#angel blades are a given because they are Part Of The Angel. they want to be with their angel. they're loyal. to turn one against the owner

[quietwingsinthesky]

anthropomorphizes angel blade anthropomorphizes the tablet anthropomorphizes the bunker anthro-

[girlsoutlate]

thinking about nikto that is more a glorified guard dog than human, let alone your lover.

fem reader, animalistic language, mentions of past sex between reader and nikto, unwanted sexual remarks made about reader (nikto sorts them out dw), nikto is a FREAK

you're too nice for him. not soft, you couldn't be with him. he would get over-excited and greedy. you were firm, but never too strict. you had to give your mutt some leniency, he'd never dreamed being spoilt by a beauty like you. with kindness and patience you coaxed him from being brash and hypervigilant to pathetically obedient.

some small part of nikto is confused at the change, how could a thing like him be doted on by someone like you? his mind just as warped and scarred as the stretched skin that covered his body. compared to your angelic self he almost felt ashamed of believing he was deserving of your love. almost. but he didn't question your compassion, for once the world had given him something good.

instead of returning to his bare kennel of a flat, he returned home to you. the glow of your presence had seeped in to your now shared home, an array of your trinkets as well as belongings scattered about. as he opened the front door his pale eyes latched onto your supple body, surrounded by halo of light from the bulb behind. gliding down the hallway your features changed to furrowed brows and slightly parted dewy lips as you took note of his bloody knuckles and ragged breathing. meeting his eyes through your lashes you brought a manicured up to pet the side of his masked face. he lent in to it, rubbing the harsh material of his mask against your smooth hand. "nikto, are you okay?" you asked, melodic voice soothing the never-ending raucous in his head. you didn't ask what happened, it was typically for a good cause, even if he got a little too enthusiastic. you just wanted to make sure your loyal dog wasn't too injured. besides, a little roughing up can be quite beneficial.

nikto could deal with comment and looks towards himself. he had always had to deal with them. from his hazy childhood memories, to his return from torture. but no one could whisper your name without a bark of threat from nikto. more often than not he followed through. you were closely guarded in niktos heart at all times. his devotion to you was not a secret, and neither was your existence to those close enough to him. instead, your name was the holiest prayer a sorry man could utter. your existence proof that there was sanctuary. so, if anyone acted maliciously towards you they better pray your forgiveness extends to them. because niktos bite was worse than his bark.

thats what happened earlier today. some dolts commented on your salacious body when you dropped off some documents nikto left at home. it made his blood run hot. their unrestrained remarks over your full curves and cherubic face pervaded his ears. he hated it. hated hearing them jest about the fat of your ass. that was for him to sink his fangs in to. or when they fantasised of using your plush tits for their own pleasure. they were for nikto to nuzzle at and suckle on. he almost gutted them right there when they innocently complimented your gossamer hair to your face. that was for nikto to snatch when he mounted you, desperate to show you he was good enough to have you like that. back arched while stray strands of hair fell across your shoulder blades, muscles quivering with pleasure. the plumpness of your ass bounced and rippled off his narrow hips, his mushroom tip kissing your cervix with more aggression each time. chanting your name with a growl he pawed the fat of your hips, stretchmarks littered with bites and bruises. nikto fucked you with fervour, he was all yours. it made it that much more unfortunate when you pulled him aside just before you left base, asking if he heard the comments too.

so when he came home half an hour later with bloody knuckles you didnt ask what he did. you could count on your dog to protect you, he was more than happy to serve you. it gave his life a further meaning from death and war. you gave him a meaning. he replied to your concerned question with a husky grunt. gesturing him to follow, you turned and walked down the hall with the soft pad of his footsteps just behind.

"sit." you said, nodding towards the kitchen table "i put our dinner in the oven to stay warm, we'll eat after i've patched up your hands". he gave a short nod. he thought you were so selfless, choosing to look after him first rather than yourself. as you picked up the first aid kit off the counter that was always in easy reach, nikto let out a soft growl that was only reserved for you.

"moya lyubov, missed you"

thanks for reading!! likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, i hope you enjoyed it :)) i am more than happy to give this apart 2 if your heart so desires

this is my first time writing anything resembling smut so i hope it isn't too cringe LOLL felt like i had a bloody brain aneurysm when i wrote it for like the fifth time

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Surprise visit with needs

modern!Aemond x servant!reader

warning : +18, smut, mommy issues, breast play, thigh job (humping), implied age gap (Aemond is in his 20s and reader in her 30s), hurt/comfort, family problems, aemond needs reassurance, kissing, fluff, no use of y/n, nicknames : Ma'm/Mommy/Muse

Summary : Just because you're the second son of the rich Targaryen family doesn't mean you're automatically a somebody. Ignored by his father and mother, Aemond takes the path as a musician, but after a small concert but all the more the cries and accusations of his parents he comes back home exhausted, broken but above all looking for comfort a comfort that only one can give him…

info : OMG the pictures i mean all like how beautiful can someone be an angel, my muse he is so pretty and deserves only more photos thanks for the help in choosing the reader and i wish everyone a lot of fun reading ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night was cool too late to even call it evening but still too early to herald the morning. A time when no one was on the streets anymore and no one wanted to be in King's Landing even though the city was large with many neighbourhoods and their histories it was still a city riddled with poverty, brutality and the power of the youth who held various parties and concerts every night in the pubs and various factory buildings.

A city that had stood for hundreds of years and had always belonged to them, the dragons as they were called because of the family crest that dated back to the Middle Ages when they conquered the city with fire and had ruled ever since.

The Targaryen family silver haired beauties with more money and influence than you could imagine whether it was the sea routes of trade through the Velaryons or the other influential families like the Baratheons or Arryns it was a family that had many members but above all the family had a black sheep, one member that stood out.

One son is good he is the heir but the second son he is like a shadow never really important always second and never the hope of the future no matter how well he learnt or trained with the sword no matter how many times Aemond met his older brother with the blade no matter how many tournaments and medals he brought back home it never seemed enough never even close.

So he withdrew, though still part of the time, when his father or mother, even his grandfather, or his teacher Criston demanded it, he was there like a ‘dog’, but each time it came back differently less gold more free dragon….at least that's what he thought.

A free dragon who did what he wanted to do, a guitar on his leg playing and his lips on the microphone he entertained the city that had given him more than once what the rich son needed and wanted, on his hands the silver rings and the dragon tattoo on his arm and yet at the end of the day.

When the moon was over the city and the dark alleys were only slightly illuminated, he was still dressed in gold when he went back through the high, thick iron gate and was always let in by the servants or sneaked in.

But then the fire of his parents' disappointment hardly hurt him anymore, it was more the threat that he would take away his guitar and send him away to his great cousin or whatever Rhaenys was related to in order to “get some fresh air�� by the sea, as his father always glossed over it.

He sometimes avoided the older man's gaze, sometimes held his own, but all Aemond saw was a rich old man who had overreached himself and couldn't really see what his well-born family was really going through.

But the thing that hurt the most when he looked in his room helpless on the bed and the guitar next to him was hearing his mum's footsteps his mum standing in the open door her disappointment ,,I really thought you were better matured than Aegon I am disappointed Aemond everything is already complicated and you are making it worse" her words clearly audible in the room but he tried not to hear them.

The green and gold always showing the colours of her family, her blood that she always carried close to her and that he himself had worn most of the time but now everything just seemed so monotonous and overwhelming.

He just nodded slightly and looked down at the pain of his scar throbbing, stabbing, disturbing him saying that he was a bad prince a bad son a disappointment before the door closed and he was alone in the room alone with his feelings but most of all with no one to turn to.

I've given everything mother he thought he wanted to tell her but knew it wasn't enough and instead sighed trying to distract himself with his guitar and record collection but after the time of self-pity, hatred and insecurity his stomach grumbled.

He heard the confused growl of Vhagar lying on her dog basket, an old wolfhound that had belonged to his grandfather and just seemed to be going through the motions, a friend when he needed to get out of the castle and someone soft to cheer him up even if it was just rolling the ball back and forth, but when he was hungry Vhagar couldn't help much.

,,Umbās Vhagar I'll be right back’ he commanded the dog in the old language from the former land from which his ancestors supposedly came, but it had been lost for centuries and nothing more than ruins of Valyria remained, but even his ancestors would not help him.

Opening the door to the long hallway, he could hear his brother's snoring even through the door, but above all he could smell the odour of grass and beer, the typical smell of the heir to the throne, ,,How beguiling," he murmured cynically and turned his eyes to see the small ray of light under the room next to his and he calmed down slightly.

His dear sister Helaena was not awake, not a rarity as her interests, which were centred on insects and nature, only allowed few public appearances like his only when necessary.

He had no interest in her insects but he enjoyed her company when he wrote a book of new songs and listened to her thoughts that she spoke to him, some of which he turned into songs and gave her as a birthday present, a thing that always made her happy.

But ignoring his family, knowing that his father was asleep and his mother was probably on another floor for a ‘meeting’ with Criston Cole, he had a clear and safe route down to the first floor where the large open-plan kitchen and living room were located.

The walls honoured the family with old murals of legends and legends of dragons and the taking of King's Landing by his ancestor Aegon and his sisters' wives Visenya and Rhaenys, a legend and story with truth and fantasy that he could learn and interpret in contrast to Aegon whose face he had to see again as he looked at the large family picture but turned his image away from the black and white photograph.

Emotions welled up in him again and he twisted the silver rings on his fingers trying to turn away from the pain of his scar and his mind as he saw the moon shining into the kitchen, his only companion on the way back and oh now there was only one person who would see him.

Still and quiet it was in the house not loud and full of life like the old bar he had played in where people cheered and cheered and listened to him and he felt somehow loved as his body shook with his own voice and the vibration of his guitar.

It was freedom, a life he should have and actually was allowed to have because as a second son he was good for nothing but looking good when his parents needed him to, he was no hope and would never matter.

His emotions boiled inside him as he ripped open the door to the fridge and after grabbing the first best thing he could after what he wanted again he took out the bottle of milk and slammed the door shut again and turned to the pull out cupboard and just took the cereal and poured it into a bowl the little tinkling of the single oat flakes and other dried seeds were almost like music.

But the sounds drowned in the milk as the crunchy sound of chewing kept coming up in the silence and the rich prince sat down on the kitchen counter with the bowl in front of him and brought the spoon to his mouth again and again, savouring the taste of the ice-cold milk with the cereal it felt like the only thing he had eaten after breakfast in the morning before sneaking out again.

It was like this almost every day, sometimes only every other day when he was forced by his mum to join the family or even attend the visit of his half-sister and her family, a thing he hated and his tongue always made a cynical comment to his half-nephew Lucerys.

It may have all been an accident back then, playing around with the sharp letter opener and naive children but the damage was done and now he wore either the black eye patch or the dark blue sapphire prosthetic eye, his injury the only good thing was that his mum was with him again for a long time.

Her voice soft with a hint of worry but mostly love and apology when she held his hand, stroked his head and always gave him a gentle kiss on the head before falling asleep but most of all she was proud of him to get through this being as strong as a dragon for a small moment he had seen that she wished so much that he had become Aemond the firstborn and not his brother Aegon.

But that wish and that time had been over for more than a decade and so now he sat here almost laughing at the irony of it all and yet he seemed to feel the tingling on his skin where she had always touched him, given him comfort whether he was really hurting or lying it didn't matter as long as his mother loved him and wasn't disappointed it didn't seem to matter.

Lost in his thoughts about the time of comfort and love, he noticed too late the footsteps coming towards him from the dark of the house, the woman coming towards him, the high heels making a clacking sound and the dark uniform with white embroidery was an image he saw every day, but even so, when the older woman said ,,Good evening Aemond" he winced violently and dropped the spoon into the bowl, the milk splashing slightly and sticking to the ends of his hair.

His eyes went from the spilt milk to her and he saw that she was still wearing her uniform, she always wore it, there didn't seem to be a day or night when she didn't wear it.

