comfort that you are needing.

He'd wait for you to tell him what exactly was making you feel so down. He wanted to be there for you at your lowest and he gently insisted that you didn't need to tell him anything at the moment if you feel like it's too much for you to do. He'd stay there with you, pressing a kiss on your temple, and holding you in his arms.

“Is something bothering you? You've been awfully quiet lately. I'll be here for you, okay?”

Hazel Levesque would notice you feeling under the weather when you acted a little off. Her hugs would be sweet and grounding. She didn't push it and waited until you'd say something to her. But when she witnessed you cry, seeing tears fall out of your eyes, she immediately ran to your side, tucking your hair behind your ears while she listened and waited as you cried your eyes out.

She'd give you a hug, offering words of comfort, holding your hand, anything you'd feel comfortable for her to do. It's a grounding feeling that lets you know you didn't have to face it all alone because she'd be there with you, holding your hand in hers.

“Are you okay? I can tell something is bothering you.. Do you want to talk about it?”

Leo Valdez would take a bit of a minute to realize, but it doesn't mean his skepticism wasn't bubbling inside. You told him you just had a cold and you were still recovering from it, hiding away your teary-eye while you aniffled.

He didn't want to push it out of you, but his concern was gnawing at him. He went to you, trying to cheer you up, to get a smile out of you. He patted your shoulder with a grin but concern flooded his eyes.

He'd be there for you, trying to listen, cracking up jokes whenever he thinks the mood is ready for it, but he's quick to shut it down if you told him to. He stayed right there while you ranted your heart out.

“Alright, something is clearly bothering you. What's up? Oh, right, the sky! ...Okay, that was a bad joke. Sorry. But really, what's wrong?”

Jason Grace tends to you delicately, trying not to say anything that might trigger your vulnerability. He threads carefully, choosing the right words he has in mind to offer the comfort you need. He doesn't want to make it worse than it already is and so he decided to just sit there and listen to you cry, a bit unsure on what to do.

But soon enough, he lets you bawl your eyes out on his shoulder. You could feel the warmth of his palms and his thumb brushing against the fabric of your shirt.

“Just let it all out. ...I'm here if you need someone, okay? Just.. let out everything you're feeling, I don't plan on going anywhere.”

Piper McLean understands it almost immediately. She could sense that something was bothering you. You were trying to brush it off as nothing which only lead to unusual quietness coming from you. It was the kind of quietness that Piper heard—the kind of sound that Piper immediately went to.

She'd plop herself down beside you and just soaking in the silence with you. If you asked her why she was there, she wouldn't respond at first, holding your hand as if to bring you back to reality, to let you know that you weren't exactly alone in that sorrowful silence,

Because she's willing to go there with you, to bathe in it for as long as you needed if it meant letting you know that someone was there for you and it would be her.

“No reason. I can tell something is bothering you. You don't need to tell me about it if you don't feel like it. But.. If you need an ear or just a presence to be there, I'm here.”

[lululuzzz08]

I STAND by this (btw i wrote this 23 military time so it might be messy and a bit crazy, i don’t have sources but.. most of the proof i got has been talked about on Tumblr, i’m not someone who thinks about this stuff without some sort of base. Unless it’s something i really wanna think about.)

I love Snape, he’s so intriguing and the only character i can properly relate to. I get what it feels to make bad choices that other people never forget. I feel like Snape is the perfect morally grey character that all us 2 thousand mistakes losers can relate to.

I hate how the marauder fandom hate Snape cause he’s mean to children and is “ugly”.. Like my guy is literally a rockstar with how he’s described!! HES NEVER EVEN CALLED UGLY. And then these curtain lovers (yes that was a Stranger things ref, link at bottom) Stan and bow down to characters with half a page of info! Don’t get me wrong, i love Eileen Prince (which i don’t see enough of) and Regulus black, all of that sort. But come on man… Barty jr is not an angel compared to Snape! Thats a canon fact, he’s a cold blooded murderer. Snape feels remorse! For Lily OR not, it wouldn’t matter cause the same was with Regulus. He betrayed Tom for his house elf, not muggleborns. Snape betrayed for his MUGGLEBORN childhood friend. Pretty similar huh?

