#fanfic: revelations

[catlady1986]

Chapters: 40/? Fandom: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Karl Heisenberg/Ethan Winters Characters: Ethan Winters, Karl Heisenberg, Chris Redfield, Hound Wolf Squad (Resident Evil), Mother Miranda (Resident Evil), Alcina Dimitrescu, Donna Beneviento, Salvatore Moreau, The Duke (Resident Evil), Original Characters Additional Tags: Language, Blood and Violence, Death, Rebirth, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Rating will go up, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Masturbation, Emotional Constipation, Blood and Gore, Amputation, Suicide Summary:

Being given another chance at saving his daughter, Ethan returns to the village that turned his life upside down. But with the threat of old and new foes, he may have to accept help from someone he rejected before.

[temilyrights]

revelation

Summary:  Emily Prentiss x GN!Reader. Spencer helps you come to the realisation that maybe you've been looking in the wrong place for happy ever after all this time, and the person of your dreams is right in front of your eyes.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: References to drinking alcohol, slight sexuality panic.

A/N: hi it's been a year and a half since i posted anything but i read a half finished fic and suddenly got inspiration?! anyway i've missed you all and i hope you enjoy <3 (my one emily gif because i've lost all my gifs :D i want to cry!!)

How were you meant to know? Sure, you’d watched the movies and heard the songs just like everyone else, but no one had explained to you what it felt like. 

Plus, it wasn’t as if the movies were great demonstrations. They were always so dramatic, with tears and rain and running through airports. 

Spencer was the one, out of everyone, to point it out in the end. 

The whole team was gathered in JJ’s garden, a family event to mark the beginning of summer. Will and Hotch were grilling food on the BBQ, while JJ handed out alcohol that Rossi consumed generously, the kids were playing on Henry’s swing set, and Penelope, Derek, and Emily all spoke boisterously, their voices and laughter filling the garden. 

You stood to the side with Spencer, watching in bemusement. You had no idea what they were saying as they shouted excitedly at each other, but Emily was grinning, her cheeks flushed, and looking more carefree than you had seen her in a long time.  She was wearing a gorgeous blue vest top and jeans. You loved the top on her, it made her glow, complementing her skin and hair in a way that you couldn’t put accurately into words.  

Your heart stuttered, something that had been happening with increasing frequency recently, but you hadn’t given it much thought.

“Can I ask you something?” Spencer said abruptly as his fingers drummed against the side of the cider bottle in his hand. 

You turned slightly to look at him, your brows furrowed at his thoughtful expression. You nodded, “Of course.” 

“Why—" He hesitates. You smile reassuringly at him and he takes a breath before continuing, “It’s not really my business, but I’ve watched the two of you and I guess I'm just confused as to why you’re not dating.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise but he continues. 

“I thought maybe you two were just keeping it a secret from the team, but it’s been years and neither of you have said anything, plus Emily gets this sad look in her eyes sometimes and I think if you were together she wouldn’t, and—”

“Me and Emily?” You stammer, “Why would you think…Emily and I-” 

Spencer’s brows shoot up. 

“She’s one of my closest friends. I don’t…I’m not…”

Your heart beat speeds up and you tug on the collar of your shirt to cool yourself down. 

You didn’t understand, Emily was your best friend. You knew she was a lesbian but you weren’t. You liked men. 

“But you don’t look at the rest of us the way you look at Emily.” Spencer says softly. “You look at her like she’s the sun. Like the world turns because of her.” 

You shake your head. 

No. 

“You love her.” 

No. No. No.

You didn’t. You’d know if you were in love, and okay, so maybe you’d never been in love before but loving a woman had never once crossed your mind. It’s not like you were against it, you'd just never thought about it. Why would you? You dated men. 

…you dated men and felt very little. Your relationships have always been short, and when the men would finally leave you’d feel nothing but relief as if the relationships were draining the happiness out of you. 

But you’d know if you’d like women, surely? Sure, Emily made your heart clench and your stomach swirl. Sure, every time you saw her you’d smile wider and maybe you thought about her often but that’s what friendship was, right? 

You gulp.

Spencer and Penelope were also your close friends, and you did think of them often and enjoy their company but it was different. 

You’d set Penelope up on a date with your friend just like week, but last month there’d been a detective flirting with Emily and you’d been in a terrible mood the entire time. The team had smirked and you hadn’t understood, only thought how unprofessional the detective was being and oh, oh. 

oh.

You loved her.

You didn’t know. 

You really didn’t know. 

No one had told you that this is what it felt like. You hadn’t known. 

A hand on your arm jolts you, and brings Emily’s concerned face into focus. “Hey, are you okay?” She asks, brows drawn together.

A couple of tears had made their way down your cheeks without your permission. Embarrassment burns through you and all that comes out of your mouth is an urgent, “I didn’t know.”

Her frown only depends, rightfully confused, and you don’t know what to say. Too many thoughts rushing through your brain all at once. 

Spencer and Derek stand together a few steps away, whispering hurriedly to each other. You catch your name and Spencer’s worried, “I didn’t think this would be the reaction.” Emily is only focused on you, and doesn’t seem to notice their conversation. 

“What do you need?” She asks, hand still touching your arm and it’s all too much. 

You shake your head, stepping away from the hand that burns your skin. “I just need a minute.” You say, already walking away and into the house where the world is a little bit quieter and there are no watchful eyes. 

You wipe away the tears and take deep steadying breaths as your heart beat slows down. 

You find a glass and fill it with water with shaky hands. You had no idea what happened to your cider. 

You lift the glass to your lips and take a couple of sips, feeling yourself steady even more as you focus on simple actions. You sense when Emily enters the room, able to pinpoint the tread of her boots against the others with ease, and really how had this ever come as a surprise to you?

How had you failed to notice something so glaringly obvious? Emily Prentiss. How many years have you wasted failing to notice her? Going on dates with meaningless men, running yourself in circles and feeling guilty for not feeling enough when that woman makes you feel everything. 

And you weren’t going to waste another minute. 

Your shoulders set as you come to your decision and you place the empty glass of water down on the counter. Emily, equally as tuned to you, notices the change in your stance and from the other side of the room asks, “Ready to talk about what happened outside?” 

You turn around to face her, and your breath catches in your throat slightly. Wow. 

The sun shining in through the window is lighting up half her face, making her dark eyes sparkle more than normal, and bringing out the silver tones in her raven hair. 

“Y/N?” She prompts, brows drawing back together in concern as she approaches you. 

You shake your head, dispelling the thoughts. “We can talk about what happened outside another time. I actually have something else I need to ask you.” 

Emily’s head tilts slightly, confusion masking her expression. “Okay?” 

You blow out a breath, and gathering all your confidence, ask, “How would you like to go out to dinner with me Friday night?” 