The black dress that went up to her thighs, the dark nylon tights sometimes white or blending in with her skin and clinging to her legs, the black high heels she could run in and often did when his brother threatened to throw up on the carpet and she had to practically carry Aegon into the bathroom.

But the white embroidery on the edge of her dress and on her wrists bright white pure innocent fabric that never had a stain she always seemed to be the purest thing in the house, no the purest thing in his family.

,,Good evening…Miss" he replied and swallowed to moisten his drying throat which didn't quite work so he tried to take a spoonful of the milk which didn't quite work either as half of it was in his dark hair and on the kitchen counter.

As always, she smirked, her lips a slight smile and her voice revealing joy and slight infatuation when the prince addressed a simple servant as Miss, but he had been doing this too since she had been here for as long as he could remember, she was there for them all and especially for him, ,,I could have made you something proper" she said casually and came up to him he saw her casually drop a silver thimble into her dress pocket.

His mother had always insisted on having her clothes hand-tailored by her and it had to be extravagant but it took a bit of time she only had at night or in the morning.

,,No need I just wanted something small" he lied and he saw her briefly sceptical look as she looked at him and still turned away to grab a drying cloth and held it under the tap she wiped the milk off the kitchen counter and he only now realised how close she was to him.

He blocked the stains but she only briefly put a hand on his wrist and signalled him to stay seated but instead of continuing to eat his food he couldn't help but feel the warmth on his leg and side as she moved to clean him, her warm soft body pressing against him again and again.

Aemond almost flinched when she used the drying towel to lightly dry his hair and a few of the stains on his khaki trousers and the light-coloured helmet to make it easier to wash, ,,Don't-you don't have to do it," he tried to stop her but she put his hand aside and took the bowl from his hand.

He almost felt stupid just sitting here, being served everything like his brother and having everything given to him but…now just as she put the cloth aside and gave him an almost motherly look, ,,Don't you? Oh Aemond how many times has it happened now mhh?" she asked him alluding not only to their nightly meetings but also to the nights and mornings when he had to deal with his parents, his feelings were hurt and a broken boy who could never lie in his mother's arms again longed for exactly that.

A prince who wanted to be king in the shadow of his brother and would never be of the same value again, a maimed prince who deep inside longed for something he would never get again.

,,I-I wanted to apologise he threatened me again but mother her disappointment burned like a fire" he admitted slowly lowering his head he looked at the soiled clothes and he felt the lump in his throat as he thought of his mother's look again.

She only seemed to look at him like that for the last few months and weeks since the day he had dyed his light hair black and taken care of his business but since then Alicent hadn't even hugged or touched her second son. It was as if he didn't exist and he longed for more physical contact night after night.

No one appreciated him in what he did, no one appreciated her, it was she who had taught him to play the guitar, had practised with him, had given him a hug after his first concert instead of the shouting of his parents and the jokes of a brother that Aemond Taryren preferred to socialise with the common people rather than the big crowd.

But she like a ghost was always with him even when the tears rolled down his cheek when his mother hurt him like no one else could, ,,I'm sure she would have understood, I get it you were looking for fun, recognition and love is normal no shame" her voice replied softly.

Not a hint of reproach to be heard in it as her hand laid on his cheek her fingers caressed his skin and he slowly closed his eye and snuggled up to her hand. Warm and soft as everything of hers she always welcomed him into her arms as he leaned his head against the crook of her neck.

She always smelled of sweet biscuits and warm clothes, a smell that represented a mother to him, a sense of security that he so wanted to have again, ,,I was never good enough," she heard the words that had probably plagued him all evening as his fingers wrapped around her, he squeezed her and she held him, stroking his back and he slowly, slowly pressed himself closer to her, trying to push his neediness straight towards her.

,,Shhh don't say that for me you've always been more than enough Aemond,’ she made him hear what he needed, what he wanted before he lifted his head to look at her his eye dark in the night seemed to slowly replace itself with lust and desire before he came closer to her just waiting for her consent which she gave him with a nod before he pressed his lips to hers.

His fingers that were on her tightened not tearing at her fabric yet he seemed afraid she would leave him, let go like his mother that she would never hold him his sigh sent a shiver down her spine as his centre slowly pressed against her thigh as she stood practically between his legs.

The cold leather of his black jacket fell away from his shoulders as she slipped it off, ,,I'm only here for you," she told him again, slightly breathless as she ran her fingers over his lip and kissed his scar, noticing the twitching of his skin with excitement and arousal.

His reaction warmed his cheeks and he closed his eye enjoying this special kind of love on something grotesque like him and she almost thought she heard a whimper from him, ,,You love me" he said but she knew it was more of a question than a statement her fingers trying to reach his shirt were held by him almost shaking with ignorance.

,,Of course I love you like a mother loves her child, a dragon loves fire or humans love money…in the end I will be everything you want me to be Aemond," she reminded him, still reminding him of the reality he was in with her, where they were and what it would mean if they were discovered.

Their eyes met she almost thought she saw tears in his eyes until she saw a slight smile of satisfaction his lips kissed her hands and he nuzzled her lips again seeking another kiss to get close to her and savour her love.

Her fingers opened his shirt slightly and stroked his unblemished skin massaging his taut muscles slightly and a relieved moan came over his lips, ,,That's it, just relax my love," she whispered, her lips lightly kissing his neck and sometimes her fingernails leaving red streaks that seemed to burn like fire for a moment.

She noticed his own efforts at arousal as he slowly rubbed against her thigh while his hands pushed her dress up just a bit, he would never expose her the way Aegon had tried several times.

She was his muse, the substitute for a mother's comfort or simply a past of his own that he wished he could have had longer, ,,May I? " he asked as his fingers travelled up her dress, gently making small circles or scratches as he felt her underwear under the fabric but his fingers were on the top of her dress.

However, she realised herself that with his touches and kisses, her body was also reacting to him, the slight arousing throbbing in her middle, the tingling in her body that made her nipples slowly harden and she could see very well that even in the low light that his eye had fixed on her breasts, her nipples were pressing lightly against the fabric, even the bra couldn't hide it, ,,Of course you can," she gave Aemond permission and pulled back from him, giving him what he wanted as his skilful fingers pulled the fabric of her dress down slightly to rest against her bra.

She smirked as she saw his brief puzzlement in his eye her bra was the same dark sapphire colour as his eye but it seemed to please the prince for a moment creating a smirk, ,,A pretty colour" he murmured.

His fingers ran with a light pressure over the lacy bra feeling her goose bumps the warm soft skin but most of all he enjoyed her sigh and encouragement as he lightly massaged her breasts, these full-on encounters had happened too often for him not to know what she liked.

The prince had been too busy with her and what would have been a shame a hundred years ago seemed to be just another bad joke in his whole weird family, ,,Always so hasty," she murmured as he pulled down the lacy fabric covering her nipples faster than usual and looked at her nipples and he immediately let go of her apologetically, she saw how it unsettled him as it reminded him of the question of whether he had done something wrong.

But just as quickly a moan came from his lips and a closing of his eyes as her hand went to his bump and stroked his hardness, ,,But a good boy no matter if you hurry go ahead Aemond I'm not going anywhere" she assured him and her other hand twisted one of the silver rings on his before she picked it up and kissed it sucking lightly and seeing with satisfaction that his cheeks had darkened another shade.

The tightening of his groin replaced his mind of uncertainty with lust as she slowly let go of him and gave herself to him again she let him do it felt him turn to her breasts again for a moment before she let out a throaty moan as his lips came to her nipple almost cautiously knowing what he was doing was shameful like his brother had done in the past but her hand on his head playing with the dark hair assuring him it was okay he closed his eye.

His body relaxed, his breathing steady and the slight sucking sound could be heard as he sucked on her nipple, his fingers massaging the other and her hand caressing him as he rubbed against her thigh every now and then a stifled moan and grunt could be heard.

She knew he would love to have something, something she could not give him until her body was in a certain state but such a thing the dutiful Aemond would never do, Aegon yes but the shame he would bring would be impossible.

Instead he made do with what he had his change was clear to see the uncertainty and hatred and disappointment was gone a broken prince relaxed in the arms of a mother figure he loved in a way even though they were not related.

It was a different kind of affection yet it was an affection a feeling that went with lust ,,So good my muse" she heard his murmur as he looked up at her as she saw lust and gratitude in the dark eye a look of a rich man fallen deep from his dragon fallen.

Her hand brushed from his head over his scar again and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead as she stroked him a little faster, ,,Anything for a good boy," she replied and pressed him against her again, letting him take the pace of his arousal as he rubbed himself against her again and again, following the high as he almost rocked back and forth as if she were holding him properly in her arms.

But he didn't let go of her, he continued to give himself to her, to this secure hold, to the arousal, and she heard his lustful sounds more and more steamed as he rubbed himself against her faster and she kept whispering to him how good he was.

How good and a good boy he was for her, she knew that Aemond needed this and even if the limit of the one-time had long since been crossed, they both knew that it couldn't last forever.

No matter it didn't matter because in the lust her words were lost in his foggy mind where he was trembling with lust holding on to her ,,I-I gonna-ah please" she heard his ragged words barely intelligible in the noise of the large room and yet she knew he was close to his climax the heavy rushed breathing, the needy look in his eye when he looked up at her through his lashes the lust soaked gaze nothing but neediness could be seen.

Her hand played with the lengths of his hair knowing he would wait for her for the words she made him do the neediness before she murmured ,,Come for mummy" to him the whimper and groan he heard as he buried his head in the crook of her neck with a jerk and held on to her and for a moment seemed to forget everything around him.

A sight of shame, lust and embarrassment would see them both like this but it was egall it was egall that he needed her in a perverse way that was not lustful, it was egall that she was above him and could command him if she wanted to because as soon as he broke away from her he was Aemond Targaryen the second prince and millionaire again and she was nothing more than the nameless servant.

She took her hands from him after a few minutes and felt him almost grumble as he lost her warmth, lost her security and devotion, ,,Don't…don't leave me," she heard his voice softly, barely more than a whisper as he reached for her wrist but she pulled it away and adjusted her bra and dress before taking his face in her hands.

The brightness of his eyes returning as the night slowly threatened to end and the royal house of Targaryen would return to ‘normality’ she gently stroked his scar, ,,I am here Aemond call me and I am here ask for me and I am here I will always be here if you need me my prince" she replied and gave him one last kiss on his bruised skin before pulling away from him.

She took the drying towel and the leather jacket with her she would wash the rest of his clothes during the day she heard the clacking of her shoes as he scurried from the kitchen counter ,,Good night" he said after her again it seemed almost ironic to say it now when they had spent the last few hours together and yet he heard her laugh heard her amused laugh which pleased his own comfort.

,,Good night my Prince Aemond I am proud of you…and your last concert’ she said back to him as she gave him one last smile and the younger wondered if she had been in the crowd that liked him at all his concerts so far.

With the sun slowly rising, maybe it really did seem like she was always by his side when he needed her and she was there to rescue him from the ruthlessness of his family into her own dragon fire.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@vipervixxen , @thefangirlsblog , @rl-nancyholbrook , @reylatargaryen

[theyapper0]

FIRST PART OF "FINALE"

(There are 5 parts to this 😊)

The finale starts the day before the Extermination.

Charlie is sitting on the roof of the Hotel, all the Sinners they've recruited are all bustling about the parking lot, talking amongst themselves and setting up their reinforcements for the Examination tomorrow. 

Charlie is staring down worriedly at a family photo in her hand. The photo is old and tattered and there's a permanent cross shaped crease on it from all the folding and unfolding it's gone through. It was a photo of a framed painting that was in her old house before she left home.

(I'm NAWT writing out the whole first EP, that's way too much work LOL. Just know that in the beginning of it, instead of Charlie reading from that story of Lucifer and Lilith, she's just looking at a family photo of the 3 of them)

Charlie didn’t know what she was going to do. EVERYTHING has basically been leading up to this Extermination, the first BI-YEARLY Extermination… She has to protect the Hotel, she has to protect Vaggie, she has to protect EVERYONE, because if she doesn't…. 

