#demon days: scarlet sin

[comicwaren]

“Here, at last, I’ve found my home! And I will fight for it.” -- Mariko Yashida

Cover art for Demon Days: Scarlet Sin #001, “Into the Spirit World: Part Four”

Art by Peach Momoko

[heckcareoxytwit]

A preview of Demon Wars: Scarlet Sin #1

DEMON WARS: SCARLET SIN #1

INTO THE SPIRIT WORLD, PART FOUR

The yokai are at war, and Mariko Yashida, descendent of the Oni King, has to choose a side. The fates of the spirit world and the human world hang in the balance. But things just got complicated thanks to the appearance of a mysterious yokaii with incredible power. This Yokai has a scheme of her own, and she wants to paint the world…scarlet. You can’t afford to miss the cataclysmic conclusion of Peach Momoko’s epic DEMON WARS saga!

CONTINUED FROM DEMON WARS: DOWN IN FLAMES #1

Written by: Peach Momoko Art by: Peach Momoko Cover by: Peach Momoko Page Count: 36 Pages Release Date: May 3, 2023

[dispatchdcu]

Demon Wars: Scarlet Sin #1 Preview

Demon Wars: Scarlet Sin #1 Preview #DemonWarsScarletSin #demondays #demonwars #MARVEL #marvelcomics #comics #comicbooks #news #mcu #art #info #NCBD #comicbooknews #previews #reviews #xmen #amazon

Demon Wars: Scarlet Sin #1 Preview: The yokai are at war, and Mariko Yashida, descendent of the Oni King, has to choose a side. The fates of the spirit world and the human world hang in the balance. But things just got complicated thanks to the appearance of a mysterious yokaii with incredible power. This Yokai has a scheme of her own, and she wants to paint the world…scarlet. You can’t afford to…

[randomshyperson]

Heal - Scarlet!Wanda x Vampire!Reader - Kinktober #08

Summary: By freeing an imprisoned immortal from the Darkhold Castle, the Scarlet Witch did not expect to gain a friend who would help her heal the woman she tried to bury in the temple's wreckage. In return, Wanda might help you face the demons from your past that were locked away with you.

Warnings: (+18), service!top reader, praising, intimate smut, blood-feeding, vampire and witchcraft lore, and a lot of plot, implied depression and self-harming tendencies, really soft smut with explicit consent, mutual pining, friends to lovers | Words: 9.671k

A/N-> My only vampire reference is TVD, so expect many similarities to the show’s lore. And I repeat again that there is a sinful lack of stories that deal with the status of wizarding royalty of which Wanda is part. Please, she literally has the title of Queen of Chaos, her family has inherited the magic of chaos for generations, we need to talk about this. I hope you guys like this one, this story ended up having more depth than I expected and it was quite fun to write it.

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

After destroying a thousand-year-old castle and not getting out of the impact zone, Wanda definitely didn't expect comfort. In addition to the pain of recent events, from realizing that she had finally become a villain, and was closer to the people who had destroyed her life than to the friends she once lost, she also had to see the clear fear in the alternative versions of the children she missed. So she put an end to it all, more tired than anything, and waited for the pain to go away. The blackout from the impact put an end to it, of course, and just like years before when she turned to dust after losing the only person she still had left, she breathed a sigh of relief into the darkness.

But Wanda woke up. And to her complete surprise, comfort came in the softest sheets she had ever felt, perhaps even more comforting than the expensive cloth Tony Stark had once bought for the rooms in Avengers Tower. The bed she was lying on could easily have been mistaken for royalty, and Wanda barely had time to become alert before a slightly unfamiliar face entered her field of vision.

"You." She gasped in surprise, her voice a little hoarse. Now conscious, she was aware of the pain around her body, but she could also feel her magic doing the hard work and taking the sensation away. You smiled gently and, without leaving your sitting position on her bed, waited for her to adjust to the mattress. Wanda frowned. "But why?"

You sighed, shrugging slightly. Now sitting up, Wanda realized that your lap wasn't empty. A breakfast tray was waiting for her as if you were aware that she would wake up soon and had brought the food just in time. The item was leisurely placed next to her, but Wanda continued to look at you, waiting for an explanation as to why someone who had disappeared almost the second after the first meet, reappeared to save her from the wreckage of her mistakes.

"I know you're confused, but please eat. You've slept for days, miss." It's your comment, but the witch shakes her head.

"Don't worry about it. It's... nowhere near the longest I've gone without food." The quiet confession about the period of darkhold abuse makes you sigh sadly, and Wanda feels a curiosity rise in her chest. You don't know her, so why do you care? 

Your hands move to the toast you've prepared for her, and Wanda bites the inside of her cheek as she finally notices the tray with your movements. Your breakfast choices are just right - delicious foods stare back at her. And you busy yourself with adding some jam to the toast that makes Wanda's mouth water.

"Forgive me for taking so long to find you, I was a bit overwhelmed upon returning after so long." You then declare, handing back the now-filled toast to one of the smaller plates. You push the item towards her as an invitation, but Wanda glares at you.

"Why did you bother coming back?"

Your eyes are kind in her direction. "I owe you my freedom."

Wanda chuckles short and incredulously. "Don't be ridiculous, I didn't even know what I was doing." She retorts immediately. "I saved you by accident, you don't owe me anything."

But you gesture to the food, and Wanda sighs in defeat, finally giving in. At the first bite, she feels the delicious jam on her tongue and sighs in satisfaction. It's amazing, she lets you know. You smile.

"It doesn't matter if our meeting was accidental, Wanda Maximoff." You state. "Your magic broke me out of my prison. If the idea of a debt doesn't please you, we can act as if upon rescuing you, I made us even."

Wanda hums with her mouth full, slightly distracted by the food. You look away, waiting for a moment, and she finishes chewing before speaking again.

"I didn't want to be rescued."

"I know."

She looks at you again, but you continue to stare straight ahead into the room. "Do you?"

You smile briefly. "Nobody who wants to live knocks down a castle on their head, miss."

The chuckle that escapes her is short, but it's the first sincere one in a long time. It's so dark, to joke about something so serious, yet she feels completely at ease doing it with you.

Wanda finishes another piece of toast before speaking again. "Do you remember the sorcerer who was with me before, when I freed you?" You meet her gaze, nodding in agreement. Wanda looks at you curiously. "He nearly shit his pants when he saw you running away from the temple. He tried to lecture me about it, and I dragged him out of there for it. But the point is... what did you do? He only told me your name. What was so terrible that your escape scared him so much?"

You sigh, getting up. Wanda imagines that she has offended you by asking and that you will leave without telling her the whole truth, and considers spying on your mind to find that out, but you just walk to the nearest drawers on the other side of the bedroom. When you return with an object in hand, Wanda wipes away the toast crumbs before accepting the item you hand her.

The old photograph makes her eyes widen. "Holy shit." She sighs impressed, getting a short laugh out of you.  Your picture wasn't a surprise, but the date from over three hundred years ago faded by the bottom. Wanda flipped the item to see the back, but your name there didn’t really explain how you were standing in front of her, as if no time had passed.

"Humans call us Vampires, but I've always liked the sound of Immortal better. Of course, the term vampire beats being called a demon or a bloodsucker." Wanda doesn't laugh at the joke, as she raises wide eyes in surprise at you. She continues to hold up the photograph, and you swallow. "I promise I won't try to harm you." Finally, she chuckles softly. You sigh in reassurance, even though the witch has just mocked your strength.

"I can't believe vampires exist." 

"Said the witch who traveled through the multiverse a few days ago." Wanda smiles, handing the photograph back to you. 

"Fair point." She murmurs. Restless, you wonder what you can do to improve her mood. She seems so sad.

Perhaps your stories could distract her. 

"I was imprisoned in Darkhold Castle a few centuries ago." You tell her, attracting her curiosity again. Your hands go into your pockets so that you can regain some ground over the full attention of such beautiful and mesmerizing irises. "There are other mystical authorities, apart from Kamar-Taj and its mages. In particular, a council of vampires. I disagreed with some traditions and was sentenced to imprisonment, but my capture was not quiet. Let's just say I earned that tomb you rescued me from, Miss." Wanda nodded in understanding, offering a small smile that ensured she wasn't judging you. It would be comical to do so, after everything that had led up to this moment. Adding to the count of her own crimes, she apparently unleashed an immortal mass murderer.

Wanda looks around, sighing softly. "I presume this place is yours."

You nod but look away from her. "Many of my properties were lost with my imprisonment. Taken back by the Council, or even stolen by other creatures. I'll deal with these usurpers later." The comment made Wanda bite the corner of her mouth. She'd never seen a vampire fight, and you seemed so sure of your own strength over anyone who stood up to you. It was attractive somehow. She pushed the thought away faster than it came. "Of course, you're welcome to stay as long as you need, even if I'm not around."

The statement makes Wanda chuckle in surprise, her cheeks slightly warm. "What? I can’t accept that. I will certainly not abuse hospitality-"

"Don't be ridiculous." You repeat her previous words with an easy smile, and the casual comment sounds different from your formal attitude so far that It's so charming that Wanda has to look away awkwardly, surprised by her own perceptions. "It's a pleasure to have you as a guest. And honestly, it's nice to have someone around after so long." The sincere confession makes her smile. Wanda understood loneliness well. You sigh. "There's enough room in this house. You can stay as long as you need."

Wanda nods. "How exactly did you get me here? And where is here exactly?"

"Northern Europe, but I'm not sure if the country's name remained the same as it was three centuries ago. And I didn't want to carry you so far from the castle, and I figured you didn't intend to return to Nepal and their Kamar Taj’s mages as well."

Wanda grimaces. "What do you mean with ‘carry me’?"

You chuckle slightly. "You were unconscious, Miss Maximoff. And buried under rubble when I found you. We don't have the same magical abilities,  so I can’t use the power of the mind to move objects or people. I picked you up, and brought you with me."

She needs to see this, and the invasion in your mind caught you off guard. Flashes of memories turn clear in your head, your figure pushing rocks out of the way until you find Wanda unconscious. You actually picked her up in your arms and started moving. At some point, you found a car, but good kilometers on the ice at high speed were walked.

Wanda leaves your mind with a sigh, and for the first time, you look upset.

"Please ask next time."

She's still coming to terms with the fact that you ran through the snow with her in your arms to apologize. "You walked half a continent for me?"

You shrug. "I ran, to be fair. Don't worry about that, it wasn't any trouble. My kind has enough strength and speed for a journey like that."

But the ease didn't detract from the significance of the attitude. Wanda could hardly remember the last time anyone had done anything for her - not even Vision, who was her partner, seemed to share any guilt when signing accords that wanted her in jail; And now a stranger was rescuing her at the end of the world just to bring her to safety, without expecting anything in return.

Her silence makes you clear your throat. "I'll give you some privacy. There's more food if you want it, and this is a suite, so the toilet is through that door. I've also taken the liberty of ordering clothes in your size while you’ve been asleep, they're all in the closet. The whole property can be explored, please feel free to do so. There’s a library and art rooms. And please, if you decide to leave, say farewell first."

Wanda smiles tenderly at your request, and you turn away. She finally realizes that you look very tidy, and calls out to you before you can leave the room.

"Are you going out?"

"Just for a few hours." You answer, frowning at the way her expression falls. "Is something wrong?"

Wanda sighs. "I just… don’t wanna be alone."

Despite the sympathy in your eyes, you hesitate. A hand on the doorframe. "Forgive me, miss, I promise I won't be long and that we can spend the rest of the day together." 

Wanda waves your concern away, starting to stand up. "Relax, I'll be fine, I wouldn't want to get in the way of your appointments. I'll explore the house while you're gone."

But despite her casual attitude, you call out to her with a certain seriousness that makes Wanda look at you again. There's something in your expression that makes it clear that you didn't buy Wanda's act at all, and that you can clearly see that she was being serious about her loneliness. Your eyes had a guilty aspect because you couldn't stay. 

You sigh, looking away as you explain: "I must feed myself, Miss Maximoff. Please don't think I'm avoiding your company."

She is slightly surprised by the confession and doesn't know exactly what to say about it. She decides to just nod, without the courage to question you further on the subject even though she's dying to know exactly in which way you're going to feed yourself.