“Oh,” Emily smiles, shrugging, clearly still confused. “Yeah, of course, did you want to finally try that new sushi place?” 

You sigh, “No Emily. For a date.”

Her eyes widen, “Oh, oh, uh.” There’s silence for a moment and then “Yes,” As a massive smile spreads across her face and a laugh ripples from her mouth. “What? Are you serious?” 

You can’t help but laugh too, your cheeks warming. “Yes. I’d love to take you out for dinner, if you’re agreeable.”

Her eyes turn soft as her hand reaches out and squeezes your arm, causing butterflies in your stomach. “I would love that more than anything.” 

“It’s a date then.” You smile, eyes dropping down briefly to her lips. 

“It’s a date.” She agrees. 

It may be only five days away but god you would do anything to bend time and move it closer. You’ve waited years, what’s another five days…

taglist: @ry-kills-jemily @sapphic-stress @xrainydazeteax @mckennamayfairgoode @dalexandriag16 @enduringalexblake @augustvandyne @themoontaxi @prentissology @alexbllake @alexblakeswife @quinnharkness @ssa-sapphic @storiesofsvu @strongsassysexysloane (i have you all listed as being on my taglist but i know its been over a year so if you wanna be removed pls just message me/fill out the form linked on my masterlist and i can take you off <3)

[brofightiscancelled]

(taking a really long drag off a cigarette) i know the joke is that osomatsu at 18 is the exact same as osomatsu current but didnt he seem angrier to you. just in general. i cannot imagine how teenage angst would hit you if you were also a sextuplet

like he was probably as carefree and stupid as usual with literally everyone else to be fair. but w his brothers it's like ough. i wonder if the "getting sick of the sextuplet schtick" hit him the hardest in HS. he's the only one who isnt visibly annoyed in the sleeping scene but he's also the one saying "why are there six of us?"

i thibk osomatsu has genuine qualms w being a sextuplet. we see him complain abt it to chibita in episode 2. i dont think they were totally unfounded or made up on the spot, that's stuff he was holding deep in his core

and i think esp in an environment like high school, and w being such an egotistical brat, oso wouldve started resenting not having his own identity just like the others. i imagine he wouldve channeled his clingy brattiness into being a nuisance to all of his peers. it's just that now, in adulthood, he literally doesnt have anyone else in his life, so his brattiness has fallen back onto his brothers.

ironic to how he is now, i think the "why are you asking me? that's your problem" response to totty comes from resenting the sextuplet status quo they'd established as kids of them expecting him to know what to do and expecting to follow his lead and having eldest brother expectations of him forever and ever. why do you assume we're going to be together forever? don't you know i'm going to make it out on my own in the real world?

it's interesting it was between totty and oso cuz it seemed like hs totty wanted things to stay the way they were the most. regressing and acting even more kid like. so to me oso saying that to totty specifically is a like "why are you expecting things to stay the way they were forever?" kind of thing

i feel like (inhaling more smoke) it's kind of like the fight at their grad ceremony kind of unlocked those revelations for them. we've just had the worst fight of our lives but at the end of the day we all have to take the same route home to all sleep in the same futon. we're going to be brothers no matter what. for better or for worse we're shackled sextuplets forever and ever.

Everything just kinda clicks because even though he hates it, they're stuck together. And he doesn't have any idea on what he's gonna do, he knows Totty doesn't know what to do, and it's probably easy for him to guess that the rest of them don't know what to do either. They're stuck together and none of them have a plan for the future besides that. i think oso was coasting by on this idea that "everything would work out somehow" (very oso-like) and this is the wakeup call that no, if left unattended, this is how your problems will fester

i also really often think about 18oso's reaction to finding out they're neets in the future. yes this is funny yes this is deeply sad but i also remember being really taken aback by it when i first saw it

like obviously after you think about it for 1.5 seconds like, yes, obviously oso didn't realize at age 18 that he was going to be a jobless bum well into his 20s. being a jobless bum wasn't what he had envisioned for his life. but juxtaposed with how carefree current osomatsu is with his life it really is funny to realize like oh, yeah, there was a point in time, most of their life really, where they thought they'd be something when they were adults

i think oso had always wanted his own identity like any other teen, but now that the only people left in his life as an adult are his brothers he's just clinging to his identity as niichan. but maybe this is the smoke inhalation talking

i think if oso had any other friends than his twins he would not be this annoying. but he doesn't

[another-lost-mc]

Blasphemy

When you pray to him, it's not forgiveness you're asking for.

MICHAEL x gn!Reader 1.8k words | NSFW | Obsession | Sexual Themes Content Warnings: Obsessive thoughts, invasion of privacy, suggestive themes and some sexual content. A/N: Read the sequel here.

It starts when Simeon gives you the lost Ring of Light.

You think it’s a dream at first, the blinding golden-white light that overwhelms your senses. Suddenly a man’s voice, clear as if he was at your side, speaks to you and offers his blessing and good luck. The demon brothers panic later about seeing light from the Celestial Realm spill from your room, and you freeze when you realize the person you spoke to must’ve been Michael himself.

You tell yourself it’s simple curiosity that motivates you to learn more about him. The very mention of Michael’s name brings up so many varied, intense reactions depending on who you talk to. You speak to the angels first. Luke admires him wholeheartedly, but Simeon’s forced smile and carefully guarded answers to the questions you ask make you feel guilty.

It’s more complicated talking to the demons about him. Sometimes, they say his name with cloudy expressions and pursed lips like they just bit into something sour. Other times, they look far-away and try not to smile when they reminisce about events that happened long ago.

Mammon complains to you about Michael’s no-nonsense approach to work and discipline, and Asmodeus tells you some abstract memory about Michael while he paints your nails. He sounds nostalgic when he mentions all the ways Lucifer and Michael are similar, and the ways they’re also completely different.

Lucifer doesn’t talk about Michael very much, but he’ll usually answer your questions so long as they’re vague and not too prying. When he speaks about Michael, he wears the frown of someone that remembers hurting and being hurt by someone he loved, but it was so long ago the pain is a dull throb he can ignore.

No matter what the angels or demons tell you, you can't shake your interest in the archangel that is admired and feared in equal measure. Curiosity turns to fascination, and you feel some ravenous need to learn more. The things you’ve learned about him so far - the awe-inspiring feats, the high expectations he puts on those serving him, the cruel punishments for those who fail him - scare you and captivate you.

You spend more time with Luke who shares his memories of Michael so easily. It’s no wonder Luke enjoys baking so much - he tells you about Michael’s sweet tooth, the things Michael particularly likes to eat and drink the most, and Luke even offers to make some Celestial Realm desserts for you to try. When you eat them, you pretend it brings you closer to him, like you share something in common.

One day when you visit Luke at Purgatory Hall, he casually mentions getting a message from Michael and you nearly choke on your tea. He keeps talking about whatever task he’s been assigned, but your mind is racing. How did you not think of this sooner?

