#heaven gained another beautiful soul

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Sorry this request might be a little weird; Im gonna try and word it best I can. Can you do something with Alastor and the reader, who very slowly and maybe unintentionally became friends; where Alastor confesses his feelings and how much he cares for the reader... But the reader doesnt take him seriously? The reader basically doesnt think he is actually interested in dating them. The reader thinks its a joke, he is just trying to use them, or otherwise just trying to get something out of them. Not in like a distrustful way either. The reader has the attitude of 'oh yeah. The great radio demon who has girls falling at his feet and can get ANYONE he wants is interested in me? Right, good one.' Like its a self-esteem/self-worth thing stopping them from believing him. Oh and this is for Hazbin Hotel obviously, but just in case I had to say it.

Please Please Please~

(This honestly was me projecting because this is me anytime someone shows interest in me. I have horrible self-esteem issues lol)

When you woke in hell, you thought nothing of it, really. You did some good, and you sure did some bad, so maybe this was exactly where you were always supposed to be. You had no anger or frustration about your placement because you simply couldn’t care enough. Heaven or hell, you probably would still be fighting for something. If anything, you hoped you would just fall asleep in death, but where would the fun in that be?

Upon your arrival, a few things became quite clear: 1. It was a dog-eat-dog world here in hell, so be prepared for anything. 2. The more souls you own, the more powerful you are, so start making some friends to make just as many enemies. 3. You will always be less powerful and popular than the TV head and the Radio Demon.

The only downside is you never got to meet this Radio Demon. He had been missing for seven years, according to the streets, and long gone, but still, he was the talk of countless women and men, especially Vox. This wasn’t a surprise, though; how people explained his rise to power was even more impressive and unique to you. He would one day be a formidable foe if you crossed him, or would he? The last extermination was killer. Half your souls had been killed off, and you were left a lot weaker from an injury caused by angelic steel. A slash was going straight across your back from a poorly-timed dodge. You weren’t bad at fighting; you weren't good at it either. Usually, during exterminations, you would hide at the Vee’s tower or another notable place. However, unsurprisingly, you were kicked out after your loud denial of working with the Vees. 

Seeking refuge at the next best place, you stumbled upon the Hazbin Hotel. Delirious and in pain, it was indeed just a stumble into the lobby. Upon entering, you saw an excited and concerned blonde chick, someone with a spear, and then all that was left was just red—beautiful crimson red. 

Some days had to have passed; you only know this because your wounds were wrapped up, and the calendar in the room you were placed in had days since the extermination marked off. Five days you spent asleep resting and recouping. Though your body was mainly healed, the scar you saw on your back when you stood was anything but attractive. Sighing, you sat on the cold bathroom floor.

You were never much of a beauty in your mind. You were just simply good enough. Sometimes, you could seduce a soul into your clutches, win a soul gambling, and sometimes gain one from fighting—a jack of all trades, master of none. Yet now, your value has significantly decreased with a giant scare running across the expanse of your back. Sighing, you stood once more and decided you would figure out where the hell you were and who was stupidly kind enough to help you.

With your top half fully bandaged, you didn’t think about putting on a shirt. The idea of anything rubbing on your wound annoyed you greatly. So, being mindful of potential others, you walked around carefully, ensuring your bandages were tight. Looking around, it was a reasonably average hotel. Nothing was too crazy about it; it just had some eerie decor at the most.

Rounding the last corner, you found stairs that opened up to the lobby, and dear lord, above did you wish you stayed in your room. A loud, cheerful presence came bombarding you, shouting a hundred questions about your health, your name, and what happened. You almost wanted to retreat into the shadows at how brightly she shone when you agreed to stay at her hotel and take a shot at redemption.

You met the residents quickly after that. It's not like you had much of a choice anyway. Surprisingly, the one you clicked with the most was the famed Alastor, the Radio Demon. How you two clicked was beyond everyone, besides the fact you were cunning and a silver tongue speaker like the man himself. Maybe that is why he found you amusing and watched you work your magic on lulling Husk even into a secure enough place to talk to you.

His lack of asking for your soul surprised you more than anything. Though you knew Charlie had her rules in the hotel, that didn’t dissuade the Deer from making his own choices. You commended him for his poise and regality; you understood why he was the talk of the town even when Vox was trying so hard to be the new it boy. Alastor was handsome in a nonconventional way; he was refined, elegant, and poised. He treated women like a gentlemen and men like they were just one step below him. 

