#eden : *HE'S SHAMELESS*

[momentomori24]

I was planning on making a post on Wolfgang and Grace attraction and affection and it's more passionate nature with a more sexual undercurrent in comparison to the other pairings in our cast, but I found this small section in a Ulywen fic that summed it up perfectly. Like, yes. Yes, you get me, dude.

[lunaetis]

▸▸ [ @muraenide || third time is a charm ]

─「エデン」─  she had her arm rested next to his frame, partially trapping him between herself and the counter. despite the fact that she was wearing heels, he still stood taller than her. golden hues gazed up at the other, her breath would be felt with how she leaned closer, stopping before their lips could touch as if asking for permission.

[insertfunkyusernamehere]

lewis hamilton x male reader [nsfw]

SO I FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED IT FUCK ME DEAD BRO

i'm so sorry it took so long, i struggle with motivation... i'm now just sick of looking at this, i'm fucking done with it man dfyhwesvyhewjcdb

word count: 3.4k

cw: nsfw, swearing, sub!lewis, dom!reader, male!reader, anal sex, soft vanilla sex i guess, regular ol' missionary, author can't title shit for shit, author also got a little lazy at the end, author ALSO got lazy with writing prep so he just didn't but oh well- but it's actually kinda sweet though??????

anyway, i hope you enjoy the fruits of my labour ;-;

(i'm also not the kinda guy who's like "fem aligned dni", simply cause i don't care. just enjoy it, whoever you are <3)

lewis hamilton. 

a man who could have any woman he wanted using his sheer status alone. a man who could seize the heart of any entranced fan with nothing more than a simple smile. a man who could make any admirer fantasise at night after dropping a subtly suggestive comment during an interview. 

not the kind of man who you’d expect to show up at your hotel room in the dead of the night with a condom, lube, and a half-baked idea.

“fuck me.” 

there'd never been a queer man on the grid before – not openly at least – and not since mike beuttler, who’d just disappeared to the list of forgotten drivers. you, on the other hand, appeared to have turned out quite the opposite. you had seemed to be the media’s hottest topic as of late. 

you weren’t lost to the obituaries. 

after you had come out, you weren’t disregarded nor overlooked. Instead, it seemed as though the entire world’s eyes were on you. you weren’t just another driver anymore; you were like a unicorn hailing from the garden of eden, and a very influential one at that. all the cameras had transitioned to your direction, and you had become all the rage as a rare representer of the queer community in motorsports. every single reporter wanted to know the finer details of your life, and this was no exception for the drivers as well. 

in particular, lewis hamilton. 

the man had been ever so curious since the day he saw you in the paddock, but not the innocent kind of curious. he couldn’t figure out why he was having such thoughts as you were a man. sure, he could admit when a guy was good-looking, but he’s never felt sexually drawn to another male before, not genuinely. maybe it was your intense driving style that he found so hot and raw, or the way you carried yourself when speaking to fellow drivers that really tickled his britches. or maybe it was simply the knowledge that you indeed liked men that gave him the confidence to accept that his thoughts were valid. 

either way, he was attracted, and he didn’t quite know why you twisted his ideals. but he did know that he wanted to find out, he wanted to get closer to you. he felt as though he had to – needed to. and as your friendship strengthened, he soon discovered that he wanted to get closer to you in a much different sense to how he originally thought. in a sense that he felt was dastardly wrong, in a sense that made him question if it was even women he really desired in the first place. 

and who were you to turn him down? it’s lewis fucking hamilton. 

as soon as you were greeted by those great big bambi eyes and that shameless request, you pulled him into your dimly lit hotel room and kicked the door closed without so much as a second thought. 

you had made out wildly and were stripped of all clothing items within mere moments, far too fast for either of you get your heads wrapped around the situation. you couldn’t care less if he didn’t have any feelings for you that were beyond carnal, it was impossible when his strong inked figure was spread out underneath you – all bare, prepped, and gorgeous – reduced to submissiveness, like a sacrificial lamb waiting to be devoured. and it was even hotter to know that he came to your door and asked for this whilst completely in his right mind. 

lewis' back was pressed to the mattress and his cock lay hard against his flat abs, and it dribbled bead after bead of precum that glistened with the faint moonlight creeping through the curtains. he felt you guide your length between his legs, the hot weight of it knocking against thigh was enough to have his mind turned to mush. 

“wait” lewis clutched your wrist, which currently gripped the base of your erect cock to line yourself up with lewis’ entrance. your heart dropped for a moment, and you quickly stopped your doings to ensure lewis’ comfort. your gaze snapped up to meet his dark chocolate eyes, searching for any sign of discontent. but you saw none. 

“yes?” your voice came out as a faint whisper as you held a thoughtful gaze. you slipped out of the grip from the familiarly foreign hand and your fingers instead travelled up the mingle of naked bodies, resting on lewis’ burning cheek. 

lewis didn’t want you to think that he’d changed his mind about wanting to experiment and embarrass you beyond reason – you've already got enough going on – and he didn’t want to deny your eager, aching cock any relief. besides, it wasn’t in his place to back out. after all, he was the one who had arrived at your hotel room unannounced, forcing you to put your late-night activities on hold in order to please him. so he simply smiled softly. 

“just... be gentle...” lewis’ voice was equally as quiet as yours, enough to make you shudder in its wake. “i’ve never done this before – lay with another man, that is...” 

you nod in response and lewis’ hand encased your hand, the one on his cheek, with his own and came in for a hot and tender kiss – for reassurance. your eyes flutter shut, and you feel your dick twitch and leak within the confines of the condom. you suddenly wish lewis didn’t want you to wear it, you wish you could feel every cell of his insides squeeze and drag deliciously against you. you had already felt it with your fingers, but you were starving for more, and the thought has you salivating. but it is what it is, you weren’t about to force lewis out of his comfort zone, especially not on his first time. 

“well, i’ve done this before...” you start as you pull back to resume the guidance of your length to lewis’ entrance, your hand leaving a lingering ghost of a touch on lewis’ cheek. “...it’s a bit uncomfortable at first, but i swear it’ll feel really really good after a moment. i promise. i'll make sure it’s amazing for you- and if you wanna stop, i'm ok with that too! Just, please, let me know if i hurt you, or if you wanna stop. i can take rejection, and-” 

“y/n?” 

“mm?” 

“you’re rambling...” 

you huff at yourself and drop your head, your hair briefly tickling lewis’ nose as you mutter your apology. lewis smiled and simply brought your face back up to his to pull you in for another kiss. 

“look... i’ve already taken your fingers and i'm fine. it's just a little more girth, right?” he said as he smiled softly at you. you really wanted to tell him that that wasn’t the case, but you also didn’t want to scare him off. you really wanted this. your thoughts wandered back to the feel of your fingers inside lewis’ virgin hole a few moments ago and you couldn’t wait to have that death grip take ahold of your cock. 

“are you sure?” you ask, solely for validation as your free hand comes up to trace along the intricate patterns of lewis’ braids. he smiles softly and nods. 

“certain.” 

you want to doubt his reassurance, but you can’t ignore your desires – nor his. you just held his gaze for a few more seconds before refocusing back on the initial task at hand. you guide your well-lubricated tip to prod at lewis’ entrance and his hole flutters around nothing in anticipation. he's already a pretty man but you can’t help but think how absolutely divine he looks like this. 

lewis let himself relax against the pillows as your tip slowly slipped into him, taking deep breaths as you pushed past the first ring of muscle of his hole. naturally, lewis gasped, which immediately made you pause thinking you’d hurt him. 

“you ok?” you asked cautiously as your gaze flickered back up to his face, watching carefully for any expressions that may indicate he’d want you to stop. but all you were greeted with was a breathy chuckle. 

“never better.” 

you let out a deep breath and just closed your eyes to focus on all the sensations happening at once. the heavy breaths from both you and lewis, the feel of his hole eagerly engulfing your tip, the firm weight of his hands resting on your chest like an anchor. you were struggling to take it slow, to control yourself and not ruthlessly fuck the ever-living hell out of lewis – the latter could sense it. but you remained strong and kept the pace deliberate. however, should this special situation occur again in the future, you hope he might let you do just that. you wished for nothing more than to take him in every position under the sun, to have him all for your own personal entertainment. it was such a tantalising concept. 

you gradually pushed yourself further into lewis, he would stifle a whimper for every centimeter his hole sucked in – it was a punishingly slow process. but he kept his head as he screwed his eyes shut and hyper focused on the way your fat cock was stretching him. he noticed it was a much different sensation to fingers – but a pleasant difference it was. he was in love with the feeling and even more in love with the fact that you were the one being intimate with him, he felt as though he’d waited his whole life for this moment. 

lewis chuckled under his breath at the sight of you completely losing your mind – much like himself. you were usually so calm and collected from how’s he’s previously observed you, he had no idea you could be absolutely picked apart at the brain like this. it only added to his unexplainable attraction towards you. 

your head was drooped down, and you groaned faintly against lewis’ collarbone. you felt yourself close already and you were only halfway sheathed inside him. you couldn’t help it, he was clenching you way too sinfully good, conceiving pleasures like that from the heavens. 

oh, how you wished to feel him without a condom on, all succulent and raw. 

“holy fuck, y/n...” lewis sighed out as his hand carded through your hair encouragingly, his other moving to wrap around the back of your torso. he drew you as close as your masses would allow you to, cuddling your chests together so compactly you weren’t sure any oxygen could squeeze through. you both breathed heavily as you finally slipped all the way into lewis. he could’ve sworn he felt you in his stomach, you were that deep, and yet he somehow still wanted you even closer. 

“o-oh... wow...” lewis’ voice cracked as you nestled yourself completely inside him, all the way to the hilt, feeling his walls clench you delightfully as your balls pressed against his firm ass. he felt his legs instinctually spread a little wider to accommodate you, an automated response that he didn’t know he had. he breathed heavily while you kissed a comforting trail along his neck, licking along his tattoos, giving him a moment to adjust to your staggering size. 

“lemme know when to move...” you whispered against the lightly sweat-sheen skin of lewis’ collarbone, which only prompted him to weakly hook his legs around your waist. 

“mmh... you can...” he mumbled out softly, barely able to keep his focus on anything but the fat cock that was wedged considerably deep inside of him. he pulled you closer and pressed his forehead to yours – you were now breathing each other’s heavy air and you could practically feel the vibrations of his tiny whimpers in your throat. 

you let out a shaky breath before you gingerly pull your hips back, savouring the electrifying buzz that jolted throughout your entire body as your throbbing cock dragged against his walls. you held your breath as you pulled out to your tip, before gently pumping back all the way into him with a lewd squelch. both of your breaths hitched as a simple thrust managed to illicit such ethereal feelings within you both. the sensations were mindboggling as you began to develop a slow rhythm, throwing lewis into a most blissful state as you made love to him. 

your chests heaved with your deep exhales as pleasure and anxiety wrestled for supremacy at the core of your conjoined bodies. the latter was soon conquered, and you became more confident as you saw his completely fucked out expression – it was all the reassurance you needed to know that he was enjoying himself. 

lewis could feel everything – every little bump and vein on your cock was making an imprint on his insides, like his body was a silicon mold that was simply made for you to use however you wished. he felt your warm breath fan across his face as you whispered encouragements to him. he felt each time your balls and thighs would make contact with his rear. he felt a haze begin to fog up his mind and prevent him from think about anything but the way you were methodically drilling into him. his arms wrapped around your torso to draw you even nearer, his nails digging into your shoulder blades to ground himself. 

“you feel too good...” you moaned out quietly, your words having quite the effect on lewis. he felt all tingly as your voice stuck to the inner walls of his skull and persistently hammered at his brain, infusing what you had said into the darkest corners of his mind. he won’t forget the sultry tone you held when you said that – not for a very long time. 

he never knew it could feel like this, being on the receiving end, but it certainly shed some clarity on his confusion and defeated the blur that censored his heart. lewis knew what he was, and he was more than ok with it. 

“y/n... don’t stop...” he whined, influenced by the pleasure bubbling at his core from you gently fucking him. 

that was all the invigoration you needed before you snaked a hand around lewis’ waist, finding purchase on the small of his back to elevate him a few inches off the mattress. the modest alteration allowed for your cock to venture deeper inside him with each thrust, and for your tip to knock his prostate, causing him cry out and arch up into you. his hands raked down your back, possibly leaving red stripes in the aftermath, and his head rolled back, leaving his tattooed neck exposed for you to kiss and leave a few love bites should he let you. 

lewis moaned loudly, a bit louder than he would’ve liked for a hotel room. typically, if it were a woman, he’d have no issues – hell he’d encourage a bit of volume. he’d want the world to know. in this case, he definitely didn’t want anyone to know he was being sodomised. god forbid it reached the media, he’d never live down the copious amounts of controversy that would spark up. 

but that wasn’t on his mind right now, nothing was, nothing except you. you had stripped away his ability to focus on anything except the pleasure sailing through his veins, the kind that liquified his brain and set his body aflame. it was one thing being inside someone and a completely different thing having someone inside you. lewis decided that he quite liked both. 

lewis' body jolted with each firm from thrust from you, your bodies meshed perfectly like yin and yang. he couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling to the back of his head when your other hand flew down to stroke his neglected cock in tandem with your solid thrusts. your thumb brushed over his swollen, oozing tip, collecting his juices on the pad of your finger. you then brought that hand up to his face, prodding your thumb past his already agape lips and smeared his taste all over his own tongue. lewis moaned again, the saltiness of it suddenly made him feel parched and filthy in only the best way. he couldn’t stop himself from lapping at your finger eagerly. 

“lewis... i-i'm close...” you keened as your thumb, much to his dismay, slipped out of his mouth, tugging at his bottom lip one last time before returning to his cock. he choked out a little giggle through his moan, his hips bucking up into your hand. 

“already?” he teased, although in no position to do so. he smirked up at you. 

“yeah...” you sigh out shamelessly, too focused on the tight coil in the pit of your stomach that threatened to snap at any moment to care about his playful tease. lewis let out a long hum. 

“me too...” he said, which made you giggle in return. 

“already?” you jest, shooting back the same mischievous look he had given you. 

“shut up.” 

the bout of banter soon eluded your minds as your thrusts became more ragged and desperate, and the necessity to cum became devastatingly unbearable in the sordid instant. lewis whined under his breath, his mouth frantically chased yours in a lip lock of spit and tongue as he clenched around you. hard. all his muscles tensed as you devoured his muffled moans, your fist gripping him like a vice. you felt his juices leaking all down your fingers, wet and glistening in the dim light provided by the moonlight seeping through the blinds. he arched up into you as you bucked into him like a wild animal in heat, chasing the high that had been evading obtainability – like it was just taunting you, dragging you around and drawing this out longer than you intended. you had no complaints whatsoever. 

lewis pulled off your lips to bury his face in your neck, his beard scratched you and his heavy breath condensed – it only further concentrated the hot and sticky sheen of sweat on your skin - but you could not give less of a shit when you were balls deep inside him and on the brink of an orgasm. 

“y/n... y/n- please” he choked out as he felt himself about to burst, saying your name over and over like a prayer. you couldn’t ignore his pleas, and you snapped your hips into him just a bit faster, the sound of skin slapping gradually magnifying. 

“cum for me, lewis...” 

your words made him feel high. adrenaline surged through his veins at the same intensity as when he was flying at 300kmh on the track, except this time the whole world wasn’t watching him, counting on him to make it past the finish line. it was just you, him, and the sins you would probably never speak of again. he'd have it no other way. 

with a loud cry of your name that he tried to muffle in the crook of your neck, lewis was tipped over the edge by a particularly hard thrust from you that made his vision tunnel and blur. hot ropes of cum uncontrollably spurt out, painting your hand and his belly white – his cum was sandwiched between your stomachs and sticking your skin – decorating the compass tattooed on his torso. just the sight of his cock twitching and trickling bodily fluids was enough to have you thrown past your limit as well. you came hard within the confines of the condom – the rubber effectively containing what would’ve been a mighty mess – as your hips stopped moving and just rested against him, his hole like a boa constrictor as it milked you for every single drop you had. 

you both panted as you stayed inside lewis for just a little while longer, not wanting to pull out from his warmth just yet – you don’t think he wanted you to pull out yet either. and you were more than ok with that. 