“I forgot my D.D.D. at the House of Lamentation, can I borrow yours?” The lie rolls off your tongue easily and Luke eagerly hands you his device without a second thought. When he runs off to the kitchen to check on lunch, you immediately pull up his chat history with Michael. You don’t have time to read everything properly, so you take as many screenshots of their conversations as you can, and you send them to yourself. When you’re finished, you close the chat app and head to the kitchen to help Luke.

Later that evening, you read and re-read the message history between Luke and Michael. You smile when you read about Luke’s versions of events in the Devildom, often skewed to make the demons look worse than they (usually) are. You’re touched by the way Michael seems to genuinely care for the young angel too. He responds to Luke’s messages with enthusiastic encouragement or gentle reminders to show his demon hosts grace and patience. 

Your eyes widen comically when you come across your name during one of their older conversations, and you feel your cheeks grow warm when you realize they were talking about you.

Luke: They’re so nice! They told me about some human world desserts that sound amazing. I’m going to ask them to teach me one day, if I can get the ingredients.

Michael: They sound like a wonderful friend to you.

Luke: I wish you could meet them!

Michael: Perhaps one day I will.

Those seemingly innocent words shouldn’t have this sort of impact on you. The logical part of your mind knows Michael is probably humoring Luke, grateful that he’s found a friend in the Devildom and happy to see that you’re a positive influence on him. The desperate part of your mind, the one that fixates on those words, reads them almost like a promise. One day you'll be able to see him in person, or perhaps even touch him if you’re brave enough. 

Their conversation lingers in your mind for the next several days, and you can't stop fantasizing about what meeting Michael might be like. The first meetings that you dream about skirt the line of innocent curiosity and unashamed blasphemy. One morning you wake up with your hand between your legs and the name of a faceless angel on your lips when you come. The memory of his voice rings in your ears and you still want more. You’re not sure what it says about you that you don’t feel ashamed at all.

You grow bored of re-reading the same juvenile conversations between Luke and Michael, and you turn your sights to accessing Simeon’s D.D.D. next. Simeon is older than Luke and you know his relationship with Michael is more complicated. You’re not sure if it’ll be as easy to get access to his phone, but fate is on your side.

The next time you visit Purgatory Hall, Simeon comes to see you and Luke in the kitchen. He looks a bit embarrassed and he’s scratching the back of his head while he holds his phone out to you.

“If you’re not busy, do you mind helping me with this?” he asks you a bit sheepishly.

You have to remind yourself not to be too eager when he hands over his device. “Of course! It’s not a problem at all. If you want to finish helping Luke, I can see what the problem is.”

You leave the two angels in the kitchen and retreat to the living room. The problem is obvious - the screen lighting is so dim it’s hard to read, and somehow Simeon changed the default language to some sort of demonic script neither of you understand. They’re both easy things to fix, and that leaves you with a few spare minutes to check his message history.

As you suspected, his conversations with Michael are more mature. They’re less focused on the daily sights that Luke is amazed by, focusing instead on Devildom life and politics. Michael is curious about Diavolo and his fallen brothers most of all. He asks pointed questions and makes subtle comments that seem purposeful if you read between the lines.

One of the more recent conversations he and Simeon had seems serious. You had no idea that Simeon stole the ring he gave you. It’s always difficult to read tone through words alone, but even you can decipher the undercurrent of disappointment and anger in Michael’s messages.

You understand now, with more clarity than ever, that Michael is intelligent, cunning, and should not be crossed. This realization should frighten you and put a quick end to your silly little crush. However, the temptation of forbidden fruit is too much for you to resist, and this knowledge fuels your fascination instead.

When you’re alone in bed at night, you give up all pretenses and surrender to lustful urges. Your thoughts of the mysterious archangel are steeped in lust. You remember the rumbling sound of his voice in your mind, and you can still feel the warmth of the Celestial Realm’s light. If he were to put his hands on you, would he feel that warm too?

It’s so easy to give into the fantasy that it’s his hands moving between your thighs while you touch yourself. You imagine returning to the Celestial Realm and finally meeting him in-person. You picture him towering over you, the embodiment of grace and power and absolute authority. You wonder what you might have to say or do to tempt him.

Thoughts of him - dark, depraved, delightfully sinful thoughts - are enough to push you over the edge while you stroke yourself beneath your sheets. You come once, then again not long after, riding the high of sin and corruption. You try to stop the whimpers and moans that threaten to spill from your lips. Breathy whispers that sound suspiciously like his name break the silence of your room, hushed secrets for your ears alone.

You’re still panting lightly, mind foggy from the pleasurable daze of your last orgasm, when your D.D.D. vibrates on the nightstand next to your bed. It’s an automatic response when you reach for it - with your clean hand, the one that isn’t saturated by the scent of your arousal - and mumble a quiet greeting when you answer. It wouldn’t be the first time one of the demon brothers got himself locked out of the house after partying all night.

“Did you think I would ignore your filthy prayers forever?” the smooth voice on the other line asks you.

Michael. You recognize who it is instantly and sit up in bed.

“Wait, how did you—?” you ask nervously, because how the hell did he get your number?

“You’re not the only one Luke trusts with his belongings,” Michael says knowingly, with a hint of amusement.

Oh no. Has he been watching you this whole time, waiting for your most vulnerable moment to surprise you like this? What does he know? What has he seen, or heard?

You’re completely unprepared for this conversation because he's rendered you speechless. Your mouth opens and closes uselessly while you try to think of something to say. What can you say? You’re excited and embarrassed, and your body warms up suddenly, like it’s on fire. 

He chuckles quietly, like he predicted this reaction from you. Your silence speaks volumes, and you realize you don’t need to say a word for him to understand you perfectly.

“Humans are such fascinating creatures,” Michael’s voice drawls, low and intimate in your ear.

You whimper and try to clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise, but it's too late. He chuckles again and he sounds far too pleased with himself. "You were intriguing before, but not many are able to surprise me the way that you have. Perhaps you deserve a reward for your efforts.”

You can’t help but shudder from the lust simmering deep within your belly. Is he trying to sound seductive on purpose? You don’t know and it’s impossible to tell.

It seems like he can read your thoughts because he hums approvingly. “Yes, I think a proper meeting is in order, don’t you agree?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer, and before you can attempt to speak again, the line goes dead.

[small-z24]

One-Shot: A Poet's Discovery

Summary: 

Azriel finds Y/N’s journal filled with heartfelt poetry about a mysterious man, sparking jealousy and curiosity. As he tries to uncover the identity of her muse, Cassian's playful teasing leads him to a surprising revelation that could change everything.