And when you leave her alone, and she wanders around the huge rooms of that mansion, she can't help wondering where you are, if it's like in vampire stories, and you're in some alley cornering an unwary human, or if hunting animals is enough. She becomes so absorbed in her own doubts that when you return, she hasn't even finished seeing the whole place.

"Having fun?" Your question startles her slightly. She smiles, turning her attention away from the art paintings in the room and meeting your gaze again.

"You move silently."

"A talent we share."

Wanda chuckles and waits for you to approach her completely. Side by side, she is the first to speak.

"Everything here is very beautiful." She says softly. "And I may not be centuries old, but I'm no fool. It sounds too good to be true. Be honest, Y/N. What do you hope to get from me?"

You frown, taking one hand out of your pocket to gesture a little. "You have a suspicious nature, Miss Maximoff."

She snorts softly." Y/N..."

But you smile, and Wanda gasps softly because your hand moves to her face, a gentle touch to move a strand of hair out of the way of her eyes. "Not everyone wants to take something from you, Miss. Some people just want to give." Wanda ignores the intensity of your gaze, the quickening of her heartbeat, and raises her hand to grab your wrist and interrupt your intention to stroke her cheek straight away. Her eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion in your direction, although your smile never falters. "I could just force you to talk."

"There's no need for that, we can talk over dinner."

She hesitates, aware of the heat on her cheeks. You seem to have a personal victory and Wanda lets go of your hand immediately. 

"Wipe that smile off your face, it's not... that kind of dinner. We don't even know each other." She mutters embarrassedly. You return to your previous position, relaxed with your hands in the pockets of your dress pants and Wanda crosses her arms annoyed at the way her stupid brain keeps finding you more attractive every time she looks at you. 

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, miss." You retort humorously. "It's a strictly professional dinner."

She rolls her eyes, turning away to hide her smile from you.

"Just introduce me to the rest of the house."

"It's funny, all witches are always bossy." You comment, letting her gently pat your shoulder even though you could easily escape the gesture if you wanted to.

-&-

"I didn't know vampires cooked."

You chuckle, without taking your eyes off the knife cutting the vegetables. "Have you met many vampires?"

Wanda bites back a smile, rolling her eyes softly. "No, you're the first." She says, watching from the counter stool as you masterfully prepare dinner. "But I thought you guys didn't need to eat."

"We don't, not food at least." You retort gently, even though the implication makes Wanda's eyes sparkle with curiosity. You, despite being busy preparing the meal, notice the slight excitement and give a soft laugh. "If wished, my body can imitate all the biological functions it had before I died. This includes food." To illustrate, you take one of the cut pieces of carrot into your mouth, chewing and swallowing as you finish chopping the vegetables. Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, gathering the courage to ask you what she wishes to know.

When you pour the cut vegetables into a pot, she clears her throat. "Would it be insensitive if I asked how it happened?"

"Very." You smile back. Wanda sighs slightly, feeling like a little child trying to be liked. 

Please, please, notice me and talk to me.

The fire is lit, you wash off the excess vegetable stock and wipe your hands on a tea towel. You speak again.

"It's 2024, which means that in the winter it will be 320 years since my transformation." You begin a little nostalgically, your hands resting on the counter behind you. "Twenty was the age at which I died."

Wanda frowns. "You were so young."

"Yes, I was." You agree with a sad smile. "I used to work here, right in this mansion." Wanda adjusts herself, curiosity taking over completely. "I was raised by this family all my life, and when I fell ill, they decided there was no longer any place for me here."

The witch swallows dryly but doesn't interrupt your story. You look down, bringing your hands in front of your stomach to turn the larger ring you're wearing between your fingers.

"Sick servants would be sent away, so as not to spread the disease to the rest of the house. I died on the road."

Wanda frowns slightly. "Who bit you?"

"Bit me?" You retort in confusion. 

She chuckles awkwardly. "Yes, that's how it works, isn't it? Vampires bite humans and turn them."

It's your turn to laugh, a little impressed. "What? No, by the gods! Imagine how many of us there would be out there if every time a vampire fed, he turned someone? No, no, it's a bit more complicated." You comment casually. "You see, there's an immortality spell, created by the same author of the book that was with you when we met. Original vampires are made by ancient magic, and these can have bloodlines. Weaker vampires are transformed by their blood. And others can be created, even weaker by their descendants. The trick is to die with magical blood in your system so that your soul will be trapped by the magic and will not leave your body. It is then reanimated a few hours after we die. To complete the transformation, we must feed."

She absorbs your words for a moment. Until she finally asks: "Who transformed you?"

You lick your lips, shifting your eyes to the pot as if to confirm the cooking time, before turning away from the counter. "Come with me, I want to show you something."

She follows you around the mansion, way past the kitchen to another level. The entrance hall extends into a long corridor with many old paintings. Finally silver doors at the end.

"This is the main suite of the mansion." You clarify, fiddling with a bunch of keys kept in your pocket until now. Apparently, the only locked room was that one. "It's been adapted, moved from the upper floor to here on the lower level since, at the end of her life, the owner couldn't take the stairs."

Once unlocked, you push the doors open with both hands, exposing the immense royal suite inside. Wanda thinks it looks a lot like fantasy books and is busy admiring the decorations when she comes across a painting on the wall that knocks the air out of her lungs.

"What...?" She approached with uncertain steps until she was touching the painting with her fingers, groping for the drawing of a face that could easily be mistaken for her own. "How is that possible?" She demanded to know, turning to you.

You were still standing in the doorway, your hands in your pockets. "This is your ancestor."

"And why the hell does she have my face?"

"Heritage?" You retort good-humoredly, but Wanda snorts incredulously, advancing towards you angrily. You quickly raise your hands in surrender, a nervous laugh escaping as you see the fury in her eyes. “I’m joking, dear lord! I didn't mean to upset you. Let me tell you the whole story!."

"It better be a very good one." She retorts, watching you intently as if expecting a kidnap attempt.

You sigh, nodding before turning your face to the photo. "Her name was Elizabeth. She's gone if that's not obvious. This painting was done over four centuries years ago when your family was still known as the Maksymovs. They lived well, your ancestors, as you can see from the amount of gold in this manor. But sorcery and witchcraft were never very well-liked anywhere, and just like the rest of us, your family was hunted down." You say, stepping aside to open the curtains and light up the room. Still, on your back, you continued to talk. "I was just a little girl when Lady Maksymov took me in, Elizabeth’s mother. I cleaned and cooked, and I was lucky enough to be allowed inside the mansion. To share the room with the family. All due respect to their memories, but my Lady was not a decent person. She was cruel and harsh and preferred to die on the mountain of money than give a little to the children she watched depart for this place. I stayed here because I had no other choice in life, and when the neighbors began to question what she was doing in the basement, she was taken away just like her children.  And unlike her mother or any of her siblings, Elizabeth was not a very talented witch. Her magic was dormant. That poor woman, always so sad under the cruelties shouted at her by her relatives. She could never master chaos but it got better when she gave in to the darkhold's allure. Unfortunately for the servants, her gentle personality was gone once her magic control was improved. I remember her dark fingers chastising me every time I failed to fold the sheets correctly."

Wanda swallowed at the anger hidden. Your posture was enough for her to believe your words.

“Why did she turn you?”

You smile sadly. "I was just a means to an end." You reply. "Elizabeth was what they called a Siphoner. Although descended from a powerful witch lineage, she couldn't generate her own magic. She could only steal it from elsewhere, either from a magic book or from a vampire." 

Wanda sighs as she understands, and you chuckle in upset. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You weren't even close to existing back then."

She moves closer. "Still, on behalf of my family, I'm sorry." The witch says as gently as she can. "I can hardly imagine how painful that probably was."

You shrug, trying to be casual. "That was a long time ago, Miss Maximoff." You mumble before sighing. "And it didn't work out the way she wanted either. Elizabeth didn't intend to use me as her magical reservoir for so long. She wanted me to transform her. Make her a heretic, a vampire-witch hybrid so that she could steal magic from her own nature. And like a good servant, I did just that."

Wanda could feel the force of your painful memories with her telekinesis, flashes of vivid images in your mind begging to be relieved. A personal torture. 

"Let me guess, that was the rule you broke that put you in that tomb."

You lower your head, looking very upset all of a sudden. "No, Miss Maximoff. I was loyal until I wasn't anymore." Wanda frowns in confusion, but you sigh and stare at your own reflection in the window. "The abuse of the Darkhold destroyed Lady Elizabeth. Not even the spell of immortality could heal her, remove the rot from her soul. We traveled the world, searching for potions and creatures and anything we could find to help her, but I knew that the slaughter she was doing in the name of her own health had to be stopped. When our last trip ended, I told her I wouldn't help her anymore."

Wanda can see clearly now; the wrathful recollections of a witchy lady with an almost demonic appearance. The hold of the Darkhold on Elizabeth's soul. How you're only trying to defend yourself when you strike back.

You sniffle, turning your face away, and Wanda blocks your memories from her mind immediately.

"No greater dishonor than ingratitude." You mutter. "I shouldn't have turned my back on Elizabeth. She died alone in this empty mansion, taken by her illness. I returned to a rotten land wracked by dark magic. I restored every stone and raised the mansion to its original state. I lived as a vampire for a decade before I was captured. Elizabeth, in her last vengeful act, left a letter denouncing all her family's crimes to the magical authorities of the time. A lineage who survived the witch-hunts, chased by their own kind like animals. I wore the same coat of arms and slept in the family mansion, so they didn't care that my surname wasn't the same. But I wasn't a witch to die, and the darkhold refused to show the executors exactly how to kill me. The solution was a prison."

You're surprised that Wanda reaches for your hand, but you don't pull away. She also gives you a small smile.

"Three hundred years is too long to punish someone who had no choice." She says, the gesture of her thumb caressing your palm making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Definitely too long without touching someone was messing with your head. Little did you know, Wanda was going through something quite similar. Starved for physical touch. "Is that why you're being so generous? Do you think you owe this family a debt?" You swallow, nodding, and Wanda sighs. " Sweetheart..."

"Please let me serve you." Your tone is almost desperate, Wanda shakes her head. "Please-"

"This isn't the 1700s, Y/N. I won't be your lady." She assures you, her grip tighter. "You're a person, not a property."

"I'd be dead if it weren't for Elizabeth-"

"She was cruel and selfish, and she used you to your last breath. And beyond!" Wanda interrupts, not losing her composure when you huff impatiently and pull your hand away. "You can grumble all you want. I'm not going to honor the memory of some slave owner, family or not. You're free to go."

"But I don't want to leave, Wanda." You snap, almost pleading. "This is my home. Serving your family has always been... my purpose. Turning my back on it made me lose everything. And then you saved me, and for a second, I thought I could see Elizabeth again. I ran to this place, and I realized how much time had actually gone by." You sniffle, your hands going to Wanda's shoulders. "Please. Caring is the only thing I know how to do right."

Wanda sighs, her hands finding your wrists. "This isn't caring, Y/N, this is servitude. I would never ask this of you." Your expression falls as if you're being rejected. Wanda stops your hands from moving away. "But I could use a friend."

Your face lights up, and Wanda smiles too because she thinks you look so beautiful now. "Oh, that... is really very sweet. I'd be honored."

The witch chuckles. "You're adorable. Come, our lunch should be ready soon." She doesn't mention that you two walk into the kitchen hand in hand, and you don't mind, so you don't say anything either.

-&-

"I can't believe you don't know what McDonald's is."

"And I can't believe you've never been to the Opera, but here we are."

Wanda chuckles, shaking her head in disbelief at your response. You're sitting on the living room floor, or rather on cushions on the carpet because you refused to sit so informally and she was still working on getting you to relax into the casual way of living life in that century. 

Weeks into a roommate routine, your activities consisted of having meals together and talking about everything and nothing at the same time. You'd spent 300 years imprisoned, and Wanda had a multitude of things to introduce you to, while you'd been raised by the ancient witch family of the ancestors of a woman who knew little about her origins. You had as much to tell as she did.

Most days when you two would leave the Mansion, you would experience things that you had never experienced before. Restaurants, food trucks, and even the invention of cars or electricity. The Mansion needed to be restored too, but Wanda was happy to know that it hadn't been abandoned.

It was magically hidden, and she had distant cousins from very old marriages in her distant line. It was one of the best pieces of news she'd ever received - to know that she wasn't the only Maximoff left.