Heaven will move onto all of Hell…

This wasn't just a standard Extermination anymore, this was war. 

And losing wasn't an option. 

But this wasn’t what she wanted! The whole point of getting in contact with Adam, with HEAVEN, was to STOP the killing! Now they have weapons deadly enough to kill ANGELS.

Not only are the people of Hell going to get killed, but the people of Heaven are as well…. 

Charlie doesn’t want to hurt anybody. She doesn’t want ANYONE, Heaven or Hell, to die! It wasn’t right, war only creates more bloodshed! 

When she and Vaggie went to Heaven, she thought they were FINALLY making progress- especially after befriending Emily! But…. That all crashed and burned and somehow things grew even WORSE.

Does all Charlie know how to do is make situations worse?

Vaggie comes up on the roof and they talk. 

Vaggie TOTALLY understood where Charlie was coming from, not because she relates, but because she KNOWS Charlie.

(Honestly Vaggie can't wait to SLAUGHTER some angels but Charlie would probably explode into a bajillion million pieces right now if she said that)

Vaggie has a huge vendetta against Heaven still, she has NOT made peace w that shit yet.

Charlie still gives the same(ish) speech as she does in canon. That's all basically the same :P

They still have their (basically end of the world) party and it's LIT 

While that's going on, in Heaven, Adam and Lute are talking about the Extermination that will be happening the next day. 

Adam has a bad feeling about the Cleansing, he doesn’t think they should go through with it….

Nothing has felt right to him ever since Charlie and Vaggie came to Heaven, ever since Emily took Charlie's side, ever since the Trail where he revealed the truth about…. 

Lute tells him that they must, these Cleansings are direct orders given by God

Lute: Don’t you trust him, Sir?

“Of course I do!” Adam says!! ”Of course I do…”

Adam trusts God, he trusts HEAVEN with everything he has. His feelings on this mess doesn't matter, what’s important is that he does what he's told, that he does what needs to get done.

Look at what happened when he diverted course, when he let his emotions get too out of control. Bad things happen and it makes everything worse…

Adam can't afford to mess up again... 

He needs to nip this in the bud. 

THE NEXT DAY. 

DAY OF EXTERMINATION. 

So everyone is fighting and kicking ass. 

Everything is going well and everyone’s doing what they’re supposed to ASIDE from Charlie who isn't killing the Exorcists, she’s really only disarming and knocking them out.

Every so often during the battle, Charlie will cross paths with one of her allies, who will be egging her on to KILL THE MOTHERFUCKERS!!!! 

She keeps ignoring it. 

Alastor is still going to go up against Adam. Alastor is cocky and arrogant, believing that he could best Adam without so much as a single Angelic blade, he won't be able to kill Adam no matter how powerful he believes himself to be.

Adam makes the comparison to Lucifer, “Prideful and full of uncharted wrath! And you know what happened to HIM!”

Alastor: You can't fall to Hell if you're already there! 

While Alastor and Adam fight, the Exorcist Angels that Charlie had simply been knocking out are beginning to wake back up and join the battle again! 

Her method didn’t do anything but make everyone have to work that much harder. 

Then Husk, occupied by fending off three or four Exorcists, is struck down by another swooping in. 

The Exorcist knocks him down and presses their weapon to his throat. There was nowhere to run, other Angels he was fighting had circled around him and knocked his own weapons out of his hands. 

And it happened in a moment, far too fast for regular eyes to see. 

One moment Husk was staring up at a faceless soldier, prepared to meet his end. And the next-

A clawed hand, once white but now gold with blood, was stuck straight through the Angel's chest, through their ribs and piercing out from their armor. 

Before the corpse of the Exorcist had even hit the ground the heads of the three other Angels surrounding Husk had flown off, sliced clean from their necks. 

And the Heir of Hell was standing before him.

It didn't matter that it was Husk that was in danger, it didn't need to be him, it could have been anyone. What mattered was that it was someone Charlie cared for, it was someone she was FIGHTING for.

Charlie had killed 4 Exorcists in less than a second and despite it being for a nobel reason, it was the little push she needed to give into every primal urge that was instilled into her since her creation… 

Charlie was still standing over him but Husk didn't dare move. Her energy and demeanor had done an entire shift. And being under contract with Alastor for as long as he's been, he knew when a grin held murderous intent…

But the grin plastered on Charlie's face wasn't like Alastor’s. It still felt like Charlie's just… less contained, more primal. 

Like she was operating on instinct above all else (Alastor was too calculating to ever do such) 

Charlie reached out her hand but Husk didn't dare take it. Charlie wouldn't ever hurt him, that much he knew. 

But he couldn't be 100% certain… Not when her mouth grew wider than he's ever seen it grow before, not when her crooked horns sprouted from her head, not when he was covered in the glowing, sticky blood of their enemies. 

There was a waver in her grin for just a moment. 

But it was gone in the next, the Exorcist, the one with the gaping hole in their chest, twitched. 

Charlie snapped her neck in their direction and crushed their head with her foot with so much force that it EXPLODED. 

Charlie: I….

It was just one day. It was an EXTERMINATION, it was the FIRST TIME Hell was fighting against Heaven! Charlie NEEDED to fight- to KILL (AND KILL AND KILL AND KILL AND KILL AND KILL AND-) It was normal, everyone was doing it, everyone needed HER to do it as well.

It… It’ll be fine. She will go right back to her normal self tomorrow, it’s not hard at all. 

Charlie’s eyes were blown wide and shined with a fervor. Her mouth was clenched into a tight, large girn and she laughed through her sharp jail cell of a mouth. 

She knelt down to the dead angel before her and took their clawed gauntlets 

Just one day… She thought as she put them on.

Charlie ran off. 

So basically Charlie gets lost in the killing and bloodshed, she’s going on a spree!! Killing exorcist angel after exorcist angel, doing it at speeds that the others can’t even keep up with!! She’s EASILY out numbering all of the kills they worked hard to rack up and KEEPS GOING

So while Charlie is going crazy on the battlefield (hotel parking lot), Alastor is fighting Adam. 

Alastor was just defeated by Adam.

He can hardly move but he's slowly stumbling his way away from Adam, who's following behind him at a very leisurely pace.

Aside from his comment from the beginning of their “battle”, Adam hasn't said a word. 

Alastor is grinning through the fractured ego and immense pain, he can't stop. He isn't facing Adam, he feels him trailing directly behind him, “Well it seems that you're victorious! Hm? Not even one heroic speech? Got on… you deserve it!” 

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

[winchesterszvonecek]

Can I request something where a reader-insert gets injured protecting Crowley, please? c:

Take the Hit - [ Crowley ]

Summary: Crowley finds out exactly how you feel about him when you take the hit that was meant to kill him

Word Count: 1470

Warnings: female!reader, mentions of blood, brief violence

A/N: i feel like this sucks but i hope it was okay!

Masterlist | Crowley Masterlist

You always were one to put others before yourself. To offer your life in exchange for theirs. It’s one thing your brothers hated about you, the fact that you were so willing to give yourself up for others, whether it be family, friends or complete strangers.

Which was completely ‘pot calling the kettle black’ as you couldn’t count the amount of times they’d given up their own lives for someone. But you just figured it was because you were technically the baby of the family, despite the fact that you were two years older than Sam… The boys didn’t want to tell you straight up that it was because you were a woman as they knew you’d kick their asses for even saying it.

Half of the time you had to threaten Dean with violence against the Impala for him to let you join them on hunts, even though you were one hell of a hunter who’d proven many times that you were capable of looking after yourself. You knew Dean was just being protective, as he had been all your life, but part of you knew that the reason he didn’t want you leaving the safety of the bunker anymore was because of Crowley.

Ever since Crowley’s run with human blood, the two of you had developed a bond, one that your brothers were not pleased with. Nor were they pleased to find out you’d been sneaking into the dungeon to talk to him at night when he’d been chained up inside, against your brother's orders that you weren’t to go anywhere near him. That had not been a fun conversation. Not one bit.

You didn’t know what this connection was you had with the King of Hell himself, whether it was from loneliness, as oftentimes you were left alone in the bunker and it’s not like there was anyone else for you to talk to, or whether it was something else entirely, you had no idea. All you knew was that you liked it.

You enjoyed Crowley’s company. You enjoyed talking to him. Having conversations that weren’t filled with jokes and innuendos, much like those in which you’d had with him around the others. These talks were more deep. More personal. Something you didn’t want to share with anyone else.

Crowley understood you. He listened to you. He allowed you to vent about things that you wouldn’t dare say around your brothers. You knew he’d never repeat what you said, not when he was still so hopped up on human blood that he was technically one himself, which is partially the reason as to why he even seemed to care about you. And you were surprised to find out that he still did once he returned to full demon… Well, almost full.

The entire time you’d known him, Crowley had never treated you any differently from your brothers. Never acted as though you couldn’t handle yourself, or looked down upon you because you were a woman. One who was much shorter than that of your gigantic brothers. He knew what you were capable of. Knew you could handle yourself in a fight. All in all he treated you like the hunter you were, which is why the second you saw that angel blade moving towards him, you knew you had to save him.

“Crowley!” You shouted, gaining his attention as you moved quicker than ever before, throwing yourself in front of the blade that might have killed him had you not taken the hit for him.

You gasped harshly as the blade penetrated your stomach, the tip of it almost coming straight out your back. Your skin burned fierce as you fell back against Crowley, who stood directly behind you, his arms catching you before you hit the ground.

“Easy, darling.” Crowley said softly, lowering you to the ground as he held you in his arms, watching as you choked on your own blood, your hands fumbling blindly around the wound in which the angel blade still stuck out of. “Don’t. You pull that out, you die… You understand me?” He added, his voice wavering a touch that only you could hear it.

“I’m sorry… I… She… She got in the way.” The hunter who’d stabbed you babbled out, his mouth gaped from shock. From confusion as to why a Winchester would take the hit for a demon. But before he, or anyone else for that matter, could say anything, Crowley raised his hand and with a quick twist of it, the hunter fell dead to the floor. His neck broken.

“C-Crowley.” You spluttered, blood spewing out of your mouth, dripping down your chin as you breathed raggedly, gasping for air which you couldn’t seem to get into your lungs. You couldn’t begin to explain the pain in which you felt. The burning sensation inside your stomach. Yet at the same time you felt numb. Cold. Like you didn’t have many ragged breaths left in you.

“You’re okay, darling.” Crowley soothed, brushing your hair from your face before the two of you vanished, the warehouse around you changing before your very eyes and before you knew it, you were in the hospital. “Can I get some help here?”

The hospital staff were quick to swarm you, your body landing on a gurney, wheeling you away from Crowley who stood anxiously by the nurses station. He knew your wound was bad. Knew it may very well kill you. And he knew he shouldn’t care. That he should find joy in the death of a Winchester but things were different now. Especially between the two of you.

He’d never dream of seeing you dead. Or your brothers for that matter. He’d never dream of laying a hand on you. Never dream of putting you in harm's way and yet somehow, without even meaning to, without even doing anything but being present at that warehouse, he’d gone and hurt you. He’d done the one thing which he swore he’d never do again, he’d hurt you, and if you didn’t pull through, he wasn’t quite sure what he’d do afterwards… That is, if your brothers didn’t kill him first, which to be honest, he probably wouldn’t even fight at that point.

The wait for news on you was long, even for a demon, but the second he heard your name being called by the doctor, he was on his feet faster than ever before. And when the doctor told him you’d survived, that you’d pulled through, well he very nearly found himself thanking God.

“You scared me.” He said softly, the second he saw your eyes flutter open as you lay still on the hospital bed.

“You’re a demon…” You said weakly, trying your best to smile. “You shouldn’t get scared.” You finished, coughing lightly as you turned to look at him. He looked so normal sitting by your side, his coat draped over the back of the chair and his suit jacket unbuttoned. It was as though he was human.

