#but the things that are mean to me. cruel even. my demons or whatever. they live in there too

[deoidesign]

A short comic I made for an anthology

[mariasont]

collagen crisis - A.H

skincare fixes a lot of things, but it won't stop you from spiraling over how much older aaron looks since he started dating you

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader warnings: a little bit of angst with a happy ending, avoiding serious conversations, miscommunication, relationship anxiety, reader being dramatic, fluffy ending <3 wc: 2.4k request: here

You should have been happy. Just being here with him, sitting prettily on the couch, watching Aaron work from across the room.

Technically, this was spending time together. At least, in the most literal sense. But it didn’t feel like it. Not when he was hunched over his laptop at the coffee table, composing something far more critical than whatever little fantasy you were spinning — one where he’d finally look up, reach for you, and decide whatever he was doing could wait.

You let out a sigh, sinking even deeper into the cushions like they might swallow you whole and spare you from the absolute nightmare that was this week.

First, you overslept (horrifying), which meant skipping your morning makeup routine (soul-crushing). Then, the demon printer decided to sabotage you, jamming right when you needed to print Aaron’s meeting notes. And if all that wasn’t bad enough, some pointless, stupid, boring admin thing had you running around like a crazy person all week, like bureaucracy had personally conspired to keep you from your boyfriend.

After days of missing him, you were finally here, finally close… and he wasn’t even looking at you.

You propped your chin on your hand, eyes glued to him like he was the sun and you were some poor little flower desperate for light.

He was always fascinating — the most beautiful thing in any room, any world even. But clearly, he had other priorities.

“Aaron,” you purred, practically dripping his name in honey. “Are you mad at me?”

No response. No flick of an eye. You pouted, nose wrinkling in disbelief. That move had a 100% success rate, until now.

“Did you know stress ages you? You should really take a break before you get all wrinkly.”

A noncommittal hum. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, undeterred. “Stress literally destroys collagen. And collagen is really important, because it keeps everything tight and smooth. And did you know that working too much is the number one cause of frown lines?” You squinted. “Like, look at you right now — totally frowning.”

Nothing.

You sighed dramatically, rising from the couch, bare feet padding across the floor as you came to stand over him, arms crossing beneath your chest.

“You know,” you mused, tapping a finger against your chin, “I should start taking my theories to someone who appreciates them. Like Derek. He listens. Actually engages. And —” A pause. “ — he always says I have the prettiest skin. “

Aaron’s fingers paused. “Don’t even think about it.”

You clambered onto the coffee table, settling in right across from him, close enough that he had to look at you.

“I mean, if you’re too busy, I should explore my options, right? Maybe find a guy who —”

“I’m not ignoring you for fun,” he interrupted, rubbing his jaw. “I’m busy because I have to be. You know that.”

Your playful smile wavered, wilting under a sudden frost. He wasn’t just distracted. He wasn’t just busy. His brow was tight with strain, his jaw set in a profound way that told you this wasn’t about focus but stress. Exhaustion. He was drowning and you were whining about being left on the shore.

I’m not ignoring you for fun.

Right. No, this wasn’t a game. It wasn’t a ploy. He wasn’t looking past you to be cruel, he was looking past you because there were things more important than your vanity, deeper than your hunger for his attention. His burdens were real, the life-or-death kind, and here you were, pouting over the trivial. Over collagen. Over the absurd notion that Derek Morgan could actually take him from you.

Ugh. Guilt. The worst emotion. It was sticky and persistent, like mascara smudges that refused to budge no matter how hard you scrubbed. You swallowed, hands skating over your thighs as if you could rub it out, erase it, pretend you weren’t feeling it at all.

“Right,” you mumbled, forcing a small smile, even though it felt a little wobbly. “Sorry, baby. I know.”

His lips parted, but you didn’t allow him to turn this into something serious.

You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before resting your hand against his jaw. His skin was warm, a little rough from the day’s stubble.

“You’re still, like, so handsome,” you murmured, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “And I love you, obviously.” A breath. A softer smile. “So it’s not like I’d leave you for a younger man or anything.”

You meant for it to sound teasing. Light. But even you could hear the truth beneath it like a half-hidden bruise, the unspoken  I know I’m difficult, I know I’m exhausting, but please still love me anyway.

Then you hopped off the coffee table, cheeks toasty, heart fluttering in a way that didn’t feel entirely good. You took a step back, suddenly unsure of what to do with yourself.

You don’t even remember leaving.

One moment, you were in Aaron’s living room, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and the next, you were unlocking your home door, feeling too much and not enough all at once, like you’d been yanked out of a dream before it could end adequately.

It was fine. You were fine. 

You just needed to do your skincare routine — because skincare always made things better. It was science. The universal laws of serums and self-care. You’d scrub away the bad feelings, tone down the overthinking (literally — with toner), and slather on a fresh start in the form of overpriced moisturizer.

Because if you just focused on the cleaners, on the circular motions, on fixing something, maybe you wouldn’t feel so much like you needed him to come along and fix you.

You were being dramatic.

But still, you stared at yourself in the mirror, fingertips smoothing combinations into your skin, your thoughts hyper-focused on him.

His face, his worry lines, the little creases at his temples that did not exist before you came waltzing into his life in a cloud of perfume and poor decision-making. And the gray hairs. He didn’t have those before either.

You were like stress in human form, a walking, talking wrinkle-generator. And wasn’t that a fun little realization — that your presence was something his body wore, that your love had a terrible side effect.

And okay, yes, you loved the way he looked. He was the hottest man you’d ever seen, full stop, end of discussion. He wore stress the other way men wore tailored suits. But that didn’t mean you wanted to be the reason for it. Weren’t you supposed to make his life better? Less stressful? More fun?

You sniffled, trying — really trying — to push the thought away, to shove it into some quiet little corner of your mind where it couldn’t hurt.

The knock at your door made you jump, a startled squeak slipping out. The serum bottle slipped from your fingers, clattering into the sink before rolling to a shaky stop.

Oh. Oh, no.

This was it. You knew this was going to happen eventually. Of course you were going to be a victim of some random, senseless crime, because you were too pretty to be left unattended. They always went for the pretty ones first. Statistically. Probably.

Grabbing the closest thing you could maybe pass as a weapon — your hairbrush, heavy-ish, but hardly lethal — you crept toward the door. 

You pressed up on your toes to check the peephole — Aaron had very sternly instructed you never to open the door without looking first — and oh. It was him. You let out a massive breath, forehead knocking lightly against the door as you deflated.

You unlocked it quickly, yanking it open.

“Oh my gosh, Aaron, do you want to give me a heart attack?” you gasped, shoving the hairbrush into his chest with all the righteous indignation of someone personally victimized by his existence. “I was about to murder you.”

He caught it without effort, blinking down at the would-be weapon. “With this?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Okay, yes, I panicked. But let’s not pretend I wouldn’t have landed at least one good hit.”

He smiled like he almost agreed, but then it faded, replaced by something quieter. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Can I come in, sweetheart?”

“Oh! Yes, duh, sorry.” You spun on your heel, nearly tripping over your fuzzy slippers as you ushered him inside. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

His frowned. “Did you not see my texts?”

“My phone is charging.”

“So you just… disappeared, ignored your phone, and then nearly assaulted me with a hairbrush?”

You shut the door behind him. “Aren’t you so glad you’re dating me?”

“Immensely.”

His tone was dry, but the way he reached for you was anything but. He hooked his fingers into the belt loops of your robe, reeling you in, and suddenly you were pressed against him, chest to chest. 

“I seriously am glad I’m dating you.”-

Your stomach squeezed so tight it was borderline uncomfortable.

So you did what any reasonable person would do. You avoided it entirely.

“Well, obviously, I am a delight.”

Aaron’s finger brushed against your cheek, tucking a stray strand behind your ear with an almost cautious tenderness, like you were made of glass and one wrong move would have you slipping through his fingers.

Because he knew you. Knew how easily you could float away, lost in your own world, distracted by the new beautiful, fleeting thing. And he knew, just as easily, how you ran when something felt too real.

So he was careful. Always careful.

“You are a delight,” he murmured, sure as ever. 

You blinked up at him, lips parting before you scoffed, shaking your head. “Ugh, boring. Teasing isn’t fun when you just agree with me.”

“I’m not teasing,” he said, lips twitching. Then, softer, sneaking the words past your defenses, “I need you to understand how much I love you. You are the single most important thing in my life.”

Flattening your hands over his chest, you let out a totally normal, not at all panicked giggle. “Gosh, you’re so sincere,” you blurted. “Do you… practice this?”

His brow arched. “Do you practice avoiding serious conversations?”

“Why do we have to have a serious conversation right now? Can’t we just, like, make out instead?”

His eyes track downward, to your lips. You see the moment he hesitates, a war playing out in the slight twitch of his fingers, the way his throat bobs when he swallows. For a moment, you think he might actually do it — lean in, forget whatever moral battle he’s fighting, and take you up on the offer. But then, his jaw tightens, and with a slow exhale, he shakes his head.

“Because I was an ass earlier,” he mutters, raking a hand through his hair like he’s punishing himself for even considering otherwise.

“I knew you were going to say that.”

“Well,” he murmured, “if you knew it, then maybe you should let me say it properly.”

You loop your arms around his neck, pulling him just a little closer, brushing your nose against his like it’s instinct.

“You weren’t being an ass, Aaron. You were just being a responsible, busy adult, unlike me who was apparently having a full-blow crisis over not being the center of your universe for two whole hours.”

Aaron signs, thumb stroking a slow line against your back.

“You might’ve been a little dramatic about it,” he concedes with a teasing smile, “but I also knew you had a rough week.” His lips press into a thin line, self-reproach creeping into his voice. “You never complain, so I didn’t expect you to say anything. But I should’ve seen it. I did see it — I just got caught up.” His voice lowers. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to beg me to look at you.”

“Still doesn’t excuse me being, like, a giant problem to your blood pressure. I mean, I basically force you to love me, and I’m sure that’s exhausting.” You flash him a bright, overcompensating grin, but his brow furrows, unimpressed.

Aaron’s hands slip from your waist to cup your face, tilting your chin up so you can’t look anywhere but him.

“Do you honestly think you’re making this difficult for me?” he asks, incredulous. “Loving you isn’t something I have to convince myself to do.”

His lips press together again. “I love you because I couldn’t stop if I tried. Because it’s the easiest, most natural thing I’ve ever done.” A small breath of laughter leaves him. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Loving you isn’t exhausting, honey — it’s the only thing that isn’t.”

Your eyes burn, emotion bubbling up faster than you can stop, and you let out a watery laugh. 

You wish you could take it as easily as he gives it. You wish you could believe it the way he does. But Aaron, steady and certain, loves you like it's gravity instead of a fragile thing that could slip through your fingers if you hold it wrong.

You love him. You love him with something wild, something you could never fully put into words, no matter how many times you said the three words to him.

And maybe that's okay. Maybe you don't need words, because he's already looking at you like he knows. He's felt your love in every touch, every breath, every time you make his life louder and messier.

Maybe that's why your fingers are trembling again.

Because this, this love, this life, this man, is the closest thing to real magic you've ever known.

“That might be the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” you whisper, tracing your nails over his neck.

Aaron tilts his head, brow furrowing slightly like he hates the thought that this is some grand declaration instead of something you should have always known.

"Then let me say it more often."

Your lips smush together, trying so hard not to smile, not to let him know how much that gets to you.

And, well. You can't have him knowing he's winning, so you tilt your head, pursing your lips, pretending to consider something much more important than the way your heart is currently spiraling out of control.

"Well, if you really love me that much..." You tap your chin, faux-thoughtful. "I feel like the next logical step would be a truly earth-shattering makeout session."

Aaron groans — part exasperation, part fondness — but then grabs you, kissing you hard enough that you laugh into his mouth.

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanded! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[flippinpancakes64]

cullens w/ a reader who lovesss to cuddle?

The Cullens with a Cuddly S/O

Currently fighting the sleep demons rn so Idk if this will even make sense but whatever full send

Thank you for requesting and I hope you like this

Edward:

We already know he's down

I mean like half of the first book/movie is him watching Bella sleep

He just likes to be nearby

So cuddling up to your side is no burden to him

He'll ask a lot if you're too cold or if you want him to move

He just wants you to be comfortable

After you've established that you do, indeed, like his cuddles, expect them all the time

If the time or place allows him to be right by your side, he is there

"Hey I just rented a new movie, do you wanna come over and watch it?"

"What movie?"

"Uh-"

"I'm on my way, have my blankets ready."

Alice:

She's a pretty energetic person

So I feel like she'd need to either be doing something or talking

So yes she will cuddle, but she needs the TV on

Or she needs to be talking your ear off

She loves being so close though

She's like a lizard she loves the warmth

She doesn't mind if you fall asleep, she'll keep talking

But especially if it's late at night, she loves being so close to you

Btw she's the little spoon or literally laying on top of you

I would recommend investing in a nice heated blanket

Jasper:

I have a feeling he'd love it

He strikes me as the type to be able to stare at a wall for hours on end and not get bored

So he doesn't mind laying with you the whole night

He would lay in one spot for days if you wanted him to

He would be so happy when you asked him the first time though

He has a bit of a hard time grasping that you actually do love him, so small reminders like this go a long way

Is another one who's hyper-aware

Constantly making sure you're comfortable

He would find your even breaths and calm mind soothing

It's his new favorite couples activity btw

Rosalie:

I've mentioned it before but I think she's active at all hours

Either she's at school, hunting, or working on her cars

She just doesn't like to be bored

So cuddling isn't her favorite

Not to say she won't do it

Just that she won't do it for super long stretches of time

She'll cuddle for a movie, or until you go to sleep

But then she likes to get back to doing something

It's understandable, you can go to sleep, she can't

If you ask her to, though, she will stay the whole night

And she won't complain

She also doesn't have a preference on cuddling position

Emmett:

He's definitely more into like casual cuddling

Does that make sense?