“woah...” was all lewis could muster as he took a beat to catch his breath. 

“woah, indeed...” you replied, too taking deep breaths to regulate yourself. 

lewis felt like he was on a cloud that was drifting away to another realm. his head was fuzzy, in a good way, and he felt weightless in your arms as you peppered kisses all over the lion tattoo on his pec, creeping up to his shoulder and neck. all was quiet as you just basked in the blissful aftermath of your obscene activities, until lewis found his voice. 

“we should do that again...” he said quietly, eagerly, pulling back so his gaze could meet yours. “...but without the condom.”

i wanna fuck the shit outta this man

might go cry rq

-leo :3

[bloomingdarkgarden]

To Taste Wisteria in Her Lullaby

A contribution to @elriel-month 2024

3,2K | Angst-Pining | Azriel POV | Shameless Garden Metaphors

This one shot is decicated to @tealeaves-and-rosepetals, @wingedblooms and @deathsweetblossoms my verdant darlings. The other day we were discussing our admiration of Elain as a plant lover, and well, I decided that Azriel needs to do the same thing. Low and behold, who does he find also wondering her gardens in the moonlight?

Sleep is a word he no longer remembers.

It was always an elusive hope. 

Now it evades him entirely.

A midsummer moon spilled upon the tranquil terrace of the river manor. How two seasons had come to pass in what felt like a handful of days, Azriel did not know. Solstice was long gone. Starfall came and went.

Both had faded like dreams in the ether.

And here he was, half the year gone by.

An evening breeze sifted through the garden’s verge. Warm, decadent, indigo-rich with the scent of night.

Elain was here, in these gardens.

Not physically. But in every blossom, every delicate unfurling- she was here. Her foresight and planning, her craft in the groundwork and choice of species. Her innate ability to nourish and grow beautiful things from a dark, empty void of soil. 

From a dark, empty void of a male heart, too.

Nights like tonight were… difficult for him. Listening to pleasant banter around the dinner table for hours, contributing to it himself in a false effort to bury his own misery. He thought the need for her might ebb, after so many months had passed, or at the very least, the mourning. That cold loss of what almost was.

But the need lingered instead.

It lingered, and lingered, and lingered, always.

The eden she had cultivated in the river manor was nothing shy of extraordinary. An illustrious, dream-ridden world of wisteria, lavendula, lily and countless flowers Azriel couldn’t wholly identify. Elain tended these courtyards in honor of Rhys and Feyre, with the grandeur of the high court in mind. The blossoms chosen were a range of whisper-blue, lilac and starlight, every possible shade in between. Yet while undeniably lovely, the royal gardens were a far cry from what she chose to grow at the townhouse.

Elain did not know, but Azriel occasionally ambled through that garden, too, in the dead of night. The townhouse felt closer to her heart than this place, somehow. Closer to who she was intrinsically. A little less refined beneath the surface. Etched with softer, wilder blooms far more tangled and lovely.

He strolled silently through the furthest of the terraces, shrouded beneath high walls of ivy. A clock somewhere far off chimed three in the morning and Azriel made an effort not to acknowledge the implication.

Sleep is a word he no longer remembers, after all.

In the quietest hours of the night, not even his shadows could seem to muster the energy to stay awake anymore. They lulled at his shoulders, slumbering for the most part, tracing silent footfalls. 

Which is why, as he rounded a corner lost in thought, the last thing he anticipated was colliding headlong into another person in the dead of night.

But there she was.

“Oh,” Elain murmured with soft surprise, halting her quiet steps.

She was only a half-breath away, just as taken aback as he was. The reflection of a night sky glittering in the sleepless chestnut of her eyes. So close that Azriel could count the stars within them.

They all looked as lost and lonely as those within his own.

She was clad in a soft champagne shift, a semi-transparent shawl wrapped around her slight shoulders. Her hair was-

unbound.

And the whisper of her soft curves could be seen through the moonlight.

Fuck, this was a cruel sort of dream.

His own descent into purgatory always began this way. With her, like this, in his arms. With his lips tracing a tender trail over every inch of her skin. With her being then stolen away from him by some cursed hand of fate he could never again reach.

Loose, natural waves of curl illuminated her silhouette in the dark hush of the garden. The need to run his hands through those curls would be his demise.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she explained by way of greeting.

Azriel swallowed, understanding all too well.

“I know the feeling,” he offered frankly in return.

Silence abounded.

Elain lowered her gaze momentarily, color blooming across her cheek. Azriel tried not to brand the memory of her this way- unbound, moonlit, and half-dressed- into his hindbrain for the next 700 years.

“I was just admiring your work,” he murmured, glancing to the nearby trellis.

A half-honest truth.

“I myself was doing the opposite,” she softly mused, leaning to study a stunning assortment of moonlily. “There’s much that could be improved, anyway. Though the rosaceae and mints have turned out nicely this year despite the late snow.”

Immediately, he knew Elain was exhausted. He could hear it in the drawn timbre of her voice.

He wanted to take her away.

Far away.

Somewhere he could be allowed to trace the skin of her entire body with the soft petals of her perfect primrose blooms. And whisper, all the while, that she didn’t know how to grow something that wasn’t breathtaking.

Azriel said nothing, ignoring the songs of impossible dreams. 

His shadows were awake now, observing the source of those songs. Curiously peering at her from their swirling perch.

He could hear wisteria in the lullaby of her. He could hear tiredness, and soil-ridden hands, and an ache so deep it put the sea to shame.

The song of her was as siren-dark as it always had been. Deep, haunting, and killing him slowly.

“I can’t say there is anything I would change,” he offered, “about this sanctuary.”

Elain was always most comfortable this way, speaking of plants, when other words could not be found. Or simply remained unspoken. It was a language they both knew well after countless late evenings at the townhouse. Plants were always a reason, or an excuse, they had to stay awake all night together.

That, it seemed, hadn’t changed.

“Are there any that you admire most tonight?” Elain asked quietly, stepping down a long wisteria corridor. He followed, unable to resist the urge. They slowly strolled, side by side, beneath a rippling sea of violet reverie.

Azriel motioned to a cluster of delicate flowers on the corridor’s trellis with notched, pale petals.  “This is one I admire often,” he murmured.

Night Phlox.

He knew as much from the library’s botanical volumes. Rich, detailed diagrams he was fond of combing through now again. He made a point to borrow those books every so often over the course of last winter. Just to know, just to understand the complexity of what exactly Elain was accomplishing that no one in the godsforsaken world seemed to notice.

Gardening was hellish work.

Elain finished her day bent, bleeding, and begrudgingly exhausted more often than not. No one seemed to recognize the toll it had on her. The least he could do was learn why she chose to undertake it all.

What he discovered, in the end, was that she liked the labor. She liked the marks the verdant battles left behind. She wanted to earn the beauty of a bloom, rather than being given it freely.

And Azriel began falling in love with her as a result.

“Phlox,” she offered, eyeing the flower and confirming his suspicion. “It has only just begun its course for summer, but soon you’ll see it everywhere I should think.”

“This, too, is rather taking,” Azriel strolled on, now admiring a pale blue primrose.

Elain nodded in agreement, tucking a curl behind her pointed ear. “Those are some of my favorites,” she admitted softly.

The pair crossed the end of the corridor, entering a secluded grove at the far end of the courtyard, lined with high walls of greenery. Azriel paused before a lush partition of fragrant, ivory flowers rustling in the wind.

“In regards to your question,” he murmured, “this is what captures me most,”

Elain’s gaze settled on the blooms and she swallowed, the moment hesitant.

“Jasmine,” she noted quietly. “Night blooming jasmine. Some call it poisonberry.”

“Lady of the night,” he added gently, looking at her now.

There was nothing in the world that carried a scent so lovely as that which lingered on her skin. This flower was making an honorable effort.

So there was no other choice, really.

He wondered if she knew, truly knew. And had a feeling she did.

Elain’s fingers brushed the soft petals. “What do you admire about it?” she asked carefully.

His throat bobbed.

“It is, of course, far more beautiful than the rest,” he said, brushing scarred knuckles over the jasmine stems. “But moreover it is prone to waking the moment the world stops paying attention. When all the world sleeps, this creature dreams,” he noted. “I find that rather…. alluring.”

“Alluring,” Elain repeated, a soft murmur.

He thought she might shy away, but she did not. He certainly would not. Not with her so near, and so decadent, and so sinfully lovely in the moonlight.

If that made him a self-serving bastard, so be it.

“You know more about plants than you let on, I think,” Elain muttered wryly.

Azriel’s mouth curled upwards. “You know more about most things than you let on.”

She shrugged, a grin now blossoming on her cheek, which might be the end of him. Elain was staring up at him now, openly. More pointedly, at the place just between his ear and his neck.

“You have them too,” she remarked.

Azriel swallowed, tracking her gaze. He realized she was speaking of the curls nipping against his skin, courtesy of the dew-kissed night.

“A gift from my mother,” he murmured back. “When it’s damp, anyway.”

His own eyes lingered on the ends of her long curls, pooled over her breasts, kissing against the small of her waist. Azriel craved every piece of her they could touch and he could not.

“I might also add that the scent of this particular flower is the only which bids me sleep at night,” he murmured, glancing to her beneath hooded eyes.

“Is that so?” she shifted marginally closer.

He nodded in return.

“Perhaps you might take some to bed,” she offered, eyes doe-wide. “I could cut a few stems for you.”

Azriel hesitated, but did not tear his gaze away. “Our High Lord may not approve.”

“Of taking a flower that soothes you to sleep?”

He swallowed.

“Of taking that which does not belong to me.”

Elain’s brow furrowed. She turned away, the rawness of those words having fracturing the fragile thing between them. He was desperate to have it back the moment it was gone.

She again regarded the wall of night-blooming jasmine.

“It’s true, jasmine has flowering patterns that are rather unusual. And if it is planted just days too early or too late in the season, it might wither before ever blooming. The plant is rather… delicate that way.”

“I’m not sure anything could quell the beauty of such a creature.”

Elain exhaled softly, bitterly. “I wish I had your confidence,” she uttered. “A great many enemies oppose the bloom. Disease, insects, unexpected shifts in weather- ” a pause. “I would have thought north of the wall they would be better adapted to the climate, but here, they face the same struggles they did in the human lands.”

Azriel measured the sadness in her eyes and hated himself for being the cause.

“Perhaps there are other foes aside from the usual elements contributing to their suffering,” he countered.

She looked at him keenly. “Such as?”

He swallowed, wondering how direct or indirect to be. And because he was exhausted and half in love with her, his brooding nature won out over reason.

“Invasive species taking root where they do not belong,” he muttered darkly. A terse pause. “Foxglove comes to mind.”

Elain seemed to bite back a laugh despite her own exhaustion.

“Yes invasives can indeed be problematic,” she tried and failed not to grin, “though only if the soil is willing to host them.”

Azriel swallowed, unwilling to muster a response that didn’t sound murderous.

Elain seemed to notice. And carried on gracefully, as she always did.

“I’ve found the soil of the night court rather unforgiving, anyway. When a plant roots here,” she met his eyes, “it is steadfast in its choice, no matter how ill-fated.”

His heart stopped beating for a moment.

Something aching reached for him from within her gaze, and it nearly split him in two. “What truly makes the bloom suffer most of all in the end is a lack of proper nourishment, Azriel,” she said quietly.

They weren’t speaking about jasmine anymore. They weren’t even speaking of jasmine to begin with.

He knew it. She knew it. And both seemed unable to look away.

“Why do you not find sleep?” he asked lowly.

Elain swallowed, lips parting with an answer that seemed stuck in her throat. She looked at him with soft eyes then.

“Why do you not?”

Silence followed. Heavy with sorrow and longing and all the rest.

“Elain,” his gaze shuttered, his voice barely audible.

“Was it-” she took a shaking breath, “-was it truly so wrong? So shameful to you?”

The words tore a true, gaping hole into his already-ruined heart. He stepped towards her instinctively, unable to keep from doing so.

“Nothing could be further from the truth.”

Hope bloomed eternal in her eyes and he needed to touch her again. The need was so arresting he couldn’t seem to move, on the brink of falling into an abyss.

Elain registered that need. And his inability to see it through.

So she took it upon herself to feed the need instead.

The bliss and agony of her touch was his undoing.

A gentle reach of her pale hands up to the base of his neck, resting her arms there as she twined his silk-black curls between her fingers. His hands snaked to her waist and relief coursed through him like nothing else at the warmth of her beneath his hands.

This is where she belonged.

Azriel lowered his head against hers, hazel eyes fluttering closed as that honey-rich, jasmine scent soothed every wrecked piece of him left jagged in her absence.

The silence between them fraught with a thousand lonely starlit nights.

“There it is,” Elain whispered.

Azriel murmured an inarticulate noise in question.

“The quiet,” she said, stroking the skin of his cheek. “How I’ve missed it, with you.”

She was incurably exquisite.

“I can’t,” he began, wondering if he was a fool for saying it aloud. “I can’t seem to share it with anyone else.”

“Nor can I,” she returned, without a moment’s pause.

A handful of words beneath the moonlight and he was already doing everything he swore to the forgotten gods he wouldn’t do again. Inhibition was a ghost on the wind.

Those gods had forsaken him long ago anyway.

He stayed like that for quite some time, with her beneath his hands. Listening to that blissful quiet. She stayed with him, hidden beneath the garden walls. Azriel had no idea how long they spent that way, but it would never be long enough. He opened his eyes again eventually.

And then, in those most endearing moment he had ever witnessed in five centuries of lonely brooding-

Elain yawned.

She haphazardly attempted to rub the sleep gathering in her eyes away before looking up to him softly.

He was ruined.

“I should bid you goodnight,” he murmured politely. His hands were still on her waist and they did not move.

“Should you?” she asked, taking her hand within his own.

This was by far the cruelest thing he had ever deigned to dream.

She pulled away, and every muscle in his body wailed in protest, though her hand was still wrapped in his own. Elain again studied the wall of jasmine with tired eyes.

“You say the scent helps you sleep,” she murmured. “You will not take it with you, so why not stay where it is strongest?”

Azriel knew he ought to contest, make some flimsy excuse, walk away.

“Elain-” he rasped, but the words went nowhere.

“Stay,” she whispered. “Just stay.”

Elain lowered herself to the garden floor, leaning against that wall of jasmine.

Two hours until dawn, and no fight left in him tonight.

Azriel succumbed to the pull of her small hand downwards. He sank to the ground, pressing his back against the wall of jasmine aside her.

Elain wasted no time. In a series of impossibly beautiful events, she curled into his lap- nestling her head against him and murmuring a sigh of relief as if she, too, needed this.

Her shawl was lumped haphazardly around her, so he carefully untangled it, wrapping it neatly before tucking her in close.

She stared up at him, and the stars in her eyes were no longer lost or lonely.

They were bright.

They were beautiful.

They were blooming.

The melody of her was immeasurably lovely, lulling his shadows back to slumber. A few of them began dancing over her skin, murmuring soft lullabies, enveloping them both from sight.

Elain loosened a soft, pleased noise at their sleepful sound.

“Do they always do this for you?” she asked carefully. “Sing you to sleep?”

“Often, yes.”

A quiet pause.

“Alluring,” she quipped.

His mouth quirked upwards and he ran a tender hand down the length of her back. As if this wasn’t a dream. As if she was his, and his alone, tonight.

