#he is too. divine. his voice is heaven on earth….

[vulcanette]

alkaline from prague;

🎥: @ arianacherise

[minswriting]

No Higher Being Than You - Spencer Reid x Reader

about: for all my girlies who love munch spencer, here is a one shot about spencer worshipping you like you’re a god

warnings: NSFW content, minors do not interact, oral (f receiving), hair pulling, religious comparisons, not an accurate depiction of religion whatsoever.

word count: 0.6k

Ever since Spencer was a young boy, he had never really believed in a higher power. His mother was a paranoid schizophrenic and his father was never really around. Religion was never a topic of his childhood. How could it be? Spencer had to raise himself. And by doing so, he read many books, one of them including the Bible. When he read the Bible, he didn’t believe any of it to be true. It was all fictitious, nothing of real value that could explain how the world came to be. The scientific theories about the world had always made much more sense than a silly book. So it was safe to say that religion was not something Spencer believed in. He was a man of science.

Until he met you.

When you had walked into the coffee shop that Spencer frequently went to before work, he was completely mesmerized. The Boy Genius didn’t care for beauty most of the time. He wasn’t really too interested in people as a whole until he had met Maeve. But as he saw you, took in your appearance, he couldn’t help but thank the Lord above for blessing him with such a sight. And he had thanked the Lord once more when you had given him your number that exact day.

And ever since then, the two of you had clicked.

Not only were you the most beautiful person Spencer had ever laid eyes upon, you were the kindest and sweetest person ever. Your smile radiated the room each time you walked in, your laugh was music to Spencer’s ears. You were a mixture of funny, sarcastic, intelligent. You truly were a divine being. Spencer was completely and utterly enamored by you. He never failed to make sure you were shown just how much he adored you. Especially right now.

Spencer’s tongue lapped around your cunt, taking in the sweet essence that were your juices. You tasted magical as though derived from the Garden of Eden. The forbidden fruit that was worth every drop. Spencer took his time eating you out, savoring each and every moment. His nose rubbed against your clit as he tongued your hole. If premarital coitus were truly a sin, God wouldn’t have made it so lovely.

You were whining and moaning beneath him, your hand tugging his brown curls. Your sounds were beautiful, everything Spencer could’ve dreamed of. The hitch of your breath, the arching of your back, the curling of your toes, all because of Spencer’s touch. It was a blessing to be with you and his reward was making you feel good in any way he could.

“S-Spencer!” You moaned, tugging at his hair.

Spencer replied with a moan, burying his face deeper into your cunt. The vibrations of his voice sent tingles into your pussy, causing you to whine in pleasure. He moved his mouth to suck on your clit, swirling his tongue around the nub. You let out a high pitched moan, relishing in the pleasures Spencer was giving you. And Spencer could tell just how close you were.

You were his muse, his higher being. If God were real, you were it. You were the divine entity from the Heavens, blessing the Earth with every fiber in your being. When you came, thighs clenching around Spencer’s face, he felt praised by the skies. And he didn’t stop there. He made sure to make you cum multiple times.

Spencer Reid isn’t a religious man. But meeting you had given him a new meaning of religion. You were his higher being, his one true God to worship. And you absolutely knew it.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Married!Konig who fell in love with a young reader,who really understands and accepts him (and is also interested in his retellings of history and lego! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ) and who is not afraid of his friends.

Like this big guy really fell in love for the first time.

He doesn't know why he married his wife. It's not just something that he tells you to make you feel better - he genuinely has no idea on why the hell he decided to spend last few years with her. He is picking up deployment after deployment, never home for longer than a few weeks, and always trying to get the office duty. It's funny how he initially married to get out of the barracks, but now he does everything to never stay in the house with his wife. It's not that she is awful - he just...he feels empty. Never understood in the way that he wants. She is always on edge whenever she gets a pointed commentary on his interests and everything else similar. But you, the pretty barista from his favorite little coffee shop, is like an angel coming down to Earth. Your face is adorable, your voice is like a heaven's song, and your tits look divine in that tight apron. You joke around him getting his espresso with 4 shots of caffeine each time, and he gets you too many tips if you bite your lip and look at him like a fucking Bambi. You never intended to be his shoulder to cry on, but you're way too polite to ignore a guy in a miserable marriage who leaves you 200% tip almost every time. You genuielly like talking to him - and for the first time in his life, he feels seen. Heard. You're not just listening to him because you want money or because you're too shy to refuse. You engage in a conversation, you add your thoughts, you even enlighten him on a few things he didn't know about lego and some of the animes you two have both watched. You're pretty, funny, and adorable, and divorce papers materialized in his hands the first time you accidentally bumped into him, your perfect boobs squeezing against his muscular shoulder. You called him a big guy that one time. Konig thought he was going to cum in his pants right there.

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 13: Lingerie

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Lingerie (✨)

Summary: You buy red lingerie just for Matt, and he enjoys it to the fullest.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), oral fem!receiving, mentions of p in v, lingerie, face-sitting

Word Count: 951

A/n: Matt would go feral if you surprised him with lingerie, and that's a fact.

Read Me On AO3!

You bought this piece just for him—this red, silken piece of sin you paid a fortune for. The fabric is incredibly soft to the touch, running through fingers like water. 

Matt rests his hand on your chest, over your heart. His fingers dig into the silk that covers the body he worships, and he has to bite into the flesh of his cheek to stop himself from moaning. You did this for him. 

He likes you naked. He likes you spread out for him. He likes the feel of your skin against his, but God, you’re wearing lingerie made of the softest fabric the earth has ever seen, and his cock is already so fucking hard against his stomach. 

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, hands roaming over you so he can paint a picture of you in his head. A picture of you wearing this. 

You gently take his other hand and place it on your upper thigh. “Here,” you say.

His heart pounds against his ribcage like a chainsaw. “Fuck,” he grunts. 

You’re wearing a fucking garter belt, too. 

He’s sure he must have died sometime tonight and gone to heaven. You can’t possibly be real. So beautiful, so hot, and you are all his. His to touch, command, and take until you are begging for mercy.

You did this for him.

“I love you,” he says, bringing his lips to where the fabric has ridden up above your belly button. “I love you so much.”  

His breath is warm against your skin—warm and wet, and desperate. 

“I want you to ride my face.”

Your heart stutters. “What?”

Matt lifts his unfocused gaze toward the sound of your voice. “I want you to ride my face. Right here,” he pulls you into his lap, “wearing this.”

Oh.

He has had you in all sorts of compromising positions, but this… this is something else. The thought of him lapping at your pussy as you’re kneeling above him is both incredibly arousing and absolutely terrifying, but if there is anyone you would trust with your life, it’s him.

He falls back against the mattress, taking you down with him. His lips taste like home, the kiss he presses to your lips so full of love that you forget for a moment what this is even about.

Greedy hands roam the silky lingerie, and your pussy starts to ache for him. For his fingers, for his cock, and his lips on you. You need him to touch you, to drive you to the brink of death just to pull you back with nothing but his magical tongue. You need him. 

Matt pulls you higher, your legs now resting on either side of his head. You must look divine like this. He can smell you through the thin fabric of those sheer panties, soaked through and ready for him. He wants to dig his finger into you, to drink from you like a spring carved by God himself. 

The panties are the easiest to get out of the way; they barely cover you as is, and it makes him wonder if you would let him keep them for the nights you’re not there and he needs something of yours to keep him company—to jerk off to.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m okay.”

And ready, though the words die on your tongue before you can utter them.

His hands soothe your shaky muscles, tangling in the garter belt around the plump flesh of your thigh, and without a warning, he pulls you down. 

You cry out into the quiet of the room. His mouth covers your pussy as he feasts, tongue darting between your folds and to your clit. The moan he breathes into your core is utterly guttural. 

“Ride me,” he begs, the silk now bundled in his fist. “C’mon.” 

Hesitantly, you bury your fingers in his hair, and you start to rock your hips in sync with the desperate drag of his tongue. You chase that high, the pleasure that is curling in the pit of your stomach and spreading through your pussy like a wildfire.

Matt pulls at the lingerie, knuckles white with his flailing self-restraint. He’s telling you to move faster, to lock your legs around his head and ride his face until he suffocates. He wants your orgasm. He wants to drink your essence like a fine glass of wine. If he could, he would even drown in you.

He cups your breast, feeling your heart race underneath. It’s silk, silk all over. You feel like a cloud—a fucking cloud. 

“Matthew,” you breathe. 

He’s still fisting the garter belt, teeth dragging over your flesh and soothing it with the tip of his tongue. The pleasure tightens its noose around you. 

He tugs, and tugs, and tugs. Your orgasm keeps building, reaching the crescendo of the symphony you’re playing. You’re so close. 

You don’t know where to put your hands anymore, and he’s so immersed in eating you out, the sight alone is enough to set fire to the rain; the fabric snaps, suddenly and without warning, and with it, the wave finally crashes into you.  

You couldn’t have seen this coming, couldn’t have anticipated what only a piece of fabric could do to him. He rocked your world. He always does, but tonight, it felt different; it felt different and you loved it.

You slowly come back to yourself, lying there completely boneless as he pries himself away from you. 

Matt props himself up on his elbow beside you. You look over at him, the content expression on his face, and it makes you smile. “Lingerie, huh?” you say.