Like he loves holding you close on the couch while he's watching a game

And he loves sitting you in his lap when he's playing a card game or doing homework

But he doesn't really like laying in bed for hours

So sort of similar to Rosalie

He just gets restless

He's squirmy too

He wakes you up throughout the night because he moves so much

Cruel injustice

But on the bright side, if he was able to sleep he'd be a loud ass snorer so at least you don't have to deal with that

Esme:

She would be another snuggle enjoyer

She loves the closeness of it

It makes her feel so connected to you

And she has no qualms about when or where

It's the middle of the day and she's outside working on the garden but you want to cuddle?

Okay just let her shower first

She would prefer to be the little spoon

Idk why that's just how it is

Carlisle:

Carlisle "Cuddle" Cullen

Anytime, anywhere

He just misses you a lot when he's at work

So he loves to make up for lost time by having you right there with him

Loves doing paperwork with you in his lap

Or having his arms around you at all times

And of course he will lay with you for the whole night

He tends to lay on his back

But that's just his natural

He will move however you need him to

He only cuddles fully clothed tho

He knows he's cold

So he knows you will need the extra layers between you two

Vampire! Bella:

She's always down

Sleeping is one of the things she misses the most about being human

So laying there with you while you sleep is the closest she can get to the real thing

She likes to cuddle while facing you

Face to face yk

But her one bad habit is that she forgets that she is freezing

Chronically puts her hands under your shirt or her toes behind your knees

"Ah! Cold!"

"Shit, sorry"

[losers-clvb]

possession sam winchester x ruby x angel!reader

content: mentions of (kidnapping, shackles, punishment via cutting, non-consensual voyeurism), stockholm syndrome, manipulation, coercion, demon blood sam, sam and ruby are possessive and mean, sam is manipulatively soft, ruby is manipulatively mean, praise, language, religious themes, smut (oral sex (fem and male receiving), dirty talk, edging, size kink perhaps, marking/bruising, unprotect piv penetration, face sitting, implied cockwarming), canon typical blood play (think sam with the demon blood, i don't know what else to call it), perhaps some fluff if you twist it enough

word count: 4.9k

note: everyone say "thank you smin!" for inspiring this with our feral chats over messaging. i may have missed some warnings, please let me know if i did. i'll say this until my lungs give out: LET ME INTO YOUR MARRIAGE, JARED AND GEN!!

The cool metal of your runed shackles weighed your hands down, forcing them to rest on your knees.

Here you were, again, praying out for help, again.

It was a lost cause. You’d been locked up here -- some hidden away cabin -- for longer than you could even keep track of. Every prayer, every beg, for rescue had gone unanswered. Still, you couldn’t stop your kneeling against the floorboards of the bedroom, hands clutched together.

“Mmm…,” you heard purred out from behind you, “still at it?”

You ignored the voice. He was cruel. Cruel and mean and so fucking hot that he had lured you into this whole trap.

Sam Winchester was supposed to be kind. He was supposed to be the kind of boy you smile and flutter your lashes at to get whatever you want. Something had changed since your first meeting with the man.

You suspected that something was your other captor, who had been significantly missing for days.

The thumping of boots on the creaky wood floor made you shiver, and you quickly mumbled the rest of your prayer. Cold fingertips grazed against the bit of spine that pushed against the skin of your bent neck. You hated the way you loved it.

“They’re not coming.” Sam hummed. “Your family no longer deems you worth the effort.”

You swallowed, lip quivering. You were scared of Sam, yes, but not because he’d hurt you. He’d simply sat back and watched as Ruby sliced into your skin after your first, and last attempt at escape. You’d looked to him for help. All he had to offer you was a look of faux sympathy. You knew the truth from the shimmer of something dark in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. You didn’t need to explain the apology. It’d been the only thing you’d said since he had caught you in the woods last week, your weak body thrown over his shoulder.

“Oh, I know you are.” He tutted condescendingly, giving you a soft smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He brushed a hand over your hair and you leaned into it. “But bad girls need punishment.”

“Where’s Ruby?” You asked. The words threw him off-guard, but he didn’t show it.

“She’s out. Just you and me right now, angel.” Sam’s voice was so soft, so calming, you’d forgotten your momentary fear of him.

“Don’t call me that,” you immediately responded, but had the sense to add, “please.”

“Oh, so quick to abandon your faith?” Sam raised his eyebrows and you looked away. Your eyes were watering and you felt the need to bite your bottom lip to keep from crying.

You knew it was wrong. You shouldn’t give up. Not ever. That was where angels fell into trouble. They gave in to emotion, to the overwhelming sense of dread when their Father ignored their prayers. You had thought you were better than them, but here you were. You should have known you were weak when you had let Sam, the old Sam, kiss you.

“Oh, my angel.” Sam’s voice weaved into your brain, growing roots into the smallest parts of you. You didn’t correct him this time.

“Remember, they abandoned you first,” he cupped a hand on your cheek, using his thumb to brush away the stray tears, “they left you here to rot. Who was by your side through the days and nights?”

“You,” you whimpered, your chains rattling with your shifting movement, “and Ruby.” You watched a soft but wicked smile cross Sam’s face.

Neither of you acknowledged the fact that the days and nights were his and Ruby’s faults. You wouldn’t be suffering like this if it wasn’t for them abducting you. They’d hoped your loss in Heaven would spur an army of angels for the rescue, an army they knew they could defeat. When no one came for you, the two had come to a silent agreement: you were theirs, forever.

“That’s right,” he cooed. He knelt to your level, eyes raking over your worn nightgown. “And who always knows best?”

“You and Ruby.” You echoed, the names tumbling from your lips on instinct. They’d flipped some switch in your brain long ago, but it had taken time for you to truly follow everything they said.

Alone, you were still that hellbent-on-escape little angel they’d trapped, but in their presences? You grew weaker until all that you thought was what they had fed you.

Sam and Ruby both knew, it wouldn’t be long before you were wholly theirs.

“Mhm,” Sam trailed a finger over your collarbone. He just wanted to feel your skin. The warmth reminded him that you were real.

There had been a time, before Ruby, when he loved you in a way that was holy. He wanted to give you the world. Your risk of falling had kept him from doing all of the things he really wanted. He had dared a small kiss, in the moments before he’d faced a nest of vampires alone. He couldn’t die without knowing how you tasted.

Now, with the demon blood -- Ruby’s blood -- running through him, he wasn’t in the mood to compromise. If you would fall, then he and Ruby would catch you. Heaven didn’t deserve an angel like you.

They did.

They loved you in the only way they knew how, obsession, but it was love, no less.

“Can you take them off?” Your voice was meek. Terror ripped through you when Sam pulled his eyes back to yours. You were tempted to take it all back, beg for forgiveness for even asking, but Sam gave you a sad smile.

“The last time I took them off, I had to chase you through the woods like a rabbit.” Sam was right. The moment your shackles had left your wrists the week before, you had headbutted him in the nose and dashed out the door.

Ruby had tried to snatch you back up, but it was Sam with his long legs who had caught you. He’d knocked you to the ground before slinging you over his shoulder. Your widened eyes had caught sight of the blood streaming from his nose, the fire of rage burning in his eyes, and you immediately started your groveling.

Sobs of “I’m sorry” had left your throat and lungs raw. Ruby didn’t listen. She just sliced away at your forearm with your own blade. Her goal was made clear when you caught sight of the cuts.

She’d carved Mine into your skin. Mine meaning you would never get away from her, or Sam, for that matter.

Sam had pulled you into his arms after that, a pool of your blood staining his shirt. He didn’t care. He simply brought you to your room, a square space with only a bed, and wrapped your arm in gauze.

“I’m sorry,” you had quivered out again.

Sam smiled, kissing your forehead.

“I know.” He had responded before tucking you into your soft sheets and blankets.

That night, he’d fucked Ruby so hard he had seen stars.

“It won’t happen again, I swear.” You promised, shifting your knees again. You took Sam’s hands into yours, wrapping your fingers around them.

“I won’t run. Please, I’ll be a good girl.” You begged, bringing your forehead to where your hands connected. Sam loved this, watching you plead with him to get what you wanted. He wasn’t going to give in that easily, not yet, but it was a nice sight to have.

Then you said those words. You hadn’t known the impact it would have. You were just babbling on.

“Please, Sam,” you hesitated for just a moment, “I love you.”

It had been the first time you had said it. Ruby and Sam had dragged a vague confession-like thing out of you before, but this was the first time you dared to say those exact words. You meant them, in a twisted kind of way. That was the best part for him.

Sam dove onto you, lips smashing into yours. He’d kissed you before. Once as his old self, and dozens of times as this new version. It had only ever been something small, a peck lasting a few seconds if he was lucky.

This was different. He loved you, and you loved him. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He wouldn’t hold back anymore.

He moved his lips against yours hungrily. You melted into him, letting your mind drift away to a better place.

His hands worked at your shackles, the lock clicking open with the turn of a key. You sighed when they dropped to the floor. Your wrists were flushed red, the skin raw, but the weight was finally gone.

You stayed true to your word. You didn’t run. You were a good girl.

“Really, Sam?”

Her voice chilled you to the bone. Sam pulled away but you slumped into him, burying your face in his neck.

“Ruby,” Sam said, his hand splayed across your back to hold you close. He didn’t seem all too shocked to see her. You wondered how long she’d been there.

“One mutter of love from her and you’re rolling over like a dog.” Ruby stepped closer into the room, her eyes stuck on you clinging to Sam. “She’s lying.”

“No, she’s not.” Sam hooked a finger into your hair to pull it away from your face. “Isn’t that right, angel?”

You nodded, eyes closed. Ruby frightened you more than Sam. She’d been mean from the start. She’d also shown some softness to you, but nothing like Sam. You didn’t know if it was enough to compensate for her torture.

“Use your words,” he encouraged, tracing a finger on your cheek.

“I love you,” you said to Sam, then, after a second of contemplation, you opened your eyes and looked at Ruby. “And I love you.”

You watched something cross over her face. Something dark and lustful. She twisted her sneer into a smile and you kept your eyes locked on hers while she walked to you.

“She’s not gonna hurt you,” Sam soothed in your ear when you tensed up. “As long as you’re a good girl, she won’t hurt you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from whining when she finally reached you. You were still in Sam’s arms, but he’d moved one of his hands to rest on the back of Ruby’s thigh. Ruby narrowed her eyes.

“I don’t believe you.” She said, a challenging look in her eye. You let out a shaky breath, fear racing through you. She didn’t believe you?

“I-I love you, please, I swear.” You stuttered. You didn’t know what she would do if she thought you were lying. Your forearm throbbed in pain at the memory of your last punishment.

Ruby dragged her eyes to Sam, tilting her head in a silent message. He must have known how to decode her, because a second later he was standing next to her. You were left alone, on your knees, with Sam and Ruby towering over you. They held twin smirks at the sight of your widened eyes.

“Mmm, I don’t know,” Sam hummed, turning his head to Ruby, “I don’t believe her either.”

“She likes to lie.” Ruby agreed, nodding her head. Sam still looked at Ruby, but her eyes never left yours. Your pace quickened. They loved the fear radiating from you.

“No, no, I’m not lying,” you rushed out, “I love you, both of you, so much.” You scrambled closer to them, resting your head on Ruby’s stomach. Your hand grasped at Sam’s shirt. “Please believe me.”

“Prove it.”

Your trembling paused for a moment. You tilted your head up to look at Ruby and she smirked. Her fingertips danced over your cheek, landing on your lips. You just watched her, tears threatening to well back up.

“Show us how much you love us.” She pressed two fingers past your lips. You didn’t need to ask what she meant. You knew.

You’d heard them enough, the moans and grunts echoing through the thin cabin walls. They did it on purpose, you’d realized once. They were loud and messy and verbal in an attempt to lure you in. They’d hoped you would give in to their control faster if you heard what you were missing out on. It had worked, not in the way they had wanted, but you found yourself yearning for their dirty words during sex to be aimed at you.

You pressed your tongue against the pads of her fingers, sucking on them.

“Good girl.” She praised before pulling them out.

Your hands flew to the front of her jeans, hastily unbuttoning them. You tugged the denim down her legs, pulling her underwear with them.

“So fucking ready to please.” Sam mumbled, palming himself through his own jeans. He’d have your lips wrapped around him soon enough, but right now he wanted to watch. Ruby weaved her fingers into your hair, helping to guide your mouth where she wanted it the most.

You dragged your tongue through her folds. Your eyes fell shut at the taste.

“That’s right,” Ruby cooed when you got the rhythm down, “just like that, angel.” You looked up at her through your lashes, a swell of pride blooming in your chest when she moaned.

Sam placed his hand where Ruby’s lay tangled in your hair. He interlocked his fingers with hers. They were one, putting just the right amount of pressure on you to get Ruby biting back noises.