Word Count: 976

Warnings: None

Azriel prowled the halls of the House of Wind, shadows whispering around him. He had been tasked with delivering a message to Y/N, a priestess living in the library. Rescued by Rhysand and Azriel from a brutal attack on her church, Y/N had since found solace and purpose among the books and scrolls. As he approached her room, he noticed the door slightly ajar. He hesitated for a moment before deciding to knock, but the soft sound of rustling paper caught his attention.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he peeked inside. Y/N’s room was a mess of papers and books, but one particular journal lay open on her desk, its pages filled with delicate handwriting. Azriel knew he shouldn’t invade her privacy, but the temptation was too strong. He stepped inside and picked up the journal.

His eyes skimmed over the lines of poetry, his heart pounding as he realized the words were filled with longing and admiration for someone. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy, wondering who had captured Y/N’s heart so completely.

His eyes, dark as the night, hold secrets I wish to unravel. His touch, gentle yet strong, leaves me breathless with desire. In his presence, I am whole, yet shattered by the distance between us.

Azriel’s jaw tightened. Who was this man she wrote about? He continued reading, the poetry becoming more intense with each line.

Oh, how I long for his embrace, to feel his shadows wrap around me, to be lost in his world. He is my night, my stars, my everything.

Azriel’s mind raced. Shadows? Stars? Could it be... No, it couldn’t. He shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought. It had to be someone else. But the jealousy gnawed at him, making his shadows swirl restlessly.

“What are you doing?” Cassian’s voice broke the silence, startling Azriel.

Azriel quickly shut the journal and turned to see Cassian leaning against the doorframe, a wide grin on his face. “Nothing,” Azriel muttered, trying to compose himself.

Cassian’s grin widened. “Nothing, huh? You look like you’ve just read something scandalous.”

Azriel glared at him, but Cassian’s teasing expression didn’t waver. “It’s none of your business.”

Cassian stepped into the room, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, but it is. You’re my brother, and seeing you all flustered is my favorite pastime. So, what did you find?”

Azriel sighed, knowing there was no escaping Cassian’s curiosity. “It’s Y/N’s journal. She’s written poetry about someone she’s clearly infatuated with.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow. “And you’re jealous because...?”

“I’m not jealous,” Azriel snapped, but the words lacked conviction.

Cassian laughed, clapping Azriel on the back. “Sure, you’re not. Let me see.”

Azriel reluctantly handed over the journal, and Cassian began to read. As he reached the parts about the shadows and stars, his grin grew even wider. “Oh, this is gold. She’s talking about you, you idiot!”

Azriel frowned, feeling a flicker of hope. “What makes you so sure?”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Shadows, stars, night—who else fits that description? She’s smitten with you, and you’re too dense to see it.”

Azriel’s heart raced as the realization sank in. “You really think it’s me?”

Cassian laughed again, shaking his head. “Az, you’re supposed to be the smart one. Yes, it’s you. And now you have to do something about it.”

Azriel felt a mix of relief and panic. “But what if I’m wrong? What if she doesn’t feel that way?”

Cassian smirked, handing back the journal. “There’s only one way to find out. Talk to her. And maybe, just maybe, stop being so broody all the time.”

Azriel sighed, glancing down at the journal. “You make it sound so easy.”

Cassian shrugged, heading for the door. “It is. Now go, before I start writing poetry about how hopeless you are.”

Left alone in Y/N’s room, Azriel took a deep breath. Cassian was right. He needed to talk to her, to find out the truth. He couldn’t let jealousy and doubt control him.

Gathering his courage, he left the room and went in search of Y/N. He found her in the library, surrounded by books, her expression peaceful as she read. She looked up as he approached, a smile spreading across her face.

“Azriel,” she greeted him warmly. “What brings you here?”

He hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside her. “I found your journal,” he admitted, watching her expression closely.

Her eyes widened, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “You read it?”

He nodded, feeling his heart pound in his chest. “Yes. And I need to know... the poetry. Is it about me?”

Y/N’s blush deepened, but she met his gaze, her eyes filled with vulnerability. “Yes, Azriel. It’s about you.”

Relief and joy washed over him, and he couldn’t help but smile. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

She looked at him, her expression a mix of hope and uncertainty. “You were?”

He reached out, taking her hand in his. “Yes. Because I feel the same way, Y/N. I’ve just been too blind to see it.”

Her smile brightened, and she squeezed his hand. “Then we’re both idiots.”

Azriel laughed softly, leaning in to kiss her gently. “I can live with that.”

As they sat together in the library, surrounded by the quiet rustle of pages and the soft glow of lanterns, Azriel felt a sense of peace and happiness he hadn’t known in a long time. Cassian’s teasing might have been annoying, but it had led him to the truth. And for that, he was grateful.

And somewhere in the House of Wind, Cassian was probably writing his own poetry about how hopelessly romantic Azriel could be. But for now, Azriel didn’t care. He had found his light in the darkness, and that was all that mattered.

[not-with-you-but-of-you]

“Rory?” Her own voice says, but she’s not the one speaking, he is. “Jess.” She growls, insanely angry instinctively, suddenly. It feels different than it usually does, and it has to be because of the body. Normally anger is a bit like heartburn, but this is all heart, hot, strong, searing. She gasps from the sensation. “What-?” Jess starts, then stops, slapping hands over face. “Wait, wait, wait”, he mumbles, “the headache, I fell asleep in my car-” his words are quick and sound like her. He goes quiet, stops breathing, removes the hands and widens the blue eyes in unmistakable recognition. She gapes, points at him, herself, jeez. “You did this!”

Imagine being stuck in the body of your ex, imagine your ex being stuck in your body.

A Form of Attraction ↳ A Literati body swap AU by @mrsmess

[idk-im-just-here-now]

YALL THE REVELATIONS TIMELINE MADE IT INTO THE @tmntaucompetition PRELIMINARIES

They're confused but they came in 1890s fashion and they got the spirit!

GOOD LUCK TO EVERYONE WHO MADE IT INTO MAIN BRACKET AND PRELIMINARIES HAVE FUN!

[patolemus]

i don’t know why i am the way i am (there’s something in the static, i think i’ve been having revelations)

Rin has always been a believer. Both he and Yukio attended mass every Sunday at the monastery all their lives, grew up listening to Shiro and the other priests recite from the Bible—and this is the only book Rin knows almost by heart. The twins were baptized when they were younger, and despite his rebellious attitude, Rin has never wavered over that belief - whether that is because he was always surrounded by it or not - and it’s Yukio who’s gotten more skeptic about it as the years pass.

After Shiro dies, and Rin finds out he’s the son of Satan, Rin stops going to church. He doesn’t believe he’s welcomed at God’s house anymore, son of the original sinner that he is. He mourns the loss quietly, spending Sunday mornings in the quiet of his and Yukio’s abandoned dorm hoping he could be somewhere else.

(Alternatively, he could go to the chapel obsessively, turning his believes into a quest for absolution. Maybe if he behaves like a good Christian boy ought to do, if he follows the rules and proves Rin has not abandoned him, God will forgive him the sin of being born.)