He hums in agreement, “Lingerie.”

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @steve-chandler @lucienofthelakes @xnatyx @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @zomtart @ethereal-blaze

[nosyp]

Crowned by Desire

Chapter 1

A/N = This was inspired by @kupidachillea, pls check out her work too🙏

Warning = dark, yandere, toxic stuff, read at ur own risk PLEASE

Pairings = Greek Gods x reader

Summary = Thrown into the realm of gods, you become the center of their dangerous intrigue. Some see you as a temptation, others as a threat... but what will you become in their immortal world?

Word count = 1.2k words

Story down below 👇 (READ AT UR OWN RISK PLEASEEEE)

You were beautiful. Your life was pretty much amazing. You had food, shelter and clothes, you pretty much had everything you needed. Oh how you wished you could go back…

It all changed when you found yourself trapped in the realm of the gods.

At first, you thought it was a dream. One minute, you were walking down the street, the sun shining on your face, a soft breeze ruffling your hair. The next, a wave of blinding light enveloped you, pulling you into a world far beyond your understanding. This place wasn’t like Earth. It was something ancient, untouchable, dark.

You took a step forward. And another, and another. One foot after the other, you gradually got closer. You could hear a cacophony of voices behind the door. And finally… using all your might, you pushed the door open… only to reveal a whole new area. 

And it was… the gods.

At first, you couldn't believe your eyes. The moment you stepped through the threshold, you were met with a huge palace, glowing with an ethereal light that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Columns of gold and marble stretched high into the heavens, and the air buzzed with an unnatural energy. It was one that made you feel small, insignificant. 

The gods were real. They weren’t just stories and myths from a book. They were here, in front of you, with… their eyes trained on you like a hungry pack of wolves waiting for their prey.

Apollo, the ever-so-radiant god of the sun, was the first to approach. His golden hair shimmered with every move of his very being, and his eyes, those eyes… saw right through you, as if he could read every thought and desire in your mind. He smiled at you, slow and deliberate, his gaze never leaving yours. "Ah, a new guest," he murmured, voice smooth like honey, but with an edge of something darker beneath. "How... quaint. Who might you be?"

You opened your mouth to say something, to demand an explanation, but the words died in your throat. Then the moment you tried to open your mouth, Zeus just had to make his presence known with a thunderous clap. The room seemed to shake as he stepped forward, his large, commanding figure overshadowing everyone around him. His gaze was both terrifying and enthralling as he took you in with an almost imperceptible smirk.

"You don't belong here," he rumbled, his voice a mixture of power and amusement. "You should go, while we still let you."

Before you could even respond, another God appeared from behind you. Hades. His eyes were like two burning embers, glowing with a strange intensity. He observed you with the same cool detachment he reserved for souls, but something in his gaze made your breath hitch.

“Wait! I think we should… keep them,” he says, with a peculiar tone.

What the? Why would they want to keep you? You were practically nothing compared to them.

Eros, the god of love, smirked as he walked past, brushing a finger along your cheek. A shiver ran down your spine. "Don’t you see? She’s special," he said with a chuckle, his voice smooth but edged with cruelty. "In a world of gods, she’s a rarity. The temptation, the ultimate prize." His lips twisted into something wicked, a stark contrast to the sweetness his domain implied.

The temptation? Your heart pounded as you silently questioned his words. What did he mean?

Before you could dwell on it, a sharp voice echoed through the grand hall, shaking you to your core.

“WHO IS THAT?”

All heads turned toward the staircase. Hera stood at the top, her figure illuminated by the divine glow of the palace. Her presence was intense, her piercing gaze like a blade.

Her finger pointed directly at you, her voice dripping with venom. "Who dares bring that... thing here?"

The room tensed. You swallowed hard, heat rising to your face as Hera's fury bore down on you.

“Woah, woah! Wait a second,” Hermes interjected, stepping forward with his usual carefree grin and a mock air of surrender. “Let’s not go burning the palace down just yet, Hera.”

His attempt at humor fell flat. Hera’s sharp gaze flicked to him, silencing whatever joke he was about to follow up with.

Your mouth acted before your brain could catch up. "Y-Yeah, Hera... maybe there’s been a misunderstanding?” You winced at how small your voice sounded, but what else could you do?

Her eyes snapped back to you, fiery and unrelenting. "Silence!"

The room was silent for a moment, the air crackling with unspoken energy. Hera’s piercing glare held steady, but it was clear the others were pondering what to do with you.

Zeus stepped forward, his imposing frame radiating authority. "Enough," he commanded, his thunderous voice cutting through the tension. "This mortal is here, whether by fate or folly. The question is… what shall we do with her?"

His words sparked a ripple of murmurs among the gods. Some exchanged curious glances, while others looked at you like a puzzle to be solved—or prey to be devoured.

"Send her back," Hera snapped, her tone sharp and unyielding. "She’s a nuisance at best, a danger at worst."

"Now, now," Dionysus chimed in with a sly grin, stepping closer to you. His gaze lingered in a way that made your skin crawl. "Why waste such… potential? What if we kept her?" He tilted his head, feigning innocence, though the glint in his eye betrayed darker intentions. "As a servant... or perhaps a plaything?"

Your heart dropped. Plaything? You took an instinctive step back, your hands trembling at your sides.

Hades, who had remained silent up until now, raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "Interesting suggestion," he mused, his voice low and smooth. "But a mortal in our realm... as anything more than a servant? It’s unprecedented."

Apollo leaned casually against a nearby pillar, his golden aura shimmering faintly. "Unprecedented doesn’t mean impossible," he said, his voice laced with amusement. His gaze flickered to you, a smirk playing on his lips. "She could prove... entertaining."

"Entertaining?" Hera’s voice was practically a roar, her fury reigniting. "You would reduce our divine realm to a circus for a mortal?"

Hermes cut in, raising his hands in mock surrender once more. "Relax, Hera. We’re just brainstorming here. No one’s decided anything… yet."

"But I think we all agree on one thing," Zeus interjected, his booming voice silencing the growing bickering. His eyes locked onto you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "She’s not leaving. Not yet."

The room went still. Every gaze turned to you, their collective attention making your breath hitch.

"Let’s see," Zeus continued, his tone contemplative. "Perhaps she can prove her worth. If she’s to remain here, she’ll need to serve a purpose. A servant, a messenger... or something else entirely." His smile widened, but it wasn’t comforting. "Let’s see what fate has in store for our unexpected guest."

A/N = I'm probs js gonna short-short chapters for this series... PLS FEEDBACK IF U CAN

[yuesya]

A startled shout rips its way out of Imunlaukr’s throat, and he scrambles to escape from the deluge of ice and snow thundering down upon them all.

Decarabian had warned them that it would be dangerous –but not all had heeded their warning. Imunlaukr among them; as the one who’d entreated for the god to come to Sal Vindagnyr to save them, he felt that… he had a duty, to remain and see things through to the end.

And of the Mondstadtian knights who followed Decarabian, there were also those who continued to press onwards at their god’s side. Decarabian had not spoken any further after their warning, allowing them to make their own choice.

Which was a curious thing –ordinarily, a god would simply order those who followed them when they perceived ‘human foolishness,’ but from what he had seen Decarabian had never–

“RUN FASTER!” A sharp voice barks into his ear, causing Imunlaukr to jolt slightly from the sudden volume and close proximity of it. Knight-Captain Gerhard grabs his arm, yanking him along, “The mountain is–!”

With an earth-shaking, thunderous groan, the entire cavern collapses on top of them–

Or it would’ve, if a sudden Anemo-laced wind had not swept them off their feet and blasted them through the crumbling ice and stone, dumping them out on the open snowy mountainside.

Heart pounding heavily in his chest and gasping as the icy wind of the biting air cuts into his face, Imunlaukr immediately looks upwards into the sky.

Decarabian floats in the air, long black hair whipping out wildly behind them as the winds howl around them. They raise their blade, and swing down–

And the Divine Nail splits.

Imunlaukr sees it.

With a thunderous crack that echoes in the land around them, the Divine Nail splits into three separate sections. The backlash of it blows outwards like an invisible pulse of pressure, sending Imunlaukr crashing to the ground amid the sudden blizzard that picks up sharply –most certainly not a coincidence, not with this timing.

The Divine Nail trembles, and the entire mountain shakes with it.

Decarabian throws their arm back in a flinging motion, and with another pulse of powerful Anemo energy, proceeds to scatter the shattered pieces of the Divine Nail.

Hope, joyous and wild, races through Imunlaukr at the sight–

But from the cavernous fissure from where the Divine Nail had pierced down deep into the ground, there is suddenly a fountain of some –some strange, dark energy that rises in its place. The black-violet energy surges up, engulfing Decarabian entirely–

“No–!”

–and a massive pillar of lightning strikes down from the heavens, directly where Decarabian had once been. Directly atop the dark energy, smothering it just as it had swallowed Decarabian in turn.

Even from this distance, despite the wind and snow, Imunlaukr feels as if he’s being scorched. His eyes shut reflexively, for it’s too bright to watch–

And when it clears, when everything is still and silent again… there’s nothing.

Nothing.