You trailed your hand to the front of Sam’s jeans. For a moment, you just brushed your thumb against his bulge, feeling the hard denim against your fingers. He rolled his hips, chasing the friction.

Sam bent his neck down to Ruby’s level. He kissed her hungrily. This was different from the way he’d kissed you. With you, he’d been starved of your touch for far longer. Ruby, he was comfortable with. The passion was still there, but Sam knew the best angle to slot their lips together.

Sam pulled her bottom lip in between his teeth when her mouth fell open. You had flicked the tip of your tongue against her clit and it had the effect you had hoped for.

“Knew you’d be good,” Sam growled at you, sucking on Ruby’s lip before moving to her neck.

With the help of Sam’s hand over your own, you were able to undress his bottom half. His cock sprang free, red and angry.

“I don’t know-,” you started to say when you saw Sam’s size, but Ruby clutched her hand around your jaw, making you look back at her.

“Don’t you love him?” She asked, a cruel spark running through her eyes.

You nodded.

She smiled and used her thumb to swipe up the mix of her arousal and your spit that was glistening on your chin. Her eyes rolled back when she wrapped her lips around the digit, sucking it clean. With a look from her, you knew you needed to do this. No, you corrected yourself, you wanted to do this.

You turned your attention to Sam, who was staring down at you while he stroked himself. He raised an eyebrow.

“C’mon, angel,” Ruby murmured, rubbing herself with her middle finger, “show Sammy how much you love him.”

You hesitated before wrapping a hand around Sam, just above his own. You noted the way your fingertips weren’t able to touch. A squeeze made Sam suck in a breath.

You kissed his leaking tip, the taste of him leaking through to your taste buds. Slowly, you pushed him past your lips. Your jaw dropped further and further as you took in more of him. You stopped when he brushed against the back of your throat.

“Aww, poor angel can’t fit it all in.” Ruby mocked in a sweet voice. She pushed slightly on your head, forcing you closer to Sam’s abdomen. Your breath hitched as you tried not to gag.

A smile twitched onto Sam’s face at the sight.

“See how she’s taking it,” Ruby purred to Sam and pushed you further, “she was made for this -- made for us.”

Sam steadily let the air out of his lungs, dropping his head forward when your throat constricted into a swallow. He swooped his head lower, nipping at Ruby’s cheekbone. He still had his hand twisted with hers in your hair, but he took his other and began to drag circles on her clit.

Ruby’s mouth fell open in ecstasy. You felt the twitch of Sam against your throat when Ruby groaned. In the haze of her pleasure, she rushed her pushing and your nose crashed into Sam’s pubic bone. This time, you did gag. It was too much all at once.

You dug your nails into Sam and Ruby’s thighs, hoping to get their attention to what you were going through. They continued to be enamoured by each other. Sam was pulling on the skin of her neck with his teeth, just enough to leave bruises. Ruby was grinding into Sam’s hand, moans falling from her lips.

Tears rolled down your cheeks. You pulled your head back, straining against their shared hold. Somehow, you slipped out of their grasp. You tumbled back, catching yourself on your hands.

Your chest heaved and you trembled, trying to catch your breath enough. It had scared you, that small moment when you didn’t know if you would be able to come up for air.

“Oh, angel.” Ruby knelt to her knees, brushing your tears away. You didn’t flinch. Ruby loved you, and as long as you were a good girl, she wouldn’t hurt you. “Was it too much?”

You nodded and let her palm cup against your cheek. Sam gathered one of your hands in his, helping you to your feet. You swayed a bit, but ultimately stood your ground by leaning against Sam.

“We’re sorry, baby,” Sam kissed your forehead. He was surprisingly sweet for someone who was still rock hard. You closed your eyes and buried your head in his chest. You felt your hair get brushed back.

“Let us make it up to you,” Ruby kissed your neck. “Let us show you how much we love you.”

You hummed out a response.

They worked together to guide you to your bed. You didn’t know how it would fit all three of you. Sam and Ruby didn’t seem worried about this fact.

Sam gathered the hem of your nightgown up, lifting it over your head to leave you naked. When you regained your sight, Ruby had shed the rest of her clothing. You eyed her like she was the most holy thing you’d ever set eyes on. The flash of mischief in her eyes told you she was anything but.

“Lie back, angel.” Ruby instructed. She placed one hand on your back and the other on your chest, helping you into the position she wanted you in. She left featherlight kisses on you, spanning across your chest, stomach, thighs. She was working you up while Sam undressed himself.

“Fuck, this all from loving us?” Sam asked when he caught sight of your glistening center.

“I love you.” You whined when Ruby tapped a light message against your clit with her finger. Sam and Ruby exchanged similar looks of joy at your programmed response.

This was is it. They knew it then.

You were theirs, all theirs, only theirs.

They took turns going in on you, tongues sometimes mashing together when the other couldn’t hold themself back. You were a writhing mess, but they held your hips steady.

“So good,” Ruby muttered, panting. She nipped at your clit lightly, just enough to make you squeak. She pushed her tongue into you, fucking you with it while Sam slithered up to your face.

“So perfect,” he whispered to you, kissing you. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his lips. He brushed a thumb across one of your nipples.

“I’m-,” you broke mid-sentence when Sam sucked a mark onto your neck, “I’m gonna come.” Your voice was small.

You grasped onto Sam’s shoulders. He slunk back down your body, leaving bruises with his mouth along the way. You locked eyes with Ruby. She smirked against you and sucked a bit harder.

She saw it in your eyes, the sparkle you got just before you came. You didn’t see the spark of dominance in her before it was too late. She’d pulled away from you, leaving you whining as your high slowly simmered down.

“Not yet.” Ruby slid up to your level, kissing your forehead. You knew better than to argue. Snuggling into her neck, you felt Sam’s hands graze against your skin until they cupped over your breasts.

“Wanna feel you come apart on me, angel.” Sam whispered into your ear. He kissed your neck.

You let out a breathy whine, a quiet and soft noise. Your eyes fluttered shut while they showered you with kisses.

You never felt more loved.

In Heaven, you were a soldier. A pawn in the divine plan. You were used to deliver salvation to humanity, responsibilities of keeping everything as it was supposed to be according to your Father’s plan.

Here, you were appreciated for what you brought to the table. You had no expectations, nothing other than complete obedience. You didn’t have to think. Sam and Ruby loved you, and they would take care of you until the end of days.

You needed to give them more. You needed to show them how much you loved them.

“Ruby?” You asked in a timid voice. Your lips brushed against her skin while you spoke. She smirked, locking eyes with Sam. She was waiting for you to do this. She knew what would come next.

“Yes, my angel?” Ruby answered.

“Can I make you and Sam feel good again?”

Ruby ran a tongue across her teeth, trying not to let you know how much your willing nature was already pleasing her.

“Yes.” She was already guiding you up to sit on your knees on the bed. She motioned to the spot where she wanted Sam and he obliged, rolling over to lay on his back.

“Right here, angel, sit right here.” She instructed, her firm grip on your hips dragging you to rest on Sam’s thighs. You brushed against the base of his cock, making you let out a shaky breath. You were already sensitive after the night’s earlier events, but the knowledge that he would soon be inside of you was enough to intimidate you. The sick part was the arousal that washed over you in tandem with the fear.

Ruby bent down until her mouth was just over Sam. She spit onto him, using it as lubrication to prepare him for you. Not that it was all that needed; you were dripping just thinking about how much you loved them both.

“Come here.” Ruby beckoned. She helped you move over Sam, lining him up with your entrance.

“I’ll be gentle,” Sam lied, assuring you when he noticed your hesitation. He could have been sincere in it, you thought, but you knew his intentions went out the window the moment you sunk down onto him. His eyes flicked to pure black. It was a reminder that his humanity was dwindling. The demon blood was converting his soul to darkness.

You sighed, your head falling back, when you finally reached his base. You sat there, trying to organize your thoughts. Sam didn’t like that. He didn’t want you to think.

He gripped onto your hips, lifting them before letting his own hips follow, slamming himself back inside. You gasped, a moan escaping. Ruby rested one hand on your lower back, the other on Sam’s abdomen, like the puppet master she was. She controlled you both, but her hold on you was stronger than the one on Sam.

“Fits so well,” Sam grunted, pounding into you. You let out a strangled moan. You gripped onto Ruby’s arm, needing to stabilize yourself.

“See what you’ve been missing out on?” Ruby flicked the tip of her tongue against your cheek, pushing her chest closer to you. You couldn’t speak. You could barely breathe with the speed Sam was moving at.

That pleased Ruby even more. You were her dumb little angel, listening to everything she said.

She pulled away from you to climb onto Sam’s face. This scene was too much. She needed to come, and she knew Sam was always happy to offer his mouth up for that assistance. She sat comfortably on his face, eyes fluttering shut when he groaned into her.

You watched her with a hazy mind, choking on your breath at the pleasure. When she looked back at you, her eyes were the same inky black as Sam’s had been. It should have sent a shiver down your spine that you were in the presence of such evil.

But Ruby didn’t feel evil. Not when she was pulling you toward her to kiss you so hungrily. This was your Ruby. She loved you, and you loved her.

You whimpered into her mouth when she clawed at your arms, tearing away the bandages. In the haste of trying to prove yourself to Sam and Ruby, your slow-healing cuts had been ripped open. The blood seeped out slowly, not enough to trickle, but enough to drip when it pooled up too much. You hadn’t noticed.

Ruby did. An idea popped into her head, one bred from the desire to be closer to you. She remembered forbidding you from healing yourself after your punishment, and, God, was she grateful for it when her tongue flashed over your arm.

She’d tasted blood before, bathed in it even, but nothing like this. Your blood brought the sweetest sting down her throat. She relished in the fleeting pain. She scraped her teeth against the slices, chasing the high angel blood was bringing to her. You whined as she moaned.

Sam almost protested when Ruby slid back but before he could get a word in, she slammed your forearm down to his mouth. He sucked on instinct and his thrusts stuttered with the tang of your blood.

It didn’t hurt him like it had Ruby. No, it had a different effect on him. It turned the dirty inside him clean, filled him with hope. He felt lighter, almost. Somehow he knew that the mixture of demon and angel blood in his system would make him more powerful than ever.

The thought brought his pace back to life.

His hips were unforgiving on the backs of your thighs, bruising them with every moment of contact.

Ruby reclaimed her prior spot over his face. This time, Sam had her falling apart in minutes. He’d gotten a new spark inside of him with this whole thing. You and Ruby were his girls and he’d be damned if you two went unsatisfied.

A scream caught in your throat when you came. You doubled over, falling to Sam’s chest. It didn’t falter his pumping in and out of you. In fact, it seemed to motivate him more. The clenching of your walls around him had him silently begging for release. He needed it.

Ruby took no time to level her head with Sam’s. She was still recovering from her orgasm, but knowing he was still inside you had her kissing next to his ear.

“Come in her,” she whispered to him, nibbling on his earlobe. Sam groaned in anticipation. He’d been planning on doing it but now Ruby had given him the permission he needed. “Fill her up for me.”

“Fuck,” he seethed when it finally happened. He dug his hips into your ass, grinding up to ensure his release was deep inside. He was able to get in a few sloppy thrusts to guarantee he was completely satisfied before he relaxed into the mattress of your bed.

You were heaving out breaths. You hadn’t opened your eyes since your orgasm, but they both knew you weren’t sleeping. Ruby traced a finger across Sam’s cheek before kissing him.

“Good boy.” She praised, earning her an exhausted smile from him.

“Angel?” Ruby asked softly, skimming her hand over your shoulder. You didn’t move. The only indication you had heard Ruby came from the small “Hmm?” that vibrated from your throat. She smiled wickedly at that. You were completely spent. Still, she wanted one last thing before you fell asleep.

“Tell me again.” She ordered. You needed no explanation, even with your fuzzy mind keeping you from thinking.

“I love you,” you mumbled, shifting your hips. Sam scratched lightly against your back, making your skin tingle.

“And who will love you when no one else will?” Ruby asked. She pulled a blanket over you three, protecting against the cold night air. Not that anyone would get cold tonight, not with your bodies still tangled together.

“You and Sam.” You breathed out one last answer before drifting off. The soothing circles on your spine calmed the part of your brain keeping you from sleep. Ruby smirked proudly, kissing both yours and Sam’s foreheads while you both slept.

“Good girl.” She purred, settling in to watch over you both all night long.

The morning would come, but your fear of them would not. The wounds on your arm would heal into a scar, spelling out their possession of you every time you looked at it. As long as you were a good girl, Ruby wouldn’t hurt you again, a mantra that reminded you to never try to leave them again.

everything taglist : @littlesoulshine @sacr1ficialang3l @blossomingorchids @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @mostlymarvelgirl @missus-ackles

sam winchester taglist : @hobiespick @xoswiftieprincess

additional loveys that i know will want to read this : @saltcxrcle @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth @ambiguous-avery

[lululocomo]

The past: Macaque's Reaction

(this is about my Forgotten Wukong au! feel free to look at the masterpost linked at the end if you wanna know more!)

_______________

Liu Er Mihou was the first to notice something happened. 

It’s been some years since his fight against Wukong, in which the Great Sage explained the best he could why he had to go through this pilgrimage and protect this monk. Mihou decided to give him one last chance and Wukong promised he will get home as soon as this Journey ended. Now Macaque is back on Flower Fruit Mountain hoping the King will keep his promise.