“You and I both know I’m not a regular demon, darling.” He said with a touch of humour now that you’d seemed to have regained yours. He stood up, stepping closer to you as his hand lingered in the air, as though he was unsure whether you’d want him to touch you.

“You can touch me.” You whispered, watching as the faintest smile rose on his face, one that would go unnoticed by those who didn’t truly know Crowley. Not like you did anyway. His hand landed atop your forehead, feeling the heat radiate from your skin as you closed your eyes briefly, relishing in his touch.

“Why did you save me?” He asked in a whisper, your eyes opening slowly as your gaze shifted from him a little. “Why did you take the hit?”

“Because I couldn’t… I...” You croaked out, lip trembling as your eyes began to water. “I couldn’t let him kill you.” You finished, your voice breaking as you finally turned to look at him again. He reached down, gently wiping away the tear that had rolled down your cheek.

“You know, there was a time in which you’d have been the one behind the blade, not the one diving in front of it.” He said as you sniffled, bringing your own hand up to wipe at your eyes.

“Times have changed.” You whispered, a quiet sob escaping up your throat and leaving your lips as nothing but a breathy sigh, one which told Crowley all he needed to know about you. And the way you felt about him. You could see him moving, feel him getting closer and the second his lips brushed against yours, allowing you to feel the roughness of his beard, you very nearly passed out again.

“That they have, darling, that they have.”

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[soullessjack]

another tally on the “things about jack that have been almost erased by the baby au” is how genuinely fucked up and weird and scary and violent and horrifying he is. the body horror of his existence is so. Palpable.

he looks human, but he still fundamentally is not human, and the thing that separates him from being human or belonging or being normal and loved and accepted without strings attached is his own bloodline. his own family, his own father. the blood that runs through his veins is the blood of the devil and he wasn’t fed it like Sam. the anger and rage and capacity for violence inside him isn’t an ancient curse like it was for Dean. It’s just who he is. It’s his neurology. Jack enters a guilt/grief-induced psychosis so bad he starts hallucinating his own dead evil father who proceeds to say “I’m in your head, your DNA,” and goes on about how Jack’s place with the only chosen family he ever cared for is that of their little pet monster who’s only kept around to kill things for them. And this is his subconscious, remember, these are all Jack’s own thoughts being given a hallucinatory voice.

When jack is first born he doesn’t even register that he’s not a full human. It’s not until he catches dean telling the sheriff that he’s a Nephil and gets stabbed all the way through his entire heart to the hilt of the angel blade and survives, that he realizes he’s Not Normal. Jack stabs himself 18 times with “grim determination,” dedicated to making a wound stay open in his body, but nothing happens. He doesn’t know what any of this is, but he knows it’s dangerous and he’s seen firsthand what he can do, because he sent the sheriff careening backwards into glass when he didn’t mean to do anything more than push her away. He tells Dean he will hurt someone again [whether he means to or not]. And he tells Sam, using his powers is like breathing; it’s a subconscious, physical, neurological part of his system that he cannot (currently) consciously control or stop.

He’s literally a living weapon. These powers of his that hurt people are akin to breathing. His violence and his evil is deep seated and runs through his heart and bleeds out of him. But he can’t bleed the evil out. He can’t escape what he was born into or what keeps him alive. He can’t even live without this nuclear power that ostensibly others him from everyone forever. He’s foaming at the mouth and seizing and fainting and bleeding and going into total systemic failure and subsequently dying as a human because he just isn’t human and he can’t live as one even if he wants to, even if that is a part of him it still isn’t the only part of him. The other half that makes him untrustworthy and violent and angry and dangerous and nuclear and evil and feared and hated is the one part he is left dying without.

His body dies a first time because it couldn’t live without its own hereditary disease, he died as a human and goes to human heaven and sees and rekindles with his human mother, the part of him that he wants to be and loves but can’t exist as. He’s brought back but now he’s a time bomb, a nuclear reactor internally melting down. he’s a weapon, but he’s alive because he was born as a weapon, and neither of these things were his choice.

and then a second time his body dies because he was only registered as a threat with no humanity. his eyes are burned out of his skull and instead of heaven with his mother, instead of humanity, he wakes up in the pitch black abyss where other nonhumans go when they die, then he’s brought back and he’s a weapon for the third time. He’s a living bomb, a collapsing black hole, and he has to eat human hearts ripped straight from the chest to keep his bomb body alive and ready for detonation, ready for collapse. He’s so far from human, further than he ever wanted to be, further enough to make his deep rooted fear a reality that he’s too suicidal to bother rebuking. Why rebuke the truth? The absolute truth that the devil, the evil of all things is in his blood and he is evil and he was a born weapon whose body exists to destroy and kill and not even his own love or will can stop it.

He is a gun that doesn’t want to be a gun and hates that his body is made to shoot and kill, but he has no choice in being anything else but a gun. He cannot ever be good, he was never good to begin with, he was just malfunctioning, glitching, experiencing an error and virus and flaw that he wishes was his entire programming. His eyes glow yellow like the corrupted Star Wars Sith and Rosemary’s Baby and a whole slew of evil things that are evil and meant to be rejected. When he gets angry, people stare at him as if he’s a cornered animal, because that’s what he is to them. To both sides of the equation, he is an animal. A foreign creature, a thing, he’s not human enough to be human and he’s not angelic enough to be an Angel. He’s some weird mixture that nobody can understand or accept. He’s unpredictable and violent and wild and born that way and only in his subsequent domestication, only in the extension of personhood and humanity can he be deemed worth loving. He’s like a dog, detrimentally loyal, old yeller going rabid while saving his family and having to be shot in an act of mercy. Barking and biting at people who might hurt his loved ones and killing them as an act of love. Sam wanted Nick to burn so Jack burns Nick and that’s why Jack says they would be grateful. He did what Sam wanted. Same for the other biblical killings. He’s the cat sinking its fangs into rodents and birds. Leaving the punctured corpses on the doormat as a gift, I did this for you because I love you, don’t you love me too?

I haven’t eaten well in the past two days does this click click anyone’s boom. Saliva

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 4/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

More on the siblings' program.

-----------------------------------------------

Lucifer stifled a chuckle as he observed his brother's expression. If only Michael knew that Lucifer had already been informed of his impending demise. He's more shocked that Heaven might be the cause of his death.

Heaven's really keen on killing him, huh.

Lucifer: I'm immortal! You're being ridiculous.

Michael: And you're being a fool! These threads just made a divine move. This had never happened before!

Lucifer: Then why tell me, huh?! Last I checked, you and Heaven could barely give a rat's ass about whether or not I'm still alive.

Michael: Because believe it or not, I do still care about you! You're my little brother, Samael!

Lucifer: I said my name is L̴͎̭̥͎͊̀u̷̧̨̟̻͓͗̍c̷̢̪̱̄̀̊̎̀͝ì̷̘͚̰̖̦̱f̴̻̮̲̮͈͈͑̓̃̃̊e̸̫̒͑͒͊͗͆r̸̨̤̀̂̚͝ͅͅ!

Sue him if he couldn't control the fiery words that erupted from his mouth. Michael always had a knack for provoking him, intentionally or not.

Lucifer: And you have a funny way of showing it. Did you know that the Fall almost killed us?! Lily and I had to lay there, surrounded by darkness, bodies so burnt we couldn't move for weeks.

Despite the looming threat posed by the King of Hell, Michael refuses to back down. Instead, he straightens his posture and closes the distance between them, showing the unwavering protector of Heaven that he is.

Michael: You don't understand! I- it was such a hard decision! It was the best option! I'm Heaven's protector and-

Lucifer: You were my protector too!

The Archangel was taken aback, a rare moment of vulnerability revealing itself in his features. Lucifer, observing this reaction, knows he has struck a chord. Despite Michael's claims of caring for his family, it's evident that Heaven had, and always has been his top priority.

Michael thinks about a lot of things too. Like how everything would've turned out different if he was never given this duty- this purpose.

Michael: They were going to kill you.

Lucifer couldn't remember the last time he had heard his brother speak to him with such softness.

Michael: Your original punishment was death. They wanted you killed. By my blade. We begged them to reconsider. You should've seen it-

The warrior of Heaven laughs wetly.

Michael: -the Archangels of Heaven, on their knees in front of people other than our Lord. It took so many meetings for them to relent. That's why you and Lilith spent a long time held in the Garden.

Lucifer: Shut up.

Michael: So, I'm really sorry that we let you down.

Lucifer: Shut up, Michael.

His brother once again composed himself, his gaze turning cold as it met Lucifer's.

Michael: But if I had the chance to go back, I would do it all over again.

Of course. Heaven always comes first.

Lucifer: You should've killed me when you had the chance. And now you think you can beat me at my own game?

He attempts to crush the thread still held in his hand, its glow resembling the purest gold. It seems to almost be trying to talk to him, to reason with him like Michael every time they meet. But it all sounds like mockery to his ears.

He hates it.

Lucifer lets out a manic laugh.

Lucifer: Divine move? Divine move? You think you have any moves at all?!

He begins to yell at the threads.

Lucifer: Maybe then, Heaven could've killed that weak, naive angel. But me? ME?! Ì̶̢̤̉'̵͙͕͑M̷̱͋̀ ̵̬͌T̴̥͠͝H̸̫́̑E̶̳̠̐̎ ̴̠̣̎̐D̷̼̕E̵̢̳͆V̶̳̩̉̋Ì̶̬L̴̥̗̾ ̴̮͝F̸̝̓̀Ų̸̠͗̑C̵͚͗K̷̺̚̚I̵̠̋̕Ň̸͎͈G̵̘̔ ̵̤͛I̸̩͐N̷̥̰̋C̸͓̒̍A̴̙̓R̵͍͛N̴̤͎͠A̵͇̟̓Ṯ̴̯͊Ḙ̴͑̇,̴̰͆̑ ̵̤́ͅÝ̴̙̫̈́O̵͚͐͒U̵̙͂ ̷̱̆͜͝Ċ̸͍̌Á̷̰́N̸͉̈'̶͇̎͂T̵̠̒ ̶͖́K̶̛̲̮̆I̸͎̘͐̃L̴̟̙̔̿L̴̜̾͊ ̶̱̥̌M̵̳̕E̵͈̯͋́!

Lucifer's disguise falters, his emotions resonating through his disguise as his golden hair reverts back to the darkness Roo had cursed him with.

The threads began humming. Were they afraid of them? Of him? That's funny, Fate itself, afraid of him? He wonders if even Death would tremble in his presence.

Michael splutters in disbelief at the sight of Lucifer's transformed appearance.

Michael: Lucifer—what? Why do you look like that? What did you-

The younger doesn't grace his brother with an answer or allow him to finish. Instead, he summons Keekee once more and swiftly opens a portal back to Hell.

Lucifer: Don't worry, Mika. I won't die that easily because I'll be there to watch Heaven fall.

Nothing matters. Not his brother's shouts of concern, not the short thread, not Roo's cryptic words. What matters is Charlie and her future.

He'll defy Fate if he has to.

-----------------------------------------------

Michael slumps on a chair in exhaustion after Lucifer left. He fears for the worst of Heaven and his brother's fates.

He grabs an orb from his pocket dimension and starts to recite and incantation to call his siblings. He knows he should tell the others, to discuss The Fates, Heaven, and Sa-Lucifer. Lucifer who is clearly hiding something.

But he hesitates.

'Knowing them, they would go down to Hell to confront Lucifer and it might just make things worse with their little brother than it already is. '

Before he could make a decision, there's a loud crash from beyond the door.

Michael: Hello?

He vaguely hears shushing on the other side and a bit of arguing. Slowly, he approaches the door. He grabs the knob and swings it open swiftly.

Michael: Gabriel, I told you not to-

Michael stops in surprise as he stares at his eavesdroppers. One lets out a squeak while the other saluted him.

'A young Seraph and a winner?'

Emily: Archangel Michael! We-uh- we can explain!

Sir Pentious: Your Heavenly Grace!

----------------------------------

A Shameless and Teen Wolf reference??