You wouldn’t lie to yourself and say you weren't enamored; you liked him a lot from just the first handful of conversations. However, one late night really sealed the nail in your coffin of love for the affamed Overlord. You two were sitting on the lobby chair, the long-forgotten bar, and a nursed bottle of Whiskey between you two. Each new glass only brought you two closer, having a lot of similarities. 

You also killed upon your time on earth as a means to protect the ones you cared about and end those who acted foolishly like them. You also died an untimely death at the hands of something out of your control. You were both quick-witted and capable of compelling those around you with your voice and words. The only significant difference was he was an Overlord, a beautiful, attractive overlord. At the same time, you were just a sinner with a few damned souls that saw potential in you.

After that night, you and Alastor grew a lot closer. You would even dare to call him your best friend, knowing that nothing more would ever come of your two relationship past that. Not only was Alastor continuously turning women and men down left and right, but Angel was convinced the man didn’t know what romance or sex was. You couldn’t help but agree with him as every beautiful person who crossed his path was quickly shooed away or disposed of. 

As the Adam-led extermination approached, you noticed Alastor took a particular interest in your training. You were opting for him to train you and approve your placement on the battlefield. Your heart soared at his kindness, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. He didn’t want to lose a like-minded friend, which was all this was. As you all prepared for the event, his sudden and lingering hug was just him being worried about a friend.

You would do and say anything to convince yourself he just saw you as a friend, even as he scolded you for your injuries after the battle. He just cared a lot about his best friend. You were nothing comparative in power and prestige as Alastor was, so he would never see you as more. This was all just a fond kindness he used with Niffty, Roise, and Mimzy. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be a fool and believe anything more would happen. 

As your affection grew for the Radio Demon, so did your self-doubt and negative self-esteem. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself like Mimzy, pining after a demon that would never love you. Your nights at the bar became more and more apparent enough that Husk took to talking to you and trying to help you out. This didn’t go unnoticed by the boss of said man. No, instead, jealousy was brewing inside of him, watching you grow closer to the cat demon. Jealousy that was soon to reach a head.

Alastor was utterly infatuated with you. You were a perfect mix of normalcy and insanity, something he admired dearly. You were not overbearing or clingy like Mimzy, not psychotic and wild like Niffty, and not motherly and borderline insane like Rosie. No, you were a perfect combination of what he loved in all his dear friends. That’s all you were right, a dear friend. It didn’t help that you stopped spending time with him and hanging around Husk; he grew irate. 

He needed help and fast; who better to turn to than his motherly companion, Rosie? Wanting to get you out of Husk's grasp, though he invited you along on the trip. It was pleasant. You wrapped around his arm as he led you through the streets, up until cannibal town people cowering at your feet. Once in cannibal town, though, the women came flocking. He was used to this, declining, pushing people away, and even allowing his shadows a meal or two. However, the frown on your face was the least of his expectations. He hadn’t long to question it before you two arrived at Rosie’s Emporium. 

As you two entered, you were immediately enamored with all of the goods Rosie had sold. Once quick introductions were out of the way, Alastor approached the side table to speak with his friend while you looked around more. His worries and fears were confirmed, though; he was, in fact, in love with you. Alastor wasn’t one to skimp on charm; he was a gentleman who would court you properly. 

After your visit to Rosies, you noticed a new change in Alastor. He was quite literally everywhere you were. You couldn’t get far without him complimenting you, giving you a gift, or asking you to accompany him on errands. You figured that your time secluding and hanging out with Husk might have made him think you didn’t want to be friends anymore. So, with a smile, you welcomed this change and stuck through it. Why not accept his doting behavior before he finally broke your heart and said he didn’t like dating or got a partner? 

This went on for months. The lingering touches, longer hugs, late-night talks, gifts galore, and, most importantly, him letting his guard down around you made you feel special. According to Husk, he hasn't done this with any of his other close friends. This made you almost hope that there was something more. Alastor had countless options, though, so of course, he would never choose you. Why would you allow him to embarrass you like that? 

After six months of pursuing you, Alastor believed he had amply courted you. He had enlisted the help of Charlie and Vaggie to set up the lobby so he could ask you to be his officially. The room was perfect: low lighting, candles, your favorite flowers, and food placed out. All that was missing was you there on his arm. He knew it was perfect for you, everything to your heart's desire. 