Elain responded by gently reaching upwards to carefully tuck a single bloom of jasmine into the muss of his curls.

“I’d like to imagine feeling your shadows every night, like this,” she uttered, voice husky with sleep.

Azriel swallowed a low, strangled noise in his throat.

He took a long moment. Maybe two. She nestled closer to him, as if knowing why, finding his hand at her spine and encouraging it to stroke her all the way down once again.

“Do you know how often I’ve dreamt of you, this way?” Azriel’s words were quiet. His other hand now making its way to the base of her neck. He allowed his scent to wrap around her, truly, knowing he’d glamor it away by morning.

He wanted more, he wanted everything, but somehow, this was enough.

“I feel safe in my dreams with you,” is all she said in return. Sleep imminent in her voice. “I feel safer now than I ever have, I think.”

Fuck, that did something to him. Curled something low within him to life. Something male and possessive and needy and long since abandoned.

“You are safer with me than anyone else in this world.”

The words were a vow, carried on a dark wind. A promise that he would level the universe with cold fury to keep her from harm if need be.

His hand slipped to the root of her hair and her lips parted with a sigh as he tenderly rubbed the base of her neck.

“I know it’s impossible. I know the stars are set against it. But maybe we could just pretend,” she murmured softly.

“Pretend?” he echoed, his heart beating slowly now.

Elain looked up to him, eyes dazed with lost dreams.

“That we belong to one another.”

She was asleep in five minutes. Maybe less.

Azriel finally ran scarred fingers through her curls and savored every last moment as if they might be his last. There was nothing but the jasmine-sweet melody of her crooning in his ear. Pale and bright and spilling like moonlight over the darkest nights of his life.

In the last hour before dawn he lowered himself beside her, wrapping her fully into the warmth of his chest. He cradled Elain close, and she cradled him right back, hidden beneath a veil of greenery.

“Azriel,” Elain murmured, as the birds began their luting songs in the nearby trees. He hummed a quiet, deep noise in answer.

“I’m not pretending,” she whispered.

He pulled her close, closer than he knew was possible. And as the soft breath of dawn peeked over a far horizon, he did not let go.

“Neither am I,” Azriel whispered back.

[kidasthings]

How do you think Noa is going to react when he realizes his attraction to Mae? I guess it is going to be different as hers, as it would be more about loyalty towards his clan that he would be conflicted. It would be interesting to explore his feelings about it.

I am actually heading towards exploring that very thing in my fan fiction, Echoes of Eden.

*insert shameless plug* “Heeeey kids, if you want to read a unique interspecies romance between a human and chimp who aren’t exactly thrilled to discover they are harboring feelings for each other over a slow, simmering campfire, check out my pinned post on my Tumblr!”

*coughs*

Anyway, I think Noa, being so forgiving of Mae, would be the first one to recognize his feelings for what they are. Mae is a bit more emotionally suppressed given her background and mission. She has to be.

Back to Noa.

He’ll know it in his subconscious for a while as he admires Mae. Once he makes the conscious decision to admit he is attracted to her, he’ll analyze it for a little bit, turn it over in his head to see the soft, white underbelly, and then make the decision to pursue it based on Mae’s actions to that point. Given how they parted, he wants to trust her but can’t quite get there. Even if he is attracted to her and admits that to himself, he still has to get over that lack of trust.

If Mae shows she can be trusted in future films, he’d likely act on his attraction. I see him grabbing the back of her head, sinking his fingers into her braid, and pulling her in to touch foreheads. He would say something sentimental to make her confront her feelings, or at least be aware of them.

If she shows him she cannot be trusted, he will hang back and obviously not act on his attraction. He can’t.

It doesn’t make the attraction disappear or make his situation any easier. It turns tragic, actually, and that is where we can surmise the Romeo x Juliet dynamic will interfere with any true happy ending.

Question is, will Mae prove to be the protagonist for the apes, or the antagonist?

Time will tell.

[starslyt]

Confession of Sin (Impurities that Cannot be Washed away) - C. Lucilfer

WC: 2808

CW: dubious consent, shameless smut, Blasphemy, obsession, fucking in a church, virginity loss, blood mentions, Corruption, abuse of power, masturbation, public humiliation, face fucking, praise and degradation, age gap, breeding, forced pregnancy, sermons and biblical verses

Tags/AN: @cafekitsune (<3), minors for the god himself, do not interact.

only candle light lit the dim place up, it was hot and muggy inside, the smell of burnt wood could be smelled heavily aswell

"how many i help you?" chrollo asked looking at you with a little need and maybe a little want

"forgive me for i have sinned..." you choked out slightly getting on your knees as the man closed his Bible using the rosary to keep this place

——————————————

"hm.." chrollo hummed walking towards you "what are you confessing?" he asked as he stopped infront of her

the way the dress fell against your legs and thighs knowing dressing like a whore in a church wasn't the right thing to do

maybe it was a good thing church was closed today.

chrollo wouldn't want anybody to see him staring Needingly at the dumb girl who didn't notice how he stared at her

he had gotten very fond of you in the 3 minutes you had been standing in his church..at least he wanted to believe it was in that moment

you stayed silent and hesitated earning a slap across the face and your cheeks being grabbed harshly as tears swelled up in your eyes

"im not asking again." chrollo said again "i...i  touched myself...i touched my- ..a-and i liked it." you finally confessed

you wanted to be pure. but you failed at your own promise to yourself and the way chrollo seen it, broke your promise with God. you knew what you did was wrong but you couldn't help it

your fingers traced over your clothed clit in the dead of night as the moon shined on your body from your window. you couldn't even hold in you whimpers and moans of motivation towards yourself as you looked in the mirror which was right between your legs holding that deadly eye contact with yourself

you hadn't been touched like that in the many years you had been on this earth, you wanted that contact, you desperately craved it

your fingers wrapped around your own panties and pulled them down but you didn't take your eyes off yourself thinking the girl in the mirror was quite beautiful and stunning. you hoping that maybe you could fulfill those sinful desires of yours

licking two of your fingers with properly groomed nails that weren't too long but not short either, you rubbed your clit

the pleasure you felt was electric and erotic, you let out lewd moans and whimpers which were loud since you were so sensitive from pent up frustration and neglect

your pussy was glistening with the wetness you had previously and now mixed with your own salvia

it was so pretty. A gorgeous sight to see indeed. you were so tight and tiny. it was puffy and swollen from the years of neglect. there it was aching for any touch it could find

you held your lips apart with one hand and used your thumb on the other hand to rub that sensitive place

your bedroom would be filled with little babbles as your head was flooded with nothing but the pleasure as you begged and praised someone who wasn't there.

"p-please.. i-i wanna cum, i'll be s-such a good girl-"

who were you talking to? absolutely nobody but, who did you have in mind?

Chrollo. And only him. He were the reason for such sinful behavior from you. He struck something inside you.

He were the reason you were coming a such a siner. The way he'd give you looks when you was in the crowd, the way he would act like such a pervert towards you made him irresistible to you

"i-i wanna cum for you.." you whimpered out as your legs shook and your juices flowed out of you like the River of Eden as you cried from the pleasure

you couldn't handle the pleasure that was given from the orgasm you gave yourself in only 5 minutes

your liquids just didn't stop flowing out, you were overwhelmed. shaking. crying. and begging for it to stop but deep down you didn't want it to stop

you longed for the intense pleasure of having an orgasm but you cared about your relationship with God more than that.

your body couldn't handle the intensity of the pleasure therefore, you accidentally overstimmed yourself

"you're a sinner. nothing but a dirty lowlife." chrollo said forcing your chin out his hand harshly as it turned to the side

"who were you thinking about when you were playing with that pussy of yours darling?" he asked you as he snaked his hand under your dress rubbing straight on the sensitive clit if yours which made you tremble a little

"....you sir." you said melting into chrollo’s touch as his thoughts were correct, you had fallen for his game "such a dirty whore. You're so wet darling" Chrollo degraded you. you couldn't help but let that feeling move straight to your cunt

"O Almighty God,..." chrollo started to say as he unbuckled his pants and forcing you on your knees to suck his dick. his cock spring out as chrollo looked down at you with a little smirk letting his eyes say all the words he needed to say

you immediately engulfed his huge cock. you gagged and choked out and let out little whimpers as tears fell out of your eyes. He felt sorrow for you. you had never felt the pleasure you wanted to feel. you wanted to feel something so far inside you that you saw stars

To feel something so far down your throat that you gagged and cried. to have something fill your mouth with such bitter,salty taste

chrollo let out low grunts as he pushed himself down your throat as you chocked and gagged more but you wanted to make him proud

"merciful Father,.." he started again "look at you taking my dick like good slut. You look so pretty" he praised as he pushed himself deeper as more tears fell down your pretty cheeks

chrollo could feel your teeth grazing on his veins but it only added to the cuteness of seeing you struggle with such a big cock down your throat

"C'mon baby, can't you do something right? I can feel your teeth on my cock sweetie. You're not supposed to use your teeth. You can't be that fucking stupid darling"

"You can't think that this is enough can you? This is such a piss poor job, here let me help you. My dumb girl" chrollo said as he opened your mouth wider as he pushed himself even deeper down your throat

chrollo was pushing limits but he didn't care "see? It's not that hard to please me princess. God you're adorable" your pretty sparkly eyes still gleamed in faltering innocence

Even with a cock so far down your throat you couldn't breathe properly anymore and that was when chrollo knew he was in love— obsessed with you risking air just to please him without complaining

"fu- 'm gonna cum pretty baby, be a good girl and swallow it- wait, you don't have a choice" chrollo laughed sadistic as he came down you throat. you soon felt him come out with a 'pop' from your lips

your head had been deprived of oxygen for so long that your head was spinning and was seeing double. you felt the boy grab your hand and walk over to the podium stand and behind you, over the podium right under, the huge stained glass window of Jesus that looked over the church, specifically looking down at the podium

"I, a poor.. miserable sinner," chrollo said putting your underwear to your ankles as you were finally getting what you wanted from the start, to have chrollo’s cock buried so deep inside you

but were you really ready?

"wait..." the girl cried out but it was too late. before you could finish Chrollo had pushed himself in your virgin cunt making you yelp as he stretched you out as your eyes filled tears

Although you cried, he took no pity towards you, in fact, he pushed himself even deeper than before going faster just to see even more pretty tears on your cheeks. he knew what you wanted.

"this is what happens when you let corrupt your sacred garden, it gets used for its fruits and nothing more, my pretty little whore" chrollo explained as she let out cry

chrollo stretching out your tight little cunt with his cock causing him to break you hymen or pop you cherry making you bleed

chrollo pulled out a little bit to see his cock coated in your pure blood, he licked his lip at the sight. he used his hand to spread the blood around evenly, planning to use it as a substitute for lube, he didn’t wanna hurt his pretty girl too badly

chrollo harshly and roughly shoved his cock back into you as a slight squelch sound could be heard from you pretty hole, Chrollo popped his fingers in his mouth

You weren’t the first he’d done this too and you most certainly wasn’t going to be the last. Chrollo relished in taking the virginity of girls. tasting them, worshipping them

but you were different. your blood had a particularly different taste. it consisted of purity. real innocence that wasn’t being faked. Chrollo relished in that flavor letting it explore his mouth, why would he do something so weird? he couldn't tell you but he'd do it again.

maybe if chrollo waited a couple weeks until he fucked you again maybe then you’d be tight enough to stretch out again and make you bleed for him again

chrollo was in awe, his cock felt so good buried inside you. you were squeezing down on him so tightly his fingernails dug into your hips

"confess to You," Chrollo said as he continued to pound the girl from the back harshly. your screams and sobs of pleasure and pain, you didn't except loosing your virginity would hurt that badly. you had an idea but this was way more than you could’ve fathomed

maybe it was just chollo’d size that made it painful? It was big enough to stretch the hole of a whore all over again

maybe that's the reason.

"all my sins and iniquities," Chrollo continued as he watched how your eyes would water and those tears would fall with each thrust. you were already so very sensitive from last night. you wasn't going to last long

"Chrollo-..please." you whimpered out with loud little cries as you were approaching your orgasm as he hit all the right spots inside you as your head flooded with nothing but pleasure once again feeling that same feeling you felt last night but more intensely and internal

"p-please, i'll be such a good girl for you, sir.. " you babbled out. your eyes were rolling back into your head. you looked so fucked out and pretty but it wasn't up to you. you had no say. chrollo wasn't going to give you one either.

you were under his control now and Chrollo loved it that way. The way you'd melt at his touch and jolted at his glaze. you truly were absolutely adorable.

maybe you didn't believe in this so called "God" anymore, some guy that lived in the sky with the clouds, to you, he seemed a bit selfish; why make feeling such an pleasureful experience a sin?

as you leaned your head back you saw the glass window of the man you worshipped like your life depended on it, it does. the man who would give you salvation and in the end, keep your soul safe. protected by the angels

the look of peace and security twisted into a look of judgment and disgust through clouded eyes, although the expression on his face never changed visibly

As of now you couldn't remember a thing. That pain turned to pleasure eventually and you moans got even louder and desperate as you babbled out lewd words and phrases unconsciously

In and out of that pleasurable headspace hearing nothing but white noise, which resulted in no thoughts just the hyper fixation of the feeling of Chrollo’s cock pushing in and out quickly

But it wasn't enough, "h-harder ..." you’d cry out as your face turned away from him in embarrassment as Chrollo put his hand under your neck and forced you to look up at him as he went harder just like you wanted causing you to let out a high pitched moan from the electric feeling

Chrollo had to admit you looked like an angel underneath him, moaning and whimpering like a slut, his slut

your drool running down from those pretty  lips down to your chin made you look even sinful than you were before

"daddy please- ah..fuck!" you whimpered as he pounded faster as you squirted on him. that creamy pussy of yours leaving a ring around his base they dripped down to his balls. you whimpered loudly squirming trying to get away from him but oh no he wasn't going to stop now matter now many times you pleaded and begged. Even pushed him away only for him to grab you and push you down even more.

“now now princess, you can take it right? don’t you wanna make me proud, angel?” chrollo coo’d in your ear as you let out a whine “yes-ahh, i wanna make you so proud”

a smile formed on his lips at your words. to be quite honest, all he wanted from you was a a quick nut and maybe a baby

"with which I have ever offended you," Chrollo continued and got rougher as he wanted his dick get clenched around your insides

he sent a hard smack against your ass that made you cry even harder and was definitely going leave a mark on you, as if your neck and shoulders weren't already marked up with bites and hickeys

Chrollo lifted your leg up on the podium and went faster, he was now chasing his own high as you was in pure heaven, seeing your vision go blurry as you rested your head on the podium

your pretty noises got louder as you were enjoying this new position but you were so sensitive it started to hurt but that didn’t stop the pleasure from fronting but you would do anything to make Chrollo happy.

after all, you did let him let him take your virginity and the two of you weren’t even married but you allowed him anyways

Chrollo felt his high coming, feeling your warm walls tighten around him- only at the mere thought of cumming together was enough to send you both over the edge

"i-i'm not on birth control or anything so pullout" you explained but Chrollo did not falter. he kept thrusting hitting your cervix as you heard nothing but another sadistic  laugh from him in return

"you're gonna have my baby darling. why would i pull out?, you're gonna be my Mary alright? so take like a good little slut does, you're doing such a good job for me, my angel"

you didn't have time to protest, the acceptance came when Chrollo came deep inside your cervix with a grunt and you a whimper when you finally got the praise you craved from him

"and justly deserved your punishment, " he continued to thrust in you making sure his cum would be planted deep inside of you, he wanted to make sure that you were going to have a kid, his kid, no matter what.