The Manor had been cared for over the centuries by escape witches, some of whom, like Elizabeth, had their powers dormant and lived normal lives under that roof. Until the place was finally inherited by her great-aunt, Tatiana, who was living in New Orleans, and Wanda would visit once the work on the mansion was finished.

She had no idea where you got the money for a whole restoration team, and you laughed when she asked, offering as an answer only the information that vampires can persuade people.

That's how you ended up on the living room floor, finishing gathering old belongings that needed to be protected from the paint restoration and set-up of that chamber.

"It's nice that some things have been preserved so well." She comments, stealing a quick glance at your figure distracted by sorting letters. You look good in this century's clothes that Wanda helped you pick out. The barely buttoned plaid shirt makes Wanda hold her breath every time she catches herself letting her gaze fall to your collarbone. 

"Rich families often treasure stuff." You retort with an easy smile. You stack a few letters before opening the next box of items and gasp slightly when you find something very valuable inside. "Look, I think you'll want to keep this."

The small item is placed in her palm: A gold button with an "M" engraved on it. The family crest. Wanda doesn't know why, but it makes her eyes water, and she gives you a tearful smile as she thanks you.

But despite this balanced relationship and pleasant routine, there was still the elephant in the room.

Every evening, you went out to feed yourself. For almost two months, Wanda didn't ask any questions. Even though she was dying to know exactly how, or even who.

But she didn't want to be invasive or even sound like someone obsessed with your fangs.

She would wait for some casual moment to bring up the subject. Perhaps at the next dinner party, with a joke, and then she would ask if you could show her how it was done.

Luckily for her, another witch was even more interested in the story.

Tatiana was an expert enchantress. She lived in an apartment in the heart of New Orleans and had a very busy pub, and to no surprise, frequented mainly by mystical beings. It was Wanda's first time in a place of that kind.

She was so excited to meet another member of her family that she almost forgot her last worries. It was her aunt, in between many colorful drinks after an afternoon of introduction, who brought up the subject again.

"So tell me, sweetie, all this work to restore the Maximoff household. It must be exhausting even for a vampire." Tatiana began with a smile. Her curly hair fell in waves down her back, and for the third time that night, Wanda noticed that green eyes were probably the only physical feature that most of the Maximoff women shared. Her aunt has a dangerous smirk on her lips as she looks in your direction, and Wanda swallows dryly as she realizes that it's the flirtatious kind. "We allow feeding in these parts."

You're taken aback. You chuckle awkwardly, aware of the two witches' attention in your direction. The crowded bar seems to get even smaller.

"I'm fine, Tatiana, don't worry." Wanda thinks you're lying. You can never maintain eye contact when you do, and she also often finds it charming how a vampire can be so bad at telling lies. "I had some blood before I got here-"

"By Morgana, that was several hours ago!" Tatiana cuts in, gesturing excitedly to the waiters. She was very happy to meet Wanda too and had been drinking since early morning in celebration. "You know, I used to date a vampire back in the last century. He had a restricted diet of animals and always looked pale and hungry. Are you one of those vegetarian vampires too?"

The question is rhetorical, she doesn't even hear your confused mutter "I don't think vegetarianism works like that". She's busy with the waitress, whose irises redden as soon as Tatiana speaks to her. The girl is younger than everyone else there and is clearly bewitched.

"There you go, dear, you can have a taste." Offers the woman, to which you choke in surprise.

"What? H-here? But..."

"Now, don't you act like a good Samaritan, Miss L/N." Tatiana retorts in a provocative tone, resting her chin on one hand. "I know what you got up to before you were imprisoned. Feeding off a waitress is nothing."

You're immediately crestfallen, your face flushing with shame. Wanda looks at her aunt with irritation.

"Don't talk to her like that." The younger witch says sternly. "'She's already received enough of a punishment.

Tatiana chuckles wickedly, tilting her head gently. A very familiar gesture indeed. "Let's get a few things clear, Wanda. The only reason I didn't rip that usurper vampire's head off the moment she set foot in my town was because she brought my niece back to me. The fighting separated our families, I never knew I had nephews. Do you think you would have joined that group of dressed-up Americans if I'd known you were a genuine Maximoff? No, dear, I would have raised you. Restored our coven, taught you magic, as it should have been. As it would have been if this ungrateful little blood-sucker had fulfilled the role she was given. Every spell has a price, and she didn't pay for this one she so boldly displayed for a decade of fortune-raising."

"I regret it very deeply, miss-"

"No, you don't apologize for any of this." Wanda interrupts you with a gentle squeeze on your wrist under the table. With a serious expression, she faces her aunt. "Let's actually get things straight, Auntie. You don't talk to her like that. Ever. You're not going to use something that happened three centuries ago against someone who has spent all this time imprisoned in a tomb, paying for crimes she didn't commit alone. It seems that witches, especially from this family, have a habit of evading accountability. I know that well." Tatiana gives a little smile, clearly aware of Westview, or what came after. Wanda doesn't hesitate. "She's my friend. And she's been through enough. All she's done since she came back is look after me, and I'm not going to accept this kind of treatment from anyone, not even my blood. And considering history, especially my blood."

Without contradicting, Tatiana nods in understanding, busying herself with lighting one of the cigarettes on the corner of the table. The colorful smoke wafted upwards as she finished a long drag.

"As you please, Scarlet Witch." The elder woman finally replies, and you swallow dryly, stealing a glance at Wanda to see if she might lose her temper at the slight challenge in her aunt's tone.

Damn, you'd forgotten how the Maximoffs had a rather dangerously weak ego to offend, especially if challenged.

But luckily for you, Wanda forced a smile, and the tension at the table eased. Tatiana dismissed the waiter with a nod and went back to talking about business in the city as if nothing had happened.

For the rest of the evening, Wanda drew patterns on the palm of your hand under the table.

-&-

Around midnight, when the desserts were finished but the bar seemed livelier than ever, you felt really hungry.

The witches were engaged in animated conversation about the times in Sokovia, how Tatiana missed the opportunity to find out about the Maximoffs after the surname grew more common around the country for a few years before disappearing again, and you used the opportunity to escape for a few moments.

A quick snack, just to satisfy your hunger. After all, you always kept yourself full around Wanda; you'd never forgive yourself if you lost control around her.

You make your way through the crowded bar, taking one last look at the back table before making your way to the exit. You're almost at the door when someone purposely bumps into you.

"Hey, better watch where you're going." Warned the corpulent fellow; he was at least ten centimeters taller and had a strong distinctive smell that caused you an instant anxiety. 

Wolf scent.

"Sorry, I didn't see you." You mumble, ready to bypass him, but he steps in your way again. 

"We don't like strangers around here." He informs you with a small smile, showing off his canine fangs. "You're lucky we have our orders, miss."

You sigh slightly. "Who are you again?"

"The name's Victor Creed, but everyone calls me Sabertooth. You know, because of these little beauties here." He points to his fangs with conviction. "They grow much bigger during the transformation. I once ripped the head of one of your kind with them." The story is clearly told to intimidate you, but your unimpressed expression makes the man clear his throat. "Don't go wandering around, Tatiana can't protect you on the outside."

You force a smile. "I can take care of myself, wolf, don't worry." You move around him to finally leave, but even with his back turned, Sabertooth laughs.

"Alright then, go for a walk while I introduce myself to your little witch. Do you know if the Scarlet Witch is looking for better watchdogs? If she's as stuck-up as the rest of the family, maybe I'll write to Kamar Taj about where she's been hiding."

The thing is, maybe you've spent too much time with the Maximoffs all your life. And your temper is just as bad as theirs.

Victor has barely finished his teasing, and you've already grabbed him by the arm, mashing him into the ground like a lump of flour. The commotion immediately attracts the attention of everyone around, but until the crowd fully identifies what's going on, Victor has already used his wolf-like speed to get to his feet and advance on you.

He's so confident about his own strength that it takes him a whole moment to realize that your fist has already gone through his chest.

"Give me one good reason not to spread your guts on this floor, Mr. Creed." You say with an unwavering expression, your hand clenched around his barely beating heart.

Victor chokes on his own blood, his muscular hands try to push your shoulders back, but you don't move an inch. He grunts in pain.

"I-I take it back." He gasps, but you squeeze a little harder.

"That's not a reason."

The man breaks down in a sob. "P-please. I'm begging you. I wasn't thinking-"

It would be so easy, just to kill him. Rip the heart out of that arrogant wolf and let him drop. You never forgot the feeling, the predatory hunger for blood and violence burning in your veins. Nor Elizabeth's disappointed look every time you ended up covered in blood and it didn't do any good.

Letting go of the heart, and pulling your hand out, you saw Victor's wound heal immediately. A full moon must have been just around the corner for a wolf to heal so quickly.

His release drew your attention to the rest of the pub. All those people, watching the scene with mixed expressions of horror and disbelief on their faces. Some clearly recognized you, others seemed surprised to witness a werewolf of that size being beaten so easily.

Vitor's blood stained the blouse Wanda gifted you, and you swallowed down the urge to vomit.

While you were trying to recover from the interaction, a duo cut through the crowd, and Tatiana's short giggle made you wince.

"Keep her in line, Wanda. We don't make a mess this close to humans in this neighborhood." The witch warns but Wanda is staring at you in complete mesmerization. You shake your wrist gently, letting the excess blood drip onto the floor before you start to move.

The adrenaline of the confrontation has starved you.

-&-

You barely enter the first alley before Wanda catches up with you.

"Where are you going?"

But you don't answer the question, you just keep walking and retort: "Go back inside, I won't be long."

For a moment, you think she'll obey, but how foolish of you. Wanda was probably the most stubborn Maximoff you've ever met.

She almost gives you a heart attack when she appears in your path, making you jump backward.

"What the hell...?"

"You're shutting me out." She declares, frustrated. You swallow dry, shaking your head.

"No, I'm just going for a walk to clear my head. See you at the apartment-"

"Taking a walk is what you're calling it now? I'm not an idiot, I know you're going to feed." Wanda interrupted annoyed, getting in your way and stopping you from fleeing. "Why do you keep trying to hide this part of yourself? I don't care that you're a vampire."

"Wanda, please, just move."

"No."

"Wanda."

She crosses her arms. "I wanna watch." 

You choke, chuckling nervously. "Excuse me?" 

But she doesn't lose her cool, nodding. "I want to watch you feed on someone."

Wanda imagined some reactions to the suggestion: anger, indignation, mockery. She didn't think you'd turn so clumsy, with rosy cheeks and unable to look her in the eye.

"You're a very odd individual." You mumble shyly, and she has to giggle confusedly, losing her serious pose to adjust the collar of your blouse. 

"Pleaseee." She stretches out the word, liking the way a smile breaks across your lips or especially the way you stare at her mouth when she talks like that. "I'll behave. I'll just stay put and watch. I've never seen it happen before. Please, honey? Just once."

You sigh in defeat, and Wanda taps her hands before jumping on your neck, and hugging you excitedly. It's a very difficult struggle to keep your fangs away with her so close.

It doesn't even last half a minute, but it feels like an eternity because you want to feed and everything always moves slower if the vampire focuses on hunger. 

"It's not going to be anything special, I don't want to cause a scene in your aunt's neighborhood." You let her know, thinking you need to talk a bit to push the dizziness away.

Wanda smiles excitedly. "Anything will be great, darling. Come on, I'll be right behind you."

It's easy to find prey in a place like New Orleans. You end up deciding on a restaurant waiter, isolated in one of the alleys. He's a young adult, distracted by chores, and you almost give up because of the smell of garbage so close by. But it's a very good isolated opportunity to waste like this.

Your fangs are already out when there's a noise behind you.

Wanda has bumped into something, loud enough to attract the boy's attention, who is startled by the two figures in the alley. One glimpse of your vampiric appearance and he's stumbling frightened away before starting to run.

You sigh incredulously, and Wanda appears in your field of vision.

"Sorry, it was..." She falls silent, surprised that you haven't gathered your usual looks and absorbing every detail of your face now. From the fangs to the completely darkened eye sclera. When she speaks, her voice is much huskier. "An accident."

"It's okay, it actually tastes better when they're scared." You shrug. "The adrenaline and fear accelerates the heart which pumps fresh blood throughout the body. That's why so many vampires prefer to hunt at night. People are more afraid of the dark than they think."