I miss season 3b. Nogitsune Stiles was the best villain to come out of that show.

Edited some stuff! Moved a few dialogues

[littlemourningstarr]

Refuge

Gale has hidden himself away in his tent, trying to will his own buzzing arousal away. Astarion's arrival feels like a curse, but may just be a blessing in disguise.

Kinktober 2024, Day 30: "JOI (Jerk Off Instructions)"

Read below or on AO3!

Pairing: Gale x Astarion

Tags: JOI, jerk off instructions, masturbation, a pinch of angst, kinktober, kinktober 2024

Gale flipped a page in his book, trying desperately to concentrate on the words in front of him, as he sat within his tent, a candle flickering. He’d been… distracted for the entirety of the evening, had been forced to leave the campfire and the company of his companions earlier than usual.

Everything just felt… too much, suddenly. He was beginning to notice just how beautiful each companion was, each flaw that he found all too tempting. Shadowheart looking like a blade of moonlight, Lae’zel cast in the shadows and flames like something fearsome- Wyll’s gods damned smile.

He groaned, tipping his head back. His groin throbbed, a pulsing heat within his pelvis, his balls aching, his cock tight to his pants. Typically he could ignore his arousal, and if it was too threatening he could occasionally take himself in hand and keep himself calm enough that the orb behaved. But this felt… different.

Because they were all so close. Despite the tensions and snide remarks, Gale had this twinging feeling that if he were to proposition any of his companions, they would take him up on it, quickly. And that temptation was terrifying…

Gale lifted his head, opened his eyes- and gasped sharply, realizing that his tent was being held open, a set of too red eyes looking at him, intrigued.

“By Mystra’s grace Astarion, do you want to startle me into an explosion?” Gale tried to sound annoyed, but he feared it fell flat. The vampire looked like a ghost, a wraith- a marble sculpture with the moon and stars illuminating him in a holy halo.

Gods above, below, and long dead- he was gorgeous. And it wasn’t helping Gale’s situation.

The vampire flashed him a smile- all fang- and stepped into his tent, letting it flop closed behind him as he settled on his knees. “Did you need something?”

“Me? Oh, no, I am quite… content. But you…” he reached out, caught his finger under Gale’s chin, forcing him to raise his head slightly, showing off his neck, “my dear wizard, you seem to need something quite badly.”

Gale kept his mouth tightly shut- but inside, he was panicking. He should have known the vampire would notice something- his senses had been beyond heightened once he had started feeding regularly.

Gale had but a breath to decide if he was going to deny or admit the truth. And when he said nothing at all, it was admission enough.

Astarion chuckled, a little rumble from his chest, his finger tracing down the front of Gale’s throat, over his adam’s apple. “Poor little Gale, doesn’t know how to ask someone to bed. Why, I would have thought bedding a goddess would have given you a complex. Who ruined you tonight, hmm?”

The top of Astarion’s finger was so chilled, it was all Gale could focus on. Would it feel good, to have that sort of cold pressed up against his own warm, soft heat? Astarion was all smooth skin, hollows of bones and sinewy muscle- gods, to have him pressed to the softest parts of Gale’s body, to feel his legs wrap around his waist, watch his head tip back, his arms extended like angel wings-

Astarion grinned more. “Your heart is racing. Do share your thoughts.”

“You should leave.” Gale’s voice was thick, slow. It was dangerous to have Astarion this close, to entertain these thoughts. The orb felt unsettled in his chest, nearly pulsing with his heart.

“Oh darling, don’t play coy, I can…” Astarion paused, eyeing Gale’s throat- and Gale realized the humming pulse of the orb, in time with his pulse. “Hear your heart…”

Gale couldn’t even focus on the fact that Astarion was, quite possibly, propositioning him, although it very well could just be teasing. It was too dangerous. “Which means you need to leave, right now. A little reading will calm me down.”

Astarion was quiet for a long moment, looking at Gale with an almost pitying look. “You can’t even take care of it yourself, can you?”

Gale shut the book in his lap rather forcefully. “No, Astarion, not safely if I’m worked up enough. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to dwell in my seething arousal alone.”

The vampire, however, didn’t leave. He trailed his cold fingers down the pulsing orb’s veins, watching the purple illuminate his skin. “I’m going to regret this,” the vampire mumbled, “but that is simply… not fair. We can’t have you sitting here like a prudish monk.”

“Did you not hear the threat that excitement could mean I detonate and level everyone from here to Elturel?” Or what remained of it, anyway.

But Astarion was ignoring him, shuffling closer. He smelled refreshing, the bergamot thick, as if he had just reapplied the scent. His other hand took Gale’s book from his lap, set it aside- then took one of the wizard’s hands, slid it over his thigh, until he was pressing Gale’s hand to the wizard's quite obvious erection.

Gale’s hips bucked up towards his own hand, as the chill of Astarion’s skin felt… oddly grounding.

“If you stay like this you’ll burst at the first sight of someone’s ankle. No, taking the edge off is a far better risk than simply letting yourself spiral into unsatisfied need. So,” Astarion stroked his fingers over Gale’s knuckles, along the bones at the back of his hand. “Take yourself in hand and find some release. I’ll keep you calm.”

Gale couldn’t fathom how Astarion would keep him calm, when the man was doing the exact opposite- but gods he had a point, didn’t he? If Gale didn’t calm himself down, find some release, he was only going to get worse, the next wave of frustration stronger- until, gods above, he just might get so excited by the most ridiculous thing that he simply did explode into oblivion.

He hesitated another moment, before he leaned back a bit, fingers tracing the waist of his pants. “If we all die, I’m blaming you,” he pointed out. Astarion gave him a little smile, a small quirk of his lips.

“Whatever lets you sleep at night, darling.”

Gale reached into his pants, gave his cock a squeeze through his underwear, before he freed himself. He didn’t miss the way Astarion’s eyes flicked down, took in the flush of his cockhead, the smear of precum already visible.

The damned vampire licked his lips, and Gale felt his heart rate spike, the orb ache in his chest. Astarion dragged his eyes back up to his face, locked eyes with Gale.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he said, his voice soft, quiet. “Move your hand slowly.” Gale listened, held Astarion’s stare as he stroked slowly. “Don’t focus on the touch, just the feeling.”

Gale sucked at his tongue, tried not to focus on what he was doing- only that it felt good. But gods he wanted to stroke faster, wanted to rut into his hand, find release quickly.

He sped up a little, but Astarion reached out, grasped his arm gently, forced him to slow, gave a single shake of his head. “Don’t be desperate Gale. You’ll get there. Slowly, so we can keep that pretty little heart of yours calm.” He pulled his hand back, and Gale swallowed thickly, but listened- his hand slowing down, his grip loose, just bumping his glans on each up stroke. “Good, better.” The vampire pulled his eyes from Gale’s for a moment, glanced at the pulsing on his neck, before turning his eyes back to Gale. “I’m going to touch you- no, not your cock, don’t look terrified.”

Gale hadn’t even realized that he’d gone wide eyed, hopeful and fearful.

“Just let me make you more comfortable. Keep going as you are.” Astarion reached for his robes, began undoing its fastening, opening it to reveal Gale’s bare chest. He pushed it fully open, then placed both his palms flat to Gale’s chest. Gale sucked in a breath, the coolness a shock to his system, making his chest cramp up- but oddly enough, made him feel almost calm.

It was the touch of another, after all. Something he hadn’t felt in over a year.

He made a desperate little noise, and Astarion leaned closer. “Shh, shh, you’re alright. You’re alright.” His thumbs rubbed at Gale’s chest, over his thick, dark chest hair. The wizard was sure he could feel his heart and the orb pulsing under one hand. “Look how close I am, and you’ve still got your pretty little head attached.”

Gale managed a smile, couldn’t stop himself from whispering, “Pretty, eh?”

Astarion tutted, gently let his nails scratch at Gale’s chest. The sensation was slightly distracting- kept Gale from focusing on the dire need his cock was aching with, in his hand. “Don’t make me take it back,” he chided. “Stop touching yourself.”

Gale paused, pulled his hand away- but it was agony. The moment he lost the sensation on his cock he realized just how tightly he was wound, each muscle in his body ached.

“You’re getting too excited.” Astarion skimmed his hands up to Gale’s shoulders. “I can hear your pulse. Now, listen to me very carefully. Take yourself in hand.” When Gale hesitated, Astarion added with that attitude of his, “your cock, you stupid, silly man. Now.”

Gale took himself back in hand, his other hand on his thigh, gripping it tightly.

“Don’t stroke, press your thumb just beneath the head.” Gale listened, pressing his thumb under his glans, at the heavy bundle of nerves that rested there. “Good, good. Now rub, slowly now.”

The wizard listened, felt his balls going tight as his cock spilled precum at the touch. It made it easier to rub slowly. 

“Your pulse is going to go up,” Astarion murmured, hands going back to his chest. The coolness was comforting. “It’s okay. Don’t panic. You’re going to get relief, I promise.”

Gale believed him.

He took a slow breath, not fighting the way his belly was tightening up, then relaxing. He was close, close enough that he was beginning to feel that fuzzy orgasmic feeling, in his spine.

Astarion leaned closer, until his forehead was pressed to Gale’s. It was… intimate. Gale’s chest ached over the action, but his pulse remained. This was a different ache. One he wasn’t sure he could pull apart, in that moment.

“You’re close,” the vampire whispered- not asking, but telling. “You’re so close, and it feels so good. Everything is alright, Gale. Everything is safe, here. With me.” The wizard closed his eyes, whined softly, wanted in that moment so badly for Astarion to kiss him. But gods, there was no way he’d remain calm through that. “Almost there,” Astarion whispered, “Almost, almost… and…” he hesitated, then whispered in a very breathy voice, “now.”

The orgasm was a tide of relief, washing over Gale, drowning him. He didn’t thrash, didn’t hump into his hand- he simply felt his muscles relaxing, pleasure stretching from his pelvis up his back, out to his limbs. His cock was weeping cum over his hand, heavy spurts that were tell-tale evidence of how pent up he was.

He kept rubbing just beneath his glans, until he felt the contractions inside him finally beginning to weaken. He dared to open his eyes, glance through dark lashes- and Astarion was still there, forehead to forehead, giving him a little smile.

“Good.” The vampire pulled back slightly, hands still on his chest. “And now you’re calm.”

It was the truth. Gale felt… relaxed. Gods, he felt drowsy. He wasn’t sure the last time an orgasm had been that good.

He hated when Astarion pulled his hands back. The orb gave a pulse as his chest ached at the loss of contact, but then the light dimmed. No burst of flames and flesh rending force- nothing but his calm heartbeat, within his breast.

He opened his mouth to thank Astarion, but the vampire gave a single shake of his head. “Don’t thank me. I simply made sure you don’t get us all killed because you’re pent up like a youth.” Gale thought the vampire might have meant there to be some teasing venom in his voice, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was looking at Gale too softly.

“How did you…” Gale paused, swallowed, hated that Astarion stood up, turned away from him, grasping the flap of his tent. He meant to leave, and Gale realized he desperately wanted him to stay. “How did you know what to say?”

The elf paused for a long moment, before he glanced over his shoulder. His eyes, those gorgeous scorching gems that could burn hundred year stone to ash- they looked sad. “I simply told you what I want to hear.”

It was honest, too honest. The moment Astarion said it he turned, let himself out into the night, leaving Gale to stare at where the man’s shadow had been.

Whatever demons kept home in the shadows of Astarion’s ribs, Gale hoped someday they would all burn in their own hellish fires. And, he dared to admit- he’d quite like to be the one lighting that fire. He’d enjoy exercising some of the fear from Astarion, and giving him the sort of safe relief he had just given Gale.

[lesser-demon-paimon]

Pressure OC - Morgan "the angel" Floyd - Z-43

Sentenced for 14 years of jail time for multiple counts of drug trafficking, Morgan Floyd begged for a shorter sentence because he "needed to provide for his physically disabled mother and his teenage brother." Of course, this claim was dismissed by the court so his sentence remained as it should be.