Rin would want to have his confirmation—maybe he was in the middle of that process before Satan possessed Shiro. But now that holy instruments harm him, it’s like another sign that a demon isn’t welcomed, and that God has forsaken him. For that same reason, some of his favorite Bible verses harm him, and it’s through gritted teeth and clenched fists that he recites them in class and to himself, refusing to give them up because he’s turned tainted by his demon blood.

(When he first awakens, the night before the funeral, Rin takes a bottle full of holy water from the monastery’s reserves and tries dousing himself on them, thinking he might be able to cleanse himself of this curse with it. It burns, making his skin splotchy red and his eyes water from the pain. He’d always been able to touch it without issues before, but now it repels him. Rin falls to his knees in front of the altar, head bowed to the sculpture of Jesus crucified on the cross, and wonders for the first time if God has left him.)

(The burn fades within the hour, and Rin hates that most of all.)

Rin avoids mirrors the first few weeks after Shiro’s death, not wanting to see how he’s irrevocably changed. He hates the feeling of his longer canines when he runs his tongue over them, grimaces at the new, sharper shape of his ears, can’t barely take a look at his tail to stuff it under his shirt. He looks like he’s only just rolled out of bed, appearance shabby and unkept, but Rin prefers that to watching himself now that he’s no longer one of God’s creations.

He prays by his bedside every night - even more so now that he can’t go to mass, Rin has started praying obsessively since Shiro died - has his rosary around his neck even though it makes his skin itch and takes it everywhere he goes. He always blesses the table before eating, thanking God for the food he’s provided for them.

Every time he uses his flames, Rin feels like a sinner. This are the flames of Satan, the flames of the original sinner, God’s antithesis. Using them feels like forsaking God just like God has forsaken him, but Rin finds no joy in it. As the flames die out and Rin’s freaky demonic features recede, he bows his head and prays. “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” he says, trying and failing to feel better about himself.

His friends notice, after all secrets are out in the open and Rin doesn’t have to hide them anymore, and they look at him strangely for it, like his apology to God is out of the norm. Maybe they don’t think Rin would be religious, as the son of Satan. Maybe they just think it’s strange that he’s looking for absolution. They don’t comment on it until much later, when Bon tells him that he’s not a sinner just because he uses Satan’s flames. Bon is much smarter than Rin, so infinitely smarter, so Rin tries to believe him. He never stops praying though.

When he first realizes his feelings for Bon are less than platonic, his first instinct is to go to the confessionary and confess his sin. But the only priest he’s confessed to is Shiro, and Shiro is dead (Shiro is dead), and what priest would give absolution to a demon? So Rin doesn’t go, stewing on his guilt and thinking about it obsessively (“Forgive me father, for I have sinned. This is my first-tenth-hundredth-thousandth confession.” “Forgive me Father, for I want, and I do not know how to stop wanting.”). Is it because he’s the Son of Satan? Was he born a sinner, always meant to stray from God’s path like Satan did? How can he follow God’s will when he’s fallen in love with a boy?

Later, he realizes Shiro would have probably been fine with it, and if Shiro approves… maybe it’s not so wrong. Maybe Rin isn’t sinning when he looks at Bon feeling butterflies in his stomach, isn’t straying from God’s intended path when Bon’s laugh makes him happy. And if this is not a sin then maybe being a halfling isn’t either. Maybe it’s not God that has forsaken him, but the Catholic Church.

(The Vatican will never love him. They have casted him as the villain before he could even prove himself one of God’s believers, and they’ll never let him forget who his father is, and what he’s done. He’ll never be able to visit freely, to marvel at the beautiful structures and the holiness of it all. It hurts. But it hurts less than thinking he’s beyond saving, that God has given up on saving him.

The Vatican can suck it.)

Rin tries going to church again. It’s a daunting task, after days and weeks and months without stepping foot inside a chapel, but Rin finds himself sitting on the third row at the Sunday mass held near True Cross Academy, and feels the knot in his stomach loosen as he listens to the priest. It’s familiar. It’s liberating. Rin feels a little more like himself. Bon is waiting for him at the school gates when he’s done, looking immensely proud and Rin takes his hand in his and lets the feeling of contentment wash over him.

He still prays. He still blesses the table. He still recites verses of the Bible even if they hurt him, and he still refuses to go to a confessionary.

But he can stand to look at himself in the mirror now. He resumes his confirmation process, even knowing he may never be allowed the actual sacrament. He lets himself see a world where he can be the son of Satan and a good Christian, where he can love a boy who’s beautiful and good to him without disappointing God. It’s a different world than the one he lived in before, but Rin thinks it’s a world Shiro would be proud of.

It’s a start.

——————————

(This is my interpretation as I was raised Catholic and went to a Catholic school all my life. I’m nowhere near as devoted as I’m making Rin here lol, but I grew up around Catholic religion and know people who are very hardcore Catholics, so this, as well as my own religious education, is where I draw my knowledge from.)

(Also, I want to clarify that a lot of Rin’s thoughts are in no way healthy, and he will grow to let go of them in time. This is the result of a very traumatic situation that left him stranded with no sense of direction, and some of his actions stem from a need to overcompensate for being half demon. He’ll get better as he learns to deal with that reality.)

Update: my brain won’t stop eating at me so this has turned into a thing (tm). Let’s call it revelations au because I think I’m funny. You can find all my posts about it through that tag in my profile.

[cloudydoesstuff]

PSA: the average book page is about 250-300 words.

now here is how i consider fic lengths:

short one shot: 1000-3000

small multi chapter: 3000-20,000

longer multi chapter fic but on the shorter side: 40,000-90,000

sizable multi chapter deep fic: 100,000-300,000

big fic: 400,000+

ofc these are estimates, and I don’t know if others have the same perception as I do or not, BUT my point is, that 20,000 word smaller multi chapter? That’s how long animal farm is. aka 110 pages. The ‘longer multi chapter fic’ is probably what most novels are in length, with 80,000 words being around 320 pages. That constantly updating 250,000 word fic your following? 1000 pages. That is a huge book. Never mind the absolutely massive fics out there bigger than that.

When I came to this realization, I was sort of proud of myself for reading full length novels within a day. But yk who I’m really proud of? The writers. The amazing amazing writers who provide us these beautiful works of art for free. Writers who write these humongous fics while working a full time job. Writers who ‘can only’ write a ‘small’ fic of 4000 words, the equivalent of 16 pages of a novel. I’ve always appreciated what fic writers do, but me putting this connection together brings it to a whole other level.

Thank you writers.

[thegreatsolaris]

Blood continued to drip from the gash he’d gotten on his forehead. He pulled out his own handkerchief. He had gotten it at Yamaoka’s insistence. Nanjo wasn’t even sure why he was pressing it to make it stop.