Wanda chuckles, looking at you in a way that makes you forget about the boy's footsteps becoming too distant to distinguish from the other sounds of the city.

"You're kind of a vampire nerd." 

"I don't know what that word means." You give a confused laugh and Wanda moves closer.

"It means I think you're really cute." She retorts, making you gulp dryly. Her hands find your shoulders, and Wanda gets close enough for you to count her freckles. "And I'm dying to know how these little ones feel, darling. Do they hurt?”

She's too close for you to focus, but you make an effort. "Hm, just a little, when they come out. They usually only bother me when I'm really hungry."

Wanda's fists cross together behind your head, and she's definitely too close for you to think about anything other than her.

"And how hungry are you now?"

"Very, Miss Maximoff." You confess hoarsely. Wanda smiles mischievously, tilting her neck in your direction.

"Well, I think you should have a little taste."

"God, Wanda." Your eyes close on instinct, your face falling forward so that you sink into the gap in her collarbone. Wanda shudders, as affected as you are. Her hands-free themselves so that she can stroke your arm, as a reassurance that everything is all right, and also caress your hair because apparently everything so far hasn't been maddening enough for her.

Every cell of your spirit begs you to sink your fangs into the warm skin in front of you, to drink every drop until Wanda faints against you, but you fight nature itself with her help. Her soft sighs in your ear, assuring you that she trusts you.

"It'll only be a little bit, I promise." You assure her, licking the spot gently and drawing a deep sigh from the other girl. It's the sound you focus on before you take the first bite.

Wanda tenses at the slightest hint of pain, but another sensation takes over elsewhere. Her cheeks burn with the betrayal of her own body, and she finds herself unable to care about the mild pain while she's throbbing between her legs.

Her nails dig into your biceps, and she starts to squirm under you, surrendering to the sensation of your bodies so close together. You hum in satisfaction at the soothing of your hunger, and Wanda drops her hand to your waist.

"Enough, baby." She whispers the request, her nails scratching the hair on the back of your neck. "I'm starting to get dizzy."

You hold on a little tighter, and Wanda softens against your body. Her heart is pounding, and she is aware of her pathetic underwear situation. Your body heaved forward, and Wanda didn't have the strength to resist any pull. She feels her back hit the wall of the alley, and whimpers at the feel of your leg pressed between hers.

She doesn't think she has ever been so at someone's mercy as she is now. She just wants to tell you to help her relieve the pressure between her legs, but every time she tries to call you, what leaves her lips are needy moans.

And you kept feeding and the surroundings began to darken. Wanda only realized that she'd been grinding herself on your thigh all this time because her climax approached at high speed, and falling off the edge brought a momentary recovery of consciousness.

"Oh, God, detka!" She meows, spilling herself on your thigh. Her body spasms softly, and you tense up, stopping your feeding immediately. Wanda falls limp in your arms, trying to fuck herself stupidly even after the orgasm she's just achieved. Your arms are the only support keeping her upright. "Do that again."

You shake your head, pushing her sweaty hair out of her face. "No, I took more than I should have." You retort softly, and Wanda has to blink a few times to realize that your appearance has returned to normal. "What a terrible idea that was, Wanda. So dangerous… I was starving."

She gives you a dreamy little smile. "How do I taste?"

"The best I've ever had." You assure her before adjusting her to hold her in your arms just in time for Wanda to lose consciousness.

She dreams of the same feeling of being carried but in a place much colder than New Orleans.

-&-

She wakes up just in time to see you putting her to bed, all the way to the borrowed room in her aunt's empty apartment.

Wanda grabs your wrist before you can pull away after putting the covers over her.

"Hey." Your voice and gaze are so sweet that she almost forgets everything that has happened so far. But Wanda actually remembers very well, and the lingering sensation of your body against hers makes her shiver. 

"Hey... sorry for blacking out on you." She murmurs, her free hand coming up to your face. You bite your lip, still hovering over her body and uncertain what you should do next. Should you pull away? Lean in and kiss Wanda like you've been dreaming of doing for weeks? She seems to be able to see all the hesitation in your eyes, and offers a reassuring smile, her hand caressing your cheek. "What's wrong?"

Wanda is definitely teasing you, but you don't mind, smiling too as you steady your hands next to her body on the mattress, face to face, the two of you waiting for the other to make a move first until the tension is almost unbearable. But you also remember what brought you there, and let out a small sigh.

"You shouldn't have baited me like that, Wanda. It's dangerous, I could have... lost control."

Her expression becomes almost mischievous, a smile threatening to break out on her lips. "I've survived much worse, darling."

You sigh in frustration. "Wanda..."

"It's the truth." She chuckles even though you move away to sit down properly. Wanda also mimics the gesture, looking for your hand on the bed so that you stop grimacing and look at her. "Hey, come on, don't be upset."

"I'm not."

"Then why the pout?" She leans in, kissing your cheek and you snort away, unable to stay angry with this adorably charming witch. "You have to trust me, sweetheart." She whispers, kissing your jaw. You sigh, squeezing her hand gently.

"I trust you with my life, Wanda." You let her know in the same tone, intertwining your fingers in her lap. Wanda smiles against your skin, chaste kisses trailing from your jaw to your collarbone. "I'm just scared... that one day, I'll lose control and hurt you. I'd never forgive myself."

She pulls away a little to look you in the eye. "I meant it what I said before." Starts the witch. "I've been through much worse. You weren't there to see... what I did to reach that little girl. You don't have to worry about hurting me, because it doesn't matter, I'll always heal." With your hesitation, she pulls further away to push the collar of her shirt aside and let you see the place where you fed on her a few minutes ago. "Look, it's gone. You have to trust me, darling. I know that the idea of anyone being stronger than an original is hard for you to accept, but believe me, I'll be fine. I'll always be fine, even if you are starving and out of your mind."

You grimace, adjusting yourself so that you can hold her by the waist and place her on your lap. "Just because you're going to heal doesn't mean I can hurt you. You deserve kindness, Wanda. I can give you my best." Your mouth meets hers, it's not a hungry kiss but it's a hot one and it takes Wanda out of her orbit. It's been a while since the last time, and well, it's never really been like this. She struggles a little to find her rhythm, for a short moment just panting against your experienced tongue, until she finally responds in an equally passionate way that makes you sigh and press your body to hers. 

Wanda likes the sound. Wanda likes you.

"Can I take off your shirt?" Your request comes between one kiss and another, she hardly answers because her mind is clouded with arousal, and if she could be honest, she would have been out of her clothes a long time ago. 

"Yes, please." She gasps back, anxious hands tracing your back. Wanda is restless under your touch, shy about your gaze once the clothes come off. But you do everything with an unbearable slowness that leaves her squeezing her thighs together in search of relief. 

She had sex before - For the first time in a war-torn adolescence, an experience that was forgettable and almost regretted. And then with a machine man who could pretend but never had the biological need to do so. 

This moment right now was like no other, being with someone who worshipped her body, who was as breathless as she was, who reacted to her touch and was practically at her mercy when she touched the right spot.

And Wanda finds that she loves it. Having you touch her and touch you back, and feeling your fangs scratch her skin every time she thrusts her hips into yours.

Pinned against the bed, naked as you are, your legs entwined together like your bodies. Sighs of pleasure mingle with the dance of your hips, and Wanda digs her nails into your back as your fangs press into her collarbone. 

You drink less than last time, but her legs still tingle. Or maybe it's the orgasm hitting her hard.

This is different from the first - the whole bed vibrates with the wave of magic that escapes the witch with her back arched. You hold Wanda, even though you're also shaking with the force of your own climax. She initiates the next kiss this time, moaning into your tongue as she spins your bodies around with ease. Your hands entwine together at the top of your head, but Wanda lets go, lowering herself and getting a confused sigh from you.

"What are you up to, little witch?"

Then it occurs to her with your expression that you are four centuries old and have spent much of this time as a prisoner and that perhaps you haven't been so confident because Wanda is your first lover.

She looks back up, sitting on your hips, breathing out of rhythm but now with a new excitement shining in her eyes.

"Babe, be honest... have you ever been with a woman before?"

Your face gains a deep color, and you turn your gaze away. Wanda falls hard, even if it doesn't occur to her yet.

She giggles softly and you're even more embarrassed, but she doesn't let you move away, her firm legs holding you in place.

"Don't make fun of me." You mutter, and Wanda snorts softly.

"Never." She assures you, even though she already has a new dozen antics memorized. Her mouth kisses your jaw and goes down like her body. The color in your cheeks is for another reason soon. "I love being your first. I want to make you feel good."

You hesitate to hold her when she's stimulating you, worried about losing control of your own strength. The sheets are destroyed when Wanda flicks her tongue over your breasts, smiling with delight at the sight of you squirming.

She goes lower and you gasp for air. "What... are you doing?" You ask mortified. It's not the 1700s anymore, you have to remember. Female pleasure is, well, taken into account. Wanda bites the inside of your thighs, watching the muscles twitch for a moment.

"You'll love it, I promise." It's the only thing she says before diving in, her hot mouth pulling all the air from your lungs. It's the most wonderful thing you've ever felt. Wanda's tongue works on your most intimate part, teasing your entrance before she starts to eat you out hungrily. You grip the headboard, your eyes closed tightly. Wanda holds your legs open, and the knot in your stomach starts to become impossible to contain. 

The witch seems to like it too. She moans for your taste on her tongue, and the new vibration pushes you over the edge. Wanda holds your spasming body without difficulty, you think she uses magic for that. And still calming down, it takes you a whole moment to stop seeing stars.

Wanda licks up every drop of your pleasure, moaning softly before meeting your gaze again. You can't hold it, and end up covering your reddened face with your arm while ignoring the smug giggle of the witch who begins to climb your body again.

"Don't be shy... you look so pretty when you moan my name." She praises you provocatively, and you can't help but smile, feeling completely relaxed. Wanda waits for you to look at her again, her arms resting on your shoulder so that she can look at you closely. "Hi."

Your hand finds her cheek. " Hi, yourself." She leans into your touch, her smile filling your chest with warm happiness. Wanda sighs.

"Can we stay like this? Just for a moment." She asks quietly, and something in her gaze tells her that the question isn't just for today. Wanda wants to know if you can be with her.

You would. Forever if she wished. "Of course, little witch. For as long as you want."

[jesmalestiel]

Shakespeare's Sonnets are SO aziracrow coded istg

Okay so last night I was doing a bit of bedtime reading and I picked up my book of Shakespeare sonnets because they are comfy and familiar and omg some of them are so aziracrow coded???

I posted about it on Reddit and @kotias pointed out that almost all of the sonnets are aziracrow coded and she head canons that Shakespeare fell in love with the two of them and his sonnets are about the two of them. And she is so right??? Like the idea of Aziraphale as the fair youth and Crowley as the Dark Lady just fits???

But also I love the idea of the sonnets being things that Aziraphale or Crowley might have written to each other.

The two that really stuck out to me as I was reading are sonnet 36 and sonnet 142. Sonnet 36 is all about how the two lovers need to break up because being together will cause public shame and it is forbidden for them to openly be together. So I really picture that as being something Crowley has written in order that Aziraphale would not be exposed as loving a demon and forced out of Heaven into hell. By the time we get to the modern day Crowley is much more of the mind that they should just run off together, but I think it definitely took her a long time to get to that point and in an earlier era she would have just wanted Aziraphale protected.

Let me confess that we two must be twain Although our undivided loves are one; So shall those blots that do with me remain, Without thy help, by me be borne alone. In our two loves there is but one respect, Though in our lives a separable spite, Which though it alter not love’s sole effect, Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love’s delight. I may not evermore acknowledge thee, Lest my bewailèd guilt should do thee shame, Nor thou with public kindness honor me Unless thou take that honor from thy name. But do not so. I love thee in such sort   As, thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

And then sonnet 142 I just picture it as Aziraphale being like “loving you is a sin and I hate myself for it but I can’t stop” like.... it's giving “you’re unworthy of my love and I don’t care for the company you keep but I love you anyway and your sins make me love you more" and I just ahhhh. It just fits *so well* in my brain.

Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate, Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving. O, but with mine compare thou thine own state, And thou shalt find it merits not reproving; Or if it do, not from those lips of thine, That have profaned their scarlet ornaments And sealed false bonds of love as oft as mine, Robbed others’ beds’ revenues of their rents. Be it lawful I love thee as thou lov’st those Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee: Root pity in thy heart, that, when it grows, Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.     If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,     By self-example mayst thou be denied.

[stellar-constellations]

Fandom Masterlist

Characters and Fandoms I write for! Please be aware that I haven't fully watched or read all of these animes/mangas, so if there's any characters OOC, I'm sorry.

Please be patient as I write! Masterlist will be updated when needed.

All characters will be aged up in my stories unless specifically said!

I have all rights to deny a request. I only write for characters I enjoy.

NO SMUT/NSFW OR ANGST! (I'm a sensitive person).

REQUEST BOX IS CURRENTLY OPEN!

Demon Slayer

Tanjirou Kamado

Tokito Muichiro

Akaza

Aizetsu

Kokushibo

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Kyojuro Rengoku

Obanai Iguro

Muzan Kibutsuji

Gyutaro Shabana

Daki Shabana

Douma

Shinobu Kocho

Mitsuri Kanroji

Chainsaw Man

Denji (Hayakawa)

Asa Mitaka

Yoru

Yoshida Hirofumi

Angel Devil

Beam

Makima

Power

Seven Deadly Sins (only season 4 and less, rest of the seasons and movies sucked so I stopped watching).

King

Diane

King Arthur

The Disastrous Life of Saiki K

Kusuo Saiki

Toritsuka Reita

Kusuke Saiki

Shun Kaido

No Game No Life!

Sora

Danganronpa

Rantaro Amami

Kazuchi Soda

Five Nights At Freddy's: Security Breach

Monty

Sundrop/Moondrop (together and separate)

Gregory

Glamrock Freddy

Roxy

Glamrock Chica

Spy x Family

Yuri Briar (When requesting, please ask if you want my Alliance Series Yuri, or the canon-typical Spy x Family plot Yuri since both of them act differently to the reader)

Pretty Boy Detective Club

Michiru Fukuroi

Sousaku Yubiwa

Assassination Classroom

Nagisa Shiota

Karma Akabane

Itona Horibe

The Coffin of Andy and Leyley:

Andrew "Andy" Graves [If you're requesting Andrew, please specific what Andrew Graves you want (Ex. Burial route, Star Patient series Andrew, etc].

Snow White with the Red Hair

Obi

Zen Wisteria

Shirayuki

Ryuu

Fairy Tail: 

Natsu Dragneel

Loki/Leo

Sting Eucliffe

Juvia Lockster

Erza Scarlet

Lucy Heartfilla

Requests are needed and appreciated as long as it's SFW and no angst!

Please check my rules before requesting!

REQUESTS WILL BE WORKED ON AND UPLOADED AT ANY TIME, INCLUDING FROM DAYS TO WEEKS (I have a life outside writing and I will not jeopardize my mental health for writing I don't get paid for).

[themculibrary]

Long Wandavision Fics Masterlist

An Auspice of Scarlet (ao3) - AnontheNullifier wanda/vision, background pepper/tony T, 143k

Summary: After another failed seance, Wanda Maximoff finds herself seeking asylum from an unknown millionaire and his reserved, but kind butler. As with most things in her life, it's when the semblance of normalcy and contentment begin to form that her past comes crashing in to upend everything she's worked hard to create. Will the blossom of love be enough to vanquish the demons of her past?

Creep (ao3) - proud_papaya M, 68k

Summary: "... there's so many of them." Wanda exhaled, looking out at the sea of people, but they weren't people. Their skin was the color of the earth and their irises looked like sewage water. There was gore smeared across some of them and their clothing was in tatters. And for a moment, just a moment, she thought she saw Cap's uniform covering one of them. Because they were the only ones left. Wanda and Vision. Surviving the end of the world... but no one thought the end of the world would look like this.

"Stay close to me."

"Always."

Flaneur (ao3) - Cyan_Rain wanda/vision, background darcy/jimmy T, 70k

Summary: Post-WandaVision Series Finale

He was Vision. He was a sentient weapon. He'd tried to kill the woman he loved.

She was the Scarlet Witch. She was cursed to destroy the world. She'd killed the man she loved. Twice.

They have some things to work out.

Give Me My Sin Again (ao3) - thelilacfield E, 121k

Summary: 'You know, it's too bad that you work for the organisation I want to see brought down in flames.'

'And why is that, Ms. Maximoff?'

'Red always was my favourite colour.'

A woman looking for something to make her feel human again. A man who never felt human seeking to keep his powerful position. Finding each other and finding that they have hearts capable of feeling.

i don't need anything other than you (ao3) - ghoultown T, 51k

Summary: “Come, step into the light.” Vision pulls her close, into the yellow light, holding her hands in his. “Tell me. Do I look the same to you today?”

She makes a face, “Of course you do.”

“No, please. Please, look closer.” He bends down slightly to assist in her search. “I’ve been looking in the mirror for ten minutes. There’s something here. Something extra or something missing, I cannot tell, but i-it’s something.”

Wanda’s disposition changes. “Vis, you sound… panicked.”

“Hm?” Vision blinks. “I can’t panic.”

_

Vision wakes up one morning to find his memories gone. He figures there must be a logical explanation. Until there can't be.

In the Absence of a Way of Life (ao3) - wisteriafic M, 66k

Summary: "The only thing preventing him from phasing through the walls and escaping this morass is the admonition with which Secretary Ross had left him two days ago: If you try anything, she dies. They all die."

After the airport fight in Civil War, Vision is arrested and sent to the Raft, along with the others. Once they've escaped, Wanda has company as she adjusts to a life on the run.

Late in the Day (ao3) - wisteriafic E, 59k

Summary: After the fall of Novi Grad, Wanda chooses to remain there to rebuild her homeland instead of becoming an Avenger. Over the years, she and Vision build separate lives for themselves, but they establish a long-distance friendship. As the tenth anniversary approaches, they get together for drinks, and they reconnect.

(Love's got the) World in Motion (ao3) - olsenbcttany E, 60k

Summary: Wanda Maximoff is the sister of the world famous Pietro Maximoff, goalkeeper who is set to see Sokovia win The UEFA European Football Championship. Victor Shade is the England player who ruined their chances. When the two meet, sparks fly.

Non-Volatile Memory (ao3) - patches365 M, 292k

Summary: Vision has been restored physically and mentally, but not emotionally. SWORD's tampering has left him nothing but a sentient computer with no personal attachment to the data stored within him. Wishing to make himself whole again, he seeks out Wakanda's premier scientist to help him emotionally reconnect with his memories, and thus with Wanda.

Nothing is Impossible (ao3) - Boopoopeedoo T, 62k

Summary: Two lives that were feared, and a love no one expected, lead to a miracle nobody ever thought possible. When Wanda made a home in the Avengers compound, she never could have imagined how much her world would change, or that The Vision would become the centre of it. She expected to fall in love with him even less.

The two find a way back to each other after the chaos of the Avenger's civil war. It is then that their love truly builds, and where they eventually create their miracle.

ScarletVision, eventual Infinity War fix-it

playing nice (ao3) - ghoultown E, 214k

Summary: “What’s your name?” she asks.

He opens the door wider in reply.

Wanda doesn’t move.

The man bends to root through a cupboard instead.

“I don’t have anything in,” he reaches into the shelves, half of him disappearing inside, “Not much to offer you in the way of hospitality.”

“Yeah,” she studies him, rubbing her fingers together. “Ghosts don’t drink, do they.”

A bottle of cheap liquor. He tosses it a bit in his hand, turning it, inspecting it, grinning at the label.

“Think I’m a ghost, do you?”

-

Following a sudden appearance of a strange red power, Wanda begins killing men to take the edge off. Her first kill in London doesn't go as she'd hoped.

Recordkeeping (ao3) - chaostragic E, 53k

Summary: Wanda has a lot of secrets.

Among them: Wanda was a spy once. Sort of. Also: Wanda is a widow and a murderer and legally not allowed to leave New Jersey.

When a one night stand lasts a few months too long, Wanda must confront her past. Can love overcome government conspiracy, criminal records, and unresolved trauma?

Run Away (ao3) - proud_papaya wanda/vision, bucky/natasha M, 71k

Summary: She was running away. Again. This time to another city, the biggest city in the world. Little did she know her next door neighbor would happen to change her life.

Synthesis (ao3) - psychologymajor226 N/R, 296k

Summary: This is a Wanda/Vision fic that alternates from the events in Wandavision to a lead-up of all past events until Infinity War, exclusively from Vision’s POV.

Take Me Away (ao3) - heartAttackoFtheMinD T, 146k

Summary: What events happened in between A.O.U and C.W that drove Wanda and Vision to try their luck as a couple after the Raft? Series of events growing their relationship, getting past the loss of a loved one, and discovering humanity with Wanda and Vision as they fall in love at the Avengers Compound.

The Age of Miracles (ao3) - thelilacfield T, 68k

Summary: "What is taking so long, Peterson? Get those prisoners to their cells now!"

"It's the witch, sir."

"Well, slap a pair of handcuffs on her and get her to her cell now!"

"We can't, sir, she's-"

"She's what? Wrecked the medical bay? Injured someone? That's what we got the collar for!"

"Sir, she's pregnant."

The Red Menace (ao3) - JustAnotherMarvelGirl M, 75k

Summary: Wanda is a fierce and ruthless Captain of the Scarlet Witch, the most feared ship in the Caribbean.

Vision is a Commodore of the British Royal Navy who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

When their two ships clash, will Vision live to see the light of another day?

Under Renovation (ao3) - gamerfic M, 60k

Summary: "It isn't safe for you to be here," says Vision, and he doesn't only mean the huge hole in the floor that yawns between them.

"I know that, too."

"Then why did you come back?"

Wanda hasn't turned her gaze from him since she entered the room. Behind it there's an echo of the same relentless, crushing pressure he felt that night she filled him with her power and brought him to his knees. He's not safe here either, in his way. "I came back for you," she says.

(Or: Vision and Wanda fix a building, fix their mistakes, and slowly fall in love.)

Wanda Enchanted (ao3) - percyjacksonfan9261 wanda/vision, steve/natasha G, 52k

Summary: When Wanda was a baby, her fairy godmother, Agatha, decided to give her the so called "gift" of obedience. By the time that Wanda becomes a teenager, sick of her step family bullying her, she decides to go on a quest to find out where she can find her fairy godmother and convince her to remove to "gift". Joining Wanda is one of her few friends, an elf who wants to be an inventor in a world that doesn't allow it, and a prince who's uncle just so happens to be plotting to kill him for a bid to take over the throne. When Wanda slowly starts falling for the prince and uncovers the plot of his assassination, she has to figure out what's more important in her life: following her heart or getting rid of her obedience once and for all.

Your Castle of Memories (ao3) - starlithumanity T, 112k

Summary: After the events of Age of Ultron, Wanda Maximoff faces the pain of her loss, and Vision tries to comprehend the intricacies of existence. They find comfort and a great deal of fascination in each other, as the new expanded Avengers team learns to work together. But they are about to face the greatest challenge to their friendship: the arrival of Civil War.