Macaque listens now and then in direction to the west, to know if the travel with the monk and the other pilgrims was almost done. The last time he listen what Wukong was up to, he was on his way to get his circlet removed by Guanyin after sealing the brotherhood in a scroll.

Finally! Wukong did kept his promise of getting back home after all of this was done! And about the brotherhood, well, Macaque wasn’t that sad about them. Sure they were friends, but not anymore, not after the fight against heaven and how they completely abandoned Wukong after it. Macaque still did try to find him and talked to him, even if the result was a smashed peach on the ground.

Mihou was still very conflicted about how to feel toward Wukong, they needed to have serious talk as soon as the King will be back on the mountain. But something wasn’t right, something was missing. Macaque couldn’t shake off this feeling of something missing, something big. Then he notice.

Wukong’s magic. He couldn’t feel it anymore.

Minutes ago he could feel it getting closer, feeling Wukong getting closer to Flower Fruit Mountain. But now, nothing. It vanished into thin air. And then he noticed the lack of sounds.

He could no longer hear Wukong's breath, or his heartbeat. Normally Macaque is able to hear it even if he is far away thanks to his six ears.

But now, there was only a deafening silence. He couldn’t understand, what just happened? 

Not wanting to alarm the other demon monkeys on FFM, he continues to listen, to find any hints, anything to ease his mind and to tell him that all of this is a cruel joke. 

His mind went blank. There was no way Wukong just disappeared like that. Yes, he still hasn't forgiven him for going with the pilgrims and how he abandoned him, but he never expected all of this.

_________

No more than an hour later, Nezha was at the foot of Flower Fruit Mountain,asking to see Macaque or any monkey in charge of Wukong's kingdom.

Macaque was pulled back from his spiraling of thought when he noticed Nezha's presence.

Using his shadow to teleport to him, he told him he better have a good reason why he's there. 

Nezha told him about all the things the Jade Emperor said; how Wukong died from a powerful curse he got during his journey, that apparently one of the many demons he fought had a cursed weapon capable of slowly killing an immortal being . And now his staff became cursed and is protected by a powerful barrier.

“ …where is he?” Macaque ask. “I- I don’t know. They didn’t answer when I asked, only saying he got disposed of.” “What do you mean disposed of?! You’re telling me it’s only been an hour since he supposedly died and he’s already disposed of??!” Nezha sighed: “Look I know this sounds very bad, and I agree something is awry. That’s why I came here as soon as I could to tell you this. Apparently his body was emanating a cursed energy after dying so that’s why they acted quickly” “... this doesn’t make any sense.." macaque paused "and what do you mean by something is awry? I was sure you would agree to whatever Heaven decided to do”. “I am not completely blind to what they do. Not long before they announced this, I saw that a part of the celestial army left the palace in secret and they got back when the news was spread. Perhaps it is connected, perhaps it is not. But my intuition tells me something is just wrong.”

“...”

“I know we are not on good terms but I thought it would be correct to tell you all this. I need to go now , my condolence for your loss.”

Nezha left the mountain as quickly as he got there to go back to the celestial palace.

Macaque stayed in the same spot,paralysed, still processing all the informations. ________

The news spread like wildfire. And everyone was too scared to go near the mountain with the "cursed magic staff".

Time passed, and Mihou was still looking for Wukong whenever he could, while protecting and taking care of the kingdom left behind after the sudden departure of the King.

Au Masterpost

[eyebulb]

It's funny sometimes to see a lot of the arguments against Stolitz being false perspectives that the characters themselves have.

Like.. For example.. That Stolas in some way manipulated Blitz into sex with the book he needed for his job.

That's what STOLAS believes. Not at first, but after Ozzie's he starts to question what kind of fucked up deal he got himself into and how cruel he must be towards Blitz.

It's not how Blitz sees it tho! He didn't mind the deal itself. The deal was a safety net for his complicated feelings. Yes he did need the book, but seeing the owl he likes having sex with and kinda might actually like even more than that was a bonus. But let's keep it strictly business so we don't involve complicated feelings here. Cus real feelings can hurt, but if it's business.. Well it's just business. He liked that business tho, so he freaks out when it's taken away.

Another one I see often is that Stolas was the one to make it all about sex at the point of their confrontation in The full moon.

And this is what Blitz saw. Sort of.. It's what Blitz told himself was the case.

The start of it is a messy business, and I stand firm in my belief that both are to blame for the deal being in place at all. Especially the sex part of it.

Stolas felt attraction towards Blitz from the start. He made a weird sex joke that he then abandoned in order to just talk to his oldest friend. Blitz however, don't really see them as friends per se and is there to steal the book, and hey "this guy is attracted to me, I can totally use that" he thinks and starts flirting.

Stolas experiences a gay panic and starts backing off but Blitz keeps going until eventually Stolas gives in and goes with it. Then follows a night of passionate fornication that changes Stolas' whole view on life and seems to also change something for Blitz, at least in regards to how he sees Stolas. They both liked the sex, but they have a slightly different view of the relationship that follows.

Blitz can't for several reasons fathom that Stolas could see Blitz in any other way than a sexual partner.. Whether that's cus of a fetish or whatever doesn't matter much. It's just not possible in his head that Stolas sees him in any other way.

In the beginning, Stolas feeds this unintentionally. By playfully calling him "little imp" and similar demeaning things (I don't count "impish little plaything" cus that was to feed into the roll of the scary demon royal in front of the humans. Like in mastermind).

Stolas seems to see their deal as a beginning of something more. He thinks they're on the same page and that there's something genuine there. It isn't until Ozzie's that he starts to realize what Blitz's interpretation is.

After that tho, Stolas changes his tactics. He looks to break the deal by getting the crystal and gives Blitz the choice of coming over instead of telling him to. In Oops, we also get a rant from Blitz about other ways Stolas has tried to show interest in him outside of sex. So come full moon, Stolas genuinely thinks that Blitz has gotten the hint but just can't see their relationship that way.

Blitz tho, can't get the hint cus he doesn't allow himself to. He refuses to believe in anything genuine and boils it down to a royal having their fun and playing with his feelings. Stolas is also not the most consistent person ever when he confronts things. If we read the texts in western energy we see a man scared shitless of confrontation that he keeps back paddling.. Which is the people pleaser's way and which makes it hard to interpret their genuine feelings. But he HAS tried to steer their relationship away from sex and into a more genuine connection.

So people claiming he's being hypocritical there misses the point in that he tried laying the groundwork for his confession in all of season 2. Seeing stars is the one time we see him flirt for real and I mean.. The guy is gay as hell.. Excuse him in his moment of weakness.

Blitz is blindsighted cus he convinced himself that every attempt Stolas made was fake. He needs to be backed into a corner with no excuses left in order to fully understand that Stolas is genuine. Which is why he comes back to fight in apology tour. He's still trying to get Stolas to "drop the mask" but.. Stolas doesn't have his mask on so obviously that doesn't happen.

So in conclusion.

Stolas didn't force Blitz into anything even tho Stolas himself believes it. Cus Blitz doesn't.

And Stolas didn't make it only about sex even tho Blitz believs it. Cus Stolas spent all of s2 trying to convince Blitz that there was more to his feelings than that and cut the sex part out of it completely.

[game-boy-pocket]

Okay, I took a nap.

Here is something really heartening. Cranky Kong is confirmed. Holding a shovel with him. People with the Japanese Nintendo Today app saw him in slightly altered trailer.

Now I can't imagine he's going to be the only familiar character besides DK in this game. There's no way Cranky is here and not, at minimum, Diddy. But this is going to be a huge open world, you have to populate it with NPCs, so I fully expect to see even more.

And I don't think it will all be Kongs.

There is a village of Ostriches in the game. And this is not Expresso, but stylistically, it mostly matches with Expresso's mosty recent appearance as a trophy in Super Smash Bros for Wii U, albeig with a few little tweaks.

My guess is Expresso is somewhere in that village and we'll be reuniting with him, assuming this ins't a new look for Expresso that we're looking at in the screenshot. I feel like one of Nintendo's goals will be to inject a little more peresonality into some of the old characters who weren't Kongs, because let's be real, none of the Animal Buddies really had much personality to begin with.

Gnawty the beaver appears as some kind of treasure thing? This could be a meaningless easter egg, but you never know, the point is this is another sign that not all of Rare's contributions will be forgotten.

And here's the biggest copium of all.

For a game with all new antagonists who appear to be apes.... they're using an awful lot of Crocodile imagery... and specifically crocodile imagery where one eye is bigger than the other.... and a lot of emphasis on gold too. Like a certain someone's armor plated belly...

Okay okay, I might be getting my hopes up a little too much here. It could be japes. Very cruel japes. I mean did you see the amount of pig imagery in The Wind Waker, ESPECIALLY in Ganon's Tower, and they just pulled the rug out from under me with that "Tease" of Ganondorf transforming into a giant Demon only to give me a googly eyed pig marionette on string instead of my bad ass trident weilding pig wizard. Nintendo has done me dirty before.

But I do think it's possible that these new villains may not be the ones pulling the strings. Or, maybe the Kremlings aren't actually in the game, but this is going to tell us where they came from. A bit of a lore drop while these new villains are trying to move in on the Kremling relics left behind by K. Rool's ancestors.

Wishful thinking. But it does seem that Nintendo is being coy with whatever familiar elements are in the game.

So I don't want to say I'm in full on copium mode just yet, I do think all these signs are heartening.

Even if this is all bullshit and it's just Donkey Kong and Cranky in a completely unfamiliar land with unfamiliar characters, I'm sure it will be an astounding game, and right now, it's the only Nintendo Switch 2 game i'm dying to get my hands on.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

There's something in the differing emphasis that Brad and Hunter and Charles place on the phrase "good guy" that really affected me on my first watch and hit even harder on my second. I'm going to try and put it into words.

When Brad and Hunter say it, they say "we're good guys", as in, good at everything a guy "should" be good at - good at sports, popular with the ladies, on their way to a good university. But they turn out to be total shitheads. They don't care about being "good", they just care about their reputation, how they're perceived. It's status and power - they're good guys and they feel entitled to do whatever they want.

But when Charles, feeling betrayed by this reveal of their character, says he wanted them to be good guys, the emphasis is completely different. Charles wants to be a "good guy". He doesn't want to be a "bad guy".

The emphasis is on good, because that's really the crux of Charles' greatest fears, isn't it?

When Charles wants to be a good guy, he doesn't mean it the way Brad and Hunter do; that veneer of goodness that comes with popularity. He means that nothing he did was ever good enough for his dad. Doing the good thing and helping that kid his "friends" were beating up literally got him killed. Trying to stop Devlin only got him trapped in the loop, stuck until his friends freed him, only able to watch helplessly as a mother and her innocent children get slashed to death before his eyes.

And it's this helplessness that is the thing that truly sets him off at the end of episode 4.

It always struck me just how much of his breakdown there, for as much as he finally gives a voice to his own hurt at the injustice of his situation, was still about other people. Because he was secure-ish, at one point, when he was Edwin's partner and protector. He thought he did a good job at it anyways, but guess not, because something obviously happened with Edwin and he's not talking to him about it. And he likes to think he did good with solving cases, but Crystal is still hurting and haunted by a demon and nearly threw herself off a cliff earlier that day because she wants her parents so badly, and he's no closer to helping her solve that. And all of it, every single part of it, is a reflection of his own unresolved trauma; that he never "made it better" and he can't, so now he tries to be good enough for other people, but that isn't working anymore either, and now someone is threatening to take Edwin away, and even this final shocking act of anger and violence is still in service of protecting; of saving someone from the suffering he was never able to escape except by fucking dying.

His anger, really, stems from the injustice of it all, and the abuse of power by guys who can get away with it because they're guys, when they should've, could've, been good to others instead. It's a large part of why he projected so strongly onto Brad and Hunter - they did everything right, they were good guys who got screwed over, because even if everyone seems to love you, there's always that one person you can never please, right? Who will hurt you, no matter how good you are. When it's revealed that Brad and Hunter are far more like his bullies, like Devlin, like his dad, than he'd thought - controlling, intolerant, cruel to those who "step out of line" - Charles feels betrayed and horrified because he related to them... so what does that say about him?

But here's one major difference that Charles does not seem to recognize well. Charles has never had the power in these situations. He was the victim, and his being the victim is through no fault of his own, but the fault of those who decided to be cruel. It is certainly not contingent on how good he is. Being good in the eyes of people who want to hurt you will not stop them from hurting you.

When he lashes out at the Night Nurse, it's out of helplessness and rage. Once again, he's pitted against someone who holds more power than he does and is threatening harm, and he's just been bitterly, brutally reminded that a smile and a helping hand and a firm word never, ever worked to make it stop. There's only one other way he can think of to shift the balance of power, and he's finally livid enough to actually do it. This violence is a desperate attempt to finally overcome yet another force much greater than him, a transdimensional entity that has unjustly arrived to take his best friend to Hell. And Charles wins, he did it, he stopped her, at least for the moment. But at what cost, when he looks at his friends and can't tell whether they look more scared for him or of him? And can he blame them, when he's clearly scared of his own anger and how overwhelming it is now that it's been let out?

Because he tries so hard to be good and it's never good enough to stop the suffering. Because that anger rose to the surface so easily and maybe that means he's not good at all.