…

Imunlaukr scrambles to his feet, and starts running. Half a heartbeat later, the Knight-Captain is racing behind him, both of them running towards the yawning pit once occupied by the Divine Nail, where Decarabian had vanished.

Decarabian– Had they–?

“My Lord!”

Imunlaukr pauses at the edge of the newly-formed ravine splitting the ground; Knight-Captain Gerhard, however, has zero compunctions about leaping in without a thought. The man pulls out his sword and drives it into the side of the pit as he falls, reducing the speed of his rapid descent ever so slightly as he chases after his god.

Imunlaukr grits his teeth, and follows.

It’s a dangerous, bumpy path down. Imunlaukr acquires several new injuries in the process, but perseveres. And at the very bottom of this rocky pit–

Decarabian.

Imunlaukr had thought that he would finally be able to breathe a sigh of relief upon finding the god, but…

But Decarabian is unconscious. There is no trace of that strange dark energy lingering anywhere anymore, but they’re unconscious, and–

There’s something strange happening to them. Their body is shrinking–

No, not just shrinking. It’s like they’re growing younger, the body of a youth becoming that of a young child once more. Their ink-black hair is changing color, shifting into ever-lighter shades of gray and becoming white by the end of it all.

Imunlaukr watches, frozen and stunned by the inexplicable sight in front of him, as Decarabian becomes a child.

The reflection of a god’s image… is also a representation of their power. Typically, a god who has reached maturity and is in the prime of their power wears the form of a youth, or adult. So for Decarabian to change like this, for Sal Vindagnyr–

“… No.” The utterance is soft, quiet. It slips from Imunlaukr’s lips without him even realizing it, not until the quiet whisper of No echoes back at him from the rocky cavern. “I… I never thought…”

“Save your words.” The Knight-Captain’s voice is frigid, severe. Imunlaukr dips his head, understanding the man’s cold rage. “What you just saw here –you must not utter a word of it to anyone. Do you understand?”

… Because Decarabian is a god of battle. The Great Hunter, who protects their people from dangerous monsters, and is the sworn enemy of Andrius, the Lord of Beasts. If it were to become known that Decarabian had been so severely weakened and was in a vulnerable state…!

Why?

Why did you do it? We… the people of Sal Vindagnyr aren’t your worshipers, nor your followers. So why would you… for Sal Vindagnyr… pay such a steep price?

…

“I understand,” Imunlaukr grips his hands into fists. “I and my entire bloodline, for as long as we exist in this world, will serve and protect Lord Decarabian and Mondstadt. This I so swear.”

[florawrites-blog]

Jake and you had been at each other's throats for what felt like a week straight. The tension was thick enough to cut with a butter knife—and all of it started over one simple thing: your leftovers.

It wasn’t just any leftover meal; it was the crown jewel of your dining-out experiences. You had waited two grueling hours in line at that trendy little restaurant everyone raved about. Then, an additional hour just for your food to finally arrive at the table. When it did, the portions were laughably small—hardly enough to justify the ordeal. Still, the food was divine. A single bite felt like heaven on Earth, so you had made the difficult decision to save half of it for the next day.

The plan was simple: enjoy your prize after enduring yet another soul-sucking shift at work. Fantasizing about those leftovers was the only thing that got you through your day. But when you finally opened the fridge and reached for the container, your heart sank. All that greeted you was an empty plastic tray sitting mockingly on the table.

“JAKE!” you bellowed, your voice reverberating through the apartment.

He appeared in the doorway, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide with guilt. “What?” he asked, too innocently for your liking.

“You ate my leftovers, didn’t you?”

“What? Me? No—okay, yes, but in my defense, I was starving and—”

“You promised!” you interrupted, throwing your hands in the air. “I trusted you for once, and you betrayed me. Do you have any idea what I went through to get that food?”

From that moment on, the war began. The smallest disagreements escalated into full-blown arguments. For days, the apartment was a battleground of snide comments and petty actions.

Which brings us to tonight: The Couch Incident.

“Jake, move. That’s my side of the couch,” you said, glaring at him.

“Seriously? Can’t you just sit on the other side?” he replied, unfazed.

“Um, actually, I can’t sit on ‘your side,’ because it’s so worn down it feels like sitting in a ditch. Proof that you do nothing but sit on your ass all day while I do everything around here!”

“That’s a low blow, Y/N. Even for you,” Jake shot back, his tone dripping with indignation.

The two of you stared each other down like cowboys at high noon. Finally, Jake huffed, stood up, and relocated to the far side of the couch.

For a while, you stewed in your victory, basking in the reclaiming of your sacred spot. But as the minutes ticked by, guilt began to creep in. Maybe you had gone too far.

“Jake,” you mumbled, barely audible.

“What?” he grumbled, not even looking at you.

“I’m...sorry. This is stupid. I don’t even know why we’re fighting anymore.”

He sighed, finally turning to face you. “Yeah, me too. Over leftovers, really?”

You chuckled. “It was good food, though.”

“I know,” Jake said with a smirk. “That’s why I couldn’t resist.”

Later that evening, in an ironic twist of fate, you found yourselves at the same restaurant, eating the same dish you had fought over. This time, however, you made a pact to order two portions, ensuring no leftovers would be involved.

And just like that, the Great Leftover War came to an end, leaving behind only the memory of one truly ridiculous week.

[theonlyhonoredone]

My Man

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Reader, Modern AU

Warnings: none

Summary: a sneak peak into your relationship with Ryomen

Masterlist

You’d met Ryomen Sukuna at a house party your freshman year of college. A hundred thousand people warned you to stay away but you never listened to a single one. It didn’t matter what they said because he was enchanting. Sure he was cruel and crass, about as far from prince charming as one could get, but that didn’t matter to you. Always living on the basis of forming your own opinions and giving second chances you overlooked every red flag and let him slot himself into your life without any fight. Slowly but surely he let you in too, letting his tough exterior melt away in favor of a much softer man. 

He kept that part of him hidden away from everyone else, it made you feel special. You were the only one that got to see his real smile, hear his real laugh, to fall asleep next to him. One day he promised to clean himself up, just a bit, if you’d be his. He’d stop seeing his other girls, he’d commit to just you. That promise had sent your heart soaring. It didn’t matter when everyone pointed out he was doing the bare minimum, you knew for him it was much more than that. You didn’t need anyone else to understand your relationship anyway, that was between you and Ryomen.

“I love you,” his chapped lips would mutter into your burning skin late at night, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He chanted it like a prayer while you called out his name. Teary eyes burning as you squinted at the ceiling of his old Torino Cobra. So close to touching heaven you’d swear you could hear the angels singing. He’d take you there a hundred thousand times if you asked. He’d let you hang on that crux for the longest minute of your life before he’d bring you crashing back down to earth. It burned like some divine flame, you screamed his name as he drowned himself in you. Once you were back with him he’d ask if you were satisfied, his smile smug and his voice low. 

Under the cover of darkness you’d redress and crawl onto the roof of the car. He’d lay out a blanket for you to lay on and wrap you in his jacket when you began to shiver. A star map you’d had since your childhood was laid out in front of you both. Ryomen would lay his head in your lap while you pointed out different constellations. He’d stare up at the sky, focused much more on the sound of your voice than anything else. Truthfully he was jealous of the stars for holding your attention over him. If he had it his way he’d pluck them all out of the sky and hide them so you’d never look at anything but him with that pretty twinkle in your eye. 

“Stop talking about the stars and lay with me,” he’d demand once the jealousy became too overwhelming.

You’d giggle and fold up the map before laying beside him, your head on his chest and an arm thrown over his middle. He’d wrap you up tight in his arms and press his lips to the crown of your head. Eventually your hands would grow cold and you’d slip them under his shirt. He’d hiss as you warmed yourself on his skin, he always accused you of being cold blooded but never dared push you away. No, he always wanted you as close as possible, he had from the moment your eyes met. He swore he’d keep you with him until the end of time and he had no intention of breaking that promise ever.

[izvmimi]

cw: angel!gojo. hopefully not too sacrilegious. first thing that came to mind after @k-atsukibakugou's post earlier today!! minors dni.

Your hands thread through feathers, soft as the finest silk, shrouding you in a warmth that can only be described as divine. In this very moment, you wonder if the heavens above are watching, taking in every disgusting, depraved sight, every nip, suck, swallow, squelch, and cry drawn out of you by its messenger, night after night. It’s clear that salvation is no longer in the cards for you, but as angel Satoru, eyes as brilliant as sapphires as he devours you in every single way possible, continues to hold you, you consider that being ground permanently to the very earth - or rather the eternal flames under it - is worth it. 

Satoru lets you play with his wings longer, pressing kisses to your forehead, to your cheeks, and as you lay together, places his hand right on your warm heat. 

“You’re damned,” he whispers, a fingertip circling your clit. He says it so matter of fact-ly that you’re not sure if he’s pleased, amused even, or regretful. His divinity makes the rules different for him, and you do not know what will become of him, who partakes of the same acts. Yet you don’t care once he slips a finger into your center, and curls it, making your toes curl as well as you cry out his name.

“Satoru!”

“You should be calling for the Almighty,” he whispers, as he leans in, filling your nostrils with his scent, your senses, as he bites at your earlobe.

“Do they compare to you?” you huff out. Satoru’s gaze runs over you, and a smile curls on his lips. 