You were in shock as you entered the lobby after an impromptu errand Charlie needed to be done. You couldn’t even begin to understand what was going on. As you walked in, you saw Alastor sitting at the table before you, a large smile on his face. You looked at him quizically. “Uh, Al, what is all this?” He looked around awkwardly—that was the first time you saw that expression. “Well, Y/N, what does it look like? Of course, it's a date for us, in the hotel's safety.” You scrunched up your eyebrows, trying to process his words. “A date?” He seemed to be growing more tense by the moment; he expected you to be happy and excited, and you seemed to like his courting so much. “Yes, dear, we have been courting for some time now, which leads me to believe you were ready for a date. Was I mistaken?” You were taken aback. Are you courting? When did that happen? You looked at Alastor, trying to piece together the puzzles. Could he have liked you all this time? No, there is no way; he had so many options, so many better, less disfigured options. “Al, are you waiting for a different girl? Is this some like practice run for a person you want to date? You shouldn’t play with me like this. It’s not nice.” Alastor looked genuinely upset, only momentarily before his signature smile returned. “No, Y/N. This is for you. I have been courting you. Did you not realize my advances towards you? I have been avidly seeking you and you alone out.” You started to tear up. You wanted to believe him; you did, but it was hard. You weren’t the best; you weren’t the strongest. You had nothing going for you than surviving hell each day. “What, no? What do you mean? You can’t mean me. I am nothing, Alastor. I am nothing; I would just be embarrassing you. You are a powerful Overlord—a handsome, sought-after man. I am nothing. I am just here a sinner designed to fight through hell, that is all.” Alastor began to realize what you were getting at. You didn’t see yourself as being good enough for him. He never learned the toll you put yourself through watching person after person fall to his feet. You were watching him turn them all away and go about his day. You thought he was going to do the same to you. You thought you would never be good enough for him when you have always been what he wanted all along. 

“Oh, Y/N, no.” He rushed over to you, holding you close. Even as you fought to push him away, he stayed holding you close until you calmed. “Y/N, it has always been you. Yes, I am rough around the edges and have high expectations, but you meet them, Y/N. Can you not see how close and compatible we are since the day you moved in?” You stilled and listened. Could it be true that he liked you too this whole time? What if this was some sick prank to torture you? You looked up at Alastor, a genuine smile replacing his normal, calculated one. “Alastor, if I agree with this, you won't hurt me, right?” He sighed and held you close. “I can’t promise not to hurt you; I am an overlord and a selfish creature. However, I promise never to lie, cheat, or steal from you. I choose to love you and you alone, Y/N.” You smiled brightly and reached up, kissing his lips softly. His arms snaked around your waist as he deepened the kiss, and both of you closed your eyes. You could easily get used to being the top overlord's girl. 

Just please, please, please let him prove you wrong…

[yandereunsolved]

" you're my lover, my protector, my favorite sin. " — Yandere Endverse Castiel w/ an angel darling

cw(s): yandere themes, light nsfw (sexual innuendos & non-descript intimacy), dubious consent

ʚɞ

🪽 It's no secret that the both of you share a sacred bond. Over many millennia, your brothers and sisters have whispered such things. No one has seen God since creation, an unspoken truth that can lead to losing an etheral being's life. Yet, you have heard others say that God destined that the both of you would fall in love. An action that is more forbidden than Eve and Adam taking a bite of the apple.

You were never fond of your 'siblings'. That word felt so human. It disgusted you. You were not related to them in any way but God, as all other creatures were. You held no loyalties to those who you served above in station and those you helped below.

The only being that stayed constant throughout creation was Castiel. Your Castiel.

When the seals began breaking, you stood by and allowed it to happen, as was fated. You fought with those in your garrison to protect heaven from the demonic onslaught. Somewhere within it all, you lost your Castiel.

He was assigned to save a soul from hell. Thousands of angels went with him; less than a hundred returned with their grace intact. You searched and finally rejoiced when he returned, albeit different than before. He avoided you as if you were one of the same creatures that he had to kill. You knew he was reprimanded and sent back to Earth.

That's the last you saw of him. You were told by your superiors that he was stripped of his wings and then killed. You nearly contemplated becoming one of them. Never had you felt such human emotions.