"now, " he continued on with his prayer for you as he pulled out refusing to look at you as he bent down to watch his cum drip out your cunt, Chrollo stared graciously at the sight with a smile

you stayed in that same position for quite sometime trying to catch you breath and actually think about what just happened but it was all just a blur to you but you'll always remember this day. whenever you’d looked at Chrollo and the baby you were going to be bred with

Chrollo was so ready for his favorite girl in the congregation to have his baby. the one who was too shy to look at him, speak to him and even be around him, who now had his cum dripping; mixed with your fluids; down your leg and on the floor. the mere thought could make him have a round 2 with you

"and forever, " Chrollo said as he pulled up your panties which were now stained with sin, blasphemy and no regrets

"Amen."

[armandsfangs]

a Devil's Minion playlist / my headcanon timeline of Armand and Daniel's relationship progression from San Francisco to Dubai and further

1. San Francisco 1973

Tell Me I'm Alive - All Time Low

Monster - RIELL, Raven Link

Carnivore - STARSET

7 Minutes in Hell - Against The Current

2. The Start of the Chase

My Stranger - Egzod, RIELL

Bloodletting (The Vampire Song) - Concrete Blonde

The Only Time - Nine Inch Nails

Do You Want Me (Dead?) - All Time Low

3. Hatesex or Something More?

Sleeping With a Vampire - Middle And End

Flesh - Simon Curtis

Nightmare - Besomorph, RIELL

Victim - Halflives

Vicious - Bohnes

Killer - The Ready Set

Kiss Me You Animal - Burn The Ballroom

I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE - Måneskin

Bruises & Bitemarks - Good With Grenades

Hate Me - Nico Collins

4. Blood Drinking

Blood - Altessa

Drugs & Candy - All Time Low

Nicotine - Panic! At The Disco

Addict (Pop Goes Metal Cover) - Jacob Takanashi, Dave Capdevielle

5. Obsessive Love

I Don't Care - Fall Out Boy

D is for Dangerous - Arctic Monkeys

What He Don't Know - Anarbor

Dead Man Walking - City Wolf

Love Me Dead - Ludo

Take It - Unknown Brain, ThatBehavior, RIELL, J.O.Y

Blindfold - Sleeping Wolf

Shameless - TommyMuzzic

Skeleton - Set It Off

Alone Together - Fall Out Boy

Six Feet Under The Stars - All Time Low

Messed Up - Once Monsters, Chloe Adams

The Horror Of Our Love - Ludo

To Tell You The Truth - Written By Wolves

6. Daniel's Bella Swan Bitching

I'm Not A Vampire - Falling In Reverse

Telepathic - STARSET

Over and Over - Three Days Grace

For You Forever - Set It Off

7. Paris Proposal & Memory Wipe 1985

champagne problems - Taylor Swift

Filthy Pride - Social Repose

Daylight - Heuse, WOLFHOWL, RIELL

8. Armand Can't Stay Away From Daniel

The Secret To Saying Goodbye - Hot Milk

End In Tragedy - Set It Off

Blood In The Cut - K.Flay

9. Missing Each Other (Subconsciously)

glimpse of us - emlyn

Still Here - Digital Daggers

Ghost - KevinWithAY, 666Linus666, Jjdroy

10. The 2022 Interview (With Armand Pining In The Background)

Silhouette - Aquilo

Unknown / Nth - Hozier

Flu Game - Fall Out Boy

Monster Made of Memories - Citizen Soldier

11. Daniel Remembering Devil's Minion Era

From Eden - Hozier

When We Were Young - Andy Black, Juliet Simms

A Love Like War (feat. Vic Fuentes) - All Time Low

The Kintsugi Kid - Fall Out Boy

Some Kind of Disaster - All Time Low

12. Daniel's Turning

The Killing Kind - Marianas Trench

Pretty Venom (Interlude) - All Time Low

The Only Exception - Paramore

The Only One - All Time Low

13. Armand's Absence & Daniel's Vampiric Adolescent Pining

The Only Place I Call Home - Every Avenue

DIE FOR YOU - STARSET

Twin Skeleton's (Hotel In NYC) - Fall Out Boy

Frequency - STARSET

Hold Me Like a Grudge - Fall Out Boy

Every High Has A Come Down - Anarbor

Starlight - STARSET

14. Reunion of the Devil and his Minion

Hymn to Virgil - Hozier

Venice Bitch - Lana Del Rey

Francesca - Hozier

Young and Beautiful - Glass Animals

Take My Pain Away - Anarbor

[aziraphales-library]

Could I recommend a few of my own fics perhaps? I’m quite proud of them, especially my two more niche AUs. No problem if shameless self promo isn’t a thing on here though! Thank you for all that you do.

The fics are; Pull Up the Ladder When the Flood Comes (3 chapters, 17k); iwgbysasbsooi (the name was too long to write the whole thing out lmao) (6 chapters, 25k); my cat AU Strays on the Street (13 chapters, 54k); and my human AU, Coffee Breath (6 chapters, 29k words).

There’s a variation of angst, fluff, and some smut in the last one! ❤️ I have many others as well, with the full link of my stories here. 🥰

Self promo is not only allowed, it is actively encouraged!...

Pull Up the Ladder When the Flood Comes by midnightdragons (T)

What sort of backwards world was it – that the Almighty God and Her angels, who were meant to be the kind, the Holy, the good, were leaving innocent people, innocent children to die, were the bringers of their deaths? How was it that a demon, the lowest of the low, the scum of the earth, the literal damned Serpent of Eden, had been the only one to spare those innocent lives a glance; who had assured the mothers that it would be alright as they handed their children to him, who had sworn to them with everything he had that he would protect them? How was it that the one who was supposed to be the embodiment of everything evil had been the one to rescue innocent children from the wrath of God Herself? (Or: Crawley saves children during the Flood in Mesopotamia, and finds himself in an even more jeopardizing situation as he seeks out shelter. Aziraphale struggles with his own internal conflict, but attempts to help all the same.)

i wanna grab both your shoulders and shake, baby (snap out of it) by midnightdragons (T)

“Hello, demon,” said the angel coolly, tilting his head to one side and grinning broadly in a crude imitation of Aziraphale’s warm, comforting smile – and it took Crowley perhaps half of a second to decide in certainty that this angel was absolutely not Aziraphale.

Two hundred and seventy-three days. That was how long it had been since Crowley had seen Aziraphale, how long it had been since the angel had left him, how long it had been since he had yanked the angel into that horrible, awful, desperate kiss, a plea disguised as an act of undying love. And now, on the two hundred and seventy-fourth night, he finally reunited with . . . someone. Someone who looked like Aziraphale, and sounded like Aziraphale, but was – and Crowley knew this with every fiber of his trembling being – not his angel. Crowley isn’t the only one who needs saving.

Strays on the Street by midnightdragons (T)

The black tomcat eyed the Aziraphale from his perch, his long, thin tail flicking with apparent disapproval. His jaws stretched in a wide yawn, and his yellow eyes blinked slowly. With them closed, he could be mistaken for a shadow on the backdrop of a brick wall. “Who’re you, then?” He asked in a gravelly, hoarse voice that suggested disuse. His words were stated rather rudely, and he did not move, save for the flicking tip of his tail, and the flexing of his hind claws. Aziraphale nervously padded closer. The wiry black tom looked quite hostile, from the way his thin fur was prickling along his spine, but this was the first cat he had seen ever since his human had (accidentally) left him behind, and he needed to take this chance. Even if he had to handle a little rudeness.

Crowley is a long-abandoned, hardened street cat, angry and wary and guarded against anyone intruding on the fragile peace he had carved out for himself. Aziraphale is an anxious housecat, who's just wondering why his owners had thrown him to the streets. He's certain it must've be some sort of mistake. (Ineffable Husbands AU: they're cats. This is as ridiculous as it is angsty.)

Coffee Breath by midnightdragons (M)

He stared, mouth half-open, at the stranger he had collided with, and became momentarily frozen in place as his barreling heart caught up to his fretting mind. The (man? woman? neither? well, there was a he/they pin clasped to their sweater, so at least he had that to go off of) person who he had just crashed into, knocked onto their arse, and made spill coffee all over their things, was undeniably and irrevocably the most gorgeous creature Aziraphale had ever laid eyes on in his entire life. Just his luck.

A rather cliche but cute human AU story with bookshop owner!Aziraphale, plant shop owner!Crowley, and a meet-cute involving spilt coffee, with angst but also lots of fluff because we all need a cute little story sometimes. Featuring a bonus chapter with their "first time."

- Mod D

[opheliann-darling]

𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠.

Yandere Suguru Geto x female reader.

Synopsis: Blessings form in many shapes; including love.

TW: Objectification, discrimination, Isolation, forced pregnancy.

enjoy.

It is divine to think how hell would be regarded into grotesquely crimson images within the human imagination: Sufferance is too common, wounds as a thorn prick and lasts as a heart's ache, Yet consider this when we think of heaven: purity- innocence of Eden in its prime, everything that sources its beauty and continence from a glass sphere no soul ever stepped on, farthest from the nearest paradise which we -so far- know of. Every now and then, the glass sphere's page of the sky would rain glossy drops, bright in the charm of a moon's haze, kissing earth's soil ever so gently after a long fall through the dark space. The drop; a seed of everything that derives all good in this life, either blooms into flowers, little joys that are worth living for, or even people- lost angels on devil's land.

Suguru believes he has an eye for perfection: the images of others reflect on his irises and pass, be a fragment of a forgotten dream and ghost in a corner within his anamnesis. life ought to be lived as a sort of a sweven, destined to be erased once the reaper sinks in its teeth; Not like you have much of an option as a sorcerer, you just keep fantasizing and drawing rose-colored glasses about a life you know you can't have, sighing when conjuring a dear friend's lineaments, feeling a warmth under an eyelid when a beloved's smile flickers through a faint image of cogitation. a needle of duty had sewed up every passage to his heart; there was no horizon to look up to, except that one of exorcising curses to no end, saving that little part of happiness that was rightfully his to others who already had a fair share of it.

Suguru would burn the candles of thought and wander around a series of scenarios: what would it be like to love? What color is romance and what taste are kisses? There must be a reason why the moon was put on a pedestal of artistry, or a color of blood to abridge all tongues and words of ardor. There had to be a reason why someone was so eager and willing to hand their hearts on a platter to someone else, someone who was looked upon as the apple of eye. It seemed absurd: humans are merely products of vice, planted to sin and harvested to destroy, every letter and word they utter weighs nothing heavier than a lie, So why would such a morbid creature empty the jar of heart on another morbid creature? It is a wounding, shameless lie.

Cease to feel and halt to sense, there was no meaning in draining the amphora of emotion on someone, a one who can't taste curses to know how much of a grace it's devouring. it's pointless to break the glass of heart over a bod that ignores your agony to indulge in its little world of pink lies. He just wishes- Only if, if he slices that part of him that screamed of humanity everyday, the part that made him extend a wing to shield the helpless from their demise… He hated having a heart.

Once during a green summer, one that had a breeze of May and the pink warmth of Valentine's day, The sphere wrapped a blessing in a curse's fabric; a gift so pristine it competed with the glimpses of eternity with a smile and tore the horizon's edge with a kiss, a form of life that its existence on this cursed land was the vilest injustice ever committed towards its chastity. The Angel; now blossoming from the sphere's seed into a human with flesh and blood, nerves and bones, eyes and a beating heart, is left to be stained and tarnished, munched and swallowed by the imperfect- the bad seeds, the swirl of everything evil. a tear of a curse could lace a sea of blessings, and you had to be protected: from the serpents, the devils, the flawed, or anyone else that wasn't him.

"Y'know, Suguru, sometimes when I look through your eyes, I can see you fighting yourself, as if you were your own worst enemy" You started the conversation like this, so casually, with no hint or intention of digging too deep into his psyche.

July, casting blazing rays and nearly melting the shadows outside, while the pair of you decided to remain in class for no obvious purpose. Suguru didn't mind having you around, aware that you weren't going to engage in tittle-tattling, leaving him with the room to think. It's been a long year.

With a strike of sudden concern, and maybe a little suspicion, He directs his whole posture towards you, noticing your relaxed position on the seat beside his. a silence of something that was about to begin stretched before he asked "What do you mean?"

a Winter night smile drew itself on your lips. In a movement of Bonnie Parker leaning on her motorcycle, you faced his confused comportment, rolling your eyes playfully before replying "You thought that no one would notice? That's cute. but I must admit, you're so good at hiding it, even Satoru wasn't able to see it, I'm surprised!" something brightened in your expression, contradicting the words you just said. As if you were Suguru's Anima; you spoke so confidently, insisting on extracting a part you didn't like of him.

And that confidence stirred a certain sentiment within him. something he would see as… vulnerability?

He stared.

Another silence, silence of an absurd play, one that the audience certainly didn't need to absorb the scene.

You continued "Amanai was a human like any other, someone with dreams and hopes, fears and triggers, and a family- and a lot of friends. she lived her life to the fullest… Well, maybe not completely, but at least she had some taste of blessing before her death. people aspire to horizons, living enough to reach it and sometimes not, savoring both sweet and bitter times before kicking the bucket. But that's not what we're talking about here"

His eyes couldn't get any wider, the images played slowly and vividly while the cassette of that memory didn't seem to stop.

"She's a vessel that can be replaced. Lord Tengen wasn't in that need for her anyway. But are we sorcerers any better? no. we're replaceable as well, unless you are Satoru, which we aren't. Yes, we are strong, but still replaceable. The Jujutsu world needs to continue existing or else cursed spirits will blow everything to bits, and of course, we're the only ones who can keep it going and exorcise these creatures."

Your fingers twiddled with your necklace, rolling it slowly as your tongue flowed. "I wanted to go everywhere too, I wanted to have a lot of friends to love without worrying that they'll die at any second. I wanted to wander around and behold flowers and snow without seeing an ugly cursed spirit…"

His tongue wouldn't unwrap, au contraire to his thoughts. his mind moved as fast as forgetfulness would spell, drinking in all of your heart's tears. Perhaps, after all, he wasn't the only one who awakened to a harsh knowledge.

You, are special.

"It's not fair… why should I be the one who gives up on their happiness to save people who know nothing of my sacrifices…"

"I-.." your rant comes to a halt, a veil of guilt slides down your expression.

"Sorry… I didn't mean to remind you of… back then, I talked too mu-"

"No." He interrupts, his usual resting face painted over.

"You can continue, I understand you…" Suguru smiles.

Ever since the curtain on your heart was pulled, you seemed to confide in him more; drifting away from Satoru and Shoko slowly and subtly. He didn't want to think of it, yet these pages of poems and lines of serenades whispered something to him everytime he looked through you. She must be unhappy too, Unhappy people are sensitive to the unhappiness of others¹. and to confess, it balmed a little comfort on his soul to see that misery brought you together. Day by day, both of you would speak for hours, crafting an imaginary horizon where everything was a haven for a winsome world, goodwills falling like spring rain. Night by night, He who becomes the one to count the nights, scripting his nightdreams and rehearsing his hopes to a shadow of you that lingered in the corners, only for every word to blend into space once the daybreak spills through the clouds.

Your voice; it is the voice of his mind now. The shadow of you is melodizing his thoughts and troubles of the heart, lulling his reveries and caroling his visions. The pages of romance flip like petals in the wind: as the silk of your vocal cords tailors the letters with red and pink, he is finally allowed to relish the true colors of so-called love. Yozo² is no longer fool in Suguru's thinking, for wanting to die alongside the one he loved, which Suguru Geto himself now, secretly, hopes to achieve with you.

"Have you ever thought about death?" Green-colored smile, surely wasn't grayed by anything. Suguru just thought, what did you think? Did you want to be with him no matter the place?

The roles have been reversed. now you're the silent one; you were sure that you did talk too much that day, pouring your wounds into him that now they're his wounds. Guilt stinged your heart, only if you remained silent back then.