[blacklem0ns]

itgr s4

sorry i literally have NO idea what to call this post without the title being hella long, but basically this is a about things i’m looking forward to seeing and what i’d like to be expanded upon. hope you enjoy! and feel free to reblog with things you want to see yourself.

ashe’s backstory

i’m using backstory broadly but when i say that i don’t just mean when he was live. i’d also like to see some of his first moments as a reaper. and this leads me to me next point

wrynn

i want to know what ashe’s relationship with wrynn was like up until he ate her demon. assuming that they HAD a relationship of course (i doubt he just went up to her one day and was like “welp, i’m gonna eat your demon now!”). not to mention, the implications of him carrying around her corpse (still not sure if that’s the case though). i also just wanna know more about wrynn in general. what was her life like as a human? what was her sin? was she’s always this crazy or was it her time as a reaper that made her that way? what were her beliefs and goals? did she willingly let ashe take her demon or did she fight back? i hope we learn more. remember, the real wrynn is in hell living out her sentence. the “wrynn” we see interacting with ashe is her demon who essentially became another version of her bc of how in tune she was with it. maybe the group will meet her as they’re traversing the levels of hell.

nyra and bernadette flashbacks

in s4, we learn from nyra that two’s relationship wasn’t always has honstile as we see it in the series. they used to be friends, even created a secret handshake to confuse azrael. i just wanna see some moments from their times as friends and what events took place to sour their friendship into what it was when we meet them for the first time.

archreaper interactions

pretty self explanatory. they all hate each other (according to nine) despite their shared goal of wanting to make scarlet suffer and i wanna see that animosity :D

brook and scarlet/sanctuary flashbacks

chase said the sanctuary would take time to build before brook and scarlet could live in it. i want to know if they immediately decided to use the sanctuary as a residual space for survivors or did they spend some time just processing everything that happened with the shattering and ashe being defeated.

scarlet breakdown

ok ik this sounds weird but hear me out. i feel like scarlet hasn’t had a good cry since like s2 when chase got stabbed. it’s clear that scarlet’s been holding everything in since chase’s death and the shattering and i think it’s only a matter of time until she can’t keep it in anymore. i just want her to let out everything cause she can only ignore her feeling for so long.

brook and chase flashbacks

again, pretty self explanatory. brook and chase’s relationship is lacking in a lot of areas and i want to see more moments between just them.

[heartpawp]

sin triangle - II

read it on ao3 here

You, in fact, do not have the pretties.

Upon checking your tattered pockets, the jewels have unmistakably fallen out. You really, really do need a bag for this kind of thing. You’re hoping it was just taken by Alastor, but upon further thought (Of which you do not often do), it feels gross to know the radio host can even do that without you batting an eye.

You’re being forced into redemption via theft debt. This day is just spectacular, especially in the way you’re pretty sure every bright light is indenting itself into your corneas. On the other hand.. They have locked the robber in with the money.

As soon as you finish pretending to know what the fuck is going on, you’re going to shoot up and sprint out of the lobby to scrounge the area. If you’re lucky, the hotel will get blown up, and a couple of those signs will fall off with it! Then you can– you can–

You’re plucked by the scruff of your neck by those nasty, thin claws before you know it. “Now, now,” Alastor croons, waiting for a response. Or anything. Literally anything at all, but you’re stunned in place with dilated eyes like a doe in front of blinding headlights.

“Oh, well, ah,” He only smiles wider, shrugging his shoulders and dropping you on the hardwood floor. “Run along now! I will.. arrange something for you to assist me with later.” With that, you run for the hills.

Your sputtering wings don’t do much for running (Much less your flying abilities you pretend to have), but you flap them anyway, sweeping the floorboards. Everyone is definitely staring, but you stopped caring as soon as that demon let you go.

Climbing up the stairs, you reach what feels to be an endless hall of doors. This is… really just not what you need right now at all . Well, the early bird gets the worm! Or, jewels and pretties and such!

You huff and puff, pulling on each handle to find an unlocked door, until finally you reach a hotel room covered in pink . Suuure, there’s insinuations around, but it’s probably just their guilty pleasure!

Back when you were alive, plenty of people roamed around with their dirty secrets on display! Not that most noticed, but you were pretty observant in the way people gave you those nasty looks– Guilty, indeed!

You could always tell on these kinds of things, ha! You’re so smart..

A few things in the room instinctively made your feathers puff out, but for the most part you found lots of new pretties! There was even a pretty pink hog covered in spots– he was so sweet!

Tossing the pig in your satchel, you jump up and sprint to the next room, peeking through the cracks of light in the doorframe. You spot a scarlet loveseat and a crackling fireplace, still blazing despite the absence of a keeper.

The second you step into the room, you're overwhelmed by the damp scent of a bayou. What in the everloving..

Before you can think on it further, a neon green light fills the room and you spin around to meet Alastor standing before you.

His expression is tense, but within a moment’s glance, he’s back to his usual self! Wow, he's really good at staying positive in these trying times!

The radio demon leans over you menacingly, and you swallow the frog in your throat, looking up at him with a guilty stare.

An amulet slips out of your bag, glittering with a loud clank to the floor.

Oh.

[ravensvirginity]

I won't lie, even as an atheist i am always completely confused by antisemitism in superhero fandoms. We most definetly wouldn't have modern superhero media without jewish men, while they were not perfect (it was the 40s-60s afterall, alot of stuff related to women and characters of color didn't age greatly), these days they make so much of modern pop-culture...it'd propably help if the movies (mainly Marvel) would stop ignoring characters jewish identity (Fantastic Four and X-men movies by Fox), toning them down as much as possible (Moon Knight) or christian-washing them (Scarlet Witch).

yeah, Jewish men literally made the comic book industry but of course their legacy hasn't really been honored. Modern comics in general are so soulless and any Jewish rep is there just to tick a box, at least in my opinion. Like in the Teen Titans Christmas special this year when they had a shot of the Tower decked out in Christmas decorations and then they had 2 tiny Hanukkah banners there just for no reason. Like why are they there?? As far as the comic presents, none of the Titans are Jewish, and the decorations didn't feel like a real Hanukkah decoration at all. It was just a diversity tick with no thought put into it.

I definitely agree that I wish comics would stop ignoring Jewish identity, and it would be great if there were just more Jewish characters in general. And if they do a Hanukkah special or whatever it would be awesome if they hired someone Jewish to write it.

Raven I think is an interesting example of comics being created by Jews - Marv Wolfman is Jewish, and though Raven is primarily Indian coded (mostly in an 80s cultural appropriation way, but I digress) she's also got some things about her that feel Jewish. Arella is an unconventional spelling of a Jewish name (Erela) and Rachel Roth (tho Wolfman isn't the one who gave her that name) is incredibly Jewish.

In the 80s comics Wolfman wrote, Arella's religion before coming to Azarath is unclear. Her birth name isn't Arella, but we don't know what it is beyond that. Raven is a character with a very strong conviction in her fictional, but very non Christian religion. In a way, she's both an antichrist and a Christ allegory (she dies for Trigon's sins, and is resurrected purified of evil to destroy him). She's just a mix of so many different things, and while I do think some of it could be more ironed out (like making her actually Indian instead of a white woman who's very clearly been inspired by Indian culture) I think for the most part these elements work together.

20 years later, Raven gets a reboot, and much of this is gone. Arella's birth name is Angela, and it's now canon that she joined a demonic cult to escape her Christian family. Raven still has a connection to Azarath, but this gets less and less prominent and in the current run, it's completely gone.

I think that even though the cult of Azar is not a real religion, so it's not like anyone was being represented by it, it's very frustrating that they got rid of it in favor of making Raven vaguely culturally Christian (and even outright Christian in the 2018 live action show). Christian homogeny comes for literally everything, even this comic book character's fictional religion that was once a central part of her character.

The weirdest part is Marv Wolfman's modern Raven solos only further reinforce her new Christian backstory, having her stay with her very Christian aunt's family and even having a storyline about pushing her to go to Mass on Christmas, despite him being Jewish himself. It's unclear how much of this was his own writing choices and how much was an editorial mandate, but it's weird.

This got kind of rambley but my main point is modern DC flattens out it's characters to insane degrees, and that includes things like unique religious practices, fictional and real. Everyone is just vaguely culturally Christian with no further thought given to what makes sense for the character, and any religious diversity (in the comics I have read) is almost entirely there just to tick a box with no real thought or depth put in.

[comicwaren]

From Demon Days: Scarlet Sin #001, “Into the Spirit World: Part Four”

Art by Peach Momoko

Written by Peach Momoko and Zack Davisson

[honeybellexox]

Chapter 4

Important TW - this chapter contains strong self harm ideation.

Fear had settled into Khushi’s chest as she bolted from the room. An angry heat flushed through her body, coloring her golden skin a bright scarlet hue.

Khushi chewed the inside of her cheek as she sluggishly made her way back to the kitchen, mentally cursing herself for losing her composure. He just had a way of getting under her skin.

Khushi spent the rest of the afternoon doing odd chores around the home in an effort to avoid him. For the most part, she had been successful.

However, she had caught glimpses of him, here and there. Every time she had seen him she had felt her breath hitch, worrying that he would finally come over and chastise her for the events of this morning. He didn’t.

In fact, Arnav had maintained a polite distance towards her. It was different. Not quite like how he had ignored her previously, which had been icy and harsh. This felt considerably more respectful, kinder even.

The few times they had come across each other, he had held her gaze. There was a softness there that hadn’t existed before. A pensiveness. Not a single word had left his mouth yet his eyes spoke a thousand. Each second had felt like an eternity and each time, the moment would be broken by a curt nod from him before he carried on with his day, leaving a Khushi in a state of deep wonderment.

Khushi found herself in the kitchen, as she began to prepare the evening tea for family. A task that she delighted in.

She murmurs a little thank you to Devi Maiya under her breath, for the simple reason that Arnav had not yet confronted her for the events of the morning. The flicker of relief quickly became apprehension, it was difficult to let her guard down as she had become intimately aware of Arnav’s volcanic temperament and she didn’t quite trust what the night would bring.

Night.

Khushi froze at the thought, her hand retracted from the teapot handle as her eyes dart towards the kitchen wall clock. 6.30pm. A few hours before nightfall.

Khushi’s mouth begins to dry up.

During the period of Arnav’s departure, Khushi’s fear of the dark had manifested into a fear of the night. The culprit behind this change was non other than Shyam.

Shyam.

Khushi bitterly cursed the man in her mind, his vile actions had exceeded what she thought he was capable off. He had taken full advantage of her husband’s absence.

His regular leering and jeering had turned into frequent visits to her bedroom, unannounced and at random hour and then defiling her husband’s shower. As he had slowly taken claim of her marital bedroom, he also advanced upon Khushi. As if she was another possession in the room. He had become alarmingly comfortable touching her and invading her personal space.

A frightened Khushi had let it slide a couple of times, verbally shutting him down until he had insinuated going a step further, she had finally snapped.

She struck him, hard.

Khushi felt a sense of sickness bubble within her as she examined the now faint sallow fingerprints that marked her wrist. The mark felt sinful.

Shyam had furiously yanked her wrist and twisted after she had raised her hand at him, she could still remember how his face had contorted into something that could only be described as demonic. Ugly, rageful and twisted, his spindly fingers had clutched her wrist so tightly she had feared it would break.

His dark promise was still etched in her mind.

“Don’t misunderstand my love for weakness, Khushiji. I have been far too lenient with you, next time I won’t be so kind next time.’’ She had winced as he gave her wrist a harsh twist “Understood?”

Now, Khushi was left with an ugly bruise on her wrist as a reminder, lest she forget. The more she stared at it the more her repulsion grew and so did the desire to rip it or burn it off.

Burn it …

Her eyes flit to the delicate floral teapot that sat prettily on the tray, almost mockingly.

The hot steam that oozed out from the teapot, tantalized her. Her hands reach out to it …what if -

“Khushi bitiya! Come quickly! Look what chote brought back!” Nani called out from the main hall.

Khushi blinked, as horror and shame overcame her. She quickly placed the teacups on the tray and made her way to where the family had gathered around.

The entire Raizada clan had gathered around the main hall, eagerly awaiting their presents that Arnav had brought back from his trip.

He had gotten something for everyone, everyone except Shyam.

Arnav had looked around his bag briefly, and then pointedly announced that he had no idea where Shyam’s present had disappeared. Khushi secretly felt a sense of giddiness, this must be one of Devi Maiya’s punishments!

Anjali shoots Shyam a disheartened look, but Shyam was quick to placate her, saying the best present was to have his Saale-Saab back, alive and well.

Arnav narrowed his eyes at Shyam. There was an angry buzz of energy in the air. Stifling and uncomfortable.

‘‘Don’t worry, Jijaji, I’ll make sure you get your present.” Arnav promised through gritted teeth. Khushi couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, she felt unease at the tone of voice. Was she imagining this tension or had it always existed?

Khushi discreetly takes in all the faces around the room, the Raizada’s were all merry and smiling, seemingly oblivious to the exchange between the two men. Were they blind or was it Khushi? The last face Khushi fell on was her sister, Payal’s.

Payal returned the look, she had noticed it too. An unspoken question lingered before the two for a brief moment.

Anjali breaks the tension.

‘‘Chote, you forgot someone else!” Her voice was full of mirth and sounded like twinkling bell chimes.