After two years in ████████ prison, Morgan was offered to be transferred to Urbanshade with the promise of his family being given as much support as needed in exchange for him to take part in the company's scientific research - without much more information. Only wanting the best for his beloved family, Floyd took the offer and was soon transferred to Urbanshade's on-site cellblock.

Compared to the other inmates, who were mostly in for murder and assault charges, Floyd was surprisingly weak. Due to his weakness, Morgan was persistently harassed by his fellow inmates which earned him a mass of bruising, black eyes, scars and so on.

Despite everything, Floyd held a bit of hope in his heart that he would be free since another inmate - ████████ ██████ - had provided him and a few other prisoners a plan for escape.

However, months after the plans had been made, ████████ had been transferred under unknown circumstances. Therefore, Morgan had been left alone once again.

At some points, scientists would come in and take him to a surgery, where they would inject with who knows what. These injections turned out to be the DNA of some marine animals such as lemon sharks, vampire squids, sea angels and spotted eagle rays. The combination of these different DNA samples caused multiple different side effects on Floyd such as the ability to breathe underwater, two rows of pointy teeth, dorsal fin between his shoulder blades, six tongues that could extend and grab objects, translucent skin and muscle, bioluminescent organs and spit, and a caudal appendage.

These features obviously needed some time to get used to, since the development of them was quite uncomfortable and often made Morgan feel like he was burning from the inside out. By the time he had gotten used to these things, he still hadn't heard anything from ████████.

When all of the specimens had been released, Morgan had managed to keep himself safe by doing his best to hide and only fighting when he needed to.

Now, Morgan Floyd wanders the halls of the Hadal Blacksite with his presence only being known by his glowing internal organs. He's docile unless self-defence is necessary and may even help wanderers if he trusts them enough.

[tewwor]

* & CLEAVED FROM WHAT'S HOLY — HIROMI & FALLEN ANGEL VERSE .

SYNOPSIS.

exiled from heaven and barred from hell, hiromi is forced to wander earth's liminal plane.

his halo, or what's left of the shattered thing, is collared around his neck. the fragments of which etched into the thin skin. some days, it burns hotter than fresh coals. others, its rakes an arctic cold. the sensation depends on his choices.

both wings have been torn. the scar of such dismemberment an ugly, harrowing thing at the base of each shoulder blade. oftentimes, he still feels them by way of phantom limbs. he feels as if a part of him is forever missing. he has also given up on retrieving them from heaven.

there's an inexplicable timelessness about him. a noticeable shift in atmosphere within the vicinity. those that seek penance are often drawn to him without realizing.

hiromi does not cross holy grounds. not because he can't, but rather he doesn't want to be reminded of the bitterness left in his core.

a celestial sword can be summoned by tearing a fragment of his splintered halo from the neck ( much like peeling ink from paper — by force, by scratching, by way of pain in trade for retribution ). there isn't a limit to how long he's able to wield it. but having a piece of his dwindling divinity removed from his body hurts.

[fairytail-multishipper]

Tell me about the celestial spirits in your rewrite, are you going to rework the magic?

THANK YOU GREEK I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THEM!!!!!!!!!

rewrite stuff ⬇️

The Silver Spirit keys are the beings born of the Celestial Spirit world. There are hundreds of Spirits for each constellation, each with their own key. They only have one life, and if a Silver Key spirit dies, they will become part of their constellation and their key will turn to dust

The Zodiac were all once like the Silver Keys, but were granted 12 lives. Once a Zodiac Key passes for the 12th time, they are reincarnated. It used to be that the most powerful Silver Key would take their place, but as wizards started to become more powerful, soon, wizards started to outclass Silver Keys. You can read more on it here! If you read this and leave a comment saying you came from this post, I’ll write a drabble of your choosing!

Onto specific spirits!

Aries ♈️

Aries is the second youngest of the Zodiac at this point. She practices wool magic, and part of that is that she can change the physical properties of the wool she handles. For example, she can make the wool solid, liquid, or a gas. She’s at the most powerful during the Aries season in the Human World. Given she is a Fire Sign, she can also use fire magic, though it’s not as powerful as most human fire wizards. She uses a shepard’s staff as a weapon if she requires one, and she can use it to aide her magic.

For the longest time, Aries was a very submissive and shy spirit, and she let her key holders do whatever they wanted to her. This changed after Leo stood up to Karen and subsequently got her killed by Angel, Aries took it upon herself to make sure none of her other friends would suffer because of her weakness. By the time we meet her in canon, Aries is much more outgoing and outspoken to her Key Holder, and very protective of her Silver Keys.

While Leo was gone, she became the “Queen of the Zodiac” and that stuck even after he came back, making her the head of the Zodiac.

Her human name was Mary, and she became the Aries Spirit in the year X272

Taurus ♉️

Taurus uses his Labrys, but he can also use Earth magic. Think Thor with his hammer, that’s kind of what Taurus’s earth magic is like, he needs his Labrys. His Earth magic is very rudimentary, and he can create earthquakes.

He’s not a creepy towards Lucy, he’s very respectful and gentle with her. He wears blue overalls and has a very subtle southern accent.

His human name was Garrett, and he doesn’t remember the year he became the Bull Spirit.

Gemini ♊️

I really like the Eclipse designs for them, so that’s how they look in my rewrite

Being very young human twins, under the age of 10, they are considered lucky to not remember their human lives

The other Zodiac are very protective of them because they’re very easily influenced

They still use Copy/Transformation magic, but they can also use flight magic

Gemi’s human name was Castor, and Mimi’s human name was Aura

One of three spirits that does not have animal traits or attributes

Cancer ♋️

Cancer takes on more of a swordsman appearance than a hairdresser, using one of his blades as a sword, but he can combine them to make big scissors. He picked up hair dressing while serving under Layla and Lucy, though.

His water magic is basically non-existent, but he is considered the most skilled swordsman in the Celestial world

He’s got six arms that he can fold away and can also turn into crab legs.

His human name was Abyl.

Leo ♌️

Leo has feline ears and a tail because i said so.

Leo is the youngest of the zodiac. He became the Lion spirit in the year X344. His human name was Loke.

Leo used Ring magic as a human, which he then translated into Regulus when he became the Leo spirit. He can use Regulus without his rings, and he can use it throughout his whole body, but it’s stronger when channeled through an item.

His rings can take many forms, and he even likes to use brass knuckles sometimes.

His fire magic isn’t really fire magic, but more of a fire hazard. He can light his tail on fire, as well as his hair if he’s in a tight spot, which will likely make an attacker let up.

Virgo ♍️

Virgo isn’t a maid in my rewrite

Her magic is the same as in the original

She’s a shapeshifter and is also, the only spirit with a gender bias. A man could never reincarnate into the Virgo spirit, but if Virgo wanted too, she could appear as a man.

One of three spirits that does not have animal traits or attributes

Her human name was Rosemary.

Libra ♎️

Gravity Magic is a sub category of Air magic, so she can use Air magic just as well, making her very hard to escape from.

One of three spirits that does not have animal traits or attributes

Her human name was Vidya.

Scorpio ♏️

Scorpio’s tail is actually a scorpio’s tail, but it has armor around it that gives the appearance of a cannon.

He uses sand magic like in canon, but he can also use water magic.

Scorpio is not dating Aquarius.

His human name was Ezio.

Sagittarius ♐️

Also like his Eclipse design better than the canon one, so he’s a centaur

His fire magic translates into fire arrows that he can summon and fire without his bow, but it’s easier to aim with the bow.

His human name was Phillip

Capricorn ♑️

Capricorn is the second eldest of the Zodiac.

Capricorn still practices his Human Subordination Magic, but he can also use Earth magic. It’s quite a deadly combination if your magic suddenly stops working and he then smacks you with a big ass rock.

For the longest time, he’s looked down on his Key Holders, but that changed when he met Layla Heartfilia, and again when he met Lucy

His human name has been forgotten

Aquarius ♒️

She’s the oldest of the Zodiac and is rumored to be the original Aquarius

She’s actually the original Ophiuchus, but was punished by the Zodiac King for meddling in human affairs and going to earth without permission

Her constellation was destroyed and she was passed over to the Aquarius constellation despite knowing Air magic instead of water magic

She quickly learned Water magic and uses Air magic for her urn, which she uses to store and transfer all the water stored in it

Pisces ♓️

The mother of the Pisces set has been around a long time, but her son was born and became the Pisces spirit not long before Aries took the mantle

The mother (Eta) was originally partnered with her brother, but he lost all his lives shortly before her son (Omicron) was born

He became the second Pisces, but he was originally half human because Eta had a relationship with one of her old Key Holders

Both practices water magic

Omicron was named after his late uncle and has always had that name

Eta’s human name was Calypso

[eluminium]

Life Series: Angel's Blessing

...or how killing Skizz seems to lock you into a Top 2 placement.

Welcome to another post where Eluminium goes insane about Skizzleman because the brainrot is consuming me.

So y'all know of the whole "Skizz and the number 3" thing? Well, a part I forgot to mention in the original post was a weird thing relating to Skizz's last deaths. Now Skizz is very good at dying early, he and Jimmy are the only two people who've never made it past session 7. In 3rd Life, he was killed by Grian. In Last Life, he was shot by Ren. And in Limited Life he sacrificed himself to TIES by having Etho kill him.

But.

In (almost) every single death he's had, he's been killed by either the winner of the game or by second place. And the other one (Scar for 3rd Life and Scott for Last Life) was also there to witness it firsthand. Every time. It's not as strong in Limited Life, but it's still there. Who was a witness to Skizz's sacrifice? Impulse. Who came second? Impulse. Martyn didn't witness it nor permakill Skizz, but you could argue that one of the kills Martyn got on Skizz pushed him towards his eventual martyrdom.

 In almost every series, the one to either permakill Skizz or watch Skizz permadie gets top 2. With no fail (so far.) Three times in a row.

Hmmm, well isn't that weird? And it's happened in every series Skizz has been in. And what are the only numbers above three? That's right. One and Two. First and Second. It's almost as if Skizz's weird curse tied to the three works as a blessing for whoever is there to kill him or watch him die. I suppose one man's curse is another man's blessing.

So uhm, petition to call this weird phenomenon "Angel's Blessing." For...obvious reasons. 

Hey I mean, could probably work it into a funny design thing. 

Just imagine Desert Duo in the cactus ring. As they throw punch after punch and speak their woes on how they don't wanna do this, two cracked and barely noticeable triangle-shaped halos (haha get it because three) are hovering over both their heads. As Scar's health starts draining, the halo fades with him, while Grian's only grows stronger, and more stable. Eventually, Grian's fist cracks right through Scar's barely visible golden headpiece, and with that, Scar has no chance. Not that he put up much resistance in the first place.

Just imagine Scott and Ren's final battle. Scott, fresh from his kill on Martyn, with his triangle halo hovering, just taking shot after shot on Ren. With every hit, Ren's halo grows weaker. However, it isn't Scott who smashes the fragile thing into pieces, instead the honor is given to a random zombie, who doesn't care what it just destroyed. When Scott stands victorious, divine lightning strikes and shatters his halo too. 

Just imagine Martyn cutting down Scott first because he knows. He's an observant guy, he's noticed the little gold barely-noticeable triangle floating over Impulse's head. A naive soul would have mistaken it for a trick of the light, but Martyn sees how it cracks as if solid when he ends Scott's life. Scott had to be first, Scott didn't have a halo this time. If Martyn himself looked up, it's quite likely he'd see his own little triangle. Strong, solid, blessed. But the one floating over the demon's head is a broken, helpless, sad little thing uselessly clinging onto hope after being so thoroughly crushed. 