🪽 The apocalypse. Michael was supposed to possess the human Castiel saved. Only that human refused to do the one job he was made for! Then Lucifer came and slaughtered the ethereal beings in heaven, from lowly Cherubs to the mighty Seraphim. A handful survived.

You should have felt something. You were subjected to serve under Lucifer. A holy, loyal angel would have fought until their death. You just realized Lucifer had a point. All of this was so meaningless. There is no beauty to humanity, only hatred and sin.

Castiel, one of the last times you saw him, told you how precious God's favorite creations were. How foolish of you to believe him. If it weren't for his weakness, then he'd still be here. You both could have had something.

🪽 Instead, you're Lucifer's right hand. It is quite the job. You have to tolerate his quirks. Like when he makes flirtatious comments and tries, yet horribly fails, at making you pliant. You hold great respect for him. You just wonder how long he will harass you. You prefer his true visage and not the meatsuit he constantly dons.

When you aren't simply an angelic being to be admired, you work. You come to settlements bearing false gifts and then spread the Croatoan virus until all the humans croak. No one suspects a lone angel in a vessel to be their doom. On the off chance you come across a hunter—that can get a bit messy. Still nothing but more ashes in the wind to you.

You would rather do that than be subjected to Lucifer's lackeys. They are, for lack of a better word, buffoons. You would think demons were knowledgeable on the most efficient torture methods. Whoever was in charge of hell pre-Lucifer was failing, or just as much of an idiot, or both. You never really paid attention to the demonic hierarchy until now. You just follow orders.

🪽 So when Lucifer gives you another job, you think nothing more of it. Camp Chitaqua. Your boss, as funny as he is, left out the fact they had enochian warding sigils all over the camp. That coupled with devil warding and pretty much as many sigils that any one place could have. This people, or at least their leader, is no amateur.

You would have to gain explicit permission to enter the camp. That is, if they don't figure out you are an angel, work for Lucifer, and want to slaughter them all first.

You know all the happenings around the camp, outside of the warding. You find a stray, clearly intoxicated human. Jimmy Novak—no. Jimmy Novak's soul is not in this body. It can't be. C. Cas. Castiel?

"What's cookin', sweetheart? You new 'round these parts?"

Everything about him is not, was not, him. His dialog, body language, and most importantly, how human his energy is. He's smoking a blunt for angel's sake! 

So now you have an easy way to gain permission and access to Camp Chitaqua.

You are conflicted on what to do.

Lucifer. That bastard.

🪽 Cas knows it's you. It's his baby. His love. Old Castiel was never brave enough to just spit out that he'd like to take you right then and there. Get your wings all ruffled up. Your graces intertwined and all that good stuff. Now he can. Well, not the grace part because he is no longer an angel, but he's sure he could still feel your grace. You could let him feel you in all the ways one could imagine.

He wants to know where you have been, but he kind of already knows. Even his stoned brain can put two and two together. The incredibly sexy dangerous beast that works for Lucifer and wants to kill them all, as informed to him by Dean, is obviously you. He knew you had a disliking for humans, but he didn't think you'd ever go this far. It's oddly attractive. Like, yeah, you can take him out anytime you'd like.

Angel, please, don't tease him like this.

He still yearns to hear the truth from those pretty lips of yours. He wants to tease the knowledge out of you. He wants to seduce you and show you what you've been missing out on. There's all these pent-up emotions when it comes to you. He just wants to let them all out. He'd prefer if all of them were let out inside you.

🪽 Cas shows you around the place. He is hanging off you the entire time. A few jealous looks are cast your way. At least what you felt was jealousy and arousal emanating from those campgoers. You nearly vomited from how strong it was. How tight does Castiel have these people wrapped around his finger? Very tight.

It kills him inside as he acts as if he hasn't the faintest idea of who you are. You're simply a lost traveler who he let in because you were just so lost... and hot... and he didn't want to miss his self-appointed orgey session with his favorites. He invited you to join them. It broke him when he saw your response. It was so much harsher than he thought. Yeouch.

He's gonna go self-medicate while Dean harshly interrogates you. You could have gotten out of the interrogation if you joined him. Just sayin'. You wouldn't even have to participate. Cas is fine with you just watching.

🪽 After one horribly long conversation with their leader and the failure of a vessel, you are suspiciously confirmed as a new resident in their camp. The wardings still dampen your power greatly, but you're able to fly out of there and back swiftly, just not in the blink of an eye.