“God is watching. Best to not repeat that.” His chuckle is angelic, hushed with the sweet sound of his voice like bells and songbirds.

And yet his tongue swirls around your nipples, cupping your breasts in his hand with every action. He dips even lower, sipping the nectar dripping from between your legs. Mortal and so ephemeral, your time on earth fleeting, and yet you are so delicious to him, so easy to sink his teeth into and tear to pieces.

Your hands twist into his hair, and you wonder why an angel would curse you so with their beauty. He wonders the same, loathes the separation of the heaven and earth, spitting on the barrier in between when he consorts with you, pressing himself deep into your body, seating himself in your much more divine cunt, and holding you close, arms and wings, and floating sash. His halo is shaky; he wishes it would simply fade away. He’d much rather sink into you, he’d much rather his religion were you.

[liittleemiixeer]

I've been eating up @raleigh-edward 's theory about hsr and lane possibly being something other than human, and it made me think...

Imagine lane’s death at the Siberia base wasn’t just /death/. We see that in hs1, vicky dies, goes to heaven, and passes a test that determines your enrollment in the academy for angels and demons. Which makes me think that lane might have gone through the same predicament. So, for three years, she could have been training in heaven’s academy—until something went wrong. What if she committed an act so unlawful that she was cast down, stripped of her wings (angel, demon, harmony bearer... it doesn't matter), and erased from her own memory, reborn on earth again without any recollection?

This twist would explain why cain recognizes her despite her lack of memory. If they shared a past in the heaven or the academy itself, his cryptic hints are him trying to remind her of it—without risking revealing too much because that too would have consequences for him, her, or the both of them. This makes me think about a moment in the last update where, if you romance greg and you follow him to the gym in s2ep4 (correct me if im wrong), there's a moment where he gives lane a t-shirt to put on because her clothes are soaking wet from the rain. The shirt he gives her reads "fallen angels," which in that moment it seemed like a cute, flirty sign of greg crushing on lane, but is it? Moreover, lane had already asked pileon in s1 if fallen angels are a mere human invention when she was trying to understand cain's behavior, and the demon explains to her that they do exist and tells her how they're casted out of heaven/hell, so she rules out this option for cain.

But what about herself?

Unlike ordinary humans, even after being expelled from heaven/hell, she could still have traces of her past angelic or demonic essence explaining any unusual abilities and why she’s drawn to different paths tied to two opposite divine forces (whisper of the devil or voice of god). In consequence, lane’s story might not just be one of survival but of rediscovering who—or what—she really is and what she's capable of doing. A fallen angel with a fractured past, navigating allegiances between realms that have shaped her destiny in ways she’s only beginning to understand. For that reason, her relationship with cain might not just be about romance (if you're romancing him, that is), but more about uncovering the full truth of her own identity.

Just imagine the layers this could add to her story: a human life taken away by an accident (or was it?), her ascension to heaven, her mortal existence a punishment—or a second chance—by forces beyond her control, and now having her humanity function as a mask over a forgotten divinity that needs to be awakened.

[kelppsstuff]

Can you perhaps write an Adam x reader where the reader is extremely insecure about their looks and thinks they'll never be truly attractive and he comforts them after catching them in the middle of a breakdown ....... Thank you so much I love your work ♥️♥️

Divine

Summary: when your insecurities get the best of you Adam is there

F!Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: depression, depressive thoughts, making love, panic attack

Taglist: @fandomsbookclub @adamsfavoritesinner @leathesimp @mmichelleszn @sashaphantomhive @ladyninggs @sirenetheblogger @jawline-of-steel

You always were one to never feel confident in your own body. Even when you were alive. You were beyond surprised when the first man told you he wanted you, and even more surprised when you started dating.

You were a relatively high ranking angel, most people respected you. You were kind, compassionate, caring, and most of all, you were down to earth, or well heaven.

However even in your after life those thoughts followed you. Making you question everything about yourself.

The questions started small.

Were you too tall? Were you too short? Should you have long or short hair?

Then they began to form into something more.

Were you eat too much? Too less? Were your boobs big enough? Was your ass too big? What made you deserve Adam? Why are you even here?

You never told anyone about said thoughts. Heaven wasn’t a place of insecurity. Everyone was “hot” as saint peter like to put it, so no one really talked about their problems.

You tired hard to appear perfect. Always going the extra mile for something, for someone.

—

You walked around your home, glass of wine in your hand. You made a sudden stop however as you caught a glimpse of your reflection in one of the mirrors in your home.

You took another sip to try and stop the incoming thoughts, however it did no good.

Do you really think Adam wants you? It’s all a joke to him. You don’t deserve him, look at you.

Tears started to form in your eyes, tears of sadness filling eyes of rage.

You screamed out in frustration and threw the wine glass to the mirror. The glass shattered and red stained your white walls.

The thoughts stopped, finally a moment of peace, but it did not last. The came back stronger than before.

You grabbed one of your fire pokers and started to hit your glass cabinets. Throwing every thing you could find against the walls.

You didn’t find clarity though.

You slid down the walls while the tears slid down your face. “Just leave me alone!” You cried out to the empty room.

Now you’re throwing a fit? Get over yourself, god you’re pathetic.

You didn’t hear the door open, you couldn’t get out of your head. You didn’t hear footsteps crunching on the glass around you, it was blocked out by your crying.

You only focused back when Adam placed his arms around you and slightly shook the two of you.

���What’s the matter baby?” His voice was unusually soft, and it was delicate.

“I want the mirrors gone.” You begged to him. He pulled your head away from his chest and made you look up at him. “Then how would you see your beautiful face?”

You scoff out, “what a funny joke.” Your voice was bitter, and your throat was raw. The tears had finally stopped, but they still stained your face and your lashes were soaking.

“Funny of you to think I’m joking. Talk to me baby.” He noticed your insecurities to an extent. Adam wasn’t one to be too aware of mental struggles — even if he has some of his own — but he noticed things about you.

He would notice how you would always try and hide your stomach. How you would sometimes get lost in though while grabbing your thighs. He would notice how you never wanted him to go down on you even though you would blow him off. He would notice your long looks in the mirror and the distance face you had.

He would try and help. Telling how how hot he found you every time he saw you. He would always praise you. It wasn’t enough, he knew that but he wanted you to come to him about this first.

He didn’t want to upset you more with confrontation.

“I’m so ugly! I don’t know why you’re still with me! I’m an embarrassment for you. You’re too good for me.”

Adam brushed away your tears with his lips. Silently listening. This was your moment to get everything off your chest.

“I’m not smart, I’m not even that pretty.” You scoffed and looked away from Adam, “Lute would be a better partner than me.”

Adam pulled your face back to him. “You have no idea just how wrong you are. You are heaven itself. This place was hell until you.”

“You’re not an embarrassment, I’m so proud to have you on my arm. You’re so intelligent that you make god look stupid. Don’t even get me started on your beauty.”

“I love every part of you. I love every inch of skin you have. You’re so pretty baby and I love you so much it hurts that I can’t express how much I truly do. And I cannot wait until the day that I see you walking down that isle in white.”

You smiled at Adam, it would take time to fully believe him, but right now he made you happy. It had been a long time since the thoughts were gone and it was just the two of you.

“Thank you, Adam.”

Adam placed a kiss your lips and reluctantly backed away. “Don’t thank me baby. Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to go out have a spa day, go shopping, get all dolled up and when you get back I’ll have a surprise for you.”

You nodded your head and Adam kissed you all over your face leaving giggles to flea from your mouth. God you drive him crazy, in the best way.

—

You got your nails done, even gotten your hair styled, and you went to the mall to get new jewelry and a dress.

By the time you got home and walked brought the door all the glass and everything was cleaned up.

Another thing you noticed was the rose petals making a path to your room while music played out. The closer your got to the room the louder you heard the song.

You opened the door and there Adam stood. In a suit, maskless, while holding up a rose to you.

Adam could feel his heart stop. He looked you up and down and he knew that he would love you for the rest of his immortal life.

“You look…” and felt like he couldn’t breathe, you were simply, “divine.”

Red rushed to your cheeks as you walked closer to him, taking the rose. You wrapped your arms around his neck and looked around.

Candles were lit all over the room and you noticed he put a table in here that had your favorite food and wine. You looked to the left and noticed the bed was filled with rose petals just like the table.

The candles reflected against your skin and Adam knew that this was the moment, he couldn’t wait a second longer.

“Marry me.”

You snapped your head up to him, “what?”

Adam dropped your arms to his hands and he started to get onto hid knee. “I’ve lived in Heaven longer than I can remember, but it wasn’t Heaven until you. I have had two wives and yet it was you who taught me how to love.”

Adam pulled out a ring box from his jacket and opened revealing your dream ring. It was breathtaking.

“I was trapped in a marriage twice, and I don’t want you to think of this as a trap. When I ask you to marry me I’m asking for you to let me worship you. Let me wake up beside you every single day. Let me try and show just how deep my love for you goes, even though it’s impossible because I simply have too much of it to show. So I ask you. Will you marry me?”

A smile broke on your face and you dropped to you knees bringing him to a kiss. You put your hand to his cheek while he wrapped his arms around you.