Martyn's brain takes him back for a second. Back to the very first session of this damned death game. Back to that cave, to the rush of the Boogeyman curse, and back to Skizz. As Skizz called him up to give him a sweet compliment, he readied his blade. But all he saw was this poor wingless angel, an angel who had his two snow-white wings hacked off by two boogies barely ten minutes in. All that remained was his halo, and if Martyn wanted to kill Skizz, he would have had to break it...and he couldn't bring himself to do it. It was almost too pathetic. He let Skizz live, let him keep his last piece. And that would be a piece kept until Etho broke it on Skizz's behalf since Skizz never got Boogey killed again.

He couldn't go through with the backstabbing then. It's different now. Much blood-drenched time has passed since.

Now Martyn brings down his axe and lava on his ally, a betrayal he refrained from when this series started. He's numb by now.

When lightning strikes where Scott once stood, he looks over to a shocked Impulse. An Impulse with no armor, an Impulse who won't be able to react in time. Just as helpless and vulnerable as Skizz in that cave. The halo still sits right over the demonic horns, and to kill Impulse, he'll have to break it.

But Martyn is a different man now. Those acts of mercy are long gone. Now, he feels nothing as he mercilessly chases Impulse down and brings his axe through the halo that once made him hesitate. Wrathful, hungry, animalistic.

It's what these worlds do to them. It's what they do to them.

An Angel's Blessing can't guarantee victory. But it can guarantee something better than third. 

And well. For once, the blessing went to Impulse. About time, considering Impulse has watched Skizz permadie every single time. 

Isn't the Life series just full of fun patterns to discover?

btw Skizz said on the podcast today that he has a habit of sometimes kissing Impulse on the cheek when they're reunited. Just a fun fact to cheer you up <3

[snonkerdoodlewritesstuff]

Hey.

I'm not gonna ask how you are, because I know how you are. At least, I think I do. I don't know if I want myself to be true.

When you...left...I'm not sure whether left is the right word, actually. The horror of what happened...the horror of what you did to me...is something that can't be described with words. My soul was ripped apart. My heart shattered into a million pieces. My soul was wounded. My life ended when you went away from me.

And...even after all of that...I hope you're okay, my love. I really do. You...I don't think you could help it. If only we talked to each other. If only we worked things out before IT happened...maybe this wouldn't've been such a bad thing.

At any rate, I want to tell you something. Something that I never told you before, and now definitely won't ever get the chance to.

I loved you. When you would smile the way you did in the sun and we would sneak off together to do things we should'nt've been doing, I loved you. When you would marvel at little things like flowers and hummingbirds and nightingales, I loved you. I've always loved you, from the moment I met you.

I love you. I love you, even now that you're gone, even now that I'm nothing but a pile of broken pieces and memories. I love you, even though they all dragged you away from me, so that I could never embrace you again, and never have the chance to call you mind. Even after all that, I still love you.

I will always love you. Even though I'll never see you again--not for a long while, at the least--I will always love you. There doesn't seem to be anybody else for me, because my heart was yours the moment I set eyes on you. It's always you, my love. Always you...

And lastly, I will miss you. I will miss the way you were a fucking diva all the time. I'll miss the way you were so rude to anyone who crossed you. I'll miss your smiles, the way you saw the world, the way...the way you looked when you were happy, or sad, or anything really. You're fucking beautiful, sweetheart.

This letter can be read from 3 perspectives:

Crowley to Aziraphale after Good Omens season 2.

John Watson to Sherlock Holmes after Sherlock season 2. 🧐

Blade Ranger to Nick Loopin' Lopez after the crash.

There are 3 more lines to add as well for each:

He let out a sigh laden with a thousand years' worth of exhaustion and

took a look around the bookshop--his bookshop now, that Aziraphale had found it in him to abandon it. He didn't know why he stayed, given the pain it caused him, but leaving would somehow make it worse. Sinking low into the cushions of the couch, he took a swig from his bottle.

sank back into the chair, facing the other one that should've been filled with a lanky man and his stupid curly hair and stupid angelic face. His vision blurred in and out of focus from the lack of sleep--he knew that if he gave in now he would only wake up to the words, "Goodbye, John" ringing in his ears.

sank low onto his landing gear, staring at the picture of his one-- and it seemed only--love. It didn't matter how many years it had been since the accident; a part Blade was and would always belong to Nick. Looking around at the scene of the base, he headed back to his cliff, parking a little ways from the edge to keep watch over the park for lightning storms. He fought fires now. He saved lives for real. After all, that's all he could do at this point, wasn't it?

So sorry if the ending seems rushed on any of them but constructive criticism would be appreciated! Thank you for reading this!

[daughterofcain-67]

𝕽𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 (𝔭𝔱.2)

(Dean Winchester x Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Sam and Dean are on the road looking into a lead that Castiel had given them. Sam is hoping that this will get them a step closer to getting Dean some help. Meanwhile, Dean is reluctant because the lead doesn't sound promising in aiding Cass in the hunt for Metatron. He thinks this will be a waste of time, but little does he know what he and his brother will find waiting for them in Cincinnati. Meanwhile, you are on a mission to find out why exactly Crowley has sent a demon to come and find you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SPN spoilers, the usual supernatural violence, torture and gore that may not be suitable for all audiences.

Sam was riding in the Impala beside Dean while he was driving. Castiel asked them to go to Cincinnati, Ohio to look into a lead. There was a report that a demon went to some sort of tattoo parlor and hadn't been seen again.

No one was sure if it was related to Metatron, or if an angel under him had something to do with it. Dean was a little skeptical at first but in the end he agreed to go with Sam, hoping this wouldn't be some sort of wild goose chase. It's like they've left every stone unturned when it came to locating the former Scribe of God but they would come in empty handed every time and it was really getting under Dean's skin.

"This had better be worth it, other wise we're just wasting time when we could be looking into an actual lead, not to mention it's a waste of Baby's gas." Dean said with a bit of a grumble. Sam rolled his eyes at the last part of the remark.

"With the amount of credit card frauds we've undergone, I think the car's gas is the least of our worries." Sam said with an arched brow and Dean shrugged a bit, gaze still transfixed on the road.

The constant burning in Dean's arm was relentless with the mark. He knew that he had the urge to kill. Something needed to be done, he needed to kill something on this hunt to get some sort of relief, even if it was temporary.

Sam had told Dean not to bring the first blade along. At first, Dean complied but the second that Sam wasn't looking, he tucked it into his jacket for safe keeping. After all, what if Metatron just showed up spontaneously? What if they ran into more than just a handful of demons on this 'new lead' Cass sent them on? Bringing the first blade was a necessary precaution even if Sam didn't see it that way.

"Dean? You alright, man?" Sam asked. Dean perked up when he was broken from his thoughts. But the older brother nodded a little.

"Yeah. Just hoping that this lead won't be a waste. If we don't take care of this mess soon, who knows what that bastard will do. Metatron has to die and we can't afford any more screw ups. Not when we've lost enough people over it." Dean said.

"Then there's the fact that Cass is obviously having trouble finding what he needs. I should be over there helping him out. He needs some answers and those stupid angels don't know how to get it out of the other angels they capture. they don't know a damned thing about interrogation and who knows when things will get worse on his end." He continued on.

Sam frowned, understanding where Dean was coming from. He couldn't blame Dean for feeling bad about Kevin. Nobody wanted something like that to happen. He was just a kid. And Kevin didn't deserve Gadreel killing him like that.

"Dean, if they need help with some interrogation tactics then I'm sure that Cass will give us a call. Especially considering your... experience. And I'm just as angry as you are about what happened to Kevin. I get what you're going through. But unless we have any other leads to follow, this is the best one that we've got for the time being." Sam said.

Dean took in Sam's words and his jaw tensed, his grip tightened on the steering wheel as his brows furrowed together. The mere mention of what happened to that kid was enough to make his blood boil.

"How could you possibly understand what I'm going through, huh? There's been enough shit in our lives, this mark is the only thing that has brought any hope in this whole damned disaster, and you do nothing but nag about the so called effects you think it gives me. It's always one argument after another over the one thing that can bring all of this shit to an end." Dean practically snapped.

Sam was a little shocked that he'd burst like that, yet he wasn't really surprised at what had been eating at his brother. He knew Dean wasn't one to open up about how he felt, but he didn't to a good job at hiding the fact that he was bothered either.

"Okay, wrong choice of words. But putting an end to this mess is a part of why we're out here right? As long as it's a step forward, then it's at least a step closer to the goal. It's a Hell of a lot better than taking five steps back, right?" Sam said with that typically optimistic tone that he seemed to have most of the time. The tone that Dean didn't always understand when things seemed to be at its darkest.

The real reason for coming to Ohio right now was because Cass had a hunch that it wasn't one of Metatron's angels that may have killed that demon. Maybe this person would be able to assist in killing Metatron. But what Sam was hoping for the most was that this would be the break they needed. That this lead would be the foretold, missing daughter of Cain. Dean needed a win, and Sam was hoping that this would be some kind of win for the both of them. Someone to help ease the suffering, help Dean gain some kind of control.

"Yeah, I guess you're right, Sammy. But if this thing turns out to be a disaster then you won't be hearing the end of it."

"Yeah, I've already gathered that." Sam said with a slight smirk.

Dean rolled his eyes a little before he leaned forward and pushed a button on the Impala's radio to play one of his cassette tapes. The next thing they knew, they were listening to Would by Alice in Chains.

"Well this is kind of different from your classic rock you normally play isn't it?" Sam asked and Dean shrugged.

"Nothing wrong with a little variety once in a while."

But once there was silence in the car again, outside of the music that was being played, Dean focused on the road. It would be another day before they'd get to Ohio. Then they could get this little 'lead' over and done with. Then he'd be able to kill some sort of monster or he could check on Castiel and see if he needed help with gathering information from Metatron's angels.

Either way, the mark was thirsting for blood, and Dean was trying his best to hold it together to keep Sam off his back.

You were growing antsy. The burning mark on your arm was more intense than it had ever been before. And somehow, you were sensing that there was another barer of the mark. They hadn't killed in a while and you could almost feel the thirst that person was going through as well.

But you were having enough of it. You had to know who this person was and you were willing to do anything to get to the bottom of it. Because surely this person, this mortal, had no idea what they were getting themselves into.

Needless to say, your little shop was closed for the day and your appointments were cancelled of course. And now, you were in your own cellar beneath your store.

There you had a summoning circle, an iron chair, and there was a demon trapped inside since the devil's trap was engraved into the iron shackles attached to the arms of the chair.

"What do you want with me? We know you killed one of the other demons just for stepping here. If you don't want to be found then why did you summon me?" The demon asked.

"Oh, Sweetie, who said that you were the one in charge of asking questions?" You asked with a chuckle as you moved your rolling table. On top of that table was your, what you liked to call, interrogation utensils.

You stooped down to the demon you had in a bind and you held your blade up to its chin. Now, this was no ordinary blade. Granted it wasn't as legendary as the First Blade, nor was it the demon blade that Ruby used to carry, but it was something similar that killed demons, angels, and monsters alike.

"Now, don't make this easy on me. It's been a while since I've enjoyed a good, slow kill." You smirked and the demon's eyes widened. The rumors were right. You were just as menacing as your father before you.

"But what if I don't know anything?" The demon asked as it regained its composure and attempted to be as unphased by you. You cocked your head to the side and shrugged a little before placing the side of the demon's cheek and watched the steam appear from the vessel's flesh since the blade was previously dipped in Holy Water. The demon hissed and gritted his teeth as if he tried not to scream.

"Well then, I get to have my own kind of fun. It's not like I can let you go now that you know where I am." You said.

"Now. Why is your pathetic king searching for me, hmm?" You asked and the demon's eyes shown black as he glared at you.

"If I'm going to die anyway, I'll never tell you." But then you slashed his cheek, causing him to wince as the wound started to bubble up due to the Holy Water.

"Oh, but I think you will. Now I'll ask you a second time: Why is Crowley looking for me."

"I will not betray the King of Hell."

Your brows narrowed. You had told him not to make it easy, but you needed to know why you were being sought after. You had to know what Crowley already knew incase you needed to go into hiding again.