Arnav raises an eyebrow at his sister, a quizzical look in hie eyes. Anjali offers him nothing but a cheeky grin.

Nani sighs, shaking her head in amusement.

‘‘Chote, you forgot your wife!’’

‘‘I didn’t forget, Nani, Khushi will be receiving her present in private’’ Arnav replies, his gaze was solely on Khushi now, who had started to redden. Anjali playfully nudges her, finding delight in her brother’s rather bold declaration.

Shyam, however, had tightly clenched his fists.

Khushi doubted he was being honest about a present, not that she cared much for one.

After everyone had dispersed, Payal latched on to her younger sister. Guiding her to a secluded cubby area that they had discovered in their few months of living within Raizada mansion. It was rather odd reflecting on it, despite being such a large house there was never a sense of true privacy. There was a sense of something omnipresent in the air, a feeling of being watched. Both Gupta sister’s had felt it and had still not fully adjusted to it.

‘‘Jiji, is everything okay?’’ Khushi asked, suddenly concerned.

“I wanted to ask about Arnavji … is there something going on between him and Shyam?”

Khushi paused, taking in the question.

“I’m not sure…Arnavji hasn’t mentioned anything, I wonder if something happened between them.”

Payal frowns.

“ Do you think he knows?…about Shyam?” Payal asks, her brows knitted together.

The question pierces Khushi, dread builds up as she imagines the worst case scenario, if Arnav indeed knew about her link to Shyam. No it couldn’t be…it just couldn’t.

Khushi shakes her head.

“No Jiji, if Arnavji knew wouldn’t he ask me first? Wouldn’t he do something? I don’t think it’s that …it can’t be”

Payal nods, her expression still unsure.

“Hmm you’re right Khushi, perhaps it was something else. Not hard to imagine given how repulsive that Shyam is” Payal snorts as she continues. “But as we are on the topic, I want to ask you if you’re okay Khushi…if everything between you and Arnavji is fine? I thought you would be happy when he came back …but you still don’t look yourself..’’ Payal’s soft voice trails off.

Khushi gently grabs a hold of her older sister’s hand, giving it a tender squeeze.

‘‘I’m perfectly fine, Jeeji, I wonder why everyone thinks I’m not!’

Payal raises an eyebrow.

“You don’t look well, Khushi.” She says, as she checks over Khushi - examining her and even placing her hand over her forehead and cheeks to check her younger sister’s temperature.

Khushi breaks away from Payal.

“Jiji, I swear on Devi Maiya I’m fine, I’m healthy. Why don’t you believe me?”

‘’Because this isn’t you, Khushi, I don’t like seeing you like this…you look colorless and frail, you barely ate anything at dinner again, don’t think I didn’t notice!’ Payal states sternly.

Khushi shifts around, nervously. She lets out a rather exaggerated giggle.

‘‘Oh, That! …it’s just that I-I’m dieting! I want to lose weight for Arnavji’’ she blurts out, Khushi realized how stupid her words sounded as soon as they left her mouth but it was too late.

Payal shoots her an incredulous look, her jaw dropping at the revelation.

‘‘Arnavji thinks you should lose weight? You?! That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!’’ Payal exclaimed.

Khushi didn’t know how to respond, knowing that she would only further dig her own grave if she opened her mouth, so instead she offers Payal a slight shrug.

Payal’s mouth sets into a firm line and Khushi inwardly cringes as she recognises the fierce, tenacious look that had come over in her sister’s eyes.

She braced herself for Payal’s next words.

‘That’s it, I’m having a word with Arnavji’

There it was, the final blow.

Payal had started to make her way towards the stairs as Khushi leapt into action.

‘‘Jijiiiii! Noooo! You can’t talk to Arnavji!!’’ Khushi desperately flailed after her sister.

Payal stopped and turned to face her.

‘‘Khushi, I have to talk to him, he needs to realise that it’s not okay to say these things’’ Payal states.

Khushi racks her brains, praying for Devi Maiyaa to intervene.

‘‘You can’t talk to him! You can’t because…because I l-lied. He never said those things, I was just pulling your leg Jiji!’’ Khushi admits, adding a loud obnoxious laugh at the end, for good measure.

Payal gasps and lightly whacks Khushi on the arm who in turn pouts.

‘‘What am I going to do with you, Khushi?’’ Payal sighs, rubbing her temple.

Giving up Payal leaves, not before adding ‘‘make sure you get something to eat before bed!’‘

Khushi was once again alone with her thoughts.

That was a close call!

Khushi mentally thanks Devi Maiyaa as she makes her way towards the bedroom once again .

———————————————————————-

Notes:

I’m so sorry for the long, long delay! I’m still not happy with the chapter and my inner perfectionist is flaring up (I’m cringing posting this knowing I’ve probably misread/missed something) but i sincerely hope this is still enjoyable. I have rewritten this chapter so many times and I’m like screw it, posting it now lol.

There were a couple of points I wanted to touch on such as an emphasis of the sisters having an otherness to them when in the company of the Raizada’s … I thought it would be fascinating to touch on their obliviousness, which I imagine being caused by a mix of family familiarity and a sense of upperclass blindness, which is completely my own headcanon but notice how people savvy Khushi, Payal and Shyam are compared to the others? (Idk if that makes sense) ….but also thought it would be interesting to mention lack of privacy again, like living in a fancy fishbowl, a little nod to Shyam’s cameras (dw that’s not actually in the story but just Shyam being present in the home is creepy!)

The self harm description was graphic and uncomfortable and I hope it wasn’t too much but I felt compelled to include it in.

Please enjoy!

Honey 💖💖

[lancedoncrimsonwings]

Augusnippets Day 30

Path of Whumperless Whump Prompt; "Self-Harm"

Day 30 of @augusnippets August 2024 Whump writing challenge! (Augusnippets Masterlist)

Characters;

- POV/Whumpee/Whumper; Lancelot - The Weeping Monk

- (mentioned) Gawain - The Green Knight

(Character Masterlist)

(Ao3 Link)

Wordcount; 676

TWs; self harm, knives, self harm using knives, mental health, auditory hallucinations, reference to previous self-flagellation, trauma, self hatred, religious trauma, blood <- PLEASE READ THESE TWS THIS SNIPPET EXPLICITLY COVERS VERY DARK THEMES.

"Quiet! Be Quiet..." Lancelot snapped, though at who he knew not, and the voices that tormented him in the silence of his tent certainly didn't harken his words.

A terrible thought crossed his mind and no sooner than it had did he know the only way to silence them.

His fingers itched for the flail he no longer owned. The voices cried out for blood. His heart pounded in anticipation.

His back ached to be torn apart.

Lancelot clamped his hands over his ears, panting.

"Please..." he moaned, whimpering as he curled up on himself, kneeling on the ground and begging like a frenzied man at church for salvation and relief, drowning in guilt, yet as always, ignored.

This terrible thought had become a need, one so desperate and clawing he felt it might suffocate him. His rational mind fled, so consumed as he was now by the urge to split himself open, to release this terrible pressure building up inside that felt like it might stop his heart in his chest and drag him down to hell.

"I can't!" He cried, but still they did not listen, howling in his mind like demented wolves braying at the moon.

"I have not the scourge... please..."

You have a knife.

Steel glinted with the dancing flame of his candle. Lancelot found himself watching how the light glanced from the blade as he turned it this way and that, unknowing quite how or when the hilt had found his hand, nor when he'd stripped his upper half of clothes which now lay discarded beside him.

He could not answer the call of his back, but he could pay off his demons in blood all the same. Sweat beaded up on his brow as he lowered his gaze to his arm, that need so almost satiated by the mere idea of what he was about to do that he found himself hesitating just for a moment...

A moment as his heartbeat pounded louder than the screaming chorus. A moment that his bare, whole arm filled his vision instead of the forces in his mind that sought to claim him. A moment whilst the fog of his mind cleared for the breifest of seconds before the hungry beasts tore anguish through his soul again.

He lowered the blade into his arm.

Blood welled up and began to spill slowly, like a crimson river rising from the sundered valley of torn skin across his outer forearm, weaving over old scars and staining the green leaves below him scarlet. He found himself watching it, mesmerised. How much of his life had been filled with pain for the curse of what now flowed down his skin?

This sinful demon blood must be purged from his veins.

Again and again he drew the knife upon himself, a savage smile gracing his face as the voices sighed in relief, the demons drunk their fill of him, pain driving the haze from his brain into this single-minded focus, to slice and to main.

To punish himself and force the anguish of his mind out onto broken skin and scars.

Oh the bliss, as the voices ceased, the demons returned to their cages, satiated. He did not stop, not yet, though he could not see skin for blood, basking in the pleasure of being, of feeling just for a second, truly alive.

He cared not for the pain which he no longer felt, cared not for the mess or the injury he dealt. He cared only for the blade that bit into his skin again and again and again and aga--

"Stop! Lancelot, no..."

The bloodied blade slipped through trembling fingers, his breathing came ragged, cheeks wet with tears.

He was dimly aware of strong arms wrapping around him, a pair of emerald eyes wide with shock and concern. He let himself fall against the chest that pulled him close, breathing in a scent of pine and leather, of fear and blood and sweat.

His Green Knight come to save him and make his shattered pieces whole.

Final Augusnippets Prompt Path; Whumperless Whump is now complete! As mentioned, I am doing the optional day 31, stay tuned for that tomorrow :)

A heavy one today, I'll admit to finding this one difficult to write and very personal, but cathartic too. Yes, Gawain found him and helped him afterwards, and yes, this will be included in the main fic at some point. I really felt it was important for me to explore this darker theme with Lancelot, I definitely felt like he'd have a tendency towards harming himself given the self-flagellation we see in Cursed and his internal conflicts, especially if it's been a while since he was injured in battle so he had less or no pain to focus on. But I also want to show a hopeful arc with him too, and hope that throughout my planned story he'll need to resort to it less and less as the urges fade away. Still! All that is for future anyways.

Thanks for reading, let me know if you enjoyed reading this, onto the final day tomorrow!

[scarlet--wiccan]

Momiji, the Scarlet Hannya, in Demon Wars: Scarlet Sin

Scarlet Sin is the latest installment in Peach Momoko's Demon Days saga, an original fantasy tale inspired by Japanese folklore and history. The yokai and oni populating Momoko's world are based on existing Marvel characters, often reimagined in new and unique ways.

The Hannya Momiji is Momoko's take on the Scarlet Witch. A hannya is a style of mask worn in noh theater which represents vengeful female spirits. The name Momiji also belongs to a character from Japanese folklore-- a female oni of great beauty and skill who is sometimes portrayed as a villain, and sometimes as a victim. Her name translates to "maple leaves," which are fitting for Wanda, given their red color.

[fragileizywriting]

Day 14 - Prostate Massage

Adrien is probably the most vulnerable whenever Marinette decides to have him close. 

Probably?

Hold on.

Okay, so it’s a different experience having sex with her than it is having sex with Luka— which, obviously— because Luka is tall, and strong, with arms thicker than his, who has a pretention of snuffing Adrien’s oxygen right out of him by bending him over and squeezing his throat. 

Marinette is not like this. 

The woman is small. Tiny. She barely makes it to his sternum, even in heels; a small thing, a tiny creature, and it’s obvious, at first glance, who should be the one in charge in bed. There’s something helpless about her that he likes, her gentle lashes that flutter every time his fingers are working to find the seam of her panties so he can push them aside and curl out a moan or helpless whimper out of her. The way her eyes widen, her face turns scarlet with something innocent twinkling in those blue eyes, all of it makes him interested, because what demon doesn’t like corrupting something as sweet and cute as that face? 

She’s almost doll-like. Princess like. She’s one of those painted little wooden statues that little girls used to play with, way, way back in the day. Painted lips, expressive face, always friendly… cute, adorable, always up to chat and chitter, always joyful and happy like a little bird chirping outside their window or on Luka’s dock, who loves being in the presence of her boyfriends and is generally such an optimistic person.

Except, of course, it’s all a ruse— Marinette is not, in fact, innocent— and uses that allure to catch demons by surprise. As a succubus, she is quite literally the embodiment of sin, preying on those who see her and want to ruin her. Like him. Like Luka. Like anyone who gets caught in her spiderweb of magic, of lust, of deceit, and damn it, thank the Lord that Adrien is bisexual, because the sex between the three of them is insane. 