Two Princes Chapter 3: Eulogy

Pairing: Kei Nanjo/Hidehiko “Brown” Uesugi

Rating: Mature

Warning: Character death, Verbal abuse

>>>AO3 LINK<<<

This chapter is one of the saddest yet :( Poor Nanjo is just so confused and disassociating pretty bad… @possessedartist told me to stop writing things that make him cry, but I can’t help it! I’m just funny like that! Hope you all enjoy this latest installment (or well as much as you can, that is). And please tell me and my beloved all your thoughts and feelings~~!

[catlady1986]

Chapters: 41/? Fandom: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Karl Heisenberg/Ethan Winters Characters: Ethan Winters, Karl Heisenberg, Chris Redfield, Hound Wolf Squad (Resident Evil), Mother Miranda (Resident Evil), Alcina Dimitrescu, Donna Beneviento, Salvatore Moreau, The Duke (Resident Evil), Original Characters Additional Tags: Language, Blood and Violence, Death, Rebirth, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Rating will go up, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Masturbation, Emotional Constipation, Blood and Gore, Amputation, Suicide Summary:

Being given another chance at saving his daughter, Ethan returns to the village that turned his life upside down. But with the threat of old and new foes, he may have to accept help from someone he rejected before.

[the-tmnt-ficfinder]

What are some of your personal favorite fics? Whether they're on the list already or no!

Oh gosh, I've read a lot of really wonderful fanfics!! For me personally, my favorite fanfics are always the ones that have elicited a strong response out of myself. I'll go ahead and list a few that I've really enjoyed! Note, they aren't in any particular order of favoritism. I like them all!! If they're already in my list, the link supplied is the one leading to the appraised version listed on my Fanfic List Masterpost! If its not in my list, then I simply supplied the direct link to the fic on Ao3 ^^ I hope you give some of these a try!! I wholeheartedly recommend them all!!

When I Was Younger by @sketchiefoxie & @inkypawprint (Rottmnt Fanfic) Summary: It’s a month after the invasion, and the Mad Dogs believe they’ve left the worst behind themselves. Though their whole world is shook when none other than their future selves, not Casey’s future versions, but themselves come back to the past. Something big is coming; something involving the Krang and the Foot clan, and it isn’t good.

The Lemonade Leak by @turtleinsoup (Rottmnt Fanfic) Summary: "Leo can not sleep, because there is a thing in Donnie's lab, pretending to be his twin. Or: It turns out that being created as a biological super soldier comes with a few... modifications. Some of those, more dangerous than others."

firefight by @remedyturtles (Rottmnt Fanfic) Summary: Donnie collided with Leo in a tangle of limbs. There was an instinctive cling in return from his twin, before the realization sunk in. "No." Leo breathed in his ear, immediately shattered. "No, no, no, no, no!” Every muscle in Donnie's body was shaking like an earthquake from the amount of effort he'd just expended. The explosion caught up to them, sending the twins spiralling away into space and debris. For one singular moment, Donnie allowed himself a burst of victory. His heart was still thudding a thousand miles an hour in his chest, having been absolutely terrified he wasn't going to make it in time. But he did. And he held onto Leo, his prize. Then they hit the ground, the sudden tumble bursting them apart. Donnie felt the world spin, rapid and disorientating, before he slammed into something rock and cracking under his impact. or: donnie doesn’t let leo go to hell alone

My Life, Their Story by @azucar-skull (Rottmnt Fanfic) (You'll) Get Through It (MLTS Part 1) Summary: After saving the world from the Kraang, (Leo included), Mikey suffers from severe nerve damage in his arms. This disability takes over his entire life, causing a lot of chaos. Right Now Is Real (MLTS Part 2) Summary: Raph grew up with nightmare disorder, something that he was born with that gradually got worse over time due to PTSD, especially after the Kraang incident. This leads to Raph becoming a danger to himself and others as everyone tries to help him seek out help. The Show Must Go On (MLTS Part 3) Summary: Leo deals with severe depression and PTSD after the events of the movie as he strives to be a better brother. Freak Of Nature (MLTS Part 4) Summary: After Donnie thought he lost everything, he ended up losing even more. Including his mind. Or; Donnie has a gun--

Down With The Stockholm by @devotedtosadpoetry (Rottmnt Fanfic) Summary: Leonardo is captured and experimented on until he is turned exactly into what they want him to be. Some things cannot be undone. Meanwhile, mutants and yokai are in hiding, fearful of this powerful entity.

Revelations Timeline AU by @idk-im-just-here-now (Rottmnt Fanfic) Song of a Sunny Day (fading into dusk) Part 1 Summary: It's been a month after the Kraang invasion. The lair has been filled with nothing but the sounds of a heart monitor and quiet. It's too quiet for Mikey, so he goes on a solo run of the city. He finds a violin case on the ground and decides to take it home. After all, what could go wrong with learning an instrument? As it turns out, quite a lot. Memories of a Tyrant (locked in a prison) Part 2 Summary: After the events of the Kraang invasion, Donnie has thrown himself fully back into his work. This time though, he has a new companion, who keeps reminding him of events too close to be called the past and slithering through his head... The Ghosts That Wander (and the monsters who follow) Part 3 Summary: Being in a coma is not fun, but somehow, neither is not being in a coma. As Leo finally comes to after the invasion, things around the Lair look very different - and not in any kind of way that Leo likes. The Call Of A Parasite (hunting the hivemind) Part 4 Summary: Its been one week since the invasion, and everything is still in a near critical state. Overwhelmed by it all, and the fear of becoming a monster once more, Raph takes to the ruined streets of New York But barely a week has passed, meaning open ground is still crawling with the remnants of the Kraang. And Raph begins to learn.

Adagio in Green: Panacea by @boxfullaturtles (Rottmnt Fanfic) Summary: They stopped the apocalypse, but it's left them in bad shape. Leo's shell is in pieces. Mikey won't wake up. Donnie can hardly move. Raph's barely holding himself together. They're going to need all the help they can get to survive in the wake of the invasion. It’s a good thing they’re not alone. --------- A post-movie story about processing grief and trauma, and how the road to recovery isn't always a straight line.

So, I guess... we all have issues by SpectrumWriting on Ao3 (TMNT 2012 Fanfic) Summary: Mikey wasn't insane. He knew he wasn't. He really did have three brothers and a father, no matter what his paperwork said. Also, none of his family was human, and neither was he. That was the truth about him, no matter what anyone else thought. (Sticking by that truth got him thrown into an asylum. What a surprise.) **Winner of FIRST PLACE in the Universal TMNT Mature Fanfic Competition 2016 for MOST COMPELLING AU, and winner of SECOND PLACE for MOST SPOT ON PORTRAYAL OF MICHELANGELO.**

Thank you for the ask!! I really enjoyed answering this one, and I hope you enjoy some of the fics I listed!! Any of them that aren't in my list, will be added eventually. Have a wonderful day! ^^

[fabseg-creator]

Chrysabug: Busted!