But of course, Charles once again misses something important here - there is a distinction in why that anger exists. His dad, Devlin, and Brad and Hunter get angry because their power over others makes them feel they have a right to punish when things don't go their way. Charles gets angry because he feels more helpless than he'd care to admit, and seeing cruelty inflicted onto others by those with power makes him want to cut them down to size.

And herein lies the second major difference. Charles... is a kind person, at heart. He's genuine. He really does likes helping out, he likes making people happy, he doesn't turn people away who need help, he's friendly and protective. The scene where Edwin pulls him out of his fear that he's somehow bad even though he really doesn't want to be, is outright one of my favourite scenes for what it brings to both of their characters. Edwin knows exactly what to say. While it's always good to check your behaviour, to apologize and take accountability - because no one can be good all the time, and even the most well-intentioned of us will mess up sometimes - Edwin is right.

"Bad guys do not worry about being bad guys."

[itsabouttimex2]

Ok, ok, HEAR ME OUT-

How about lmk Monkeifam and Bullfam with a Y/N who isn't afraid to throw hands —

Like i mean in a response to trauma or manipulation, becouse i fell it isn't explore enough in this situation -

Sure, your loved that you belived was a friend trapped /kidnapped/gaslight you is heartbreaking and of course you are gonna be sad and more incline to behave butttt-

There is always the other way of absolute rage that comes in once you realized you have been trapped/kidnapped /gaslight ecc- like i don't care anymore, i wanna throw hands, those people are death to me.(even thought this isn't the smarter choice considering the strenght of some of the people here) like them breaking Y/N down so they can comfort them to manipulate them, but then unsurprisingly the get the biggest smack/punch of their life . Just- wow the audacity.

Throwing Hands

Bullfam & Monkiefam

“…is this some sort of pathetic attempt at ‘rebellion’, Y/N? I am not impressed.”

Your hands straight bounce. Like punching a bag of wet cement, the Demon Bull King’s skin just shifts around under your fists, never breaking or bruising. You only shatter yourself against it, leaving you worn and looking foolish.

He might not even punish you, given that it’s likely that you break a wrist on impact.

“Now, look what you’ve done to yourself, foolish child. Did you truly think your mortal flesh could stand a demon king’s might? Well, now you know better.”

You lost your temper and struck him. Immediately, you learn better than to do that ever again, and he considers it lesson enough.

Surprisingly merciful, all things considered. (Partially because he finds it somewhat funny.)

I once said in my yandere alphabet that: “Red Son doesn’t want to waste his time doing something like caning or whipping you”. And though I think that viewpoint is usually true…

This changes that. It’s maybe the only situation where he would actively engage in any form of normalized torture “corporal punishment”.

Being physically attacked switches Red from ‘mildly reasonable, if a bit hair-trigger’ to ‘vicious and cruel’. Through brute force alone does he wrestle you into submission, binding your arms behind your back with a pair of metal cuffs.

He tosses you onto the nearest bed and couch before burning the lower half of your clothing off. He then takes up a thin metal rod to utilize in “disciplining” you, sharply lashing it down against your now unprotected skin. He’ll leave puffy, bleeding welts from the top of your rear to the bottom of your thighs, ensuring that you won’t even be able to think about walking for at least a week.

Problem is that not only does it not solve the problem of you being scared and angry, it also just… makes him feel bad afterwards. It breaks him, seeing you weep brokenly over his bed. Blood sluggishly trickles from the skin he’s lashed open, and you scream your lungs out into the sheets as you try to adjust to the pain.

And then he “has to” (wants to, in truth) settle in for some awkward form of aftercare, offering lotion and bandages. When you don’t accept, he forces you to drink a cup of honeyed tea loaded with sedatives because you won’t stop shrieking.

Antiseptic while you’re asleep, a few stitches here and there, then the lotion and bandages he tried earlier. And then a few cautious back rubs, trying to calm your fitful slumber.

“Gods, Y/N… what have I done to you? I… I was just… I was… no, I… I’m sorry.”

An outright dodge. Princess Iron Fan has no time for your nonsense. For trying, she’ll lock you into whatever room has been set aside for you, barring the door with powerful magic.

One shallowly-filled bowl of food every two days, adding just a little bit more to it each day. One ceramic cup of room temperature water every four hours. A change of clothes every three days. Instead of brute force, Iron Fan teaches you through deprivation.

After a month of this, she might see fit you allow you back out of your room, letting you mingle with the family you have been forced to adopt.

After writing her a letter of apology, of course. Two pages. Pray you have the mind to keep your pencil steady.

So very many tears to deal with, probably on both ends. MK knows that he’s doing isn’t all that great, sure… but it’s because he loves you!

Can’t you love him back, please? Ok, he’s been manipulating you! Maybe he’s been driving some friends away! Maybe he’s sent a few clones to tail you around the city! But, please, please- you can’t stop loving him! He just can’t risk having you hurt!

“Please, Y/N! You don’t understand! I’m just trying to keep you safe! You can hit me again, hit me as many times as you want! Just- please, Y/N… I need you. Please…”

His last resort is stuffing you in Shuilian Cave, given that you can’t escape with his or Sun Wukong’s help. Maybe a few ropes to keep you in place. He’ll cry with each knot tied, begging you not to hate him.

Sun Wukong tanks your punch and gives your head a little pat, frowning at the display. “Sorry, bud. Trust me, I know I’m not exactly the good guy here. Go ahead and let it out. I… kinda deserve it, huh?”

The Great Sage knows you have every reason to be upset. Really, you do. All there’s only so much waylaying of emotions to be done, unfortunately. You were going to crack eventually.

He stands firmly in place, one hand rubbing your back while you break your fists against his body, watching you scream and cry. The man is just… unsurprised? He’s starting to realize that he messes up a lot of things.. So just letting you whale on him seems fair, gently trying to shush your angry tears while your skin grinds to bloody pulp against his shredded abdomen.

“How about I make us some tea,” he offers afterwards, surveying your destroyed hands. “And I’ll patch you up. Then… I think you’ve earned yourself an early bedtime for the rest of the week, bud.”

“Oh, kiddo. Do you know what “screwing up” is? After this, they’re gonna put your picture in the dictionary as an example.”

Macaque does not tolerate having hands laid on him. Not by friends, not by enemies. And certainly not by his little student, who is supposed to be wide-eyed and placid, in awe of his every move and strike.

You are supposed to be sweet and respectful. You are supposed to be kind and loving.

And he’s sure that with a little bit of “training”, he’ll get you back to that disposition.

He’ll snap his fingers with an angry snarl, shadows springing all around you like cold wires. You are gagged with a cold ebon muzzle, both your hands locked inside a cuff of swirling black and purple. You want to act like an animal? Macaque will chain you to the wall by your new muzzle and treat you like an animal.

Maybe a few days spent so on a chain so short you can’t lay down will teach you better than to raise a hand against “the only person who even loves you, Y/N!” ever again.

[valaryswrites]

PART 1 & 2 TOGETHER

🪐 where aziraphale locks you and crowley in the bookshop forcing you to make peace within eachother, but instead you both come up with a better idea to pass time.

warnings: lots of dirty talking, smut and english is not my first language (sorry it took so long, my computer broke and the part 2 got lost)

After ordering “make peace within each other!” with a mischievous smile on his face, Aziraphale left the bookshop, but not before locking in his two dearest friends; Crowley and you.

Unfortunately, the demon wasn’t your favorite. Not even a little. You perceived him as a vile, naughty and cruel being, even though Az tried to convince you otherwise thousands of times. About Crowley… well, his feeling were a little bit messy.

So Aziraphale got tired.

The angel couldn’t stand seeing the people he loved the most hating each other like that. It was time for him to do something about it, so he did.

“I can’t fucking believe he locked us in!” you said loudly, kicking a wooden chair but then sitting on it.

Crowley watched you with unblinking eyes for a moment, and then his expression changed to a sly smile. “Look at us.” he said, in a lazy but seductive tone. “A human and a demon being forced to play nice together.”

“You know what, Mr. Crowley?” you asked, playing cool. “We should play a game: we stay silent for the night and wait until tomorrow.” you proposed, with a big and false smile.

Crowley raised an eyebrow at you comment and leaning in closer, he asked:

“Are you afraid you won’t be able to control yourself if you open your mouth?”

He had the same tone again.

“Oh, come on, Crowley!” you insisted, standing up and walking towards a bookshelf, trying to find something to read that could keep you away from the demon.

“Ah, so I hit a nerve.” he says and after a few seconds he broke a silence that was starting to grow. “May I ask what are you going to read?” Crowley inquired, watching as you continued looking for something interesting.

“Look, you don’t have to force it.” you said with honesty, not even looking at him, focused reading the titles of the books in front of you. “We could just co-exist for a few hours and I guess we will be alr… Aziraphale has the fucking Kamasutra in his bookshop!?” you almost screamed, too shocked.

Crowley’s eyes seems to light up and he couldn’t help but laugh. “A classic!” he says. “I mean, it’s not surprising that Aziraphale keeps a copy of the Kamasutra here. It’s one of the oldest tomes of knowledge in existence, full of wisdom and insight into the nature of human desire. It makes complete sense for a book this sacred to be housed in a bookshop run by someone like him.” for the first time, he was saying something clever, you thought.

“I guess you’re right.” you said, leaving the book right were you found it. “It just feels… weird to picture.”

“I’ve heard the techniques described within those pages are simply divine.” Crowley said and you could feel his gaze on your body. “Maybe,” he said with a mischievous tone in his voice, “we could put them to the test?”

“Demons can have sex with humans?” you asked, ignoring his proposal. You sat in one little couch and, of course, Crowley sat in front of you.

“It’s not unusual for demons to have some intimacy with humans.” he simply answers, adjusting his position. “To seek out whatever pleasures this world has to offer.”

“Oh…” you managed to say, a little bit disturbed (but curious). “That’s why you have such a face of a virgin.” you tried to insult him, but Crowley just let out a chuckle.

“You have no idea.” he said in a playful tone and then leaned closer, with his eyes fixed on yours. “But you could find out.” he says in a whisper, his lips curving into a grin. “Just imagine all the things I could show you…”

“Are you flirting with me, Crowley?” you asked him, grabbing and old bottle of whiskey from Az’s desk and taking a quick sip. Maybe it would help. “Flirting with the girl you despise the most?”

Crowley raised an eyebrow as you take a sip of whiskey, smiling slightly. “Perhaps I’m flirting with you to see what kind of reaction I can get out of you.” his tone was still alluring. “But I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy this little exchange we’re having.” he added.

“Oh…” you took another sip, this time gaining more courage to speak. “So you are teasing me for fun? Or because you actually want to make real all of these fantasies of yours?”

The demon shrugged, seeming to be enjoying your reaction. “Maybe a little bit of both?” he said, grinning. He leaned in closer again, whispering in a soft tone. “Just imagine how much fun we could have together… just the two of us. No rules, no constraints… just pure pleasure.”

“But why?” you asked.

“I mean, if you want constraints I guess I can use a rope on you…” he started to say, completely into it.

“Not the constraints, stupid. Why would you like us to fuck?” you asked more clearly this time, feeling the warmth of the whiskey travelling down your throat.

“Because we are bored, and we have a long night ahead.” he simply answered. “And also because I know you would enjoy it.” He chuckled.

“So you would do it just for me to enjoy it?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh no, I would totally enjoy it too.” he affirmed, showing a smile with teeth.

“Well…” you started to consider it, but the idea seemed too risky. You stood up and started to walk around the place, with Crowley’s piercing eyes following you. “As much as I would like to kick your face and send you back to hell… I can’t deny I find the idea pretty… desirable.” you finally said, and even though you weren’t looking at him, you just knew the kind of smile Crowley had in his face.

“Tell me your rules.” Crowley proposed, after whispering your name with a mischievous tone. “And I’ll be sure I break them all.”

You turned around to face him.

“I have rules, yes.” you confirmed. “But they are for you to follow, understood?”

“Mhm…” the demon vaguely answered, standing up, walking and then leaning against a wall in a casual manner, folding his arms. “I’m listening.”

“No marks.” you insisted. “You can’t leave marks on me because that implies Az could find out. And he locked us here for us to become friends, not fuck.”

“I’m pretty sure the angel would be delighted with the idea of us fucking, but… no marks.”

“Secondly, after we are done, we are done.” you ordered. “We go back to where we were.”

“Very well…” he said in a seductive tone, walking slowly towards you. “And what if I don’t want us to go back to how we were after we’re done?” he softly asked, leaning closer to you. Your bodies were almost touching. “What if I want more?” there was a predator tone in his voice. And you liked it.

“Tell me your rules.” you now said, ignoring all of what he mentioned before.

“Oh, where would the fun be in that?” he said. “How about a little game?” he suggested. “We’ll play a nice game of truths and dares.” he started to walk around the room, but now you were the one following him with your eyes.

You sighed, feeling a little bit nervous but undeniably curious.

“Go ahead.” you accepted. “Truth.”

“Perfect.” he smiled. “Let’s start with an easy one…” his playful voice slowly shifting into something a little more intense and serious. “Since you know us, how many times have you thought about me, even just for a moment?”

You rolled your eyes, but willing to answer with the truth.

“Some times. When I’m visiting Aziraphale and you make your appearance… always so dramatic… I want to strangle you.” you chuckled. “And other times… I also want to strangle you, but in a… playful way.”

Crowley let out a slight purr and seemed to appreciate the honesty.