"Um- yes, I'm already accepting it, we're sorcerers after all…" you struggled to compose a thought he'd like, it came out as what a child attempting wisdom would say. speaking to your friend has become a difficult task lately, you didn't want to lose the thread of thinking you shared together, and he seemed quite pleased to talk to you.

He chuckled.

"Never thought of making it better for yourself at least?"

What…

"I used to think so too. But slowly, I'm finally able to see what I was too blinded to see. Remember when you said that you wanted to have a lot of friends and go everywhere? that's rightful of you to ask- but you can't get it whether you plead for it or not. I'm telling you; I know it very well when I say you can have everything you want if you step up and take control." stated he.

As if looking for any other person who seems to notice that there's something odd, you glanced around. nothing was in sight except the trees and grass of the long forest line.

His face didn't move when he continued "You see, we forgot that we were stronger, smarter and more skilled than the ordinary, say evolution theory: creatures go through a long process of development to become advanced in brain and muscle. some reach the highest stage of development and become a human, while others simply stop in the middle or never start, thus remaining monkeys"

For some reason, you imagined yourself operating on his brain: cleaving the front of his skull with a sharp scalpel, lifting up his scalp in a way a box of chocolates would be opened, unwrapping and milling his brain convolutions, looking through his memory and mind's eye to see when and where these ideas have crossed his mind so you can uproot them- it is your fault, you filled him with so much tangles for a sweetly simple soul as him.

"...And since monkeys can't survive on their own, we were the ones who would acquire and use their talents to establish Jujutsu and save them, doing it out of kindness and altruism, they give us curses and we cure them in response, continually and with no recognition of our merit…"

Something in his eyes twitched; he sounded as if he was letting go of an ancient burden, the Messiah's cross thrown off by his back.

"... You, me, Satoru or anyone who uses Jujutsu is the purest form of life on this earth, we're destined to rule as much as we were to protect, to punish as we were to love. we sorcerers are chosen by the heavens…"

"...Monkeys must die." the corners of his mouth were altered to a frantic excitement, seeming like he'd seen after years of being dim sighted.

It is a blessing to be ignorant.

It started out subtly. Suguru would continue smiling- the line and twist on his face metamorphosed into one you have no knowledge of: it was strange, uncannily simple and eerily sweet, more of looking at a portrait of a goner and less of seeing a friend. His compassion faded, a mock-lively kindness replaced it, by the nature a moonlight would mimic a sunray's warmth. it is not change, nor epiphany; your friend was dying with no hearse set or heart settled- Suguru slept to no awakening so the priest in Gojo-gesa can breathe to every aspect of life.

Eyes that used to behold the blessings in everything are now glaring with violence, gnashing its teeth to whoever and whatever didn't wield any cursed energy. it is visible for you to only see, all of the ink and blood jarred behind his eyes, masked perfectly and contained in a patient smile he wore to his subjects— our subjects darling! he would say, giving you a saddened look, as if his gift of a thousand obedient monkey wasn't enough to thrill you as much as it did to him.

“You know how much I love you, right?” he murmured, holding your hand. your eyes pierced the reflection on the vanity glass: a husband and a wife sharing an intimate moment, scenery of a devoted Genji holding a torn Fujitsubo³ and kissing away all of her distress. you switched your sight towards his hand, the one that stroked yours, the one that had on its ring finger a silver band twirled.

“And I'm willing to offer you everything I have, anything you want” He placed a kiss on the crown of your head, billing and cooing in his words “I just ask for a little smile in return, or a little ‘thank you’ for everything I do to us”

“You're taking advantage of innocent people, Suguru”

He scoffs “Are they really that innocent?! All they do is cause destruction and corruption. you're too kind to even call them people” the last word dropped like a glob of mercury, heavy and tarnishing. he's annoyed for sure that you ruined the romantic mood by mentioning monkeys yet again.

“You're murdering people who came to you for help, Suguru…”

You saw it without looking at it, the flash of rage and loathing, with all its redness and heat a fire had less or more of. you hoped in despair ,maybe there's still the lingering blush of compassion in his heart; the comity of your dear friend Suguru, not the hatred of your husband the monk. His fist flew in front of your face, grabbing your chin and rotating your skull to his penetrating eyes. for a second, a thread was pulled in your chest, cutting your heart with a feeling of fear, was he about to strike you?

“I told you thousands of times… those you cry for so much are. not. people. Do you understand me?!” He pressed on each word, heavy breath fanning your face. you could only look back and try not to recoil under his gaze.

“They ruin our lives, they kill us, they cause suffering and they taint this earth with their filthy emotions… if it wasn't me who gets rid of them and cleans their trash, only heaven knew how much time left for us to live…” he digs his nails into your flesh, gritting his teeth at you “They made you unhappy, they tried to kill me while I was risking my life to save them everyday!” he raised his hands in the air, snarling with full volume. you're sure that Nanako and Mimiko are in another room hearing, and utterly aware of their agreement and devotion to Suguru.

Frantically, he unwrapped his Gojo-gesa and threw it on the floor, shooting you a glare while he freed himself from the sleeves of his haori. his stare kept lining yours, and when he stripped from the white hada-juban, you've seen it, as if at first sight.

“Shouldn't a wife support her husband?! Why do I feel like everything else except for me matters to you?!” He yelled. it is not the first time you see the scar on his chest, in fact, you've seen it too many times that its lines were as familiar as the dimness of your eyelids.

“Whom am I doing this all for?! for us! for our family! they're just like us, they've been belittled and cursed by monkeys and they had their happiness snatched brutally from their hands… all just because they were sorcerers” he calmed, yet not eased judging by how sharp his expression was. He dropped his arms to his side, reaching to cup your face and force you to see his eyes “You were hurt too… you begged me to save you years ago… you do remember the day we sat together in class and talked”

You do remember.

The echo of that hour reverberated through his eyes. in their dark shade, you watched a reflection of yourself, helpless and gray, sew the first threads of his insanity. you wished if life had been a little more cruel and tore off your tongue before you ever got the chance to speak with him.

It's you who chiseled the priest.

He feathered a finger across your cheek, crooning honey “And you remember our dates too, all the kisses and embraces, our wedding and our nights together…” serene as a sea in spring, animating the past into a sweet lull. his eyes smiled to you, cording your heart when continuing “You love me, you love our family, our paradise— and him” His palm spidered to your stomach, stroking the node of flesh “You would never abandon him, would you?”

Can you even? He sojourned far in, tethered to you through a wall of flesh with a string stretching inside of him. the memory of his existence would carve lines in both of your bodies even after his birth.

“You're so selfless, that's why I fell for you darling” whispered he, drinking your silence in taste of obedience. Was there any release from the cuffs you wrapped around your own wrists? Suguru wasn't an imprisoner, he just smelted a bracelet you wished to wear, eager to please and in hunger for your praise, while you, in words and smiles, altered his brain to see in dark color.

“Why don't you say you love me?” he coated demand with love, pouring foam on your ears in a whisper.

Your skin felt light underneath, like you could walk out of it as a coat. In times like these, when he gave affection and demanded it back, you could only say one thing, unlike a full colored prism of flirtation he can murmur to you.

“I love you so much, Suguru…” at first, saying it was like uprooting a rotting tooth, but as time passed and your tongue knew the taste of lying, it became like picking a fruit.

He smiled “Good girl…”

His eyes glinted in red “...I love you too…”

[khywren]

「 Garden of Eden : Chapter 4 」

summary: “If you were just bedding me out of obligation because I let you have my blood, then that's not what I want. I don't want to take advantage of you like that.”

The admission compels Astarion throw his head back and let out a bark of mirthless laughter. The noise sounds harsh to Tav's ears, so un-Astarion like that it almost frightens her.

The irony of it all is not lost on Astarion.

pairing: Astarion/f!Reader | Astarion/f!Tav rating: 18+ MDNI status: 6/10 tags/warnings: blood drinking, explicit sexual content, porn with plot, drunk sex, smut, toxic coping mechanisms, depictions of violence/abuse, hurt/comfort, mild angst, frenemies to lovers, word count: 2.8k spoiler warning: full story will contain spoilers for all 3 acts of the game.

a/n: chapters will be posted individually. crossposted from AO3. links to other chapters: [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ]

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In the week that followed the celebrations with the tieflings, the party had finally made it to the Underdark, following a rather disastrous affair at the Rosymorn Monastery.

Despite Lae'zel's insistence that the Zaith'isk would be capable of cleansing the illithid parasites, it had nearly killed her instead, leaving the group’s only other lead to seek the source of the tadpoles at Moonrise Towers.

The journey would be perilous, but nothing moreso than anything else they had yet faced.

Presently, Gale, Halsin and Tav sit around the crackling fire, the embers dancing as they cast long shadows across the camp. The wizard regales them with his knowledge of the local flora and fauna, explaining in minute detail which plants are edible and which are strictly to be avoided.

For his part, Halsin seems quite fascinated, and Tav is more than happy to let him talk; his voice is a welcome distraction from her thoughts.

Ever since the night of the tiefling party, Tav had let Astarion feed on her at his request, sneaking off with him after everyone else was asleep or otherwise occupied to let him drink his fill.

They had not spoken of what had happened between them that night, and although Astarion had maintained his shameless flirting with her, Tav had resigned herself to the fact that it was best to keep things strictly platonic between them.

Well, as platonic as letting a vampire drink your blood could be, at any rate.

Still, that hadn't stopped Astarion from trying to taste more than just her blood. If Tav had thought he was being genuine, she would have been more than happy to let him do as he pleased, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that he was still keeping secrets from her.

It wouldn't have been the first time, after all.

When Gale sweeps his eyes over her to gauge if she’s still paying attention, Tav smiles kindly at him, but she notices a flicker of movement in the shadows over his shoulder. She easily recognizes Astarion’s lithe form as he reaches the edge of camp, casting a sidelong glance at her that she has become all too familiar with by now.

Tav stands up and pats her hands on her pants to smooth the fabric and politely excuses herself. As she heads across the camp after Astarion, she overhears a few hushed whispers between Halsin and Gale; the druid murmurs something wistfully poetic about “the beauty of young love.” Tav feels her face redden, and she hurries away before they say any more unflattering things about her and Astarion’s habitual late night rendezvous.

It wasn’t like she bothered hiding the evidence of his feeding anymore, but still she wanted to make at least some effort to spare her dignity around camp and not loudly advertise her personal affairs. The strange, judgmental looks they’d all given her the first time they realized what had been happening had dealt a deadly enough blow to her ego.

When she had spoken with Halsin before, Tav had not been completely forthright with him about exactly what the nature of her relationship with Astarion was, but he had listened patiently nonetheless and offered her what advice he could. “Stay true to your heart, little one,” he had told her, “and he will see the light that shines within you.”

It hadn’t been the first time someone had told her to just ‘be herself’ – it was precisely that behavior that had gotten her into this whole mess to begin with. It was an easy thing to suggest when you were as charismatic as Halsin.

After a short walk down the winding trail that leads out of their camp, Tav finally spots Astarion standing on the precipice of a small cliff that overlooks a forest of enormous mushrooms, each one at least three meters wide. He’s observing them intently, perhaps lost in his own thoughts.

Tav calls out to him as she nears, his face composed and thoughtful as he turns to regard her.

As she nears, him, the ground beneath her feet shifts without warning, and as she loses her balance Tav reaches out for the only thing within arm’s length; even as she bunches her hands up in Astarion’s tunic, she stumbles backwards, dragging him with her as she topples over the edge of the cliff.

Although the fall is mercifully short, Tav lets out a cry as her back collides with the nearest mushroom cap and Astarion lands gracelessly on top of her; the massive fungi wavers slightly but holds their weight without issue.

“Darling,” Astarion murmurs playfully, his voice low and sultry as he shifts his weight and leans over her, “if you wanted so badly to get on your back for me, there are far subtler ways to go about it.” 

Although he hadn't planned for events to play out in such a manner, the development is not an unwelcome one, and Astarion is nothing if not resourceful.

He sweeps his eyes over Tav's face, amused by the look of embarrassment he finds etched across every feature. She's blushing prettily for him as she so often does, her face such a lovely tint of pink that creeps up to her ears.

It's almost a shame, really, that he had to be the one to win her favor. He knows that she could do so much better. He almost feels guilty for manipulating her like this, when he knows he'll likely end up discarding her after she's served her purpose.

Tav glares petulantly at him, and Astarion finds her indignation endearing despite himself. “Oh, hush,” she says sourly, scrunching up her face. “The ground gave out under my feet, don't flatter yourself.”

Astarion splays his hands on the soft, spongy surface of the mushroom cap on either side of Tav's head and watches her curiously. In the silence that follows, she suddenly becomes extremely aware of his weight on top of her, the way he's effortlessly pinned her in place as if it's merely an afterthought.

The way he looks at her betrays his intentions, his face a perfect mask of seduction, all sultry smile and eyes narrowed with desire.

He hums thoughtfully.

“And how convenient for you that it did. But don't be coy, we both know how much you want this.”

Tav makes a point of adverting her gaze to focus in vain on some random object in her periphery, but Astarion will have none of it, and he gently coaxes her to look at him, taking her face in his hand. Their eyes meet, and she finds herself unable to shy away.

His cool fingers are like a brand against the searing heat of her own skin.

“Why else have you been so generous with your blood?” he asks. “I hardly think that it's charity that motivates you. There must be something you want in return, love.”

He says it so matter-of-factly, as though he can't imagine a scenario where his assumptions are incorrect.

And of course, he isn't wrong.

Astarion trails his hand across the plane of her jaw as Tav inhales a sharp breath, her face burning hot. When his fingertips ghost over her stomach, a jolt of electricity lances down her spine, her body responding automatically to even the lightest touch.

It's embarrassing how easily he can disarm her. The smug, charming bastard.

Tav sighs heavily both to steady herself and to make her frustration known. She knows the game he's playing, even if she's practically powerless to resist him completely. And as much as she enjoys the way his teasing ignites a fierce desire for him that is unmatched by anything she's ever felt before, she can't shake from her mind the image of the way he looked the last time they were in such a compromising position.

She won't let herself forget the way her heart instinctively ached for him, the unspoken misery that had been so plainly etched on his face despite the way he had smiled at her.

“Yes, Astarion,” she says flatly, her voice wavering only slightly. She considers it a resounding victory. “Are you expecting me to beg?”

She says it as if that isn't exactly what happened last time.

“Oh, come now,” Astarion reprimands, feigning indignation. A single white fang emerges from behind his lips as he grins devilishly at her – he knows he still has the advantage. “Don't spoil my fun.” 

Astarion leans in close, aware of the effect this will have on her. Tav reacts precisely as he had anticipated, and Astarion can feel her shift nervously beneath him. Her flustered heart hammers in her chest, her breaths shallow and rapid.

She is simply irresistible like this.

He says now, “I can give you anything you want - fulfil any of the fantasies you have in that pretty little head of yours.” His voice is low enough that Tav has to strain to hear him, and he's done it precisely so that it's all that all she can focus on, extinguishing any of her wandering hesitation.

Despite every primal instinct in her body that tells her to let him do as he pleases with her, to give herself over to him again, she somehow resists the urge, closing her eyes as if he's cast some sort of spell over her that she can break through force of will alone.

In some ways, that's precisely how it feels.

Tav can never seem to think clearly when she's around him anymore – even when they're apart, she constantly finds her thoughts drifting back to think of him, and she longs to be near him in any capacity.

It's made things so much more complicated.

Navigating her own emotions has never been one of her strong suits, and she feels hopelessly out of her element, unwilling – or perhaps just unable – to unpack how she feels about him.

Is it genuine affection she feels for him, or is she simply attracted to the way he makes her feel with no more than a glance in her direction, the way his words are so expertly chosen to make her heart race as though she were a blushing maiden?