You kissed all over his face saying yes a million times. Adam face was full of love and happiness as he placed the ring onto your finger.

You looked at him and placed your forehead against his, “never let me go.” You whispered.

“Never.” He promised.

He picked you up and carried you to the bed, kissing you along the way.

When he dropped you to the edge of the bed you immediately went to his belt but he pushed your hands away.

He dropped to his knees and pushed your back to the bed. “This night is all about you, honey.”

You were nervous yet excited.

He undid your heels, slightly rubbing your sore feet before his hands trailed up your thighs. “Lift your hips baby.”

You flushed pink, Adam said Vulgar things all the time but that would play a repeat in your head for days, hell eternity to come.

You did as he said and he pushed your dress up while pulling down your panties, stuffing them in his pockets.

He brought his lips to your own, and gave your heat a little kiss. Your little moan let him knew just how eager you truly are, along with the slickness along your folds.

He grabbed your legs and placed them on his shoulder, slightly angling your hips upwards.

He gave you a long lick, loving the taste of you. He wanted more, no needed more, he needed to taste you more.

He gave you more licks and suck before rubbing your clit while putting his tongue to use but pushing it past your folds and into your walls.

You could feel pressure in your stomach begging to be release, you were quite familiar of this feeling.

“Adam, I’m oh god, I’m going to cum.”

Adam paced quicken, desperate to have you gush on his tongue and gush you did. You poured onto him, crying out in pleasure. Adam didn’t let a single drop past him.

When you finally were finished riding out your high Adam climbed over you. A sight it was.

He ran a hand down his hair, his tie loose, your fluids over his face and a hungry look in his eyes. You made sure to engrave that memory in your head. You pushed off his suit jacket while he worked on his belt and shoes.

Adam ripped open your dress causing you to whine, “that was expensive!”

Adam started to kiss up your neck and to your ear, his low raspy voice right over it. “I’ll buy you ten more.” His breath blew over the curvature of your ear making your yearn for him.

You ripped open his shirt, buttons flying everywhere as you gave him begging eyes with a sweet voice to accompany it. “Please my love.”

“How can I refuse someone as pretty as you.”

You believe him, you felt pretty, you felt loved, you felt worshipped, you felt enough.

Adam pushed down his pants and lined himself up to your entrance. He slowly started to push into your slick walls, leaning down over you breathing heavy, matching yours.

When he finally bottomed out he had to take a moment to stop. You were so tight and you were squeezing him so nice.

In the very low of your stomach you could feel a tiny bulge.

He took you hand hand placed it over your lower stomach. “You feel me baby? You feel what you do to me? Only you could make me like this.”

“I love you Adam.” He placed a soft kiss on your soft lips, “not as much as I love you.”

Before you could deny it he thrusted up into you. Suddenly your ‘impossible’ turned into “don’t stop.”

“I won’t baby.”

He kept his word. He kept it slow and you didn’t ask for him to go faster. His thrust was hard and it his the exactly spot that he knew would make you tick.

He started to rub your clit, whispering praises in your ear and then suddenly you could feel yourself pulsing around him.

With you tightening Adam’s own release pushed deep into. Painting your walls white.

When you both came down from your highs he pulled out and made you two a bath.

While the two of you soak and nipped your ear and joke, “looks like I skipped dinner and went straight to dessert.” You giggled and splashed him.

The two of you went silent for a moment, just admiring the other. “I love you.” You both said.

Adam was truly happy.

You were truly happy.

Any problems that would happen you two would face them, together.

AHHHHH

Okay so let’s talk!

I’m so happy I wrote this! You have no idea, while writing this it felt like a piece of me healing.

If anyone is struggling I want you to know you’re not alone! There are others out there and I don’t mean that as a way to down play you, I mean that in a way they people understand and people will listen.

Don’t struggle alone there is always a door open and each and every person alive is beautiful and truly amazing and there is always someone something that loves you!

[seneon]

♰ LAST ARCH!VED ￤ STARS COLLIDE, WOLF¡DABI¡!

ABOUT. there is no resistance for the divine deity as you are simply a living sacrifice. highly suggestive content¡! ( short breast play ) omegaverse themes such as scent pheromones thingy, mating, knotting. but it's not too much bc i hate it LOL. and sacrificial ritual themes. wc of 1800+

NOTES. ok alpha dabi anon come get your food. YOO IM FINALLY DONE WITH THE HALLOWEEN MASTERLIST WOOHOO HAPPY HALLOWEEN SENATION

in desperate awe, you cling onto the fragments of the divine painting portrayed and gifted to your gaze. just like art, it almost felt like the heavenly angels were still working on the sculpture. albeit completed, it needed to be presented in perfection.

your eyes couldn't tear themselves off from the sight right in front of you. the image of a man, or a divine being, you do not know. he lays on his sides, elbows propped out to support his head as his free hands play with the white, almost gold silk linen.

but that is not all.

this being, so divine and beautiful as if he is the ultimate blessing from above. he bore the ears of an animal, his fingers and nails are long. it's perfectly shaped, along with his beautiful arms down to his chiseled and toned chest.

when touya's eyes paid mind to your existence, you froze under his cold turquoise gaze that pierced through your soul.

his eyes are beautiful.

you think to yourself, while your own eyes travelled around to drink in the colour of his hair as white as snow. there's a hint of a rather invisible gray veil covering him, and it made touya look even more divine.

“you're the one?” he asks, sitting up properly on the large bed covered in the finest and expensive silk blankets, covers and soft pillows.

yes indeed. you are the one. you were brought here against your will. your freedom stripped from your soul as the villagers have dragged you, a traveler from far away. you were to visit the divine being on your own accord, not have your senses blocked off from the face of the earth and only regain them back to be graced by such a work of art that laid upon you.

though his words did not strike you in curiousity, fear itched at your skin. what were you the one for again? you're here, dressed in a rather beautiful white dress, your hair is perfectly done, and beauty reeks all over you.

it feels like a curse and a blessing at the same time.

there's an odd smell that starts to circle around your nose, a sense that was once blocked off for such a long time you couldn't smell the difference between flowers and poison. this fragrance crawled into your brains and it journeyed down to your body.

you start to feel uneasy.

it's an uncomfortable feeling that wraps you around like the faint, merely visible gray veil he wore around him. it's now onto you, and the scent is even more dangerous to your nose. dangerously enticing.

“what.. am i here for?” you asked in a whisper as touya slightly tilted his head lazily at your question.

“what are you here for? do you really not know?” he repeated, his voice striking a chord in you, and it became poison to your ears. you can only shake your head slightly to keep the poison from spilling.

touya lets out a chuckle, amused by your lack of knowledge of your presence in his. there is so much imbalance in the power that you feel like a mere ant who dares to stumble across a human’s skin. a tiny smirk was carved at the corner of his lips as he gazed at you.

“you will be my woman in a few moments. i shall claim you as mine and you will bear my seeds.”

you are a sacrifice. a mere aspect in this living world that is to be sacrificed to touya, the divine being. what divinity does he even belong to? your eyes darted to where you first entered, then they came back to rest on touya's.

“are you a god?”

“perhaps. i am a blessing from the heavens. i rule over the wolves and all which are close to wolves.”

pieces of reality began to stick together like broken mirror shards who came together. the world is starting to make a little sense to you.

“so… i am a sacrifice to you and to be made yours in whatever way. at what cost?”

touya's fingers gently traced the silken sheets. “there is no cost. it's how the world works, pretty one. i am given a sacrifice that the heavens chooses for me, and i am to link my soul with hers and have her bear my seeds. then a new child of divinity will be made. what is the cost?”

before you could even utter out a string of protests, he holds out his arm and invites you to him.

“come here.”

and just like that, your feet listened to his orders and they moved against your will, lured by the allure of touya. everything has been happening against your will lately. you've forgotten what 'will' even is. you've forgotten freedom even existed in your world.

his fingers carefully took your hand, thumb immediately caressing your knuckles as he looked up at you and pulled you closer to him so you stood in between his legs while you gaze down at him.

“what is your name?”

you told him, and it runs down his tongue twice. your name sounded nice coming from him, an existence whose name you don't even know.

there the scent hits you the hardest. an immediate realisation washed over you when you realised you've been inhaling his scent all this time. it mends the strings of your heart to fall under his spell. your eyes gazed all over his face.

touya's his name, he tells you that. he's some worshipped divine being apparently. and you can't help but admire how beautiful he looks up close. you were in absolute awe at how flawless and perfect he looks.

when the caressing of your knuckles ceased, touya’s right hands found their way to rest on your hips while his other hand reached out to graze your cheeks. he then tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ears.