Just because Snape is weird and had unrequited feelings who he never forgot doesn’t mean he’s a creep?? Also saying Snape would touch Harry like THAT if he looked like his mother is HELLA icky. Don’t take traumatized characters with flaws and make them worse. People who have been in Snape’s situation will feel like shit. If i hear one more person saying that crap I’m gonna go insane. Because it connects to a much worse problem in real life. Curtain lovers (i cant find a better name, its just so broad) have always blamed the “Losers” for unordinary or bad situations, stuff that doesn’t fit well. Or stuff the Curtain lovers messed up on. An example would be the past belief that witches lived among us. Now, i don’t want to bring real life situations into this, but hey, at least I’m not saying that Death eaters ARE the Nazi’s…

“Witches” consisted of people the curtain loving in command people (i would say government but idk if it was called that back then, oh well. I’ll just say curtain lovers) found a threat. People that were out of the ordinary. People that thought differently, that were WEIRD and easy to miss-understand. The curtain lovers would blame misfortunes on witches. Uncle Sam’s crops died? Sweetie call the priest cause it’s another darn witch! Oh I’m sorry Rebecca? You like books? As a woman?? I need to call the priest you filthy witch!

I know this might be a bit too deep for some god darn children books but saying Snape would SA Lily is such a dirty way to say you hate a character that you don’t even try to understand. It really dives into what type of person you are.

Also, hating Snape for being weird is SOO hypocritical. I mean, have you seen the other Harry Potter fans? Eughh.. I don’t even wanna think about the Tom Felton fans 🤢. That poor guy.

My point is that undermining a character is the least diverse thing you could do.

And the thing og blog said about Snape looking Jewish really adds to it. People really pick and take favorites. Leaving others to rot.

Hope you like this text. I might make a more proper argument in the future, its too darn late rn.

Marauders fans just be having double standards on the point they proud themselves the most on: Diversity

They be like "let's make James brown" (ik that it's in the whole fandom in general but ykwim) and reject the Jewish-looking guy

They be like "let's make Lily obese" and reject the underweight guy

They be like "let's make Regulus abused" and reject the canonically abused guy

They be like "let's make Regulus get groomed into joining the DEs" and reject the canonically groomed guy

They be like "let's make Barty's actions look right by saying it was for love" and reject the guy who did everything for the girl he loved (platonically or not)

Double standards, double standards everywhere.

Diversity only exists if Snape is not involved

[pawpiefawn]

𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻 𝓰𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓷 .𖥔 ݁ ˖

❤︎ alhaitham x reader 0.5k words walking through a flower garden with him. reupload + edited from my previous blog.

al haitham's walks are practical. they are never for fun, nor the love for sunshine or feeling the grass beneath his feet – his feet always have a place in mind. they take him where he needs to be. they had never walked with the lightness of romanticisation, nor with the whimsy or delightful for the fun of it –

– until you.

he's lighter– happier, even, now that this angel of a person sits across him with the most darling smile to grace his presence.

"would you care to accompany me on a walk?" al haitham asks one day, and he turns to meet your curious gaze. he can see a flicker of hope

"you'd like to go on a walk?" you push yourself off your seat at the counter. "i don't mind accompanying you."

"is it truly that surprising?" a soft sigh parts his lips – he looks almost disappointed, even. you tiptoe to press a sweet kiss to his cheek, smiling as you watch his features turn upwards in quiet delight.

ask him a year ago if he desired anything like this, and he might have scoffed lightly and turned away.

"no," you giggle and set your heels down. "i guess it's just not something you see every day."

silently, you grab his hand – it's so much bigger than yours – and you can feel him squeeze it a just little tighter today. his hands are warm and big, rough and calloused but they also fit perfectly with the curve of your hands. it's perfect.

al haitham looks happier, you think to yourself as the grass beneath your feet greets you with a gentle hello. the flowers sway in the afternoon breeze, and the sun seems to hide away a little, in fear of burning you – it's so pleasant outside today... perhaps he's in a good mood because of that?

you watch him as he hums softly, peering at the prettysome wildflowers below.