You report back to Lucifer while everyone is resting. The damned devil knew exactly what he was doing, sending you in there. He makes piss poor excuses and decides to cut you a deal. Camp Chitaqua? It can stay for now. Even after Lucifer wipes it off the proverbial map, that fallen angel of yours can stay alive. You just have to... do a few things for him. Everything, in fact. No more of this informal loyalty business.

He is demanding a grace pact. The both of you intertwine your angelic nature to make a deal that neither side can break, lest their grace be snuffed out.

You obey his every order.

Castiel stays safe, and Camp Chitaqua also has temporary amnesty.

You loved your Castiel. That much is true. It's just—this new one isn't your Castiel. You have to get him back somehow.

🪽 Cas doesn't want to go back to how he was. He does want you. And you, you try so hard to 'fix' him. He doesn't need to be fixed.

You go as far as to reveal your true identity, but not your workings with the devil himself.

He simply takes a hit of his bong and buries his true feelings. He can't tell you how much he has needed you... for so many years... so many. The first time he ever came to was the thought of you. So many of his 'firsts' were thinking, wishing, yearning, and praying that it was you.

You can't love that pathetic, emotionless winged dick. He isn't a winged dick anymore. He's just the second part, and boy is he good at it.

He'll play your little games if it means you'll stay by his side longer. He's petrified that you'll abandon him once you realize this is him. He is no longer a dignified Angel of the Lord. He's this.

Why can't you just love the true him?

You play this never-ending back and forth. It's the same game, altered rules.

🪽 It takes him a while to learn about your pact with the devil. When he does, he gets pissed. His love cave is messier than usual. He pulled out all his old knowledge and is flipping through the few magical books they've been able to preserve. He cancels all of his fun times. He shuts everyone out.

His sole focus is figuring out how to undo this.

How fucking dare he. He may just be a mortal... a weak body of flesh and bone that can be killed by just a cut, but that doesn't change the fact that Lucifer has you by the tips of your wings.

Who knows what that, as his older brother said, big bag of dicks is doing!?

It makes you swoon. You see your Cas-tiel again.

Lucifer is able to feel that. What happens because of that? Only you know. And some of those things will stay deeply buried in your memories for an eternity to come.

🪽 Castiel takes more risks outside of base camp because he knows you'll save him. You're his own personal guardian angel. He uses that to his advantage. He locates information and finds ways to hide certain things from you. He isn't sure if he's doing a good job, but he has to try, just one more time. After all, the apocalypse has already happened.

"I'm going to make a really bad decision."

Lucifer himself knows what that means for you.

"Please, no."

Every time you say no to his idiocy, he takes that as a yes. You don't exactly mind it. You haven't seen this side of Cas before. Well—this... everything, you haven't seen before.

🪽 He relaxes back to his endverse self after a handful of months. He's made some good progress with his research. So he decided to grow bolder. Orgies! His favorite hobby.

Except this time he outs you as a divine being. He just tweaks the details a little bit. You're a sex goddess, hiding from the big bad Lucifer that wants to hurt you. He tells Dean this, and he believes it. Hey, Dean trusts Cas, and it makes a lot of sense. You're skittish and hella fuckable. Perhaps Cas can hook him up one night—if he ever gets a break from making sure everyone keeps their bits and bobs in place.

No wonder Cas's condom use has gone up quadruplefold since you appeared.

He holds elaborate sex rituals in your name and your name alone. All other gods are dead. It's time to make you a new one.

The coy fucker acts like this wasn't his plan. He just stumbled into it. He's just a silly little stoner. Your silly little stoner.

"Baby, I can feel your grace. Don't be mad—I'm just teaching others to worship you as I do." He worships you the best.

🪽 As one does, he sacrifices those he doesn't like. In secret. He takes out those infected with Croatoan virus, or so everyone thinks. He isn't sure if Dean has caught on yet. If Dean has, then he hasn't confronted Cas on it.

It stems from jealously. You are starting to help others in camp. You have never helped humans like this before. It's strange. It should be him! Only him! It's selfish, okay? He gets it. But he has known you for far longer than anyone. Only he knows how to take care of you. He is the only one who has earned your blessings.

So—someone else gets your aid? Oh, no, no, no, no, no! You are his provocative savior.

And also just a teensy eensie weensie blood ritual that could set you free from Lucifer and tie you to him. It requires a lot of blood. And unfortunately, willing or unwilling participants aren't easy to come by.