With extraordinary difficulty, her mind coalesces into a single, targeted thought and what she feels needs to say; above all else, she wants to be honest with him – with herself.

“That's the problem,” she says finally. “Of course I enjoyed it. Of course I wanted more, and I don't doubt your... talents.”

Her expression falls dark as she hesitates only briefly before continuing. “But I know you don't feel the same.”

Astarion stares at her, nonplussed. The surprise is genuine, and it takes him a moment to compose himself. After some difficulty, he arches a brow as he meets her eyes with that characteristic smile of his, as though he hasn't a single care in the world.

“Why, whatever gave you a silly little idea like that?” he asks. “I have an appetite for more than your blood, you know.”

His voice is sultry and full of purpose.

“You can try to convince me all you like,” Tav responds pointedly, “but I know what I saw. When we were... together, you were distracted, distant.”

She worries at her bottom lip, concern flashing across her face.

“If you were just bedding me out of obligation because I let you have my blood, then that's not what I want. I don't want to take advantage of you like that.”

The admission compels Astarion throw his head back and let out a bark of mirthless laughter. The noise sounds harsh to Tav's ears, so un-Astarion like that it almost frightens her.

Tav feels his body tense up as he grapples with what she's said, and she knows now that her words have had more of an effect on him than she had anticipated, even if she doesn't know the cause for the sudden change in his behavior.

The irony of it all is not lost on Astarion. 

It's the anger that washes over him first. Anger at Tav for being so infuriatingly thoughtful, and anger at himself for letting her catch even a glimpse behind his carefully crafted façade.

It would be so much easier if she would simply surrender to his charms and let him fuck her, like so many others before her. He tries to convince himself that it would be good for both of them. Why can't she understand that?

When he speaks again, his voice is laced with contempt. Gone are any traces of kindness on his face, replaced instead by a look of disgust.

“Is that what you think? That you’re taking advantage of me?”

Tav feels outraged by his reaction, and she rises to match his anger, pushing herself up on her palms and flashing him a scathing look. Their faces are only inches apart, and she stares him down with a ferocity that catches Astarion completely off guard for the second time this evening.

Tav grits her teeth, her jaw set.

“Yes,” she says emphatically, “I do. And you getting defensive about it is only serving to prove me right.”

Her eyes are as cold as Astarion's own, any indication that she was feeling anything other than anger no longer present.

It's clear that she has no intention of backing down.

With a dramatic huff, Astarion makes his exasperation known and rolls off of Tav and before sitting upright beside her. He says nothing, and a tense silence settles between them as they both sit in wordless contemplation for what feels like a small eternity.

Tav occasionally gives him hesitant, cursory glances, trying to assess his mood, but his expression is difficult to read.

Finally, she speaks.

“I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to upset you.”

She is aware of the unspoken implication in his words, the suggestion that he’s been using her this entire time. It doesn’t matter.

“I don't care, you know,” she says dismissively. “If you're using me. Either one of us could burst into tentacles at any moment, and I'd prefer spending what could be my last days having a little fun if I can manage it. But you don't owe me anything... no matter how much I enjoyed it.”

Astarion huffs a laugh and looks at her to assess her sincerity. He can find no indication that she’s being dishonest with him.

“Well. You are certainly full of surprises, aren't you?” he muses out loud. “And here I thought you were nothing more than a pretty little feast.”

Although he’s still teasing her, his tone is unusually sober.

“I…” Tav hesitates. “I’m not opposed to continuing our little arrangement,” she admits, a little sheepishly. She becomes suddenly very interested in a loose thread on her sleeve, and she picks absentmindedly at it to avoid meeting his gaze again. 

“I'm fine with you feeding on me whenever you need to. That's something that can still be pleasurable for both of us, no? Something we can both choose.”

Astarion turns to face her. His expression is somewhere between gratitude and surprise, and for the moment he doesn’t quite know what to make of Tav’s offer, but he knows that he’s hardly about to turn her down.

“Yes,” he says. “I would like that.”

When she wills herself to look at him again, he gestures for her to come closer, his hand outstretched in a silent offering. Tav needs no further invitation before taking his hand and sliding gracefully into his lap, her thighs bracketing either side of his hips.

From this vantage point, Tav has the luxury of looking down at him through half-lidded eyes, memorizing every detail of his handsome face and the way the bioluminescent fauna of the Underdark casts a soft glow of blues and greens across his pallid skin. The reds of his eyes are murky, reflecting his hunger for her.

Tav flashes him a mischievous grin as she cards her fingers almost lovingly through his hair, guiding his face into the crook of her neck. His response is a low, satisfied chuckle against her throat, his hands embracing her as he holds her body firmly against him. As he splays his fingers across the small of her back, Astarion hears Tav suck in a breath, her anticipation building.

The way she is always so eager for his fangs unlocks something feral in him, and he opens his mouth hungrily, pressing the flat of his tongue against her pulse point.

Tav shivers at the sensation, a needy whimper tumbling from her parted lips.

“My dear,” Astarion murmurs, deeply inhaling her familiar scent, “you are simply too kind. You spoil me.”

When he sinks his fangs into her neck and drinks deeply from her, the pleasure they both feel is immeasurable.

[sophiamarieispinkbunny-chan]

SXF Novelization Fave Parts and some Analysis because I love Analyzing (Overthinking) Mission 1

I finally got my Spy x Family Family Portrait Novel and immediately finished reading it in one day, so without further ado, here are my fave parts, lines, dialogues from the first mission which is centered around Anya and Damian and this chapter just gives me diabetes 😭 (I've been shipping Damianya, yes but all this time it was like an innocent ship and it's not like making me feel butterflies since of course they're just children, but here in the novel, I actually got butterflies in my stomach, they're just so cute and precious here ❤️)

MISSION 1- THE EDEN ACADEMY NATURE CAMPING

-Yor thinking she needs to teach Anya a lot of survival things about camping because she's worried if she can handle the woods (Yor is such a great mom, worrying for Anya's safety always and I think this just shows her experience regarding the wilderness revealing that her hometown might've been near the woods and she did experiencing hunting for food when she was young)

-Loid hoping that the trip could bring Anya and Damian closer (Be careful what you wish you for Loid 😂)

"Wonderful! That's my girl. You can do it, Anya," Loid said.

I just love it when Loid calls Anya his girl, for she will always and forever be his little girl.

-Loid and Yor sort of having a gentle argument on who should get Bond's milk 😂

Loid: I'll get you some milk Bond

Yor: No, let me do that for you.

Loid: No, I can do it, just sit there and relax

Yor: You're the one who should relax

They ended up getting the milk together. These two idiots. 😭❤️

They remind of that, you hang up first, no you hang up first couple exchanges when they're on the phone. These two are so good in this married couple thing without even trying.

And then stabbed me in angst in the next paragraph.

Ever since escaping from the facility, Anya had bounce between orphanages and foster homes. But now she'd finally found someplace worth treasuring, and if she could bring about world peace, then they'd all be able to keep happily living here together.

She clearly doesn't know about Twilight's plan to leave them after achieving his mission. I wonder how she would react to that. I've written a fanfic about it so if you can check it out if you're interested😊. Sorry for the shameless fic plug.

But I hope that after the success of Strix, Loid would stay with them. Could he really leave them? Can he really do that? He can't even let Anya go during the first week they've been together and he has the choice to just ditch her, choose another child and it was the practical and safe thing for a spy for him to do when Edgar knew about his location. But he saved her and took her in despite his reservations about endangering her and all. Now could he let this little girl go after all this time?

-Anya reading Damian's mind and seeing his thoughts about him drowning when he, Emile and Ewen went camping with Mr. Green, made fun of him and even acted out his lines when he thought that he was really drowning in that shallow lake (She loves trolling Damian that she forgot that doing that could give her off as a telepath😂)

"Lovey-dovey couples are nice, but there's something extra special about bickering, will-they-won't-they romances."

I gotta agree with Becky on this one. Bickering makes any romance stories a thousand times more investing and entertaining to read. That's why academic rivals to lovers is an s-tier trope for me.

-Becky partnering Anya with Damian to fetch some water. Becky is also a fan of forced proximity trope, I see.

-Anya's telepathy elicited a sensation on Damian and it said that it wasn't the first time. I really bet that Damian would be the first to know about Anya's mind ability.

-Anya being confused about her left and right hand 😂 (I mean kids her age really do get confused about that, I don't blame her)

-Damian being gentle in his way of speaking whenever he sees Anya distressed or in tears. I'll never get tired of Damian being soft to Anya, he's really a sweet kid.

"Hey, keep it together!" commanded Damian as Anya started to sob again. He grabbed her arm and squeezed it tightly, pulling her close to speak in her ear (because the rain is loud). "I saw a small cave a ways back. Let's head there."

I don't know why but this scene, because of the way it was written, gave me butterflies.

-Anya calling for her Papa to save her when she was so scared. Loid said that Yor was the one that makes Anya feels safe, but she wasn't the only one whom Anya considers to be her safe place. He was also his baby's safe place and she trusts that Papa will always be there to save her.

-My favorite moment: Damian holding her hand and comforting her so she won't be scared, even though he, himself, is terrified too. Ugh, if that wasn't love, I don't what is. And when Anya gripped his hand back to comfort him too, he stopped shaking and Anya thought that his hand was warm. Awww, so preciouss❤️😭

-Anya letting herself to get the blame and willing to be punished but Damian not letting Anya to get the blame for them being lost in the forest. These two are like mini Yor and Loid haha, just young, energetic and extroverted versions of the two 🤣

-Anya being ashamed to face her Papa, because she thought her Operation to get close to Damian failed (since after that incident Damian went back to his mean self again but of course she didn't know Damian's crush on her just get massively deeper after that) but Loid wasn't even worried about that at all, nor did her ask her about Damian when she came home. When he had noticed she was sad, he immediately asked if she didn't have fun at their camping event. And when Anya said that she did, he smiled and said that he was glad that she did, because it's his daughter's happiness that's important to him (Because if she's happy then it would be good for my mission, I can imagine Loid telling this to himself when he just genuinely wanted her to be happy and enjoy her time at school since he never had the chance to do that as a kid)

-Yor and Loid preparing food together for Anya's return. Loid telling Anya that the food was safe to consume when she saw her face that is prepared to face death because he helped Yor to prepare. It was peak father-daughter moment 😂 But he let Yor cooked her specialty dish Southern Stew all by herself since she's the one who can make it the best ❤️

I wonder if Anya told him about her and Damian getting lost in the forest and Damian held her hand to comfort her. I wanna see Loid's reaction to that 😂

So that's it for Mission 1. Up next would be the chapter that got me laughing the most, Mission 2, Yuri babysitting Anya

[lunaetis]

@853e asked :

"i do hope i get a chocolate bar from a certain someone in this oh so special day!" his hand quick to ask eden for it though, very not subtle indeed.

unprompted. || always accepting

─「エデン」─  eyes of gold didn't take themselves away from the screen of her mobile phone as she was busy trying to WIN A BATTLE within her favorite game. while his footsteps were light enough to mask his presence, his aura had already given away his arrival way before his voice did. however, the TRAILBLAZER simply pretended she didn't notice him and carried on with her game. that was, of course, until his words broke her concentration and a split second was enough for her to get OHKO from the match.

                a click of tongue followed by her auric orbs staring at him in slight FRUSTRATION. " what do you want — " she already heard him, the not-at-all-subtle comment he pondered over earlier and it was made even more OBVIOUS by the way his large hand making a quick motion of give me. she squinted.

                " you are shameless. " said the stellaron vessel as she stared at him as though wordlessly inquiring if he was SERIOUS. when he refused to back out, a long sigh escaped her. while she had half a mind to chuck the nearest cushion at his head, gloved digits reached into her coat jacket and pull out a small bag of wrapped filled-chocolate then dropped it weightlessly onto his open palm.

                " i have no chocolate bar, just those. got them half-priced. " ugh. why was she humoring him, like seriously ? demanding old man. whether she had those waiting for him or it was her secret stash, one would never know. she huffed at him again, however. " happy now ? "

[verbenaa]

Hi, I'm Chloe! I write both Astarion/Tav and Astarion/Reader fics! ⭒

I also post these works on my archive of our own account, under the username leadii. Feel free to follow along over there as well! Thank you so much for reading my fics, and I dearly hope you enjoy them!

♡ Please note that currently all works posted here contain some form of NSFW content. Minors, please do NOT read/interact! 18+ ONLY ♡

⋆⭒˚.⋆ updated 01/15/2025 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

𝓂𝓊𝓁𝓉𝒾 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇

✧ to eden ao3

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Rin lays there, her back against the grass as she stares resolutely up at the sky overhead, little drops of dew like tiny diamonds hanging heavy from blades of grass.

“I have nothing to say to you, just so you know.” She refuses to look over to the place where Astarion lays mere inches from her as she says the words, but it doesn’t stop her from moving her hand to rest it down in the small gap of space between their bodies. 

It’s an offering, if nothing else, though it is one Rin doesn’t know if he will take.

“Well then, I suppose it’s a good thing that you so rarely have anything worthwhile to say.” Astarion’s words carry his usual unaffected haughtiness that has her eyes rolling despite herself, a small huff of annoyance escaping her lips. 

But as she feels the coolness of his skin against her own, clever fingers intertwining with her delicate ones using only the slightest bit of movement she thinks that maybe, just maybe there can also be a little room for hope in whatever this thing between them is.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

In which Astarion and Rin learn how to bridge the gap, because maybe all that distance between them isn’t quite so large as they once thought.

A semi-retelling of events; focused on themes of learning trust, intimacy, and perhaps even love.

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6 | chapter 7 | chapter 8 | chapter 9 | chapter 10

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓉𝓈

✧ air so deep and sweet ao3

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: “You’re just utterly shameless, aren’t you?’ He tsks, “Seducing me away from my work like this." Astarion’s eyes rove your form laying beneath him in reverence, the silken strands of your hair spread like a halo around your face and your dress a mess around your waist.

✧ so that i may dream tonight ao3

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: It was a special torture to be unable to touch him, you decide. You want nothing more than to brush your fingers through his curls as you come, to caress the delicate point at the top of his ears, feel the smoothness of his skin on your fingertips.

It feels absolutely filthy, to be tied up like this, your pleasure left to Astarion’s will as you are powerless to simply lay in wait for whatever he has in store.

✧ venus in furs ao3

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: He’s always imagined you like this in his dreams, he thinks. Naked, dressed in rubies as red as the wine in your silver chalice, blood like pomegranate juice dripping from your lips, staining your mouth to match the red of your blood that colors his own.

✧ opus 4 (nothing compares to the sighs that fall from your lips) ao3

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: “Have I mentioned how absolutely divine you look, darling?”

“Well, you did make the gown.” Your hand tangles in his hair, pressing him closer as you arch into him. He buries his face into your chest, kissing and licking at the skin bared to him above the low neckline.

“It’s quite easy when you have such a lovely muse.”

✧ to bask in your warmth ao3

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: “I’m not the only one who would look lovely with ribbons around my wrists, you know.” Your eyes flick up to his own as you wet your lips at the thought—dear, sweet Astarion writhing below you with the same rosebud hue tracing his wrists to keep him pinned as he is able to do nothing but accept the love and pleasure you have to give him.

“Something you think about often, hm?” His lips quirk up in amusement, his eyes finding your own as he basks in the heat from your warm body tucked into his side, thinly veiled interest present in his gaze.

✧ silver and silk ao3

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: “And we, my dear, have some very urgent business to attend to.” His expression is nothing short of devilish as he practically pushes her inside of the tiny closet and shuts the door behind them both, only waiting a mere moment before wrapping his arms around her waist and lowering his lips to her neck.