"come here," he motions, pointing you to look towards the flowers that sprouted up.

"there's so many, hayi. it's beautiful." you gasp softly, grasping onto his fingers tenderly.

he smiles, and mumbles something under his breath.

"what was that?" you tug on his arm, looking into his eyes. he looks almost embarrassed to say it louder. he clears his throat and glances back at the wildflowers.

"if i had a flower for every time i thought of you, i could walk through my garden endlessly."

you're standing there, pleasantly surprised– shocked, even– into silence. did you hear that right?

"eh?" is the only thing that leaves your lips.

"..forget i said anything, it's alright." al-haitham pats your head, albeit awkwardly – flushed and maybe the tiniest bit embarrassed.

he silently wishes he hadn't said anything at all– silly alhaitham, who was he for thinking that someone of his demeanour would ever pepper his words with that like a lovesick fool?

"nooooo, al haitham!" you whine softly, nuzzling against his shoulder. "that was so sweet! i was just .. taken aback, with how sweet your words were."

"is it not obvious enough how infatuated with you i am?" he rests his head atop yours, breathing lightly and lovingly squeezing you tighter.

the next thing he feels is a gentle, saccharine sweet kiss being pressed against his lips – he's hungry for more, now, ravenous even – like a monster yearning for an ounce of love. maybe he wouldn't mind being the lovesick fool, just this once, if it was you.

[mrs-kodzuken]

early christmas ⟢ rintarou s.

synopsis: you get an early christmas gift from your boyfriend and love it beyond no end, timeskip!suna x fem!reader, christmas time, fluff, short fic

“You've been on that thing forever, at this rate you’re likely to forget me soon.” Rin deadpanned, almost regretting buying that damned thing for you.

Almost.

He could see how happy it made you, especially now that when he got on the game with his friends, you weren’t completely lonely with your new switch lite.

Of course, Christmas was coming up but with being stuck in the house for days due to snow and not being able to make it to work, he knew the best solution for his dear girlfriend.

He watched carefully as you concentrated on digging perfect holes to place trees in, your face was definitely one to remember. He loved seeing your joy filled face as you explained the animal crossing terms to him, even though he'd probably forget half of them within the next hour.

"Uhh, nuh uh." you retorted, not even looking up at him from where he was standing. After Rintarou surprised you with an early Christmas present, even though the big day was less than a week away, you could not stop playing. It was like an excitement that was slowly becoming an addiction.

You took your nintendo lite with you everywhere, to the bathroom when taking long, relaxing baths, to the bar in the kitchen where you both eat breakfast.

And even so far as playing it in public during downtime if you both were able to leave the house. You loved every minute of your new game console, especially since it was in your favorite color too.

However, Suna had to draw some lines when you pulled an all-nighter playing your game because you 'just had to get something done'.

"I think it's mostly your fault though, you let me open it early, so." you trailed off, sticking your tongue out wherever you thought he was from your peripheral.

Your eyes stuck to your little character as she ran around the plaza trying to talk with every villager. You couldn’t help but to get so happy when you saw the Christmas decorations around your island. As well as hounding on your game for so long, day and night, you were able to make lots of progress.

You barely noticed that Suna sat down beside you on the king sized bed, his PS5 left on and if you really paid attention, you could hear his friends calling for him.

"Love, at least give me a kiss before you leave off into the island of Y/n." he joked, you tore your eyes away from the screen and started to feel bad in the way that you were ignoring your boyfriend.

"I'm sorry Rinnie, I just really love the game, but I'll be sure to take breaks and spend actual quality time with you." you promised, saving and putting your game console away.

The relief basically melted off of Suna, now he finally understands the other side of the story when he used to not pay enough attention to you when gaming.

"Thanks, love." he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, relishing in the fact that he could taste the leftover dark chocolate crumbs on your lips from when you snack as you play.