🪽 All of these human needs in him. He needs you corrupted. He's sure Lucifer has been trying this entire time. Lucifer doesn't have what you have with him.

He doesn't want you to fall, not that there really is a heaven anymore to punish you. He just needs you to be so utterly fucked out, so entirely his.

So little old you is struggling where your loyalties lie. He knows this. He can still read you, somewhat. He knows you'll choose him in the end, after the end.

You always do.

[arjwrites]

i could never give you peace- sam winchester x reader

summary: as the world ends, you and sam share comfort and fears

warnings: none, no use of y/n, gn!reader

word count: 1.8k (including the song lyrics)

song: peace by taylor swift

a/n: thank you so so so much for requesting this! i reference a lot of canon events but like very loosely and very much so for the sake of this plot. so there are probably a few inconsistencies you may have to overlook or canon plot points you may have to disregard hahaha. i really hope you enjoy <333

our coming-of-age has come and gone, suddenly the summer, it's clear

You sat, perched on the trunk of the Impala. The metal was warm under your legs as it seeped into your core, its temperature battling against the chilly breeze that was sending shivers across your upper body. It was as if summer was fighting desperately to hold on, but autumn was gaining ground by the minute. The air already felt different, a clear sign that things were changing around you and there was nothing you could do about it. 

As your arms pulled your knees inwards toward your chest and your chin found a home to rest atop them, another body brushed against yours. Sam leaned against the trunk next to you, snaking a hand around your waist before joining your comfortable silence. It was as close to a moment of peace as you three had experienced in a while, pulled over to the side of a gorgeous mountain highway to rest as Dean tinkered with something under the hood of the car- a moment of escape for you all.

While Sam’s eyes settled on the picturesque landscape in front of you, tinged so perfectly with a sweeping brushstroke of sunset colors, you found your own gaze resting on him. At first glance, you saw Sam, the same Sam you spent every hour of every day with. The Sam you loved, the Sam you knew intimately, as if he was an extension of your own soul. You smiled to yourself, awash with the familiar comfort of his presence. You sat like this for a while.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he remarked after some time, turning his head towards you. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words got caught somewhere on their journey to escape your lips. You blinked in a slight disbelief. One minute, you were looking at the same Sam who had sat down next to you, but with the flash of his big, cheesy smile, all of a sudden he was someone else. For a fleeting moment, captured in that look of pure joy, you saw Sammy. The long, tired years melted off his face for a fraction of a second and you were transported back all those years ago, when you had just met, when things weren’t as heavy, when there was still hope and peace in the world. 

“Yeah. It’s beautiful, Sam,” you whispered. You blinked away the tears that began to well in your eyes, and as they melted back into a gloss that coated your vision, the moment was gone. It was just Sam again. It was then you realized just how much you two had grown up together- just how different things had become. 

i never had the courage of my convictions as long as danger is near and it's just around the corner, darling, 'cause it lives in me no, i could never give you peace

Your journey with Sam had been a long one. Every trial and tribulation, every vampire and demon and werewolf, every run-in with heaven or hell, the devil himself, the two of you were hand-in-hand. 

You had met Sam back when things were simple- when life was solving cases and looking for his father. Finding Sam had been like finding a missing piece of your soul. You fit together so easily, so effortlessly, it was as if you were meant for each other. The two of you fell hard and fast, inseparable from the moment you locked eyes the first time. You knew it in your heart, and Sam did too.

Then, things began to change, and quickly. Right before your eyes, your sweet, dorky boyfriend became the eye of the storm. Wherever he went, death and destruction followed close behind. And that terrified Sam to his very core. He pulled back, pushed away, but you persisted. Each attempt he made to evade your love, to distance himself, to keep from endangering you, you remained starkly at his side. If it was truly the end of the world, like everyone said, you’d go down swinging. You’d go down with Sam. 

but i'm a fire, and i’ll keep your brittle heart warm if your cascade ocean wave blues come

Times were tough for a long time. Things never really got easier, but the two of you got used to the chaos. As guilty as Sam felt for putting you in danger, he was so grateful that you chose to stick around. After each obstacle, each battle, he would thank his lucky stars that he had you there to give him the strength to go on. You were the lighthouse that guided him home through rough seas. And anytime he lost faith, one look at you reminded him what he was fighting for. There were many times where the world felt cold and dark, unforgiving. But then there was you- the warmth and light you radiated was enough to light a spark, to bring joy back to his world. 