“you're the perfect sacrifice. so beautiful too. the angels have chosen the perfect woman for me.”

a faint blush painted your cheeks a field of bloody roses as touya rose up. his thumb that was previously grazing with the silk sheets now went back and forth on the skin of your cheek.

such a loving gesture that it has your insides fluttering. caterpillars have blossomed into butterflies to rage in your stomach, it seems.

touya leans in close to your ears to whisper a secret as if you do not know of it yet. “lay with me, y/n. and i will link our souls together.”

your blush deepens, and he moves to slowly push you on the bed. once your back hits the bed, he's hovering above you.

this divine creature, a perfect being who looks after the wolves. touya's a wolf himself, yet he's in this divine form so close to the touch of being human. it actually makes him wonder what is it like to be human. well no matter, he could ask you all about it.

you can smell his scent enveloping you when he closes the distance. his body is above yours, pressed firmly while his lips found their way to press against yours in the slowest and most intimate form.

it was like touya didn't want to ruin any aspect of this ritual. he wants it to be sacred like how his ancestors have made it sacred and memorable. more importantly, he wants to simply please his beautiful sacrifice and make her forget that she was even a sacrifice in the first place.

touya's tongue is engaged in a battle with your own tongue and the rest of it is simply the little sounds both of you occasionally let out. his hands feel all around your sides and waist, so gentle with it that it feels like the touch of the sun.

soon he pulled away, immediately pressing a chaste kiss on the side of your lips before his lips dragged down to your jawline and planted kisses along it. your neck becomes his canvas where he sinks his teeth deep into your skin and places his mark all over.

“it leaves a permanent scar, a reminder to everyone else that you're mine,” touya tells you before licking the mark he created. he pulls away to look at your messy breathing, cheeks flushed and chest rising up and down.

your eyes slowly looked at him above you, carrying the haziness that wraps itself around your vision. your breathing is ragged, hitched in every way as your fingers twitch at this odd sensation you're feeling.

a smirk crawls up to grace his handsome features. touya leans down close to your chest and his teeth takes the edge of your lace ribbons that ties the top of your dress together. slowly and carefully, he pulls away the lace in between his teeth to unveil the strings that kept you clothed.

he does that all his eyes are locked on yours. that lazy gaze who held something so dark behind them. your lace is untied, and his cold fingers slid the top of your pure white dress off your shoulders and soon they are stripped from your body. the cold air hit your skin and you shivered at the suspense.

touya kissed your chest and travelled his lips down to your breast where he began to trail intoxicating kisses. you can smell how potent his scent is, and it's killing you softly on the inside. all while his lips and tongue began to work their tantalising magic on your bare skin.

your back is arched in the pleasure he gifted to you, fingers immediately finding their way to weave themselves into his soft angelic hair. touya hums in approval at your fingers which hold onto his hair tightly while his tongue runs itself over your breasts and to embrace your hardened buds with his lips.

the uneasy feeling you felt has been defeated in a battle against pleasure. now all you can think of is how good divine wolf touya’s tongue and lips feel on your body, his smell that fills your nose, and the pooling feeling at your sex that gathered to stain you damp beneath.

it was silent the entire time. well not quite, for only the sounds of your soft and sweet praises echoed in touya's ears. they sounded like music in heaven to him. you really are the chosen one, a beloved child of the stars.

the stars above collide once touya finally intertwines your body and soul together. the wolves no longer has to worry about their existence coming to a halt when their deity has knotted a human sacrifice and she is to bear his sons and daughters.

the ritual is completed.

©SENEON 2024 ♰ D!ED, D3AD, G0NE. DO NOT REPOST OR ALTER. OR ELSE THE BATS WILL COME FOR YOU.

[arielthedaydreamer]

Ineffable Infinity - Good Omens oneshot

Aziraphale was done.

Done with the Metatron, done with archangels. The Apocalypse, Armageddon, the Second Coming, the struggle, the abyss between him and Crowley, the hellfire burning right in front of him. Inexistence. The end. He didn't want to think about it. He wanted it all to stop.

And in that moment, right about to be burned for his final act of treason, he realized that he did not need to want. He could stop. If not the hellfire, or time itself, then his time. He could stop. With a simple miracle. Who would notice? And he did.

He closed his eyes. The fire disappeared. Everything stopped.

He was in a dark and timeless space, behind his eyes, within. But he was not alone. He wished there to be light.

-Welcome, Aziraphale. -Said the familiar voice, in perfect synchrony with the light's arrival. It was good. -My clever, clever angel. You found me.

-...God?

-The one and all.

-I'm...gonna die now, won't I? The hellfire... or... am I dead already?!

-You are, -Said the Lord, - and you are not. Both at the same time. You are out of time, and out of space. Only here, and now, can one meet me.

-Was... this in your plan?

-Well, yes, of course.

-All of it? The Second Coming? And me thwarting it? Armageddon too?

-All of it.

-Why?

For a moment, there was silence.

-If only I could make you understand...but if you could, you would become...

Aziraphale felt, for a moment, that he might have had this conversation before. It lasted a single instant, and God's voice returned.

-No matter. You can't really understand.

-Inneffable. -Sighed Aziraphale. -I know.

-Inneffable...-God hesitated. -Perhaps... But I will give you another word.

-Another... word?

-Endless.

-Endless?

-Yes. Completely endless, Aziraphale. The possibilities are, have always been, endless. I can see it right now. As I talk to you.

-And... what do you see?

The angel was becoming less and less afraid of asking questions to the voice he once feared. Here, now, he understood why mortals called The Lord "father", or "mother". It was familiar. Giant, but welcoming. He knew it. Not entirely, but a tiny, infinitely tiny bit of it, he knew. His mind conjured the image of a drop of water, in conversation with the ocean. It was enough for him not to fear.

-I see -Responded God,- your first breath. I see you gain consciousness, in darkness, no Earth, no light, before everything. Do you remember it?

-Yes. - Said Aziraphale. The feeling was welcoming, all over him. He did remember his birth.

-And I see the end of the world. -Said God. - I see it end with Adam, as the nuclear bombs explode and the war between heaven and hell begins.

Aziraphale, puzzled, looked up. As if God was up. Was God up? Could She be down? Or around him? Or everywhere? He never questioned it before.

-Fantastic. You begin to grasp it! -Said God. -Though you never will finish to grasp it, of course. But you are right. I am everywhere. And everywhen.

Indeed, you cannot see that ending to the world. You and Crowley, and Adam himself, and many others chose to miss it when you averted the apocalipse. But there is another universe, many other universes in which you did not avert it, and I can see them right now.

Do you understand? Just as I see you and Crowley arise from divine matter, in what you call the past; I see you and Crowley dissappear forever, him in holy water and you in hellfire, in a moment you call "never". Because you both avoided it as well. But I can see the world where you didn't.

And I see your eyes shine in a fiery red as you join Crowley, both falling from heaven as one. And I can see Crowley's white wings soar in heaven, a heaven that he rules, with you. Oh, I see you and Crowley living a human life. Falling in human love. Dying a human death.

You don't understand it, do you? I see pain. I see joy. I see grief. I see love. I see death and birth. I see the future, the past, the present, and the multiple versions of "never". And it's all in front of me, really, at this very moment. I suppose I could look at it through every existing eye, feel it with every existing soul, all at once, in this moment.

But even for me, Aziraphale, that would be too much.

That is why I choose to focus. Here. With you. Right now. Both of us, blissfully unaware of infinity.

None of this multiverse, this endless infinity, is a plan, Aziraphale. It is my existence. I simply am. The creator, the creature. The observer, the observed. Above, below. As I opened my eyes so did the cosmos. As I once gained consciousness, so it all began.

Do you understand now? Even a fraction of it?

-I'm... trying. -He smiled.

-Yes. And you are doing perfectly well.

Then you may begin to comprehend, Aziraphale. I could promise you, that you will leave this conversation and fall not towards death, but into Crowley's arms. I can see it happen, in endless moments, endless universes. But the worlds in which you die will always exist.

Understand it. For every world in which you live, there is one in which you die. For every world ended, there is a world being born. For every moment of love, there is another moment of grief. For every smile in your face, there is another face covered in tears. And it's all in front of me. I see it all, I am it all, always. So it's my turn to ask you: why? Why would I interfere with any of it?

-But why must there be tears at all?

-How could you love someone you've never longed for?

Aziraphale was quiet.

-The choice is yours, Aziraphale. You are perfect as you are, as you have always been, to make that choice. What do you long for? Which world will you travel to? Which ending will you see?

If you want Crowley, my dear, run to him. Do not ask me for permission. Your possibilities are endless, and I am merely all of them. I have no single plan. But you do. You have chosen your path, now follow it.

Aziraphale's angelic head spun in attempt to understand. But he could not. Yet, he knew, felt what he needed to do.

For once in his life, he would follow his plan.

And as with that thought, he felt his entire body burn.

He knew he had crossed the hellfire. He was now lying on the cold ground, beyond the pyre. He felt a pair of arms embracing him. He felt tears, heard sobs. When he opened his eyes, he saw Crowley.

[softfem-dom]

mutant file ,, fem oc

name : dolores betelohim nicknames : lola , lolita , dolly , lola dear .

alias : heaven says short form : heaven , heaveny

day of birth : 15th april 19??

height : 5,4

category : mutant (level 4-5)

abbilities : angel morphing , siren song / voice ridden mind-manipulation , dermakinesis , telepathy (weak).

residence : xavier's school for gifted youngsters.

occupation : (apathetic)student

affliction : xmen (occasionally) (since 1998)

state : 𝔞l҉𝔦v҉𝔢?

story

🖇️ early life Dolores was born in a catholic household, under the watch of a caring mother and the hand of a strict yet loving father. As soon as she was old enough to understand the world her she was taught about the love of God, the merciful being above, taken to church every Sunday and with a rosary hanging from her neck.