“Urgent, Astarion?” She rolls her eyes despite the loosening of her limbs underneath the feeling of his lips kissing down over her collarbone, mouthing at the exposed cleavage of her breasts before he lowers himself to the floor in front of her.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

In which Astarion finds it in his heart to help Rin work off some of her frustrations in a variety of ways. 

for kinktober 2024

✧ all my dreaming is only put to shame ao3

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: She’s on a particular fantasy, one involving Astarion and some ribbon wrapped elegantly around her body with a touch only he is capable of as he brings her to her peak again and again and praise falls from his lips, when footsteps near her tent.

Footsteps that Rin is far too lost in her imagination to hear—unguarded and terribly vulnerable—especially when said person does not want to be heard, sneaking through the night with every bit of their prowess.

Her lips open on a silent moan and she's so very near completion when a voice cuts through the night, the exact one she had been fantasizing about.

“Well, now this is quite a surprise.”

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

In which Astarion walks in on a decidedly private moment, but finds a way to make the most of it.

for kinktober 2024

[heartshapedbubble]

Hi there! I was wondering if it's ok if you could do some angsty head canons of Eli Clark and/or Aesop Carl. Only do this if you have time though :)

ANON.......anon your brain is so huge anon..... so ginormos

im sorry for delaying this ask i was having a brat summer (playing p3p for 4 hours a day) but ACKKKKK i was so excited when i got it i love angsty prompts

cw for: mentions of attempted death and alcohol

eli clark and aesop carl angsty hcs 🦉⚰️

eli clark🦉

he's so selfish.

he gave into the comforts of the manor too easily. the free yet quality booze that makes you feel all warm inside, the heavy meals served everyday, warm sofa cushions padding your back. he got used to it so quickly it stopped seeming like a privilege.

in moments like these he often remembers gertrude, how she's probably somewhere out there praying for his - presumably dead - body to at least be found in one piece. it has been too long since he left home in order to pursue a chance of a comfortable life for the two of them. no one would think he survived.

the unfairness of it all is what hurts him the most. how shameless of him is indulging in luxuries when his most beloved is probably rationing a two-day's portion of bread? there's probably a way to escape - but maybe he just doesn't want to.

the fastest way to cope is to indulge in those same luxuries over and over, day by day. a lavish life that would otherwise cost one a fortune is easily available to any resident. haunted by the past? down a bottle of wine with the other nobodies to forget your sorrows. or two, if one doesn't give you the kick you need. stressed? ring the butler, serve yourself and light a cigarette. don't mind the ash and the butts staining the velvet covers since it's not your duty to clean up. nothing's working yet? there's enough concoctions and drugs in the basement to take them recreatively.

he might not look like the type, but he has tried them all. he stopped with some, though, but mostly because they don't work anymore. the others, guilt. luckily his alcohol tolerance remained the same through the years and - although on very rare occassions - just a puff from a cigarette helps him unwind a bit. his two trusty companions when his head pulses from thinking too hard and the weight on his chest makes it difficult to move a muscle.

not a single speck of high taste in his actions. he doesn't chug the wine with vigour like demi or josé and whatever he smokes slips out of his fingers 'cause of his clumsy grip. the devilish temptations are splayed on the low table in front of him like a tarot deck and he slowly takes in whatever his gut finds appropriate for the moment.

he's not addicted, it's not like he'll die from withdrawal, it's just (sadly) the quickest and most effective way of avoiding his problems.

only a handful of people know about his destructive habit, and the secret hasn't spread any further since he first joined. the same way of coping with guilt and shame results in more of guilt and shame, creating a vicious cycle. especially since many newbies admire him, a veteran, for persisting for so long in the games and remaining near the top of the food chain. it's not an image one should uphold, let alone someone with his reputation.

as time passed, this means of escape became more like a ritual, way less frequent and if not more important.

besides, the end is inevitable. it has been haunting him from the very beginning, day and night. visions of chaos intrude on his peace of mind everyday and there's no way he can avoid them.

it's only a matter of time before this garden of eden turns to ash. the end is near, but what hurts the most is he's the only one who knows what's coming.

aesop carl⚰️

one may assume the influence of jerry carl upon him has dwindled with time. it has been years since aesop joined in the survivor faction and started interacting with others. he already has a set of prepared phrases to use in daily communication. to most, this might give off an impression of someone skilled in socializing - of course, this is all just learned behavior.

even with him gone, jerry did build the foundation on which aesop carl's whole being is constructed. he taught him the ropes, how to prepare the dead - or the living - for a safe departure to the other side. jerry nullified every speck of empathy that may have resided in him once, for he's just a third faction in this exchange of life and death, not somebody who can choose between mercy and violence.

his profession is what he is. he can't remember the last time he worked with a real human body, although that just might be the effect of the memory distorting drugs he unknowingly took during his stay. with no real purpose, no need for his kind, aesop carl started to crumble.

his life has been on a downward spiral ever since he stepped foot into the manor. "oh, but he embalms the puppets!" - aren't they just a disgrace to his craft!? they're nothing but a perversion of what should be the most graceful and important duty on this earth. turning cloth into skin, rice filling into flesh, doesn't all this just scream idolatry? playing god? the dead are supposed to rest, not come back to life! it's completely reversing the natural process!

he dreams of being of use again, to finally be praised and admired instead of scrutinized and avoided. the same people that treat him like a creep beg for his aid when their body lays limp in the hunter's hands.

he wants to work with real people again. sometimes he drifts off and finds himself picking out the best candidate for embalming. fantasizes of their tranquil expression, the faint traces of warmth on the skin after they die. blood trailing down the curves of their body and him gently wiping it, their life taken with just one little scar that he'll patch up anyway.

it doesn't have to always be someone else, though. he's often enarmored in thoughts about his own death. he has already decided he'll stuff his usual coffin which he uses in matches with the softest padding he can find and the freshest yellow roses from the garden. maybe he'll overdose? smoothly transport his mind from one world to another? if things don't get better, this solution is always available.

his own little funeral, fit for a prince. he has to treat himself with care, no? his frail frame has already been damaged enough.

he sometimes avoids visiting emily after matches since he'd rather suffer than engage in unnecessary conversations. he's pretty sure his left rib is broken and his right knee makes concerning noises when he puts a lot of pressure on it. not to mention the amount of times he dislocated his knees and ankles. it's all good until it hurts to breathe while running and he gets hit in the same spot over and over again until he coughs up blood. hunters catch up with weak spots faster than one may think.

the smartest decision would be letting the expert heal him, but aesop knows emily would mercilessly scold him beforehand. he often finds starting arguments and conflicts fun, but this one he wants to avoid under any circumstances.

despite how torn he is between morals his mentor showed him and morals imposed by the society he's now part of, jerry undeniably cared for aesop. he was like a father he never had. he's starving for praise, just a whiff of validation coming from somebody he knows. he's the only person that truly knew his worth.

maybe all this physical pain is a good omen, a sign that he'll pass by natural causes soon. he learned a lot about other interpretations of reality and death from fiona's seances and the religious residents' prayers. he hopes this feeling he has is right and, maybe, he'll meet jerry again in the afterlife.

[no-bone-biscuits]

What's the deal with Seb and the Black Death? (Headcanon/Theory)

That butler, A sick fuck

In season 1 episode 20, a battered Sebastian confesses his involvement with the Black Death. What I'm wondering is did he create the plague or just spread it? Do demons have the power to make deadly diseases? Is Sebastian a bio-hazard? (Sebastian is allthe-hazard.) Should we incinerate him for proper disposal? (No, cause I think his bitchass is fireproof.)

Sebby knows how to spread it (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)

As for the first 2 question; idk if there are different types of demons in Black Butler Land. Sebastian said that he just "spread it". LOL! Rest assured, Seb doesn't have the power to make dastardly diseases. *exhales sigh O'relief* ........ Wait!.... *sucks it back in* Butt HOW did he spread it?!

My spreading headcanon

Sebastian was probably doing some soul searching in China. (one of the first places where it broke out) Or maybe he was summoned by some desperate shmuck looking for a cure. Unbeknownst to that poor guy, the cure was having his soul aspirated. It was a quick and easy meal for Sebastian. This disease was a goldmine for despair and desire. He thought it a waste not to capitalize on this catastrophe. And so he pocketed some fleas and/or infected rats for his trip to Europe. Weymouth was the first town to be infected in England. I guess that was the place Seb enacted his plan.

Shameless OC plug in

I'm currently working on a vampire OC named "Eden". Her backstory is she contracted the plague. Her uncle made a contract with a demon to save her life. I'm thinking of making Sebastian that demon. Though, he did not turn Eden into a vampire. She was cursed by an angel (Angela probably) . When Eden found out her uncle got eaten, she threw a fit. She cursed at God for not saving them. Her uncle was a beloved pastor. Many gathered in the church for his funeral and soon to be their funeral. Eden burnt down the church cuz fuck God! Amiright!? Once she was done with her revenge, she hung herself. Reaper!Undertaker comes to recruit her. But Angela was all like, "Nuh-uh! Bitch!!! Ima curse your sinner ass for cursing God's holy name! ......But burning all those innocent people was kinda based tho ngl...."

[lauriegraham01]

the purest expression of grief

pairing: crowley x reader, gn!reader

summary: "darlin' don't you stand there watching, won't you come and save me from it?" or having tempted you into a life a sin, crowley realizes he's gone too far and tries to save you before it's too late

wc: 4.9k

cw: drug abuse, depression, near death experience, power imbalance, complicated relationship dynamics.

a/n: uni has kept me away, terribly sorry. this has been in my drafts for a while, i hope u all enjoy and pls leave feedback. (inspo from hozier + paris paloma)

Your mind is foggy as you lose all control of your body. Ears ringing from the music that's playing too loudly, eyes hazy from the smoke that crowds the dancefloor, and head shaky as the world around you moves in a blur. Has it been merely hours or days since you first started dancing, you couldn't tell. Your mind wouldn't let you think that far back. You stand amidst the crowd occupying the dance floor, losing yourself to the music of the night, and letting yourself only feel the pure bliss that the life of sweet sin seemingly always offered you. Just across the dance floor, with an arm perched on the bar stood Crowley. Dressed sleek in his signature all black look, they nursed a drink in their hand as they watched you from afar. Crowley had always been enamored by your shameless wonder, and even now after millenniums of having been at each others side, they still find you just as wonderous as he did back in the beginning.

Amongst the angels that served as guardians of the gates of Eden, lied you. An angel with strength and beauty that showed the power of the Almighty Herself. When the Garden was no more and the humans you swore to protect were outcast, Crawley, as you knew him before, was there to witness how you had fallen for God's newest creation.

"Here. Take these." With hushed whispers, you shield Eve from the prying eyes of the Garden, unaware of the serpent that remained coiled in the corner, as you reach into your robes to retrieve the several stems of hyssop that you had picked from the garden.

"But I-"

"You mustn't worry about what the Almighty says. Despite her anger, she still will watch over you as will I." Looking up at her, your heart contracts seeing the fear etched on Eve's face as she now prepares to face the world outside the sacred garden.

"I never meant for any of this to happen," Eve's voice comes out small, like a child scolded.

"I know," you say softly, "but there is still a way to make things right."

Grabbing her hand, you softly place the stems of the hyssop into her open palm. Inspecting the purple buds that adorn the plant, her eyebrows furrow in curiosity as to what the plant’s purpose is.

"You will soon find out that each passing month, you will undergo painful cycles where you will shed blood. This will only last a couple of days, but the pain that comes with it can be unbearable. This..." you cup the bottom of her hand that held the plant, "will help ease the pain that you will feel. Plant it, multiply it, and when the time comes, make a tea and it shall work."

Eve softly closes her fist, careful not to crush the delicate buds within her grasp.

"Thank you," she murmurs.

"Of course." You smile reassuringly and for the last time you see the glimmer of hope that lives in Eve, even if hidden behind her anxieties of what was to come.

You fly over the gates, in your own way saying goodbye to the fortress you have grown to love, wings slowly flapping steadily in place as you watch Adam and Eve venture out into the unknown.

"Well that was awfully kind of you-"

"My Lord!" Gasping loudly, your hand clutches your chest and your wings flare as you're caught off guard by the sudden presence at your side.

After a beat of catching your breath, you look over at the intruder and when you do, you have to do a double take. They look so familiar but...no...it can't be?

"Crawley?"

"I'm sorry do I know you?"

"Ye- oh, well I suppose not." Words dying off as you remember the rumours of Crowley's torment that followed after their fall from grace.

"I'm Y/N!" Your voice comes out more cheerfully this time, as you flash him a smile.

"Pleasure. Right, well like I mentioned, that was awfully kind what you did back there," turning his head to the side to look at you, he's met with your brows furrowed in confusion as to what he's going on about. "With the hyssop? I mean that was bloody brilliant and that's gonna save her a lot more heartache in the long run."

"Oh! Yes! Well I had to help, I can only imagine what she's bound to go through." You look back over to the lone two figures far in the distance within the desert, it'll be nightfall soon and you can only hope that they find shelter sometimes soon.

Crowley studies your profile as your gaze remains forward. You truly are a creature rarely seen and in those wholesome eyes that seem to have the light of the stars within them, he sees the darkness of the lonesomeness that lingered beneath.

"How did you come to grow so fond of them?"

"They had a choice and in the eyes of the Almighty they chose wrong," your face falls, a defeated sigh escaped your lips as you turn to fix your gaze unto Crowley. "Despite the punishments they face, they face them together. They have a companion and they're capable of so much love and so much more than what I believe any of us can imagine."

"You wish to live like them?"

"I'm afraid I can't. My duty is to the Almighty."

"I'm sure they would do good having someone on watch, hm? If you could protect them, then you can do good here at least enough to y'know make sure they don't ruin things all over again."

"Crowley?"

They hum in acknowledgement.

"How'd you know about my gift to Eve?"

Shit.

"I erm..I-I'm sorry, what?"

"Were you watching me?" You grin ear to ear as you tease the demon, face warming at the thought of Crowley having watched your every move from afar.

"I-Well-Ah-What, no. Oh s-please, that's rubbish."

"Crowley, you really are the devil." You laugh as you nudge their side playfully with your elbow.

When they try to do the same, a flap of your wings allows you to just barely miss their aim, and your laugh only grows at the sight of their widened expression.

"Ohhh Angel, you're in for it now." His seemingly threatening words fall short of any true malice, only mischief as they invite you in- making you fall deeper within his trap the longer you looked at the wicked grin on his face. Heart soaring as the two of you flew over the desert sky together, the beginning of something new.

You couldn't have envisioned the life that you would lead forward from that fateful day. Perhaps it had been also been your destiny to fall for temptation back in the Garden, your innocence having died screaming since Crowley slithered from Eden. Lifetimes have passed since then and you've seen everything that humanity had to offer. Yet despite having seen it all, you still fell victim to your own loneliness. Hiding your relationship with Crowley from Heaven's back came with a heavy tax. There would be periods when the shame and guilt you carried would become too much and the light in your eyes would fade. Whenever you felt this way, you would often turn to your vices in order to numb the pain. Crowley knew of this, in fact it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to indulge in illicit substances together, your hunger for more only growing the more you indulged. While they always tempted you to indulge in the sweetness of sin, they wondered if this time they've gone too far.

He's had quite a few already but that doesn't make him slow down. Raising the glass to his lips, his eyes remain fixed on you as even in the darkness, you still illuminated a heavenly glow.

"Some things never change", he thought to himself.

Yet even in your glow, they don’t miss the vacancy behind your eyes. The light that they had spent all of an eternity getting lost in had vanished and instead a storm of emotions were buried just beneath. It was only a matter of time before the storm would grow stronger and Crowley knew it as well as you did. You always were clever, and tried your damnedest to keep them hidden from everyone, especially Crowley, but it was no use. The demon had a tendency to see right through you and it was one of the things you loved most about them, but right now it was the very thing that annoyed you the most.