So, you took your knife and cut off one of the demon's fingers before you dipped the wound in salt. Hearing the cries of the demon was a little annoying but you had to admit, there was finally a soothing feeling in your arm from the mark you were born with. It was finally some sort of release.

"Y-Your mark! He wants to know more about your mark to help a Winchester." The demon said.

You perked up when he finally gave some kind of information. You supposed losing a finger would have that effect on almost anyone.

"So your King that's too good to get his hands dirty is helping a human? Who is this Winchester?" You asked as the demon's head hung low.

You rolled your eyes with annoyance and you lifted the blade to his chin to make him have eye contact with you.

"If you have that much of a problem looking at me, I'll gouge those eyes right out of your skull. Now talk." You said as your eyes started to glow red.

"His name is Dean. Crowley was having trouble with the Knight of Hell, Abaddon. He went to Dean for help and they found your father. Your father gave Cain the Mark and Crowley wants to know more about it to hold the information over the Winchester's head to get what he wants, I assume." The demon spilled.

You lifted a brow as your eyes changed back to their normal color and you stood upright.

So, Crowley wanted some leverage, huh? You supposed that he couldn't exactly find the information he needed from some kind of book outside of the fabled Book of the Damned. No one seemed to know where that book was and that would have at least some kind of information Crowley could be after.

"That's all I know. let me go. I won't tell anyone where you are. Just spare me." The demon pleaded and you looked down at him again.

"Oh, Sweet Cheeks. I can't go around trusting demons not to give away my location. I'm sorry but you're just going to have to suffer." You said.

And with that, you placed your hand on the demon's head and your eyes glowed red once more. Suddenly, the demon started to let out a bloodcurdling scream and his eye sockets were glowing red. Blood started dripping from his eyes and the drops started rolling down his face like tears. Red droplets came out of his pores like sweat before turning into a black ooze.

Yet you looked at the demonic scum without a hint of expression in your eyes. But finally, finally there was a relief from the constant pain in your arm.

Once the demon was finally dead, you looked at the body. That has been the second demon you killed. But at least you got the information you wanted.

"Dean Winchester.." You muttered the name before looking down at the mark on your arm.

It hadn't even been two minutes but the pain was back like you needed to kill yet again. You placed your knife on the table and let your thumb graze over your mark.

"Dean, you don't realize what you've done."

Thank you guys so much for reading! I know I got this out a little later than I would have liked to've published but I had a friend from Germany come and visit me. I am hoping to get Part 3 released soon! Thank you for your continued support! If you would like to be tagged let me know! Wishing all of you the best!!

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@johannelis2302nely @justtrying2getby-blog @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @alternativeprincess @doctorlexilouwhosblog

[sotogalmo]

7 — 9:40

As per said by my brother @starry-skiez . Here is more info of my freak king/aff, and the sane one + how they might know Flor ( @rockwgooglyeyes . More info on Yume !!!)

Yume is more of a wanderer human(that what he says) but he says he shared the same guardian as Sebastian does (Sebastian has only seen him once, and it was,, not nice?? Yume is indifferent to Seb, but there were some threats towards him. Sebastian doesn't really care tho, since he would NEVER even do all of that stuff to his guardian's kid; because WHY WOULD he? At BEST he tolerates Guardian Von's kid; Ald. At his lowest? Sebastian wants to LEAVE y'all).

Yume is ’grounded‘ in reality. Yume, as his name means, is 'dream'. Which has given him the nickname of 'dream boy'.

His actual owner/guardian is unknown, as he says he's a "wanderer", but he has lots of knowledge of Sebastian's guardian, and has a very deep bond with Ald (probably since childhood for both?).

To which, he can relate to “There I am! There I am again! I am the rot and the ache beneath your skin. I am the angel sent down from above. I am the cancer swimming deep in your blood- Praise be the heavens, praise me I'm the lord!” in a small way. Especially the angel part, via the fact that sometimes Ald forgets to spend time with him. But Yume doesn't care, because at least he can be a safe haven for Ald! That's all he cares for really (even though, sometimes he thinks it would be better if he really was Ald's pet human, which causes a bit of a one sided rivalry with Sebastian).

Yume is a typical "honor student". He is good at what he does, and he's even better at following his friend Ald! (He does what Ald wants to do; going with a mindset of "this is what best friends do" type). To follow that 'honor student' trope, when in Anakt he's very well respected by some because of how he's also a safe place for others! But to also follow the "anime boy" look he has (Ald watches some animes that have been salvaged such for pure entertainment and he has said that Yume is somewhat of a anime boy, so that's what he has followed on doing; the big eyes is especially one that makes him similar to anime boys (the old 70s-90s style). It's because he was mainly made the way he is. Like those animals who have big eyes!), he wears clothing similar to one, and has that visible red mark on his right shoulder that mimics a student council uniform.

But he does have friends! Uncanny as he is, but they are quite fine in his books (he likes his friends, but his main priority is Ald). His first friend has a thing for spiders, so he knows some facts about spiders. His second friend loves ice cream! They all wander together, and both of them have met Ald but don't really hold any strong opinions on Ald.

Yume has a pet bird!

-Yume does self-harm, as a way to deal with his obsessive thoughts of Ald (but it's also done by impulse? If something is so much, he goes that route; he's possibly autistic, and I possibly might be projecting but I've never done actual real self harm) / He depersonalizations/derealizations (sometimes) quite a lot, so he does self-harm as to feel reality but it's mainly done by pinching himself like what normal people do when they think they are dreaming / maybe has BPD? But I won't fully say because I don't know how to do it well (but from what I'm reading and learning about, it's very likely he has BPD (but he dissociates a bit too much so who knows) and so do I,, possibly)

Yume has a very unhealthy attachment to Ald, and that bleeds into what he does for his entire life. He hates being alone/being without Ald, and so when he was sent to Anakt he was very close to not being alive. But the closest thing he has to ever be close with is Sebastian, so he's conflicted on that (one hand, no that's my rival. He has the spot I want — on the other hand, he's the only one I know. He can tell me what Ald does when I'm not around!)

Yume carries a razor blade with him, just like how one of his friends carries a wand and the other one always seemingly having a teacup with her!

Sebastian was taken from his family to an adoption center a few days before he got adopted by Guardian Von, as a birthday gift for his son/kid; Ald who turned.. 15- in human years (to me Aliens have a faster? or slower age growth)

Sebastian does not like aliens as far as he KNOWS, but at best he tolerates Von, Ald and the weird cats that Von has. Sebastian can fight! He has, and that was only when he hit Ald in the face with a cross (that was lying down somewhere, their house is filled with so many weird things. But Sebastian knows not to question it anymore, since he has this "aliens will always be like that" type of mindset? He always assumes the worst, so meeting kind alien owners is even weirder to him).

As said before, Sebastian's counterpart is Flor in some ways. Sebastian is dressed in a pierrot type of clown fashion (black and white WITH SOME color, he's mainly only wearing black and white to fit his view points and such) while Flor is more of those colorful and cheerful clowns that are sent to birthday parties and such.

Sebastian is a bit witty, in some ways. But he's too scared to do anything he says. He's a follower, and a normal student at Anakt Garden (but he really doesn't like the aliens and some of the kids who are very detached from reality; Yume, and others who are somewhat similar to Yume?, but also observers too. He doesn't like how Azure ( @4listr ) is so dead, and not wanting to live or smth like that).

His uniform is somewhat akin to a mouse? To have it be a play on the words of "cat and mouse fight". He has a painted on white face that doesn't seem to be coming off anytime soon, the same with his black circle cheeks (while Flor's face paint/make up is not permanent! Flor is more free then Sebastian is).

Sebastian has some grey hair due to the stress of being kidnapped and being treated as a pet (and the general fact that the house he was living in has a lot of shit in it, that can kill him). Sebastian has freckles! Three of them are most visible tho

Sebastian knows Flor via how he's compared to her quite a lot. How they are a bit similar in looks, and the whole clown vibes they share (which would get swapped? Flor round 2 would change into a pierrot, and I don't know of Sebastian)

Yume only lightly knows of Flor. He's very indifferent towards her, but finds her quite similar to Ald in the way of how weird she is. So, Yume is very fond of her! (Though, he misses Ald even more, and doesn't like the fact that Flor and Rosca are together. Because that should be him and Ald)

[theragethatisdesire]

congratulations on your milestone!! 😚 i saw you were doing prompts so may i present you with 12 and 16 with reader and brat tamer/mean erwin? angsty and smutty please? 🤭 any kinks you like! something there's not enough smut about him sighh 🫶🏽

{part 2: <<<< also about that erwin prompt please PLEASEEE IF YOU COULD ADD SPIT KINK/SLAPPING IN IT I WANT ERWIN TO LITERALLY TAKE OIT THAT RAGE ON MENRHWNDH sorry about that im ovulating but at the end of the day its your wish hehe ily thank u <3}

firstly, thank you so much!!!! so happy to have you here and hanging out my love!!! i am loving all these prompts really forcing me to flex my writing muscles bc i have never considered writing for erwin but i really wanted to give it a shot, so thank you also for your request :') please find my attempt down below lol

"Rough day?" you say, closing the door behind you quietly as you sneak into the Commander's office. You eye him, leaned back in his desk chair, a glass of bourbon in his hand, amber liquid swirling in the tumbler.

"It wasn't great by any means," he confirms, slugging back a mouthful of bourbon, grimacing as it slides down his throat, "how was your day, angel?"

"It was fine," you shrug, stepping around his desk to lean back on it, "Levi was a nightmare."

"As always," he shrugs, smirks, but the smile doesn't meet his eyes. You frown.

"Something's really gotten under your skin, hasn't it?"

"It has," he agrees, finishing his heavy glass in one quick gulp. When the glass hits the wood of his desk, one of his hands comes up to snake around your hip. "I'm feeling a bit...frustrated."

"Is that so?" You feel a knowing smile tugging at the corner of your mouth, scratching your fingernails lightly along the hardened muscle of his forearm.

"It is," he nods slightly, angles his chair towards you, "care to help your Commander unwind?"

You know he's using his title against you, wielding it like a blade, but you love it. He digs his fingers into your hip, eliciting a little suggestive noise from you.

"Did you just..." Erwin sucks in a sharp breath, lets his hand trail up to your breast, "did you just moan, little one?"

"Mhm," you hum, letting your head fall back as he palms at your chest over your uniform.

"Have you been thinking about me today, already all riled up? Answer me, pet," Erwin grants you a soft smile, a caring, yet cold twist of the lips.

"I guess you could say that," you breathe out, arching your back towards his touch. Erwin quirks his mouth cruelly, eyes darkening.

"Strip."

"And if I say no?" You punctuate your statement with a whine when he pinches through the fabric of your uniform, twisting one of your nipples harshly.

"Don't push your luck," Erwin says, firm and in charge like he is in any situation, "I'm not in the mood."

The authority in his tone has you sliding off of his desk, fumbling with the buttons of your clothing. Once you've gotten every last layer of your uniform off, you meet Erwin's dark eyes, chest tightening as he lets his gaze trace every inch of you.

"On the desk. Spread your legs for me," Erwin stands to his full height, towering over you. He hisses appreciatively at the telltale glisten that's already visible between your legs, brings one hand down to rub softly at your clit and one hand to your chin, jerking your face up to look at him.

"Erwin-"

"Open up," he murmurs, wrenching your jaw open for you before you can follow his instructions. Erwin spits into your mouth, some of it splattering across your face, just as he pushes two long fingers into your cunt. Some horrible, choked moan slips from you just before he wrenches your mouth closed so you can swallow what he's given you. You're too loud for Erwin's liking, apparently, because it earns you a smack to the cheek.

"You're in my office," he hisses, eyes narrowing into slits as he works his fingers in you, "have you forgotten yourself? I'm your Commander. Not another word from you, am I clear?"

"Mhm," you whimper quietly, eyes rolling back in your head as Erwin picks up the pace.

"Better start behaving now, pet," Erwin growls, nipping at your ear, "you have a long night ahead of you."