“Good job, it’s admirable to be true to your feelings.” he says, with hints of irony in his voice.

“Truth or dare?” it was now your turn, and you had plenty of ideas running around your mind.

“I’m a demon, I love a good old dare.” Crowley answered with a smug smile. “I have no fear of anything you could come up with.”

“Kneel.” you ordered. “In front of me.”

The demon seemed to like being ordered around. “As you wish.” he said.

He slowly got down on his knees in front of you, taking off his glasses at the same time. Now his eyes were looking up at you, and you enjoyed the view so much.

“Is this your idea of fun?” he asked, flirty. “Or is it a way to assert your dominance over me?” he whispered, his voice still alluring.

“Maybe.” you answered. “Would you like me to dominate you, Crowley?”

He seemed to consider your words, his face turning into a slight smile.

“Perhaps I would like that.” he teased, quickly getting up from his knees, still staring at you with snake eyeshadow “But I’m not sure I believe you can really dominate me. Or should I say… I’m fairly certain you can’t.” he then leaned against the wall with a cocky smirk on his face. “But oh, love, I would like you to prove me wrong"

You sighed again, taking a step back from him. The idea was madness, but you couldn’t help but being totally into it.

“Okay, then.” you finally said, firmly. “Who’s going to make the first move?” It was clearly not going to be you; it was his idea first.

Crowley moved closer to you again.

“Let’s see…” he began. “Perhaps I would prefer to let you make the first move?” he confessed, leaning against the nearest wall and folding his arms in a casual manner. “But don’t worry; I’m sure I’ll be able to tempt you into breaking your own rules.” he added with a smirk. “And it’s indeed one of the pleasures of the flesh, to hear the sighs and screams of a woman being dominated.”

You raised an eyebrow and asked him;

“Oh, so now you want to dominate me?”

“I don’t know…” he said, with a small grin on his face. “What would you do if I wanted to? How would you react if I told you to bend over and please me?” There was a predatory look on his face. “In the end, it doesn’t really matter who makes the first move. Because we both now the end result will be me on top, and you screaming my name.”

You rolled your eyes.

“We’ll see.” you said, starting to walk slowly and seductively around the bookshop, knowing very well that Crowley would totally follow you.

The demon’s expression shifted into something more playful, and he followed you around the place with his hungry eyes watching every movement of yours. He waited patiently for something to happen, but actually he is not patient at all.

“So, what brings you to the bookshop today?” he asked, with a joker tone. “Looking for something in particular?”

And you laughed a little; you wanted to go on with that inside joke.

“Yes, sir.” you nodded. “I’m looking for some recommendation.”

“Do you have an specific preference?” he asked seductively, doing his best to sound like an actual librarian.

“I have some preferences, yes.” you affirmed, with a little smirk on your mouth, turning around to face him. “I like greedy demons.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow at your response while a smile was starting to make its presence in his face.

“Greedy demons, eh? Well, I happen to know a few who might fill that bill. They would be more than willing to satisfy your needs.” he answered.

“I don’t need a few, I just need one.” you said almost in a whisper.

He leaned forward, his voice lowering into a whisper too.

“One is all it takes, isn’t it? I can give you exactly what you need.” there was a teasing tone there. “What about appearance? Personality? Abilities, maybe?”

“Mhm…” you started. “I like them sarcastic and even hateful.” you leaned closer and your bodies where so close to each other that they were almost touching. “And I like them when they take the lead.”

Crowley closed the distance between you two in a second; he kissed you with hunger and desperation. The little teasing game was fun, yes. But this was better. His arms were wrapped around your waist and he let out a groan that made you shiver.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he whispered right in your mouth. “This is what you wanted the whole time.”

“Yes, I’ve been wanting to kiss your stupid mouth to make you shut up all this time.” you confessed, with your hands together in the back of his neck. “But you were busy hating me.”

Crowley chuckled lightly, with his snake eyes glowing with desire.

“You wanted to shut me up?” he asked, moving his hands to your hips and bringing you even closer to him. “You succeeded, so I wonder what else you might be capable of with this mouth of yours…”

Your eyes were also full of lust and desire, and you grabbed him by the arm and walked with him behind you.

“Your choice: the couch or the desk.”

“Oh, a woman who know what she wants.” he winked at you. “The couch or the desk? Why not both?” he asked, but he allowed you to lead him over to the desk, with his body moving even closer to yours. There is a chair by the desk, and Crowley sat there while you, instead of sitting in his lap, jumped a little to end up on top of the desk, as if you were on a stage and he was the only spectator. You smiled down at him and started to remove your shirt.

Crowley’s eyes seemed to become almost transfixed as you did, his expression was turning into something more primal and erotic. His breath quickened slightly while his eyes were studying every bit of you.

“My, my…” he whispered. “So you are performing for me?” the demon asked, and he reached out a hand to touch you and then pulled it back quickly, as if wanting to resist the temptation.

“You’ll really try to resist it, Crowley?” the way you said his name that time sent shivers down his spine. You took off your shoes, letting him now that you still had some clothing on.

Crowley let out a small moan at your words and movements, and his body was failing; becoming even more tense with his eyes never leaving you. He shook his head.

“I believe I am capable to resist it, yes.” he answered. “But are you really going to go through with this?”

You took that as a challenge.

“Try not to touch, then.” you ordered, moving your hands towards the zip of your trousers.

“And what happens if I fail?” he asked, his voice still alluring. “What kind of punishment do you have in mind?”

He seemed unable to keep his eyes off of you, your body was overpowering his better judgement.

“You seem tense, are you okay?” you played innocent, but that grin in your face was not a secret. Your trousers were almost in the floor, and your sight in your underwear was tempting a demon. A taste of his own medicine, maybe?

You could almost see the tension emanating from him, his eyes now locked in your legs.

“Am I okay?” he repeated. “Let’s just say I’m not sure what to do with myself right now.”

“Well…” you started, crossing your legs. “I told you not to touch me, but I never said anything about you doing it to yourself…”

Your words seemed to have a profound effect on him, and he shifted slightly in his seat again. As much as he tried to resist it, his body was betraying him.

“So, you’re saying I’m able to touch myself, but not you?” he wanted to make sure his ears weren’t failing.

You nodded, and his tongue darted out of his mouth, almost as if wanting to taste you. One of his hands travelled down his lower body, giving himself a little stroke over his trousers. You smiled, biting your lip. The sight was perfect; a demon, the demon, was pleasing himself while looking at you, as if you were a treasure.

“You are truly a master of manipulation…” he managed to say, while his hand was still giving himself some relief. He was starting to relax.

“I can’t help but feel like a one an only…” you teased, spreading your legs a little, still over the desk. “Seeing a hateful demon touching himself because of me…”

The way you talked about him as if he was a puppet seemed to turn him on even more, since his hand was now under his pants.

“Oh, fuck…” Crowley said to himself, closing his eyes hardly. “I want you to touch me instead…”

“You do?” you asked innocently, getting off the desk.

“Perhaps just the touch of the tips of your fingers, teasing me like you do…” he whispered, his hand moving slowly this time.

“You’ll have to ask nicely, then.” you ordered, proud.

“Please.” the demon asked, his eyes still closed and his hand moving up and down faster. “Can you touch me instead?”

“I’m pretty sure you can do better than that, Crowley.” you kept teasing him, playing with the sides of your underwear. “Weren’t you an angel long ago? Beg like an angel.”

He loved that little game of yours. For some reason, the way you were treating him had an effect on him. A good one. A desperate one.

“Come on!” he almost screamed when you hit that soft spot. “Please…” the way he pronounced this word made you walk towards him.

You looked down at him, using a hand you reach his chin and force him to look up at you. As he did, you used the tips of your fingers to trace his lips and he started to lose it. You wanted to go on with the teasing, so you turned around to leave him right there, hungry an unable to stop stroking himself.

You weren’t actually expecting it, but you were surprise when you felt his arms and hands grabbing you hardly, making you end up on the top of the desk again, but this time with him between your legs. He leaned in and whispered in your ear;

“Did you really think you could use me as your toy, sweetheart?” his eyes were glowing with lust and anger.

You felt a rush of nervousness noticing how he ended up in charge now.

“You looked like a wonderful, pathetic toy in that chair…” you told him, trying to kiss him. He refused.

“Pathetic, huh?” he repeated, while one of his hands were heading towards your inner thighs, where he started to trace circles near your entrance. “Now that you are the toy, I’m going to use you however I please.” without any warning, he slid a single finger inside you.

You closed your eyes, letting your body feel all those mixed emotions. His thumb was caressing your clit slowly and softly, while his mouth was playing with your neck. Your hands travelled to his back, where your nails where almost scratching it.

“Someone is eager, aren’t they?” he smiles at you, with his eyes glittering with amusement and desire. “Do you want me to use you, toy?”

Crowley was paying you with the same coin, sliding a second finger in. You groaned in pleasure and surprise.

“You really are in a vulnerable position now…” he pronounced your name after, making you shiver. “I could do anything I want to you… I could touch you, I could taste you…”

The moment the word “taste” was mentioned, you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan. And of course, he noticed.

“Do you want me to taste you, then?” he whispered, his voice shifting deep with eroticism. “Shall I taste your sweet, sweet flesh?”

You nodded.

“You want me to eat you out right here, on this desk?” Crowley asked again, and you were losing it with that much teasing. “What’s going to happen when you come to visit the bookshop and see this desk? Would you like to have those flashbacks?” he was talking right next to your ear, while his fingers were pleasing you with eager. “Will you picture me, fully clothed and eating you out as if you were a prey?”

You nodded again, since the words weren’t coming out of your mouth. Now you were the betrayed one; your whole body was playing against you. You could feel the climax building up in your lower abdomen when the pace of Crowley’s fingers increased.

But sadly for you; he stopped.

“You like being played, don’t you?” he spat, forcing you to lie down on the desk, leaning on you and kissing your body, going lower with every kiss, and getting your underwear out of the way. “Being on the edge, being teased and toyed with…” he spoke, before biting slightly the inside of your thighs.

You could feel his tongue pressing against your center, while his hands where holding you in place. You were biting your fist to avoid the moaning.

“Oh, no, no, no.” he denied, looking up at you. He licked his lips and you found it incredibly hard to resist. “Don’t cover your mouth.”

His tongue slid against you again, slowly and passionately. Crowley was like an animal, he was groaning, making you feel the vibrations all over your body. He went on like that for a few good minutes, biting, kissing and licking with desperation.

He crawled to you until his body was covering yours, and he kissed your lips hardly, letting you taste yourself in his mouth.

“I can’t wait any longer…” he confessed against your mouth, while adjusting his position and taking his lenght out, right in your entrance. He looked at your eyes for a glimpse of a second, making sure you wanted it.

And you wanted it.

When he finally started to take you, you could feel your head dizzy from so much pleasure.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you since you walked through that door…” he managed to say, while his body was pushing even deeper into you.

Crowley’s entire being was focused on pleasing you, and he seemed to be enjoying immensely. His hands where touching your entire body, without forgetting any part of it.

He kissed you again, before pulling back from it and adjusting his position, holding you by your hips and rocking them back and forth. You opened your eyes just to find him laughing between moans and thursts. Using a thumb to rub your clit seemed like a fantastic idea, so he went on with it. But it was a lot from you.

“It’s too much, it’s too much…” you managed to say. “Don’t stop…”

“I’m so close…” he let you know, going faster than ever.

You felt your the presence of your climax right there, when you heard him sounding so human, so vulnerable. You clenched around him and that made Crowley reach his orgasm too.

“Oh f—“ he couldn’t even finish the sentence; a wave of pleasure bathe him entirely.

His body fell on top of yours, but he was careful enough not to put his entire weight on you. The palm of his hands ended up at the sides of your head, and he lean in to kiss you passionately. It was a messy and exhausted kiss, but still a hungry one.

“God…” you whispered, your foreheads touching.

“Don’t bring that old bastard to this…” he told you, giggling. “And I’m sorry to ruin the moment, because… fuck, I would totally repeat this thing again, again and again. But…” he said, getting off of you and standing up, fixing his clothes. “I can sense that Aziraphale is near.” he declared.

You stood up quickly, getting your clothes together and started to dress up quickly.

Crowley’s eyes were looking at you getting dressed, with a slight smirk on his face.

“If the angel wasn’t around the corner I would really like to bend you over that desk…” he started again, with his hands in his pockets. “Pull your hair, make you curse me…”

“You’re already wanting more, Crowley? We had a deal.” you said, putting your shoes on.

“I bet I can get you to crave it again.” he swore, taking a step closer to you. You were already clothed, and you turned around to face him, but before you could speak, the door opened.

“Crave what, Crowley?” the familiar voice of Aziraphale made its appearance. You cursed Crowley in your head for not letting you know how close the angel was.

“I don’t know, angel.” Crowley said, getting closer to his longtime friend. “I think your friend still hates me.”

You smiled nervously at Aziraphale.

“Do you still hate him, my friend?” the angel asked you, with both his hands together in front of him. His face was looking mischievous, which was something unusual of him. “It didn’t look like it…”

“Oh my god…” you murmured, directing a hand towards your mouth. “You saw us!”

“Saw what, love?” Crowley asked you now, but at the same time smiling at his friend with complicity. “We don’t know what you’re talking about.”

[princeblue]

Would Sanemi be as hostile towards Genya if he was a girl? Would he hate seeing Tanjirou near her?