all these people think love's for show but i would die for you in secret

Sam Winchester was a lot of things. The boy with the demon blood, Lucifer’s vessel, bringer of the apocalypse, saver of the world. But none of these things mattered, because behind closed doors, Sam Winchester was nothing but yours. In quiet moments, Sam would hold you close, reveling in the chance to have something truly good that he didn’t have to fight tooth and nail for. You would be there for Sam no matter what, willing to lay your life on the line to save him- the world be damned. There was no world without Sam Winchester. And Sam saw no world worth living in without you. 

the devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me would it be enough if i could never give you peace?

The one thing you could never help Sam through was his guilt. You grounded him through hell and back, quelling his fears and lifting his spirits. But each time you found yourself in the line of fire, ever in the slightest hint of danger, a heavy weight pressed in Sam’s stomach, and he would never accept your attempts at absolution. 

“You just… You deserve a normal life. Some peace, after all these years. I’m stuck in this, it’s in my blood, but you? You could have so much more. I wish you would see that.” 

In these moments, you would sit with him, murmur in his ear all the reasons you loved him, all the reasons you stayed. You would remind him that the same duty that compelled him to save the world, time and time again, compelled you to save him. To care for him, to love him. Any soft, quiet, comfortable days, hours, minutes, however few and far between, were your peace. He was your peace. 

and you know that I'd swing with you for the fences sit with you in the trenches give you my wild, give you a child

The highs were high and the lows were low, but with you, nothing was impossible for Sam to bear. You were there to shout victories from the rooftops, always the first to sing praises and raise toasts. And you were there to pick up broken pieces, to sit crosslegged on the bedroom floor and put things back together. No weight was ever carried alone- every burden was shared to lighten the load. 

There was so much you were willing to offer Sam, and him you. On hunts and in battles, the two of you could be reckless, wild, throwing your bodies in front of each other to spare even the smallest hurt. And when you got home, you protected each other in gentler ways. When it was too hard to think about the things going on beyond your bedroom door, you and Sam would talk about your future life- about when this was all over, if it ever could be. You had big dreams- at least, they felt big to the two of you, but they were nothing out of the ordinary. That was the goal- ordinary. You’d trade questions- “What color should we paint the living room?” “Where will we go on our honeymoon?” “What do you think our daughter will be like?” 

give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other

Other times, it was easier not to speak at all. To anyone else, the silence you often shared may have felt heavy and imposing. But for the two of you, it was an unparalleled comfort. You would turn all the lights off and lay in your bed in the dark, listening to the sound of each other breathing, watching each other intensely. These were times where you could simply be. Times where your eyes and souls and hands did all the talking- a kind of communication that transcended language, but provided so much understanding. 

family that I chose, now that i see your brother as my brother is it enough?

Over the years, you had settled together into a little family. The love you felt for Sam extended in many ways to Dean- the only other person in this world that tethered Sam to reality. Dean was your brother just as much as he was Sam’s. And Dean saw what you meant to his younger brother- he knew you were the lifevest keeping him afloat more often than not. You and Dean shared a special kind of understanding that manifested in knowing glances and whispered comments behind Sam’s back. Sam was both of your number one priority at all times, a powerful force that brought you two together in the early days, and kept you two close over the years. 

but there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west i’d give you my sunshine, give you my best but the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me

Sometimes it felt like you were surrounded. There was no way out- nowhere to turn, to take cover, to make an escape. Heaven, hell, everyone was hot on your trail. Sam and Dean had their roles to play in the end of the world, so you dutifully settled into yours, trying every day to bring the light into Sam’s days. But there was only so far tender kisses and sweet words could go when your lives were crashing down around you. It didn’t matter, though. This was your duty, your sense of fulfillment. If you could bring a moment of levity in the darkness, or take on even the smallest ounce of his burden, you felt a sense of meaning. It was an uphill battle, day after day. 

would it be enough if i could never give you peace?

You weren’t sure you were going to make it out of this alive. Any of you. And that’s what hurt the most. As much as Sam worried about you, you were the one who could never give him peace. But no matter what, you would go down swinging, fighting to show him the love that he so desperately deserved and so defiantly denied himself. Maybe it would be enough to save him. Maybe it would make it all worthwhile.