I've drawn a Chrysabug scene. Ladybug and Chrysalis are trapped in a locker that blocked by rubbles of a building. Cat Noir, Rena Rouge, Vesperia and Ryuko clean the rubbles for rescue both their friend and the villainess. While the heroes opened the locker, Ladybug and Chrysalis had an intimate moment together indoor. The two adversaries are busted.

The story:

Ladybug and Cat Noir have defeated an akumatized supervillain. But after the Lucky Charm has repaired all the damages and Ladybug and Cat Noir were going to go home each other, Chrysalis ambushes Ladybug.

While the two nemesies fought against each other, Cat Noir comes to help his Lady. But Chrysalis knocks out the Catboy.

The Butterfly villainess flees away and Ladybug tracks down her until an abandoned warehouse. The two Miraculous teenage girls made a second round indoor when suddenly the warehouse brutally collapses. A big piece of the roof falls at the place where Chrysalis was and Ladybug ran to the former for save her by tackling her (like in rugby). Meanwhile, the tackling brought the two girls inside of a locker. The warehouse has definitively fallen and the rubbles block the locker's door. Ladybug and Chrysalis are trapped in there together.

Ladybug calls Cat Noir with the yo-yo for indicate him the location. When Cat Noir arrives to the place. He calls by phonecall the other heroes across Paris for help. Rena Rouge is the first to join Cat Noir. Ryuko comes at next moment. And Vesperia too. All of these superheroines were the only ones in service in this moment.

They use their superpowers for remove the rubbles (especially Cat Noir for turn the rubbles into dust with the Cataclysm) and rescue Ladybug. She didn't called anybody since her last message sent to Cat Noir.

After cleaning the damages, they finally have got access to the locker. Now, they must save Ladybug. Meanwhile, when they open the door, they see a unimaginable thing in front of them:

Ladybug and Chrysalis are kissing together in love each other. 😳💋

BUSTED!

The End(?)/To be continued(?).

The reactions:

They are mainly surprised and confused.

Rena Rouge (deceived and disgusted; thinking): Wtf ?! Marinette ! 🤨😒

Vesperia has a blushing panic. 😳🤯

Cat Noir is lost in his own thoughts. He sees her Lady flirting and kissing with their common enemy. 🤨

Ryuko is a bit of astonished. She knows Marinette is Ladybug but: Where is Adrien in this revelation ? 😯🧐

Ladybug and Chrysalis are suddenly ashamed about the Miraculous team who discovered their secret. The two adversaries had their lips still contact each other in same time. Their thoughts:

Ladybug: Fuck !!

Chrysalis: Damn it !

[another-lost-mc]

Temptation scares you, and you decide it's better to move on and forget - if Michael will let you.

Penance | MICHAEL x gn!Reader 2.1k words | NSFW | Mutual Obsession | Smut Content Warnings: Obsessive thoughts, feelings of guilt and shame, power imbalance, mind games, marking, suggestive themes and sexual content. A/N: This is the sequel to Blasphemy.

Things changed after you spoke to Michael.

You happily indulged in your insatiable curiosity to learn more about him, and you imagined what it would be like to have him touch you. You never felt guilty thinking about him before.

You didn't feel guilty because you didn’t think he knew about those things. His call was a rude awakening. Perhaps he knew all along, and it's mortifying to think about.

You didn’t sleep well that night, or the next several nights after. A few days after your little chat, you stare at the listing in your call history - UNKNOWN NUMBER - and finally gather the courage to call him back. There’s no response. The line rings and rings and rings, until you can’t stand it anymore and hang up.

You haven’t heard from him since. Was he toying with you, teasing you to make you feel shame for what you’ve done?

Sometimes you wonder if you imagined the entire conversation in some sort of dream. You’re not sure what to think or feel about him now, but you can’t linger in this mental no man’s land forever.

Maybe it’s best to put aside your guilt and your uncertainties. You don’t understand what happened between you and Michael, so you decide to reimagine the truth instead.

You didn’t have some weird, pining crush on the archangel you’ve never met.

He didn’t know you were touching yourself to thoughts of him and what you wanted to do with him, or for him, or have him do to you.

He didn’t call you and tease you with that deep, rough voice that promised something sinful as punishment if you continued to tempt him this way.

You tell yourself none of those things happened, and you try to move on.

You stop reading the chat history with Michael that you took from Luke and Simeon’s phones.

You stop asking your demon friends questions about Michael, or the Celestial Realm, or anything else that reminds you of him.

You stop thinking about Michael when you touch yourself at night. The act becomes almost clinical now, simply a way to relieve stress. It’s not long before you stop touching yourself altogether - you have no idea who might be watching. 

You convince yourself things are better this way. It’s not like you knew Michael, so you can't really miss him. You distract yourself and focus on your life in the Devildom and the friends you’ve met, and you tell yourself that you don’t need more than this. You’re no longer greedy for things you can’t have, and you're not desperate for things that you shouldn’t want.

Even though you try to forget what happened, you have a sense of dreadful suspicion that Michael won’t let you.

There’s no way you can explain the strange dreams you start having about laying on a bed of golden feathers and a pair of eyes you’ve never seen, but you know whose they are, stare into yours.

There’s no way you can explain the feeling that someone is watching you when you’re alone, or the way your skin crawls when you’re by yourself. You feel trapped like prey no matter where you are or where you go.

There’s no way you can explain the way your body tingles sometimes, like you’ve been touched by some sort of strange magic. You clench your eyes shut and resist the urge to whimper his name, because you almost feel compelled to say it. 

You can’t explain the warm breath you feel across the back of your neck as someone chuckles quietly into your ear, mocking your futile attempts to ignore him.

You feel like you’re losing your mind and you know it’s his fault. You’re trying to be a better person. Isn’t that what you should do? Isn’t that what he should want too?

It feels like this is your punishment. At first, you think it’s punishment for thinking sinful thoughts and praying for sinful acts with the archangel himself. The alternative explanation is even more confusing to consider: what if this is punishment for trying to forget him?

You’re exhausted and go to bed early one night. Your bedding feels hot and scratchy against your skin, and even after you kick it aside, you still can’t get comfortable. You throw your arm over your eyes and groan. You just want to sleep, is that asking too much?

There’s a strange chill against your skin all of a sudden. You reach to pull the blankets back over you, but you realize they’re gone. Your bed is gone.

You sit up and stare all around you. You’re no longer in your room, but inside some strange, grey space. You can’t call it a room because it seems to go on endlessly. 

It’s only when you raise yourself to your knees that you realize you’re not alone. There’s something behind you - or someone - and it tugs at a memory you’ve tried to bury. You cover your face in your hands and shake your head.