Ooohh bit of a complex question for me to answer so this’ll require a bit of a ramble, but essentially yes and no. I don’t particularly imagine Sanemi being less cruel towards a female genya than he would be towards canon Genya. But I don’t see him being more cruel to her either for being a woman, I just think he’d play into whatever he has into his hands. And unfortunately being a woman/girl means you have a lot more for the world to use against you. Especially in taisho era Japan.

For example, slut shaming her, calling her a whore, etc etc. are all very plausible things that Sanemi would do to a female genya in the post canon sense, because if he’s not above blinding her to drive away then why would he be above slut shaming her to drive her away, especially if it’s something the men in their childhood/kyogo used to do to torture her and Sanemi always protected her from it. So if Sanemi is the one now telling her these horrible things, then she must surely recognize her big brother hates her/does not want her in his life <— his thought process.

There’s also the fact that in taisho era japan, women could only get married if a father, or male figure in the family, so sanemi in this case. If he allowed it, so he could also hold that over her head and personally pick who he would want her to marry and so and so on. Another example would be Sanemi telling Genya he’ll forgive her after the eye debacle thing as long as she quits the core and “and then I’ll personally pick out a suitor for you to marry.” Since his whole thing is wanting genya to be married off and to grow old and all that shit. (But not really when his baby starts growing up)

Which would probably be disstressing to her for a number of reasons, no.1 she’d want to marry who she wants to marry, no.2, she doesn’t want to be married so soon she wants to reconcile with her big brother and grow up with him and then be a woman and then start picking out suitors.

Again, to me this isn’t really sanemi being more cruel towards a different version of genya but I’m sure that’s how people will take it anyways. To me this is just sanemi utilizing whats at his disposal. If all of this applied to canon genya off the bat then he would immediately use it too.

But anyway as for seeing her around Tanjirou/any males for that matter? Yeah, I think he’d hate it. Saying that dynamics don’t shift upon your gender is stupid, your agab plays a tremendous role in how you grow up and how you’re perceived and how your relationships grow with the people around you.

He would hate to see her around Tanjirou because he’s a demon slayer, because he has actual literal personal connections to Muzan which is the strongest demon in the world. And yes, because he’s a boy. He’d see a boy around his sister and think all of these things about how he’s dangerous (I even have a fanfic on this where he confronts Tanjirou for courting canon genya on my ao3 btw it’s called only the wind can whisper his name) and blah blah but most importantly his mind would zero in on a boy is around my baby sister and all those fun big brother instincts would come swindling in because he got so focused on slaying demons for her and viewing her as just a little baby, he forgot that other men/boys would view her as something much more grown and fun.

But that wouldn’t be an immediate realization or thought for sanemi with canon genya, it would take observing to realize Tanjirou likes genya before he goes a boy likes my baby brother and then all those types of big brother instincts come in.

And similarly enough, he would worry more about the type of men she would take interest in, would she marry someone like kyogo? Would they hurt her? Use her for nothing more than a breeding cattle like Shizu was treated? Or would she marry a demon slayer and always be second priority and be widowed so very young. Or would she marry someone too weak and have to take all the brunt of the burdens, or would she strike gold and be married to someone who Actually likes her.

I don’t see sanemi trusting her to pick someone good and kind like he would trust canon genya to pick someone good and kind.

But I think sanemi would hate seeing Tanjirou near canon genya anyway for all those reasons listed above, I do change a few things here and there for when I write male genya & sanemi and when I write female genya & sanemi because once again, dynamics, behavior, and how you’re perceived all change based upon your agab. But that’s the fun in genderbending to me tbh, what would change about this character if they were the opposite gender, but how would they still be completely themselves. It’s like a game and challenge for me. And genya just so happens to be mine (and Sanemi’s) pretty princess.

[murky-tannin]

I was confused for some time about how Dapper was canonically part Demon, because it seemed weird with the running mystery around the egg's genetics and creation. But Mouse's new confirmation about certain demons being turned instead of just born has me thinking that's what is happening to Dapper.

Makes me wonder about how that process works. Was it intentional on Bad's part? Turning his son into a demon in hopes of extending his lifespan? Or was it unintentional and he just went along with it when he noticed? Are demons turned fast? Slow? Does it vary? What defines the label of demon?

Dapper's turning seems to be very slow and over the course of months, but maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was a partial turning and it was intentionally partial, or maybe Bad can only partially do so and something else needs to happen for Dapper to be considered a full demon. Or maybe Dapper is a demon and "part demon" was just used because Dapper wasn't born a demon. There are a million more possibilities here I can't list too

Just has me wondering. Especially because Mouse seemed to view the turning of a demon as a bad thing, even if she deep down wanted to turn Cellbit. She said she would if she could. Whether she means she physically couldn't turn him due to lack of ability/knowledge/his physical distance/some other practical reason, or couldn't because that would be bad to do to someone who didn't want it, or couldn't because of the long lifespan and how cruel it would be to make him outlive his loved ones, or couldn't because of whatever that "bad" is, i'm not sure.

No real conclusions here just spinning qsmp demon lore in my brain

[brucewaynehater101]

For damian angst with bruce - how about delving into it as damian fully believing his strongheld his way into becoming robin later on? How maybe secretly Bruce doesn't choose him even after all this time because Dick's his batman

Oh! I love Damian angst, especially when paired up with the miscommunication the Bats are huge fans of.

One of my favorite angst topics to explore is definitely how Damian was introduced to the family, his differences from the other Robins, and some sprinkled in lack of information. There are so many avenues to explore here.

For one, Steph and Damian could bond as the Robins that weren't adopted. Even though Damian is his blood son, there's still an idea that he wasn't chosen.

Another one is the idea that Damian doesn't truly know how Tim became Robin, whether that's Tim getting the suit from Alfred (similar to how Dick gave Damian his suit), Tim not being chosen by Bruce, or whatever. You can have Damian and Tim bonding, Damian trying to fit this change in worldview into his perception of Tim, or Damian being further jealous of Tim due to the older teen *now* being accepted and loved by Bruce.

We can have some angst of Damian believing that Bruce resents him somewhat for taking the mantle of Robin. Tim was the "perfect" Robin for Bruce, and thus that means Bruce must resent Damian for the change in status quo (obviously this is just a mindset Damian can have about the situation. The fact that Bruce didn't revoke Robin from Damian is a great counterpoint for this).

Maybe Damian thinks that Bruce and Dick fighting after Bruce comes back from the timestream is due to Damian. It's Damian's fault that Dick had to give Damian Robin and thus why Dick and Bruce keep getting into screaming matches or why Dick hardly stats around the Manor (again, this is a mindset of Damian and not a true reflection of the situation).

Then, there's the absolutely delicious angst of Damian being perceived as this feral, stabby, murderous, no remorse demon without feelings. Obviously, this isn't the case, but it does hurt when people treat you as an evil being. In particular, the angst of Damian trying to make amends for his past actions and people treating him like the antichrist. They don't necessarily have to forgive him, but hating him and being cruel to him is another thing.

Anyways, thanks for giving me the ideas for Damian angst! I probably won't include all of this into my fic, but there's a few I could definitely use ^^

[koridoru]

Can I request scenario? Plot is next: Muzan in love with his female S/O and at some point decides to confess to her that he is demon. But, instead of being shocked or scared, she is very happy about that, because she can share her food with him, and seeing his confused look, explain to him that she is cannibal.

(this is like the second cannibal ask I've gotten is op ok 😭)

(man i can see the dates on asks now and OOF this is from 2021 augh 😭)

You and Muzan were quite the couple, a power couple, should it be called.

You had been together for about eight months now, Muzan was considering tying the knot already.

But one thing stood in the way, he was a demon, you weren't.

God, he didn't want to even tell you, he couldn't imagine the look of betrayal on your face.

He was cruel and cold hearted, but for whatever reason, not with you.

It took a while, but he mustered up the courage to just tell you.

He opens the door to your room, where you sat on a coushin, brushing your hair.

You look back and smile at him.

"How are you doing, darling?"

Your voice is so sweet he can barely take it.

"My dear, I have to...talk to you about something. Something important."

The sincerity in his voice worries you.

You stand up, setting your comb down.

You walk over to him, taking his hands into yours.

"Is something wrong?"

"It..it should be nothing, dear. I don't want to trouble you."

He puts a finger under your chin, raising your head a bit to face him.

"Darling, I...well.."

You cock your head in confusion.

"Are you aware of...demons?"

Your eyes widen just a bit.

"Yes, I am. Why?"

"Well..." He sighs.

"I suppose I should have told you sooner, but, I am one."

You look shocked, initially, but that soon fades.

You smile at him, which confuses him.

"Well, that explains a lot, especially since I've never seen you eat, or go out in the day."

"You're... you're not upset?"

You shake your head.

"Of course not, now I know I can share my meals with you."

His brows furrow, his blood almost runs cold when you say that, if it wasn't cold already.

"Share your meals? What do you mean?" His voice is laced with confusion.

"I eat people too, silly."

His eyes widen, he hesitate to speak.

"You what? I...are you a demon as well?"

"No, I'm a human who also eats humans." Your tone is oddly cheery and unbothered.

It takes a moment, but he realizes.

He sighs a bit, feeling like a fool.

"I understand. What a lucky man I am to have found a lover who understands me like you do, while also sharing a diet. Well, I don't see any reason to hide anything else from you, dear."

He smiles handsomely, you giggle and hug him close, excited about your future meals together.

"Hmm...what would you say is the tastiest part of a person?"

"Well, that's hard...I suppose the more meaty parts, the thighs, stomach, and sometimes the biceps if they are stronger."

You nod in agreement.

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

The Sacrifice Douma x Reader pt 2

Pairing: Douma x reader

Warnings: Mentions of injuries and scary water( I don’t wanna spoil too much lol)

Summary: Reader Meets the mysterious demon.

Enjoy!

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

“Welcome little flower, I must say I almost didn’t recognize you”.

Those eyes… full of color and yet it’s like there’s nothing behind them. Like a sunny winters day. Deceptively warm. A chilling bite disguised by outward beauty.

Hanako excused herself and shut the door. Leaving you alone to your impending doom. You shifted on your feet. Feeling like a minuscule worm in front of a hungry hawk.

You fixed your eyes on the floor, not being able to take his piercing gaze for more than a few seconds.

“Hmm?” You heard the demon hum and then some shuffling. Soft footsteps echoed in the dim chamber.

“Are you afraid? Well I suppose you would be , you’ve been through a lot my dear. That nasty old man was so cruel wasn’t he?” the demons tone sounded concerned and pitiful but you knew it had to be an act. Demons didn’t feel emotions like that.

“But don’t worry, I took care of him already..” he hummed happily.

Took care? What did that mean exactly?

You looked up slowly, shaky eyes meeting his eerie smile. But not quite having the courage to make it to his eyes yet.

“W-what do you want from me..?” You couldn’t hold back the burning question any longer.

“Ah so you can speak haha, I was beginning to think my bride was a mute”.

…..

What did-

You must’ve heard wrong..

Surely he didn’t say..

No, there’s no way, he said bribe.. or scribe.. yeah maybe he needs a scribe…

“Well back to your question little flower, how much did that filthy noble tell you?”.

“H-he told me I was being sacrificed..to a demon..”

…

“That’s all?” The demon cocked his head.

“That’s all..” you shuffled your feet.

“Oh, no wonder you’re practically shaking, I’m not going to harm you my dear, why don’t you have a seat and I’ll explain a couple things.” He smiled and motioned to a small table in front of his throne thingy. Slowly you moved and sat with your knees tucked under. The demon sat on the other side.

“Aren’t you tired of staring at the table? Look at me little flower, I’d like to speak while actually looking at you.” You didn’t want to, but you also didn’t want to make the demon mad.

Reluctantly you lifted your head until you met those piercing eyes again. Full of beauty but again something was missing behind those eyes.

“Much better, under all that mud I couldn’t tell, but now I see you have the most captivating eyes. Like the color of my favorite flower. I suppose I couldn’t have picked a better name for you” he smiled like he was enjoying an evening of relaxing tea and cakes. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please stop…”

“Hm? Stop what little flower?” He cocked his head to the side. A habit of his it seemed.

“I… whatever this act is.. if you’re going to eat me then please get it over with… don’t make a fool of me..” ugh you had to go and open your mouth. That’s what always got you into trouble, that big mouth of yours.

The demons eyes widened a bit and a look of obliviousness passed his face.

“What ever are you talking about? Why on earth would I eat you?”

Is he being serious?

“B-because you’re a demon..what else would you want with me?”

“Well yes I am a demon, and I won’t lie and say I don’t enjoy eating humans, but after the trouble I went through for you why do you think I would waste that by eating you?”

“B-but then-then why am I here??” Your voice raised slightly.

“Because you’re my bride of course.” He smiled like it was the most natural and obvious thing to say.

….

….

….

“…”

“Little flower?”

“I see” gracefully you stood up.

Douma only looked up curiously.

You smiled and bowed like you’d done a thousand times for nobles.

“Hm?”

It looked like the demon was going to open his mouth but before he could you spun around faster than a viper and in Douma’s opinion quite comically ran out the door leaving him amused and confused all in one.

“What a funny bride I have” he smirked resting his face on his knuckles leisurely.

Meanwhile you were chicken running across the household.