Pale as a white bunny, with equal curiosity for everything around her, and with eyes as blue as the sky. Her dark, almost coal-y, brunette hair only adding to the purity that seemed to coat her very being.

However, that purity didn't get a chance to last too long. When the priest from the church spotted her, looking like the ethereal esence of a divine being, he revealed himself to not be as kind as everyone had been fooled to believe.

He was part of an organization, an illegal project. To create angels on earth and, by false visual, force the christianism over the rest of religions by existent 'proof' of divine beings.

So, that fateful Sunday after church, she didn't get a chance to go back home. Snatched away with a cloth over her mouth, only to awake in some kind of rusty and old room surrounded by sharp medical props and colorful and strange vials on creaky shelfs.

She was experimented on. Mutated. To grow wings and have the melodic voice of the angels above. Completely stripped off of her own humanity to fake her into a 'divine' being to be worshipped. Surrounded by equal hate and disgust as admiration and amazement. just a prop to a cult.

🖇 xavier's school for gifted youngsters

After years of being trapped within the same walls, being forced to perform like some circus act. After years of being aressed as a divinity yet treated like a lab rat. One fateful days the alarms inside the facility went off, commotion being heard out in the halls, the armored door of her 'room' hiding her away from everything.

Then was when she met Charles Xavier and his team. She would've been scared of the blue man suddenly appearing inside of her room, with a 'poof' and a cloud of smoke, if it weren't for the cross pendant hanging from his neck. Christians were good samaritans, she tried to convince herself.

It turned out, at least that Christian was indeed a good samaritan. Offering her his hand and taking her away from it all, not caring about the wings growing from her back nor the blue in her eyes. She was for once being treated like a human being instead of like a divine being in need to be worshipped yet hidden away.

After that, she met the rest of the team; ororo, jean, charles, scott and kurt —the one who saved her. And found her home in Xavier's school for Gifted Youngsters. She was still seen as an angel within those walls. Yet not for the white wings, nor for the pure blue in her eyes, nor for the pale and perfect of her skin, nor from the melody in her voice, but for her smile and kind heart.

After she started to live out in the open, taking classes like any normal teen and playing outside, it soon became obvious the way her body rejected the necessary nutrients for growing —due to the poor conditions of the lab— and she ended up developing anemia, low iron levels.

Sooner than later, though, new people joined the team. Remy LeBeau aka Gambit, Anna Marie aka Rogue, Piotr "Peter" Nikolaievitch Rasputin aka Colossus, Robert Louis "Bobby" Drake aka Ice-Man, Katherine Anne "Kitty" Pryde aka Shadowcat and Logan Howlett aka Wolverine with whom she'll end up growing closer than she expected. A total contrast to see the dictionary definition of purity and religiousness attached to the hip of the sarcastic and dry-humoured man that was atheist to the damn bone.

🖇character analysis :

dear lola is an optimistic and soft girl, she is deemed extremely chill for her age —y'know puberty and all—. She seems to lack teenager hormones with how calm she is.

despite her past in a laboratory, and all the cultist stuff, she remains catholic and firm to the belief that there is a God up there that will always be there for her in the good and the bad. That's probably one of the reasons she is so close to Kurt, since they share religion and equal passion about it.

She will talk about her religion to anyone who asks or shows interest, even if she knows most people —especially teens— in the school don't give two shits if there is someone above due to their ansty teen rebellion phase she'll remain loyal in her beliefs.

She spends most of her time in the garden, the part with the tallest trees. She likes to climb the trees and spend her hours drawing or reading on the branches.

It's suspected that her calmness and relaxed nature is due to her very low iron, that has her with much less social battery and energy than people her age. She's not allergic to social interaction, but she prefers time alone or time shared in silence.

She's a very loving individual, surprisingly palyful and full of mischief. She loves helping the other teens plot schemes and pranks on the teachers —especially Scott and Logan—.

Everyone believes that the 'angel' part of her are just the white wings in her back, the ones she's always dragging on the floor because they weight quite a lot despite their feather-y appearance. But, in reality, the whole implanted 'divine' part of her is such a monstruous form that she'll never let anyone see it. The fact that she can turn in such a monstruous creature keeps her awake at night sometimes, seeing the reflection of something antromorphic and disgusting in the mirror whenever she looks at it.

Her first encounter with Logan aka the Wolverine wasn't a very pleasant one. He had been living in the school for only two or three days when he stumbled upon the sight of a supposed big bird in the branch of a tree, he wasn't thinking straight when he grabbed a small rock and threw it at the 'animal' —believing it to be something dangerous to the kids in the school—. Only to be met by the sight of a female face turning to him with wide eyes and a heavily offended expression after the loud 'thwack!' of the rock hit her in the back of her head.

She crawled up to the branches of the tree until the green leafs hid her from him and didn't come back down until it was Storm the one calling her from under the tree.

Needless to say Logan was ashamed as fuck after realizing he had threw a rock at a random kid.

After a bit of time and a cookie offering —suggested by Jean— the two of them started to get closer. With Logan freaking the fuck out the first time Lola got up too fast and fell right to the floor, damn low iron.

Despite the two of them being the total ephytomy of opposites, Logan still put up with the religious kid even while being atheist himself. He couldn't give two shits about the 'supposedly' God up in the sky —how would that even work anyways? some huge dude in the sky?—, but he never dismissed her as he never dismissed Kurt even if the two of them paired up were a total pain in the ass.

[itoshiexx]

pretty

synopsis: when your insecurities get the best of you, rin comes to the rescue to make sure you know you're so much more than pretty.

pairing: itoshi rin x gn!reader | words: 845 | warnings: established relationship, slight hurt/comfort, insecurities, i tried to make this as gender neutral as possible but reader is implied to wear makeup, suggestive at the end!!, aged up characters

notes: it’s me, hi, i'm the problem it's me! i'm back with this idea i had while i was trying some clothes. kinda hate how this turned out but whatever, i'm sad

masterlist part 2 (nsfw)

you never really took long to get ready. it was one of the reasons rin loved you so much: you were practical with your outfit and your makeup, and very good at managing your time. for someone as the young itoshi, who screamed practicality, you were a perfect match.

it is why rin is standing up from his place on the living room’s couch, sprinting towards your shared bedroom — to understand why you are taking so long. if you don’t leave soon, you might be late for your dinner reservations. 

entering the bedroom door, rin spots you easily. you are standing in front of the mirror, with nothing but your underwear on, staring at your reflection with a lost gaze.

he decides he doesn’t like this gaze on you.

“what’s wrong?” his question seems to break you from whatever stupor you were in; his bluntness catching you off guard in an unusual manner, since you were used to your boyfriend’s direct nature.

rin is met with silence. your lips part and close several times, but nothing comes out. his brows furrow, and he takes a few steps inside to take a closer look to you. 

your hands are wandering through your skin — from the plush of your thighs, your hips, the curve of your waist, stopping at your tummy. then, they move further to your ribs, chest, shoulders, up until your neck. 

it’s like you’re analyzing something, although rin can’t quite pinpoint what it is. he could almost say you’re admiring yourself, if not for the slight furrow of your brows and the crisp on your lips.

“do you… do you think i’m pretty, rin?” 

your voice is so small it scares him for a moment. he wasn’t expecting such a question. nevertheless, rin takes a few more steps until he’s right behind you in the mirror, and his arms find home in your waist in a tight embrace. you shiver feeling the material of his white button up shirt against your bare skin. 

you feel his scrutinizing gaze from over your shoulder, and you have to fight the urge to hide. it’s silly, and you know; because you never have to hide from rin. he has seen you, all of you, way too many times. 

but there’s just something about this moment that makes you feel so little and so insecure, because the stupid voices in your head keep telling you bad things about yourself. and you also know that they are just intrusive thoughts, and that you shouldn’t listen to them, but right now it’s really fucking hard. 

“pretty?” he repeats, a little breathless. his eyes wander through every bit of you, like he’s trying to commit to memory. “you’re asking me if i think you’re pretty?”

you shake your head. “forget it, i shouldn’t have asked—”

“love,” rin interrupts your rambling, “you are so much more than pretty.”

you blink a few times, unsure you heard him right. rin’s hold on you tightens. 

“you are beautiful.” he rests his chin on your shoulder, still staring intently at your figure. “you are… god. you’re breathtaking.”

he leaves a featherlight kiss on your neck, and you can’t help but feel incredibly shy under his strong gaze. rin stares at you as if you are the most beautiful creature that has ever landed on earth, like some sort of divine being that came from the heavens to bless every human lucky enough to deserve to cross your path. probably because, to him, that was exactly what you were.

and rin was the luckiest of them all, for he was the one who you chose to call “lover”, the one that could spend every minute of his existence by your side, bathing in your glow, basking in the warmth of every one of your smiles. 

he was the one that could feel the texture of your skin beneath his fingertips and worship your body like some kind of temple, giving all the love it deserved. and if you were asking him that question, well… then maybe he wasn’t worshiping you enough. 

“baby,” his right hand leaves your waist and trails all the way to your shoulder, where he leaves another kiss. “look at me.”

you shake your head no. you miss the way his expression turns pained. “please?”

you sigh. you’re such a goner for itoshi rin. and he knows that anything he asks in that tone will be granted. so, albeit hesitantly, you do what he says, and meet his gaze in the mirror. 

the small smile he gives you is enough to send your heart into a frenzy, giving you those stupid butterflies in your stomach that always appear when it comes to him.