This can’t be happening, this isn’t real, this can’t be happening—

“My lost little lamb,” a deep , familiar voice coos in your ear. He settles behind you, and you can feel his warmth at your back. Something soft brushes against your sides and wraps loosely around your front. His wings.

“You’re not real,” you whimper weakly into your hands. Your voice is muffled but you don’t care; you know the archangel conjured by your dreams understands you.

“I know humans aren’t very patient creatures, but I’m surprised how quickly you moved on,” he murmurs quietly as his hands settle on your waist and pull you back against him. It feels like he’s trying to comfort you. It’s confusing.

“I felt ashamed,” you admit truthfully, and it’s the first time you’ve uttered any words of remorse out loud.

Michael clicks his tongue. “I’m very busy, but perhaps I should have come to you sooner. I may have been…irritated when I realized you tried to forget about me. I won't make that mistake again.” He nuzzles against your jaw and it tickles. He chuckles when you shiver. “You’re more fetching than I remember.”

His hands grope your waist a bit more before they slowly slide up your sides and slip underneath your night shirt. His hands feel hot against your skin, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him over your shoulder. You can’t. 

“Are you flirting with me?” you ask, and your voice sounds incredulous rather than angry.

“Perhaps I am,” he says coyly, and you gasp when his lips brush against your neck.

You swallow thickly and shake your head, even as his hands climb higher over your belly and dance along the groove of your ribs. “We shouldn’t do this,” and it’s the last feeble protest you make before your resistance crumbles. Your actions betray your words because he nudges you to raise your arms, and you obey; he slips your shirt up and over your head. You don’t feel cold for long because his hands continue exploring your bare chest, and his feathers hold you against him so his body radiates heat to you.

“But this is only a dream, remember?” The words almost sound bitter, but you’re distracted as one of his hands slides back down to your waist and tugs playfully at the waistband of your sleep pants. “There’s no judgment here. I’ll give you what you ask, if you're brave enough to tell me what you want.”

He speaks the words so softly, but there’s an undercurrent of power in them that has you arching against his chest and leaning into his touch. You can’t lie to yourself anymore, and he’s never doubted your truth. “I want you.”

It’s like a tether snaps when he’s given permission to lose control, and you cry out when his hand dips into your pants and finds the evidence of your arousal between your legs. His fingers are relentless as he strokes you, and it feels like you’re drowning in heat and pleasure and sin. 

You can feel him grow hard against your back, but he's focused solely on you. He whispers filthy praise against your skin and encourages you to move with his touch, to enjoy his mercy and revel in the ecstasy he gives you. You haven't touched yourself in so long, and it’s impossible to last like this. He touches you so perfectly, but you bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning his name. It feels like you’re clinging to your last shred of dignity, and you shouldn’t even care about that in a dream, but giving in feels like it's too much to bear—

The only warning you get before he bites you is the rumbling groan reverberating in his chest. His mouth clamps down on your shoulder and you choke on a scream as he licks at the indents his teeth left behind.

“Don’t be shy now, little lamb,” he scolds you, panting against your neck like he’s the one being fondled by an angel. “All those nights I watched you, I learned what you like. Only I know how to give you what you crave. Don’t you think I deserve a reward too?” He licks at your earlobe and kisses your jaw. “Give it to me,” he demands in that powerful timbre that you’re powerless to resist.

You know what he wants, and you want to please him. His name falls from your lips in a pathetic whimper. He smiles against your skin and moves his hand against you, faster than before, as your reward. White-hot pleasure surges through your veins when he strokes you, and you're desperate for something to cling to. Your arms reach blindly for him, and he hums his approval at your desire to touch him.

Your fingers ding into one of the thighs bracketing your own, and the other finds purchase in his hair. You tug harder than you mean to, and his hips surge forward as a moan rips from his throat. He makes stuttering, aborted thrusts against your back like he's struggling to maintain his composure.

He's breathing heavily, and he grunts when your hips grind back against him. His evident desire for you is your undoing. You fall apart and coat his hand with your release; your broken cry sounds suspiciously like his name. His fingers coax you through the aftershocks, and he holds you while you ride out the last waves of pleasure. He finally pulls his hand away when you squirm from the sensitivity.

You tremble in his arms and he holds you tighter than he did before. “What about you?” you ask hoarsely. You can still feel how hard he is, and you're surprised he's asked for so little from you - you probably would've given him anything.

He’s oblivious to the sweat beading against your temple - or he doesn’t care - when he presses a kiss there and sighs wearily. “Next time,” he whispers.

You turn your head to try and glance at him over your shoulder, no longer afraid of him, but he stops you. His hand cradles the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss before you can see him properly.

“Sleep now, little lamb,” he murmurs against your lips—

You wake up with a gasp and thrash wildly until you realize you’re in the warm, soft comfort of your bed. You take gulping breaths and try to control your erratic heartbeat.

What the hell was that?

When you wiggle your hips, you feel the slightest bit of heat pool deep within your belly. Your pajama pants feel damp, and you realize the inside of your thighs are sticky. 

It’s not the first time you woke up like this after dreaming of the archangel, even if it has been a while, so you think nothing of it. You feel sluggish and exhausted, and it takes a couple of minutes for you to gather enough strength to sit up. You dangle your legs over the edge of the bed and stretch your arms, but a burning pain in your shoulder makes you wince.

An icy feeling grips your heart, and you stand on shaky legs and walk over to your vanity. You pull down the collar of your shirt and stare at the ring of teeth-shaped bruises in the mirror. You brush your fingers over the marks, and you swallow thickly as his murmured promise echoes in your mind.

Next time.

[ace-writer-lani]

Edit: lol I have decided to give the first sentence of each fic

-TCoS&D: "To put it lightly, Bianca was stressed."

-TLLoG: "Silently, Nico slipped into the office where he found Will hunched over...something."

-AA&A: "'He's watching again.'"

-TU&U: "'You're going to be late.'"

-AFR: "Jason thought he had died."

-L&L: "'Finished,' Will announced, barging into the room."

-LT: "The black-haired girl was starting to creep Clarisse out."

[jojosquires]

Here it is. The old-fashioned recap episode that no one asked for, but...I just love writing dialogue, dude. Hope you like it.

In this episode, everything hits the fan! Flash trauma dumps about his life for a bit. Dick kinda hates himself. Everyone says semi-mean things to each other. Two direct references to comics dialogue. I use the phrase 'Static Crotch'... Umm, all the Tim-uli are present!

Hope you enjoy this classic "clip episode" (without the clips)...like you can go back and read where all the referenced stuff happens. I wouldn't recommend it, but that's how it would be edited if this were a TV show.

Have a popsicle or, if it's cold where you are, a hot beverage of your choice. I'm gonna watch TV and contemplate why I'm sticking with this sitcom when I'm not sure I like any of the characters.