(I imagine something like this lmao, ignore the other guyXD)

Who?! What!? Where!? WHAT WAS HAPPENING!?

Dead, you must have frozen to death that night and this was your weird personalized hell.

No way this could be real. Did that demon really say you were his bride??

You almost let out a laugh. How obsurd. He was just playing with his meal but still, why did everything feel so damn confusing!?

Voices up ahead made you come to a screeching halt.

Quickly you dove into a nearby room, thankful it seemed to be empty and collapsed to the ground.

Your heavy breathes filled the silence of the room.

Just what the heck was happening to you?!

Your arms wrapped around yourself for comfort. Maybe running away from a demon lord wasn’t the best idea but he surely was powerful enough to stop you if he really wanted to.

Still you did what you always did, act first and think later. You’d probably made him mad and he was plotting your horrible end right now.

Chances of escaping a demon were low, you knew that but you at least had to try.

Sighing your eyes roamed around the dim little room you took refuge in. The only door was the one you came in through so that was out.

Tall shelves filled with books and scrolls lined the walls. It seemed like your only option was to nestle yourself behind them until dark, maybe then it would be easier to make your escape. The sun was already low in the sky so you knew you wouldn’t have to wait too much longer.

Whilst sitting in anxiety, curiosity also got the best of you. You reached for a wood bound book on the shelf in front of you.

The cover was etched with dark lines, swirled and straightened to make two figures. One feminine with long flowing hair and one masculine. The pair were embracing one another lovingly. You slowly ran a finger over the title trying to decode its meaning.

You knew how to read, but not better than a child. Unfortunately slaves were not given priority when it came to education.

Un-und

Under

The

Under the m-

Moonl

Under the moonlight

No

Under the moonlit s-sk sk sky

Aha!

Under the moonlit sky

You poked a finger under the wooden edge and turned it upwards.

You would’ve loved to try to read more but the pages were too dark, which meant your time to escape had come.

Gingerly, as to not aggravate your already aching body, you slowly got up.

You pressed your ear to the door.

Silence.

You let out a shakey breath before slowly sliding the door open.

The halls seemed empty which was a good start.

Tiptoeing quietly sounded like thunder striking on these creaky wooden floorboards.

Be quiet be quiet be quiet be quiet be quiet

Finally after what seemed like a lifetime you got behind the structure and onto open field. It was very hard to see, of course it was a moonless night because you always had shit luck.

The grass was soft under your sandals, damp still from fallen rain earlier that day you guessed.

You could vaguely make out some lantern light away in the distance. Seeing as you didn’t really have many options you started following it.

You tried not to let the darkness panic you. Thankfully your goal of escaping kept the short breathes and chest pain that being in the complete dark usually caused. Along with the horrible memories that paired with them…

Your thoughts must’ve distracted you too much or maybe it was because it was basically pitch black that you didn’t have time to react properly as your right foot descended down onto what was supposed to be soft grass and instead slid down something that gave way with a squish.

Your foot slid so suddenly down the mud that your whole body pitched forward tumbling into what you had first assumed would be a mud patch but to your horror what was supposed to be squishy was icy cold and wet.

It took your body being completely enveloped in the freezing waters to realize you fell into a body of water. A big one apperantly because as you desperately tried to find the ground with your feet you failed.

Flailing your legs and arms you tried to find the edge but it was so damn dark and you were in so much pain.

It didn’t help that you never quite learned to swim.

Your head tried to stay above but it was uselsss and soon you started taking big gulps of liquid.

You couldn’t-didn’t know how to stay afloat so you sank.

Deep

Deep

Deeper

And it was dark

So very dark

What a truly pitiful end.

You fought so hard these years and for what?

At least the demon wouldn’t have the satisfaction of tearing you apart.

Your lungs burned and you couldn’t hold your breath any longer.

So you let go.

God it was painful, the water rushing in.

Was it possible to cry underwater?

I

I wish I could’ve had more time

I wish

I-

….

….

…

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

Oooh who could that be 🤭

Please lemme know what you think! Thanks for reading!

Part 3

@hoerangho5hi @palmtreeoceansworld @olxvxa-rdra @tsukilover11 @warringwarrioridiot @abandonedhhearts

[circetalia]

It's done! I played around and wrote my Grey warden! Illario fic! Or at least the beginning, when he became blighted and was conscripted.

You can read it here on Ao3!

You can also read it under the cut!

Words: 2k

Right of Conscription

The cell was damp and dingy–a stark contrast to the other buildings around and in Treviso that were normally adorned with vibrant decorations and warmth. The window provided a nice, clear view of the city, that is it would’ve if the city weren’t blighted. It instead showed the clear view of the blight spreading, the dark orange sky polluting the city, and the sick, wounded, and Crows’ fight against the darkspawn. Blight tendrils reached up towards the sky along many buildings in the distance, alongside the canals, and among the building the cell was nestled in, creeping inside via the windows, cracks and crevices.

The moans of the infected could be heard from all around, the guards showing no sympathy for them. Prisoners, as they were, weren’t allowed to even have a chance to fight the blight. Some of them were killed the moment the blight showed up in them, others were toyed with and left to suffer until they were either about to turn or turned.  The ones who lived long enough without catching the blight either chanced the water or outright didn’t drink at all. Death by dehydration was better than being blighted, after all. Less painful and faster than the blight most of the time.

Illario sat upon the poor cot the prison was supplied with, hands against his head. It was hard to think with all the cries around him, even if outside people seemed to be celebrating.

‘Celebrating?’ He thought. The blight was everywhere, in his city, and they were celebrating? That could only mean one thing: the Gods, everything, was dealt with. That they had all won. He slightly turned his head to glare out the window–to see what was going on. The cacophony of noise was only getting stronger, and with his situation it was only making his head ache worse.

People were dancing, laughing, and cheering out in the markets. He didn’t have a full view of it, but enough to see the slight celebration that was going on. His eyes wandered back down to the ground. If he had been successful in his plan, he wouldn’t be here. But then again, people wouldn’t be celebrating the way they were. Instead the city would’ve been overrun by Venatori, and Antaam most likely. It was only a guess if the Antaam would’ve been dealt with or not if he succeeded, but most likely the forces would’ve combined. Maybe Treviso would’ve become like Minrathous, or what he heard of it at least. Blocked off from the rest of Thedas, a testing ground for what the Gods’ plan was.

He sat there in his cell listening to the coughs and moans of the sick and infected. A stark contrast from the cheers and yells from outside. Death only awaited them inside. The coward that couldn’t even bring it quick and smoothly. He reminisced on the night he was brought there, what he had rambled off to Viago as they neared the cell.

‘Death would’ve been preferable,’ he said as the Fifth Talon dragged him along. ‘The blight’ll catch all of us anyways. Locking me up is more cruel than death in these conditions. He’s a coward.’ Viago just grunted in disgust as he dragged the wounded man along. 

‘Turns out the demon does have a heart.’ Illario remarked as he was thrown into the cell. He didn’t say much afterwards. There was no point.

The sound of the guard angrily yelling at another prisoner broke him free from his mind. Another one turning, another one dead. The sound of the blade was quick, the gurgles of the prisoner as they choked on their own blood disgusted him.

‘That’s going to happen to me, isn’t it?’ he thought. Death would’ve been a mercy to this. He didn’t even think the prisoner was blighted, just the guard was on a power trip and proving a point that he could do whatever he wanted if he so much as chose to. Illario just quietly sighed and leaned back against the wall. It was all he could do, sit there and stare at a wall or stare at the blight. It was pointless to fight back.

The guard made his way towards each cell, a singular piece of bread in one hand and water in the other. Almost every prisoner had given up, took it without question. But Illario? Something about the cheers outside flipped a switch in him.

When the guard came to his cell, he accepted the bread and refused the water.

“It’s water.” The guard sneered at him. “Drink up.”

“It’s blighted.” Illario remarked back. The guard didn’t move. Instead he smirked.

“If it’s blighted, you’ll turn. Then we can dispatch of you. But if it’s not, then it's the Makers’ will, no? Drink it, the blight will catch you anyways.” The guard thrusted the cup into Illario’s hand, turning on his heel and going towards the next cell. He didn’t think the guard was a pious man, however the statement proved Illario wrong otherwise. Either that or it was just a manipulation tactic. 

He looked down at the cup in his hand as he questioned what to do. On one hand, he could chance it and end up fine, beating the dehydration he had been fighting against for the past week. On the other hand, he would become blighted. A slow, painful death was what he had in mind for that, since the guard seemed to like to toy with everyone who was blighted recently. He looked back out the window–at the blighted sky– and sighed. If his cousin wasn’t going to give him the mercy of death, he might as well do so.

He could taste the blight in the water as he drank it, his face contorting in a sad disgust as he swallowed. He threw the bread slice out the window, knowing that it would only take a few days for the infection to start showing. Why eat when you’re already knocking at Deaths’ door?

───────────────

Days or weeks passed, Illario didn’t know. He stopped counting after a while, he wasn’t getting out anytime soon and it just made the time go longer. He had been suppressing coughs that wouldn’t stop coming, a sign that the blight had taken hold. The guards started avoiding his cell too, another clear sign he had become infected. And just like he thought, he wasn’t killed the moment it had started showing. He didn’t know what he looked like, how the blight had twisted him. Even the simplest of vanities was impossible to do in the cell. His hair had become a twisted mess, no longer in his updo he usually does, his clothes dirtied and tattered. The blight surely made him look ten times worse.

The celebrations died down and now people were out and about fighting the blight, but he had stopped paying attention. Instead he lay on his cot just staring up at the ceiling. In the time it took for the blight in the water to take hold, the blight had creeped into his cell–twisting and turning its way up the walls and across the ceiling. It was oddly beautiful, in a way. If only for the fact it was one of the only things he had seen growing in the past year. Like twisted, black vines, just without the leaves.

His eyes closed as another violent coughing fit came about, blood coming out of his mouth and onto his hand and splattering on the floor. The guard on duty glared in disgust at the sight, and got up to yell at him when the door to the prison opened. Illario didn’t see who came in, but he could tell from their voices it wasn’t the prison warden.

Instead, it was a female and male’s voice. They talked to the guard at the door for a while, yet he couldn’t hear what they were talking about. After what seemed like ages, the guard finally came up into the middle of the room.

“Alright, it’s your lucky day! The Grey Wardens have come to help fight the blight, and they’re willing to take any blighted prisoners with them.” His voice boomed as he gave the announcement. Illario’s head jerked up as he squinted out of his cell. It was just like the stories he heard growing up. Warden’s saving people who caught the blight, taking in anyone for a path of redemption. He slowly sat up as he clutched his side in pain.

He noticed there were two Wardens next to the guard. A tattooed dwarven woman and a scarred elf man. The elf was smiling and looking at the dwarven women as she spoke.

“The Warden’s take in anyone, prisoners or no. With the fall of Weisshaupt, the Wardens are stretched thin. While the Final Blight has passed and we won’t be needing as many Wardens as we had in the past, we still need to bring up our ranks. So we’re enabling our right to conscript,” the dwarven woman explained. “However, given the situation Treviso is in, we won’t be taking everyone in this prison. We’re taking only the blighted and infected ones, the people we can save.” As she finished, the elven man brought out a vile and a chalice. He poured the vial into the chalice–a thick, red liquid coming out. Illario had killed enough to know what it was: blood. He also knew the Grey Wardens kept a lot of secrets, and if having to drink blood was the way to join, then they were more cult-like then he had thought.

Two prisoners went before him, and he heard the slight thuds of their bodies hit the ground shortly after they had taken the chalice from the pair. He didn’t know what to expect. Maybe they were squeamish, or maybe the vial was a poison instead. When the pair reached him, they handed him the chalice the same as they did the previous prisoners.

“Drink this,” the dwarven woman said. “It’s the blood of darkspawn, plus a little of an Archedemons’ blood as well.”

“If you survive, you’ll accompany us once we have the rest partake in the ritual as well.” The elven man chimed in.

“If I survive?” Illario’s eyes widened. The elven man chuckled softly, trying to settle the mood.

“Ah, yes, well, the Joining can kill you. If you aren’t resistant enough. But it’s still a better death than succumbing to the blight, non?”

That’s what this was, a mercy killing. Two ways out, either way, but one offered a quicker death than the blight. He hesitated while grabbing the chalice, sighed and then took a sip. What followed was indescribable. The most searing headache, terrible nightmares and visions, and the want to claw one's own eyes out.

When he came back to from the visions, his head still pounding, the pair had two other prisoners’ next to them. The elven man noticed as Illario slowly got up, slightly swaying as he grabbed the wall for support.

“You survived!” He exclaimed as the guard unlocked Illario’s cell door. The elven man rushed in to help him gain his balance, leading him to the group.

“You’re officially a Warden now. Only three survived–including yourself–but that’s normal. Unfortunately. Not everyone is cut out for and can handle the ritual.” He pointed enthusiastically at the group as the dwarf cleared her throat. 

“I believe introductions are to be in order. My name is Evka Ivo, and this here is my husband, Antoine Ivo.”

He introduced himself to the pair. The other two prisoner’s mumbled their names, Illario didn’t pay attention. He wasn’t interested in making friends with them. But he recognized the Wardens after hearing their names. They were the ones who worked with the Veilguard and against the blight. He heard some of the Crows mention them, as well. If they were the ones conscripting him, then he might have an even better chance at redemption than he thought.