"You're such an angel, you know that right? My angel." he couldn't help the smile that broke out across his face when you laughed and rolled your eyes. You were such the purest sight ever to him, this is what he missed. Of course he loves when you have an enjoyable hobby but physical contact was so much better in his opinion.

"Want to ditch the games for the rest of the night and watch a Christmas movie with me?" you giggled into his black sweatshirt, it smelling of his fancy body wash that you gifted him as a 'just because' gift.

"Obviously, anything to spend more time with you love." he hopped up, turning off his own gaming console and sending a text to his group chat before lounging with you in bed.

After a small discussion on which streaming service, you both finally decided on Hulu to watch Elf.

As the movie played and the lights were dimmed in the bedroom, you got sentimental, watching Rintarou’s handsome features being lit up by the movie.

"You know, I'm really grateful for my gift. I love it." you said quietly, hiding your face even though you both have been together for almost four years now.

He squeezed you tighter to him, loving your small confession, his heart felt unbearably warm at the act.

"I'm glad love, only the best for you." he kissed your temple knowing that his small confession would ring true when he got the balls to get the ring box out of his sock drawer and pop the question.

But for now, he smiled and watched your reactions to the movie, wondering how he got so lucky. 

a/n: hihi! i've been obsessed with animal crossing lately, so sorry i've been inactive!! i hope you enjoy, and requests are open! <3

[miedei]

coming home

a/n: kind of stream-of-consciousness style in this one, just got the urge to write a cozy evening and the words flew away i think. tell me what you think of this because i’m not sure if it’s something i should continue for small drabbles like this, the atmospheric style is new to me

wc: .4k

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

mlist

Arriving home always went one of two ways for you. More often than not, the place would be silent, a blanket of quiet laid over the cozy apartment. You’d come in, flick on all of the lamps in the living room (not the overhead light, you were very adamant about that), make yourself some tea and plop yourself on the sofa with a book. Not a bad routine, all things considered. But the other way, the way you come home today, blows that out of the water.

The moment you toe open the door, it feels like tension has physically slid off your shoulders. The lights are on, you can smell the neroli scented candles burning, and the notes of Andante in C Minor float through the air towards you. It’s clear the heaters have been on, a pleasant warmth seeping through you as you take off your shoes. However, it seems like the cause of all this warmth hasn’t noticed your arrival yet. Creeping through the hallway on socked feet, you hear a soft humming emanating from the kitchen, the smells of tomato soup entangled with it.

The door of the kitchen is ajar, warm light from countless flea market lamps spilling out through the crack. As if unconsciously, a hand reaches in front of you to push the door open further, and it feels like an angel has lifted you off your exhausted feet.

Because, on days like these, you come home to him. A broad-shouldered silhouette is framed with rays of light, and no matter if the posture is hunched, weary, or world-worn, it is Spencer, and it is home.

Long fingers are tangled in your hair and the scent of belonging envelops you, a sigh bubbling up out of your lungs.

Your feet advance into the light, coming up behind him, and oh!

He’s heard you, and he’s turned around and his arms are open and this feels so right.

Words are exchanged, ladles are cradled to your mouth ‘just for a taste’, lips meet, and suddenly it feels like even breathing is euphoric.

[dtchloedecker]

"He's a stereotypical, two dimensional bad guy," Chloe said, ignoring what Lucifer was implying because she REALLY didn't want him to spiral again. She laughed through her nose at what he said about his parents. "I guess they did," she agreed. "You said something around the time we met that we're both legacy babies. I think you might be right....not that I'm comparing myself to the arch angel Lucifer or anything, but..." Although, Lucifer had definitely been through way worse than she had.

Chloe rolled over so she was on her back and Lucifer was lying on top of her. He wasn't crushing though. He was more like a warm weighted blanket. Unfortunately, it reminded her once again that he was shirtless in her bed. It really shouldn't be a big deal. She'd seen him naked way more times than she wanted to. Hell, they were at a nudist colony yesterday and he wasted no time stripping down until the only thing he was wearing was his wing. So, him only being half naked shouldn't be a big deal.