It’s such a delight to have two different ways of being vulnerable; with Luka, the First who is stronger than anything Adrien has ever seen, makes his pulse race. It’s the first time in his life that someone stronger than him has actually wanted him in bed, and who is he to refuse? He’s not an idiot. Gabriel had taught him at an early age to not trust Firsts, monsters of demons who want to kill anyone in the royal family for what they’ve done. Danger, danger, danger, and Adrien’s been brought up with the correct discipline to easily disarm one, just to make sure nothing ever happens. Adrien is built like a First. Tall, strong, muscles— he has the added bonus of being educated, which not many have that luxury— but none of that even matters. With Luka, Adrien feels small.

They’re practically the same height. The same size. But Adrien feels tiny.

Bisexuality is a gift from the Lord, and he won’t ever take it for granted, because— because hello, hi— and because with Marinette, an entirely different person, having sex is a completely different experience, and it is lovely.

With Marinette, he feels like a brute. The woman is flexible, pliable, moldable; he’s always been partial to how he can move and manipulate her like he’s contorting a piece of dough, like those bakery breads that she salivates over on the street when they pass a boulangerie. He likes how portable she is; one scoop of his arms and she’s in it, giggling and laughing this gentle laugh that makes him so love struck and laughing himself, bringing her to bed like she’s a lovestruck bride in his arms. 

 But Adrien’s always been good at being flexible, too. In the literal sense as well as metaphorically— good at adaptation, good at following along, scoping out what to do, getting sense of what’s required— and if Marinette wants to take the lead, well, that’s fine by him. She’s tiny, yes, but she makes it work. It’s ridiculous. 

It’s part of the charm, actually.

He loves it.

It’s such a sight to see her face peek up from the mess she’s made out of his balls. It’s a compromising position, him spread his legs enough for her to fit through and lick away at his skin, but Lord. Lord. Who cares? Who would ever give this up? Her tongue is soft, kittenish, gentle yet warm against his sac; every lick makes him shudder, his own tongue feel too big for his mouth, and his body stiffen more and more with a bordering orgasm finding its way towards the horizon. It’s delirious. It’s delicious. That’s the whole point of her, after all— catch unsuspecting demons between her teeth and make a main course out of them.

“Breathe,” Luka tells him, not at all helping, right behind him where he’s cozied up, back to chest. 

Long fingers have found their way through Adrien’s hair, curling around his own curls. The touch is sweet, yet not distracting enough to keep him spiraling; Marinette’s tongue is soft but her instincts are sharp, and with every ragged inhale he tries, attempting to gain a foothold, she forces him to shakily exhale when she pushes in.

Push.

Pull.

It’s almost like meditation. Tantric sex isn’t a thing they’ve tried, though certainly it feels like this, because Luka laughs as he leads him through what should be considered extended breathing exercises… ah, but the thought fizzles out like a star when Luka’s hands move across his scalp, petting him like a cat, like an animal, and Adrien follows the scratches like he needs it to live.

Luka breaks the relative, quiet silence, one that’s been rolling like thunder. Warm and safe and slow. “How are you feeling?”

“Yeah,” Adrien replies, not coherent in the slightest.

“You’re too stressed out, you know?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“I hate when you think of your family.”

“It’s hard not to.”

“I know,” Luka sighs. “But forget a little bit. Focus. Just ease into it.”

“I might do it too quickly,” Adrien punches out. “I’m exhausted.”

And everyone knows he gives his problems freely and away, now. It was tough work. Marinette had to coax him for what feels like years. But now he’s butter, melting at her touch, whenever she wants just so he doesn’t stew in stress.

“We’ll catch you.” Luka punctuates this with a kiss to the forehead. Tender, for a man whose teeth are longer than the Lord. Tender, for a man whose eyes are pinhole slits rimmed with gold. Tender, for a man whose an angel turned demon.

This entire area is sensitive.

Surprisingly, it’s not this exact part that is his favorite, but they haven’t even gotten started, so he knows it’s soon to show up. That tongue of hers is monstrously long, and while she massages and kneads his balls with the flat part of her tongue, spit and saliva cooling against his skin, the tip of her tongue is interested elsewhere. Lord. She rims him with extraordinary ease, moaning softly to herself when he sighs and hisses. He should grab her head. Her horn. He should keep her there, grind up against her tongue as she laves saliva and kisses all over him like she’s creating a dance out of his rising orgasm, but he can’t. Just as Luka always manages to have him in a chokehold, Marinette is no different.

Small. Tiny. Yet vicious.

Instead, he lets her do her work, lets her go through the motions of preparing him. It’s his favorite. She knows it. Anticipation bleeds across his muscles, tense and wanting, as she licks and gasps against his skin with a gentle sighs. His skin is sandpaper. Every touch makes his toes curl from excitement, every fluttering lash in his direction curdles his orgasm into something tighter, hotter, on the precipice of coming. She hasn’t even done it and he’s so into it. Mind-melding, like scratching an itch he’s needed for so long.

Just a touch to his perineum is nearly enough. She’s got a knuckle on him, just after his balls, gently needling him as she rims him right open— it’s a choice, it is, but it’s a good one. Nothing can convince him otherwise that this isn’t the best spot. Something about it feels strange, feels wrong, feels deplorable in a way that nothing else does.

Who ever cares about the perineum?

No one does. No one cares, no one even pays attention to it. Cock. Ass. Balls. Who ever spends their time kneading into the skin just between, massaging him until it fixes his stuttering breath? He didn’t even know this existed, not really, until she tried it. And she— ah, sex incarnate, of course— knew just what to do to entertain him, knew just where and how to touch him until his fingers are tight and white into fists. She’s smart. She’s experienced. He’s a puppet in her hands.

Ah, and Marinette’s knuckles are bony, just firm enough for him to feel a metaphorical ball rolling under his skin where she touches him— oh, Lord, at this point, it must be his soul that she’s prodding. Every touch has him twisting the sheets underneath him, breath tight and taut.

Her tongue is still there, still pressing into his prostate, still forcing him to sob openly as she takes care of him like he needs.

“Marinette,” he punches out, swift and dead like a flown arrow. It’s enough. It’s enough. It’s such a minute detail, such a little thing that he loves, that just this little bit of attention as she rims him puts him out of his skin, existing in another dimension. “I’m—”

Let go, she replies, echoing in his head. Breathe and let go, Kitty-Cat.

When she lets him orgasm, it comes— quite literally— like a single rounding shot. Something realigns. He comes all over his stomach, splattering white just underneath the navel, smart enough to focus on not clamping his knees against her head. Orgasming is fluid, smooth, a comfort that doesn’t hurt.

He’s left buzzing when she pulls away and licks her lips. Where is his body? It’s not really quite there. Is that really so bad?

[darthbreezy]

A Scarlet Letter Day(fic)

Note - this is inspired (admittedly a bit overdue as it's rattled around in one form or another since I first read the story) by 'Idiot'

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49224499

by the Blessedly Talented theyellowestmustard - I'd strongly suggest reading it first, not only because it's brilliant, but as it's a direct springboard to this tale - Idiots, spoonerisms and Idioms inclusive... * This is a rough daft because I really want to have a nice, well thought out accounting of this scarlet letter day before I journal it in the nice book Crowley gave me for my personal thoughts away from the flying eyes of Heaven. I'll make my official report later - I'm still officially a level 37 Scrivener and every once in a while the Head Office wants a report. OK, so it's been a long time since they've asked (Not since the Metatron put me in charge of the Bookshop) but since the Supreme Arch Angel 'quit' (!!!) surely they'll want a record?

That will be different than what I write for myself (Is that a sin? Is it Vanity? I'll ask The Supreme Arch Angel The Traitor Aziraphale (I think for brevity and clarity, I'll just call him 'Mr. Fell' as that's what the other shop keepers (like Maggie and Nina) call him. I can't wait to go chew the facts with them about what happened! But I have to wait until Crowley and Mr. Fell leave before I can go over. Crowley said if they knew Mr. Fell was back, they'd ''be on them like a flock of quacking ducks'' (Crowley normally likes ducks, so I don't know why this is a problem?) and that ''he and Angel'' (that's what he calls Mr. Fell when he likes him) ''needed a few days alone to get re-acquainted.'' When I asked if they were going to have 'make up sex', or was that just a one time think, Mr. Fell's whole corporation seemed to go almost purple while Crowley just snort-laughed and told Mr. Fell to wait for him in the Bentley, and that he'd miracle everything they'd need for the trip. He didn't answer my question though, but considering I haven't heard him laugh since we were bees in Heaven, so that's OK. I don't know if it's 'proper' for me, an angel (37 level scrivener) to care about a demon, but Crowley has been kind to me (he can deny all he wants. but angels like Michael used to look at me like I was something dirty on the bottom of their shoe even though Heaven is always clean, unlike the streets here on Earth.) It's so nice to see him so happy. I just hope Mr. Fell doesn't hurt him again. I don't think he really wanted to the first time, but Heaven doesn't tell me anything. Some things shouldn't be examined too closely I think. Of course, Crowley would tell me otherwise, but he is a demon after all.

SO!

Mr. Fell came back from Heaven! There was a bit of a clock up (or was it a wind up? I was in any case.) I got locked and miracled out of the bookshop all night. I was worried scared for Crowley, but it turns out he was asleep on Mr Fell's new (BIG!) bed. I was glad that he was safe (and sleeping! He hasn't slept in a long time. Sleep is a human thing living, Earth-Creature thing, which makes me wonder how much of a demon he really is, now?)

Once I made sure that Crowley was really safe. Mr. Fell and I went downstairs to talk.

He said he appreciated how well I kept the bookshop, I told him how Crowley helped make sure we never sold a single book, and that made him sad for some reason. I didn't want to him to think we just just didn't sell books, but added some new things to make it look nice, including the 'Quote Board' that was by the till. Nina had given it to me when I took over the shop and until yesterday, it had said ''You're only as strong as the drinks you mix.'' but now there was a new message in Crowley's hand. It said 'The Supreme Arse-Angel has left the building.'' I went to erase it, but Mr. Fell smiled and said to leave it.

He made a nice cup of tea and we talked about, well, me!

What I might want to do (stay on Earth of go back to Heaven - I really think I want to stay here, it so nice and I like having people to talk to).

I know Crowley's apartment is a possibility (did he even ask Crowley? I guess having that bedroom with a big bed means he's going to stay here.) I tried to tell Mr. Fell that I really liked Earth and would probably want to stay, but he got all anxious, and wrung his hands and said not to be 'rash' or 'hasty', so I said I would think about it.

I asked him to tell me what happened last night and at first he didn't want to tell me anything, saying it was ''water under the bridge'' and it was between him and Crowley but I reminded him that I was the one locked out - miracled out! all night, and I deserved an explanation. He sighed and said there had been a lot of shouting, and more than a few tears, then finally some real talking and perhaps a bottle between them...

I was going to ask whether they were going to go have their 'extremely alcoholic breakfast at the Ritz' when we heard Crowley's voice calling for his Angel from the main part of the shop.

You'd think Mr. Fell's wings were on fire by how fast he ran out to meet him. I was only a few steps behind but by the time I got out there, Mr. Fell was already standing really close to Crowley, with his arms around the demon's waist. he was wearing a silky robe that looked like (I couldn't be sure because Mr. Fell was standing right up against him) it was completely open. I guess he realised I was there really quickly, because all at once he snapped his fingers and was fully dressed. He looked nicer than he has in months!

''You still here, you little Treacle Tart?'' he asked, so I said ''yes you, you Lizard Lounger!'' which surprised Mr. Fell, but I think Crowley's snort laugh surprised him even more - (Oh, I guess it's 'Lounge Lizard' but in any case, it was funny to us.)

So the short and fat of it is, Crowley and Mr. Fell are going to spend a few days 'on the coast' together. Crowley said not to ring them even if the Anti-Christ shows up on the stoop or he'd tie all my fingers into knots (which is a really low level 'threat' from him - I guess he was too excited to get going, and Mr. Fell said Adam was a lovely young man anyway.) I'll be watching the shop, and not selling any books until they return. Maybe when they get back, I'll go someplace myself! All by myself!! Maybe even as far as Greenwich!

As Crowley said, it's time to leave the Garden,

I think I'm ready!

M.