"Crowley," even telepathically they don't miss the tired and slurred hush of your voice as it echoes within his head, the various substances you've indulged in wiring your system. "Don't you stand there watching, won't you come and save me from it?"

You know that they've heard you, it wasn't uncommon for you and Crowley to communicate like this. So when they finally break their gaze and turn their shoulder to face the bartender again, your heart sinks thinking that they won't come to save you. You feel your face grow hot in embarrassment as you mentally scold yourself for being so vulnerable.

When Crowley turns around from closing his tab, you've vanished from the crowd and have already sought shelter in the bathroom. Clutching onto the sink for dear life, ragged breaths come out of your lips as you feel warm tears fall down your face. As you look at your reflection in the mirror, your torment only grows as your stomach twists in disgust by what you see.

"Oh Angel, how the mighty have fallen." You say self-deprecatingly as you harshly wipe at the tears in your eyes. Despite appearances, you weren't the angel you once were. Yet you knew that if Heaven saw you for what you were, you too would fall from grace.

With shaky hands you reach into your pocket and pull out a small golden vial- a gift from Crowley from the 20s. You unscrew the top as you gently tap the white powder onto the back of your hand. With a sniff, a rush courses through you as you feel the effects of the drug only enhance your already intoxicated state. As you tuck the vial away again and fix your appearance, you brace yourself for the world outside.

As you emerge your way back to the dance floor, your vision becomes hazy as the bright lights bounce around the crowd. In its wake, they illuminate one familiar face. They've never been the best dancer per se, but they always knew how to lose themselves in the moment.

As they come up from behind you, hands planting themselves on your hips as he presses your bodies together. Even as much as you feel yourself wanting to relinquish control to them a part of you holds back-desperately wanting nothing more than to be saved.

"Darlin', don't you join in you're supposed to drag me away from it."

"I'm here, love. I'm here." The breath of his whisper tickles the nape of your ear.

You knew you would be safe with Crowley, but the deep ache for salvation clouded your judgement. The infinite number of substances coursing through your veins only brought about infinite shame.

"Crowley," you sigh, "please."

You turn your head to look at him over the shoulder, and Crowley stills. The buzz and electricity of the nightclub die once he sees the loneliness shining through your pleading eyes, breaking his heart with every second.

"Right, come on then."

He takes your hand as he leads you away from the crowd and back into the streets of London. Despite having been on Earth for millenniums, one thing you never grew to get used to was how unbearably cold it can get. Crowley knows this, so he gives you his jacket and tucks you into his side as he rubs your arms comfortingly, hoping to warm you up.

"I'll get the car," they say facing you as you both stop on the edge of the sidewalk. They see your gaze fixated on the floor and know that your mind is elsewhere, probably worlds away from where they are.

"You gonna be alright?" Hooking a finger underneath your chin, they raise your head to finally look at them again.

"Yeah," your voice comes out shaky as you take a deep breath. "I'll be fine, Crowley." You try to give them a reassuring smile but it never quite reaches your eyes.

Crowley feels guilty for the way you feel, blaming themself for pushing you too far and not having listened to your signs earlier.

"Go." Your voice breaks them out of their thoughts. "Please, Crowley."

"Right. I'll be back yea?"

"Okay."

You watch him walk away further into the crowded streets, disappearing as he turns into the parking garage. Fumbling in your pockets you take out the pack of cigarettes that Crowley keeps in his jacket and you light one up. Thankfully the bentley doesn't come into view until you squash your cigarette bud underneath your boot.

When you get in there's no music playing, and it's like that the entire ride home. The only thing heard is the ambience of the passing city, the unbearable street traffic, and the heavy silence that lingers between the two of you. Every couple of minutes, Crowley's eyes shift over to you as you lean your head against the passenger window, eyes taking in the passing scenery.

"Eyes on the road, please." You mumbled, speaking for the first time in the past twenty minutes.

"They speak." Crowley narrated half amusingly.

"Not now, love. Not tonight please."

Crowley feels a sting at your words, not because they were necessarily hurtful but because they knew that you were hurting inside and at the cause of their hands. They turn their head back to the road in front and grip the steering wheel tighter, dreading the long night that's bound to unravel.

You hadn't realized that you've arrived at your apartment until Crowley placed a hand over your thigh and gently shook your leg.

"Sweetheart, we're here."

As you come back to your senses you see your apartment building right outside the window, the kitchen light glowing faintly from inside.

"Thank you," you don't spare a look at Crowley as you prepare to bid goodbye. As you go to pull onto the car handle, you feel it stiffen as the door locks itself.

"Crowley-"

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

Finally looking up at them you take in how disheveled their is. No longer in a neat quiff but instead had strands falling all over the place. Right hand still gripped tightly around the steering wheel while their left hand remained free.

You know where this was going, you've played this game many times before with the demon but you had very little patience tonight.

"Crowley, please not tonight. I just want to be alone."

"You know better than I do that I can't let that happen."

"Why not?" You spat out, tilting your head at them albeit daringly. Only to be met by their squinting eyes as you both relieve the same memory of the past.

A momentary shock flashed across both Aziraphale's and Crowley's face as they made each others figure out as the dust of their sudden apparition settled.

"Angel? What are you-"

"The same reason why you are here. I could feel it."

Crowley swallowed thickly, nodding in acknowledgement of the celestial force that had brought both the angel and demon here in the living room of your flat.

Aziraphale had been shelving books when he first felt it. Crowley had been downing a whiskey at the pub when he felt it. At first it had hit them dully, making them stop in their tracks. Moments later, the pain radiated every fiber of the celestials beings, bringing them to their knees. It felt like a burning. Like the heat of a thousand suns had consumed them and they instantly recognized that pain. Having felt it plentiful during the rebellion, with the images of war and bloodshed still vivid in their minds even after all this time. The horror that consumed them as angels they both knew and loved met either their untimely end or their damning descent.

You were slipping from this form, from this world, and both Crowley and Aziraphale could feel every ounce of that pain.

"Right, where are they?!" Crowley seethed as he begin to pace around the living room.

"They must be around here somewhere, shall we split up?" Aziraphale anxiously met Crowley's gaze as he flexed his hand at his side rhythmically. Nervous habit.

"I'll take upstairs." With that the demon bolted upstairs and began his search as Aziraphale remained in the lower level of your flat. Echoes of your name rung out as they both called out to you.

It was the howling of Aziraphale's name that sent the angel running upstairs to Crowley. Dread weighing on his tongue with every step he took. The swung door and bright light emanating from the bathroom drew him in the right direction as he called out to Crowley.

As Aziraphale appeared in the doorway, he froze at the scene that laid in front of him. Crowley sunken on the floor with your limp frame cradled in his arms.

"What in Heaven's name happened?" Aziraphale breathed out, wide eyed in shock.

"I didn't- I don't know-th-they just-", words seem to fail Crowley, even more so than usual. Forming words took to much strength when the only thing he could feel, see, and taste was fear.

Aziraphale's face hardened as a defiance washed over him. Not tonight. Swallowing his fear down, Aziraphale sprung into action and was at your side.

Your skin was scalding and burned Aziraphale when he tried to touch you. Streaks of blood adorned your nose and cupids bow. Your heart was beating too fast and your breathing was too shallow.

Crowley smoothed your hair back as he took note of the sheen of sweat that adorned your forehead.

"Don't you dare give up on me. Do you hear me y/n?" Crowley croaked through how impossibly tight his throat felt. "You're not going anywhere."

"Crowley, look at me." Aziraphale urged, voice steady as he tried hard to be level headed.

Crowley was rocking back and forth, looking down on you as he muttered incoherently beneath his breath. Aziraphale saw the way Crowley had been unraveling and while he understood why, he knew that they needed to join heads in order to save you.

"Crowley," Aziraphale whispered as he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. This seemed to snap Crowley back to reality as his gaze finally tore away from your face and fixated upon Aziraphale's. He couldn't breathe right, not that he needed the air anyways, but he took note of how hard his chest had been heaving. His wide eyes darted frantically between Aziraphale's as he searched for some kind of answer.

"What do we do?"

Aziraphale knew that they couldn't call for help. Who on earth could possibly help revive an angel back to life. This was something that would need divine intervention, and then he realized the only option they had left.

"A miracle?" It came out whispered, as if he himself wasn't sure of it.

"Aziraphale..."

"It's the only way."

The two only stared at each other. Communicating through panicked breaths and wide eyes searching for another answer yet reaching defeat and accepting that there was none.

"On my count. 1...2...3!" Crowley boomed as he and the angel intertwined hands and placed them over your chest.

A warm yellow light engulfed the entire room, blinding both Aziraphale and Crowley from each other as they both drew from their respective forces to perform this act. They lose all sense of time in the light of their miracle and it isn't until Crowley feels you stir within their arms that he opens his eyes.

"Y/N?"

Serpentine eyes meet yours as you fluttered your eyes open, slowly regaining consciousness. Your eyes darting everywhere as the world around you is still out of focus, you gain an inkling of clarity once Aziraphale's cool blue eyes meet yours.

You were dying, you knew that much. You had been toeing the line between life and death and death had nearly had its claim on you. Yet somehow in the space between, it had been Aziraphale and Crowley who saved you. Bringing you back home to them.

"That won't happen again and I've been fine since, Crowley." Venom lacing your every word as you stared at him coldly.

That night had been your rock bottom. The sixties were a time of radical change for everyone and it was in the drug liberation movement that your substance abuse had found its spark.

"Now, if you don't mind I'll just-" and with a wave of your hand you miracled the car to unlock itself.

As you climb out of the car, you have to cling to the door as your legs nearly give out on you. As the cold air nips at your skin, sending a shiver through your spine, you try to stop the world from spinning just long enough to get into your apartment.

As you wade through the grass you hear Crowley call after you. Ignoring them, you slot your key into your front door and relief fills your senses as you finally pry the front door open. Turning around to shut the door, your met with Crowley's chest as they stand in the entryway.

"I don't need a babysitter, Crowley." Your gaze cold as you tilt your head upwards to face them.

"Clearly, you do." Walking around you, Crowley makes his way further into your flat before seeking seeking refuge in the living room.

With a huff, you close the door and make your way further into your flat. Feeling Crowley close by as you entered and exited every room as you got changed. Their gaze never left yours, meanwhile you were doing everything in your power to ignore him. The task had proven itself difficult after 42 minutes. As Crowley watched you place a kettle for tea, his patience finally had worn thin.

"Is this what we're going to do? Keep silent all bloody night," their voice flat in annoyance as their stare bore into the back of your head.

A clatter rang out as you slammed the kettle back down on the burner. The anger from your manic state had been simmering for a while and Crowley's comment was enough to make it erupt.

"What do you want from me, Crowley?!" You bellowed as your eyes grow wide and crazed, meeting his daringly.

"I want us to quit using!!"

The boom in Crowley's voice was strong enough to rattle the flat, causing your wine glass from earlier to slide off the kitchen table and shatter on the floor.

You stare at the shattered glass on the carpeted floor. There it is. The big truth, the one that seemed to be seeping in your brain as fast as the crimson stain setting in your carpet.

"What?" Your voice came out a low murmur as your focus remained on the floor.

Crowley's chest deflates as they let out a heavy sigh. One that they've been holding for decades. You knew you didn't want to, you knew you loved it that much. Crowley also knew that, as much as it pained him. Having seen the destruction he's caused from his own hand, he never thought you were to get burned in his fire. Having swept you away from a paradise and into a world of sin, Crowley can't help but blame themself for the way things have ended up. They should have protected you better from it.

"I think maybe we should quit. All the drugs, all the drinking, at least for a little while." Voice teetering on remaining cool as they bargain with you.

"Go to hell," you sneer as you bump into his shoulder purposefully.

"Oh, I've been and it's actually quite lovely this time of year! The pipes have just gone through cleaning." Crowley barks as you march off.

The shattering of glass echoed throughout the flat as the fuel of you and Crowley's fire burned hotter at each passing second. Insults and accusations hurled at each other as you two miscommunicated.

"Y/N, don't you see what this is doing to us? What this is doing to you? This isn't us!" Hands waving frantically between your bodies, hoping to prove their point.

Coming to a halt from your previous march, you slowly turn to face the demon once more.

"And who exactly are we, Crowley?"

"Not this." A sigh elates from their lips as their shoulders slouch.

A moment of silence falls over the two of you. With the air still thick from all the tension, you can't see reason or rationality from the smoke of you and Crowley's fire.

"Devil," you call him slow and unsteady, hands shaking as they did long ago.

"When you stole my virtue, did you foresee that the fruits of my innocence would come to die far too young? Did you know the path I would take and what I would lose on it?" You close the distance between you as you slowly walk towards him.

"Angel, you know I didn't-"

"Then why did you do this to me?"

Crowley is stunned to silence. Throughout the entirety of your relationship, Crowley has carried a guilt for exposing you to a life of sin. Yet it wasn't until know that their fears would be confirmed as they stood their reeling in the weight out your accusation.

"Angel please-"

"You opened my eyes and you did this to me!"

Your screams rung out, piercing Crowley's ears with each slam of your fists across their chest. Walking backwards, Crowley tried to calm you down from your fury. Grabbing a hold of your wrists before flipping you where your back now was pressed against the wall.

"Let me go, let me go," you seethed through gritted teeth. Body thrashing against them as you fought to escape their hold.

"This is what I'm talkin' about," Crowley hissed. "This isn't you, love. You've lost control of your body, you feel no safety in my arms, we're constantly at each others throats. You don't trust me, y/n."

Your body slacks underneath Crowley's hold as the weight of his words cut through you like a knife.

"I've no language left to say it y/n, but I cannot go on like this any longer."

"Why didn't you stop me?", you mumble beneath your breath.

"I didn't know it would get this out of hand. If I knew, I would take it back in a second. I would have never sought you out in the Garden."

You can't help the soft smile that graces your lips as the warm memories from Eden flash in your mind. The days spent in paradise and time spent in playful innocence with Crowley. You've come a long way since then, and as quickly as it came your smile fell as you take in how far you've fallen from grace.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," your voice cracks as the weight of your shame come hurling towards you again, threatening to throw you overboard.

Your visions begins to blur and without a moments notice, a sob wracks itself out of your body. Crowley cups the sides of your face as he places kisses all over your face, whispering apologies between each kiss.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry love, I promise we'll make it out of this. I promise I will make it up to you."

Your cries become muffled as they pull you into their chest, hands smoothing your back comfortingly.

"What if I can't stop?" Your voice comes out hoarse. You don't know how long you've been in Crowley's arms, but your cries have now died down to sniffles as a drowsiness seeps into your bones. "What if we can't make it out of this one?"

Pulling away slightly to get a clear view of you, Crowley see's the tiredness in your eyes.

"I promise I will do whatever it takes to make sure we survive, that you survive."

"It's hungry work." You didn't feel worthy of Crowley's love or care, feeling guilty of the burden you've placed on them.

"Not for me." Crowley shakes his head defiantly. "Not if it's you."

"I don't deserve this. I've been unkind to you, I can't give you what you want-"

"Y/N, when I met you I swore I had dreamed you. A creature so beautiful, so loving, never having asked me once about the wrong I did. I can only pray I can show you a shred of the light you have given me."

Crowley's devotion remained unwavering. Seeing the light in his eyes as he pledged his loyalty made your heart ache a little less, and the pain less unbearable. Crowley noticed your eyes ever seeking, head reeling a million thoughts but not asking, for in some sad way he already knows.

"I know what it's like to carry the shame and hate of some other man's beliefs, let me carry that with you," he pleaded.

Flickering between his yellow eyes, the love that poured from them made you feel lighter. You knew that the road to recovery would be long and present its own trials, but you didn't have to face them alone. In fact, you never would have to feel alone anymore.

"I'm all in- I need to know you still want this, that you still want me."

Nodding slowly, a smile cracks itself on your face.

"In every lifetime, Crowley."