“you are everything good in this world,” he says, like it’s the truth, like it’s all he’s ever known.

then, gently turning you around to face him, he grips your waist tightly and brings his face impossibly close to yours, until your noses are touching and his lips are hovering above yours.

“and i will show you just how much.”

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

if you like my writing and would like to support me, you can 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ! any amount is welcomed and very appreciated! ♥

[itsabouttimex2]

All The Things I’ve Left Behind

(Yandere Celestialchaos Drabble, where Sun Wukong snaps halfway through one of Xiangliu’s “punishments” and doesn’t exactly get better.)

“It’s not possible to get “bored” on Flower Fruit Mountain, bud! Or, uh- are you one of those big nerds who still say “Mount Huaguo?”

”Monkey King!” Calls MK, beaming ear to ear, ignoring his mentor’s jab at the bitter words he had muttered. “You’re back already! Man, I thought it’d be forever!

Already. Forever.

His cherished student, a gem he works to polish and sharpen, like a nephew or maybe a grandson, expected him to be later. Thought he might never come back.

“Not the first person you’ve failed”, muses Xiangliu. “And he wasn’t the last, either.”

The image before the two demons fractures in a spray of irradiant light, midair sparks gleaming for the briefest of seconds before they sizzle into a brand new picture, just as painfully familiar as the first.

“Monkey!” Angrily cries Sanzang, slender hands gripped tightly around his golden khakkhara, which he lifts as the image of Sun Wukong preemptively recoils- and it comes down with a round of metallic clattering, sounding a divine chime that tightens his fillet. “Is there no end to the blood you’ll spill?! No end to your mischief and trouble?! Why can’t you just be good?!”

“It hadn’t been hard for any of your fellow disciples- why couldn’t you just be good, Wukong?”

The serpentine demon turns to face his captive with a grin, but sours at the sight of his lack of response.

Sun Wukong stares blankly at the dissipating illusion, his mind far from the chaotic swirl of memories and emotions that once were an onslaught after a “session” like this.

Once, he would’ve drank in the replay of MK’s excited voice, an infectious enthusiasm that reminded him of his younger self—bold, relentless, unyielding. A part of him wanted to bask in the warmth of his student’s admiration, to return the role of the infallible mentor.

Once, the echoes of Sanzang’s voice would have lingered in his ears for hours, sharp as the remembered sting of the fillet tightening around his head. The reprimands, the disappointment, the countless moments of failure—all of it would have resurfaced like old wounds torn open anew.

But now?

Now Sun Wukong just stared ahead, gold eyes slowly graying.

Tsk.

What was the point of a “punishment” if the recipient wasn’t even paying attention?

”Really, now… I’m disappointed.”

The spell fades entirely, smeared by an all too casual swipe of Xiangliu’s scaled hand.

“This isn’t like you,” Xiangliu sighs, his voice low and silky, a hint of threat woven into the false tenderness of the snake’s voice as he took taking Wukong’s clasped hands and pulling them away from each other with too much ease. “What’s wrong, darling?”

The simian feels Xiangliu’s gaze on him, felt the demon’s cold, scaled fingers pry his hands apart. There was no resistance left in him, no fire, no defiance. The Monkey King who had once defied Heaven itself now felt like a shadow, a hollow shell wearing a mask of bravado.

‘I’m not myself anymore’, he wants to answer. ‘Because of you.’

“…just thinking,” he barely returns.

“Of us, I hope.” ‘For your own sake’ goes unspoken, because Xiangliu never says it aloud.

”…do you want to know why I fell for you?”

Wukong barely reacts, his gaze fixed on some far-off point that only he can see. The words wash over him like water over stone, leaving no mark, no impression. He feels nothing—no anger, no pain, not even the sting of humiliation. It’s all gone, drained away, leaving behind a void where once there had been light and life.

”I loved your chaos.”

The serpentine demon tightens his grip, pulling Wukong closer, their faces now inches apart. Xiangliu’s breath is cold, like the wind that howls through the caves of the underworld, and it brushes against Wukong’s fur, sending a shiver down his spine.

“I loved how you defied Heaven and Earth, how you tore through the cosmos with that reckless abandon of yours. I loved the way you danced on the edge of destruction, unafraid, unyielding. But now?” Xiangliu’s voice drops to a whisper, dripping with disdain. “Now you’re just… becoming a husk. Where’s that fire that made you the Great Sage Equal to Heaven? Where’s the defiant king who laughed in the face of gods?”

Wukong’s silence is an answer in itself—a heavy, empty acknowledgment of what he has become. The once-mighty Monkey King, who had once challenged the Jade Emperor and the forces of Heaven, now reduced to this—nearly broken, dangerously close to being void of the very essence that had made him legendary.

Xiangliu sneers, his serpentine eyes narrowing to slits. “This… isn’t what I wanted,” he hisses, his tone laced with both anger and disappointment. “I can’t worship a shell. I need you to fight, Wukong. I need you to resist. Otherwise… what’s the point?”

Wukong blinks slowly, his gaze unfocused, barely registering the demon’s words. The void inside him yawns wider, threatening to consume what little remains of his spirit.

With a sigh, Xiangliu releases Wukong, lightly pushing him backwards. The Monkey King stumbles, but he doesn’t fall—just sways on his feet, like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

The cavernous space they occupy seems to grow colder, the shadows lengthening, as Xiangliu moves away, his presence still oppressive, still a looming threat. Wukong doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. He just stands there, eyes dull, lost in the depths of his own despair.

As the echoes of Xiangliu’s footsteps fade into the distance, the silence returns—deeper, more suffocating than before. And in that silence, Wukong is left alone with his thoughts, with the memories that haunt him, with the crushing weight of his own failures.

Once, he had been the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, the Monkey King, the warrior who had conquered Heaven. But now? Now, he is nothing. A ghost. A shadow.

The cold presence clinging to the king fades, leaving him alone in the suffocating silence, thick and stifling, a void that seems to swallow the remnants of Sun Wukong's once boundless energy. His mind drifts, slipping between memories of his past—flashes of battles fought, allies won and lost, a time when his laughter echoed across Flower Fruit Mountain, unburdened by the weight of his own existence. That all felt like a distant dream now, and with each passing second, it faded further into the recesses of his memory.

Wukong remains where he is, motionless, his thoughts empty. Not for the first time in his long, tumultuous life, he doesn’t know what comes next. There is no plan, no path, no purpose. Just an endless, aching emptiness that stretches out before him, with no end in sight.

And, by Xiangliu’s design, Wukong is starting to think that’s what he deserves.

Not that the primordial demon’s intentions stop at merely “reshaping” the king and forcing him to forget a punishment-ridden past.

No, Xiangliu wants to break him into a brand new being of unrestrained chaos.

”I’m back, darling,” he coos, each of the eight snakes on his head shifting and flicking their tongues. In his hands is a hot mug, seething with steam.

As always, after one these “punishments”, the demon is on standby with a treat or comfort to soothe at least some small amount of Wukong’s pain. To endear himself. To “apologize” and bridge the forming gap.

He approaches slowly, the scent of fruit-peel tea drifting in the air.

“You know,” Xiangliu says, his voice even and casual, “it doesn’t have to be like this, Wukong. You don’t have to keep suffering, reliving the past over and over again. You could just let go. Accept what you’ve become. Accept me.”

He holds out the mug, offering it as though it were a lifeline. Wukong’s eyes shift slowly to the steaming drink, the warmth of it a stark contrast to the cold that has settled in his bones. But he doesn’t reach for it. He just stares at it, as if the simple act of choosing to take the drink or not is a decision too monumental to make.

None of his other decisions seemed to have ended well, after all.

Xiangliu’s patience wears thin again, but this time, he hides it behind a mask of concern. “Come now, my saint,” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his breath brushing against Wukong’s ear, sending an involuntary. “Let me tend to your pains.”

Wukong says nothing, his gaze still locked on the mug, his mind distant. He feels Xiangliu’s presence enveloping him, the demon’s aura thick and suffocating, as though the very air around him has become tainted by his malice. But Wukong doesn’t resist. He doesn’t push back. He just… exists, barely clinging to the remnants of what he once was.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Wukong lifts his hand, his movements slow and lethargic, as if every motion is a battle against the weight of his own apathy. His fingers curl around the mug, the warmth seeping into his hand, but it offers no comfort. He lifts it to his lips, takes a small sip, and feels the liquid slide down his throat, hot and sweet.

Xiangliu watches him closely, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “That’s it,” he whispers, his voice soft and coaxing. “Just let it all go. Let me take care of you. You don’t need to be the Monkey King anymore. You don’t need to fight. Just… rest.”

The words wrap around Wukong like chains, binding him tighter to the abyss that yawns within him. He feels the warmth of the tea spread through his body, but it doesn’t reach his heart. It doesn’t fill the void. It doesn’t bring back the fire that once burned so brightly within him.

But maybe that’s okay. Maybe it’s better this way. Better to let go of the pain, the anger, the endless struggle. Better to just… fade away.

Maybe that’s what he should’ve done from the start.