But the circumstances were different. He wasn't standing in front of her with a salacious look on his face trying to get her to sleep with him. He was lying in bed with her just wanting to be close to her, holding her. And here she was, thinking about running her hands and lips all over his body. As if it had a mind of its own, she rested her hand on his shoulder and gently dragged her fingers down his back, but then she stopped halfway when she realized where she was. She was about to apologize when she realized something. "What happened to your scars?"

@lucifermorningstxr

Lucifer simply shrugged with a smirk at Chloe's response to his commentary. "To each their own, Detective. That apocalypse bit though..." His brow raised as he continued, "that's another story. We'll see how that works out for him. They always love being monsters... until they don't." What could've been a deeper emotional moment in the wake of recent events was simply a brief comment as the pair's contact eased any and all apprehensions the night could've brought. The Devil found it easy to discuss these things with his human in a way that he'd never felt with another. All part of the vulnerability, right? Be the topic about monsters, divinity, Heaven and Hell, or the simply mortal concepts of friendship and partnership, with Chloe, Lucifer was an open book. That being said, even with his perpetual honest always the forefront, he didn't want her to feel dismissed. That's right, for once in his eons, Lucifer saw someone as his equal, maybe even higher than him, and he deeply cared about her thoughts, feelings, and opinions now and always. "No, I get it, Detective. Just because I'm a fan of her work doesn't mean she's as perfect as she sees. Not too different than my own parents, if you think about it. Mine paved the way."

Chloe couldn't have been cuter if she tried, and as far as Lucifer was concerned, that's why she was so damn cute. Because she wasn't trying, and neither was he. After all these years, to be with one another sans pretense and share that vulnerability like only they could was perfect beyond comprehension. "You're welcome, Detective. And thank you too." Every muscle was in exercise to resist the desire to kiss his human. "Thank you for making me a better man." Relishing in her presence, Lucifer simply smiled into their contact, a beast at ease in this moment with his human.

[glitter-stained]

Another day another ask mysteriously disappearing from my inbox when i'm about to hit post on the reply

Anyway the question was basically "what do you think of the "Jason isn't able to get over his death while bruce is capable of forgiving joe chill and sitting by him as he dies" take and doesn't it sound a little like the "everybody died he ain't special " take?"

Why yes. Yes it does sound like that. My thoughts on that idea, in no particular order:

- it's almost 2025 are we still placing moral judgement on characters based on the comparison between how they're enduring their trauma what happened to the universal singularity of human suffering what happened to not comparing apples and bananas weren't we taught not to do that in elementary school

-Is this about the Three Joker comics? It sounds like it is, anyway uh that comics is not mainline (and has pretty shitty writing imo), in mainline even in his least flattering runs (ie Battle for the Cowl) Jason hasn't gone postal because of his death in a while (in BTFC it was Bruce's death and the mention of the "unresolved dark horrors of his childhood" triggering a bad parody of some sort of psychotic break) so like i guess criticizing Jason for something he isn't doing is kinda strange

-if anything Bruce is the one "not over" Jason's death considering the flashback he had right at the beginning of Failsafe arc (though of course demanding he just gets over the trauma of holding his dead son's corpse is just as absurd as demanding Jason gets over the trauma of having died)

-honestly staying by Chill's side as he died was pretty cool and heroic on Bruce's part, totally agreed, that was badass of him to not let him die alone despite his trauma. That being said can we please stop tying morality to the concept of forgiveness? Implying there's a goodness of heart to forgiving/getting over your trauma is weird, it way too puch pressure on the victim, we should stop with the "good victim/bad victim" narrative, martyrdom culture is harmful. If forgiving Chill helped Bruce, cool for him, Jason is in no obligation to forgive Joker, and also Bruce forgiving Chill =/= staying by his side as he died, those are two separate things

-if we're comparing coping we have to compare resources, what does Jason's support system at that time compared to Bruce? Should we make a tally to see who has more friends especially close ones? We both know who will win but also that it's a completely stupid and pointless arrangement, how many apples and oranges must we compare before we conceptualize that it's not the same fruit?

-in terms of personal taste, I find placing moral judgement on characters is about the least interesting analysis angle I can imagine, like, congrats, you've established Angel McPerfect is a better person than Asshole McInteresting! Now multiply me by one and subtract zero.

-kinda hilarious to criticise Jason for not getting over his death and compare that to the coping of a man who dresses as a bat to cope with something that happened thirty years ago. Like if he's so over his trauma why is he wearing pointy ears

-also, obviously, the idea that characters should just "get over their trauma" is insanely dumb. Trauma is like a wound. It can scar, if treated properly, and then the scar will always be there. Imagine telling someone they should get cosmetic surgery because "we get it, you got stabbed, you don't have to shove it in my face every time I look at you." Or telling someone whose wound got infected "why can't you be more like this guy? Look, his stab wound is all healed nice and clean by now. It's like you're not even trying !"

Anyway I hope that answers your question and you have a good day anon, I agree with you that that take is weird, I truly don't understand the reasoning beside "i don't like jason". Idk maybe these people just need to...chill.

[babylunasstuff]

Can you imagine Simon finding out he’s going to be a dad?

He’d be gone on a mission when you realize, your period is late. You’d pass it off as stress related until you start feeling sick, getting these weird cravings of things you detested.

So you’d take a test and gasp five minutes later when it comes back positive. Now, you know Simon didn’t want kids just yet. He wanted to wait just a little longer. Wanted to buy you your dream house so he could fill it with little angels.

You’d spend your days in his clothes, stressing how you’d break the news to him. Even thinking of keeping it hidden for a while. That is, until he came home.

See, when he was on his mission, he had such a close call with death and it was different than the other times. Usually he’d stare death in the face and tell him to piss off but he was too close to breaking his promise of coming back to you.

You’d always make him promise to come back to you. In one piece preferably. His last run in with the shadowy figure made him open his eyes.

So when he’d come home, he dropped his bags and immediately went to seek you out, beginning to panic when he didn’t see you anywhere in the house. He’d call out your name, waiting for a response but got nothing in return.

He pull out his phone to call you but he heard the front door open, your cursing as you struggle with the many bags. He’d sigh in relief and immediately help you, chuckling as he startled you.

You’d jump and shriek because why is there a man in your house but then- oh.. it’s your husband.. oh okay.

Wait-

It’s your husband!

You’d gasp and drop the bags, hugging him tightly and he’d hug you back even tighter. You both mutter how much you both missed each other before he’d pull away, looking down at you.

Something was different.

He’d hug you again just to see what it was but couldn’t for the life of him figure it out. He pushed it to the back of his mind as you began recapping your day and asking about his mission as you both put the groceries away.

You were putting away the dairy when he stopped responding so you turned to him, freezing when he saw a few baby items. He picked up a pacifier and looked at you.

…

…

It was silent before you sighed softly and looked away nervously, not knowing how to just say ‘I’m pregnant’

He stared at you, waiting for an explanation but when you were silent, he approached you “sweetheart…” he’d mumble softly in his grumbly voice.

You’d look up at him, nervousness clear in your eyes as he asked “you’re carrying..?”

You’d nod your head and look away, not seeing his eyes light up. True he did want to wait but he’s always wanted kids with you. That just meant he’d have to do things sooner but that’s okay. Anything for his wife.

He’d take you in his arms and hold you tightly as he asked “how far along?”

You’d bury your face in his chest for a moment before speaking “two months…”

He’d be shocked but he’d be happy. His arms would tighten around you and he’d be smiling as his chin rested on your head. He was excited that he would be a father. Worried he wouldn’t be a good one but he had you. And you two could conquer the world together let alone parenthood.

He’d pull away when you ask “you’re not mad?” He’d look at you and kiss you in response. He wasn’t mad at all. He’d do anything for you and his baby.