[libby-for-life]

Ok I’m officially convinced that there is some kind of drug in your works, because I am an addict! It’s incredible!!! anyway what I wanted to ask you about you know how eventually Lilith and Lucifer are sent to Hell for their actions, what if Adam was sent with them as to make sure they never rise up against Heaven. and think about it, Lucifer gets not one but TWO queens!

Why thank you. I do happen to put coke in the stories so that's probably what you're experiencing!

I really like this idea!

Adam died after a long and fruitful life. He had many many children and he was alive to see those children become parents and then grandparents and then great-grandparents. He died at the ripe age of 989.

He closed his eyes, his family surrounding him as he passed on. He opened his eyes to a bright light.

"Adam." A familiar voice said. "Welcome, to Heaven. We have much to discuss."

Adam didn't have much of a chance to gain his bearings before he was grabbed and hauled up. "What?" Adam muttered.

"Hush. Be silent." A gruff voice said and it made Adam look over to see a familiar angel. "Michael?" Michael gave him an unreadable look and pushed him forward. Adam was guided roughly toward a building. "Michael, what's going—"

Adam yelped as he was pushed into the building and came face-to-face with Sera. "Sera. What's going on? Why is everyone being so weird?"

Sera grimaced as suddenly chains bound Adam to the floor. "Sera!" Adam cried, a look of betrayal on his face as he was hauled up onto his knees.

"For what's its worth, you were meant for Heaven." Sera began as a gag was fitted over Adam’s mouth. Tears gathered at the edge of his eyes as he glared at Sera. "But I have to think of what's best for Heaven and that means sacrifice." Micheal picked up Adam and they all stepped onto some pad. Glowing light filled his vision as the room was replaced and they appeared in another room.

The air no longer smelled sweet and Adam coughed into the gag.

"Lucifer. Lilith. It seems that you have already arrived. "

Adam's eyes widened at those names and began to violently shake. No. No! Not them! Not the people who abandoned him! More tears fell to the ground as Michael jostled him.

"That's him?" A smooth voice said and Adam immediately recognized it as Lilith.

"Yes. In exchange for you and your people never going against Heaven, we give you what you've requested. Adam's soul." Adam tried to fight out of Michael's arms but his hair was harshly pulled making him whimper in pain. "Stop squirming. Be grateful. You're helping Heaven stay strong."

He risked a glance at the two people he feared the most. They both were glaring at Sera and it made Adam pale. 'They're gonna kill me.' Adam thought as he let out a choked sob.

"Then I suggest you hand him over," Lucifer growled. Micheal scoffed at his brother before holding out Adam like he was some sort of disgusting pet he no longer wanted. Lilith glided over and Adam flinched when she touched him but was somewhat surprised when her arms held him gently.

Lilith guided his head to the crook of her neck and Adam could smell Lily of the Valley, cinnamon, and something distinctly Lilith.

While his mind was still in a frenzy, his body relaxed in the gentle hold, her pheromones making him calm.

"Good. Now leave."

Adam could feel the angels leave and he whimpered at being left alone. He was always being left alone. Why? Why?!

"Oh, Adam. What have they done to you?" Lucifer crooned as he rubbed Adam's back. "Let's get these nasty chains off you." Adam held back more tears as Lilith and Lucifer began unwrapping him from the golden chains. Adam didn't understand the looks they were giving him.

They looked...soft and loving. Adam must be hallucinating it. His mind was trying to come up with an explanation and this was what he had always wanted so of course his mind went there.

Soon, all he was left in was a gag and the tunic he arrived in. His white wings shivered as Lucifer caressed them. "So beautiful." Lucifer murmured.

Lilith chuckled before taking the gag off. Adam gasped and immediately asked, "Are you going to kill me?"

Lilith and Lucifer looked surprised but then angry making Adam close his eyes in fear. "Is that what they told you?" Lilith demanded, her hand finding hold of his brown locks. It was gently rubbed through with delicate fingers.

Adam whimpered. "N-no. You hate me!" He cried but was silenced as he felt lips meet his wings, no, the base and it made Adam shiver in Lilith's lap. "We don't hate you, Adam," Lilith said with a sultry smile as she kissed his cheek. Adam blushed heavily. He was very confused but a warm feeling filled his belly and he couldn't help but hide in the crook of Lilith's neck.

Two chuckles filled the room. "Don't worry, Adam. We have an eternity to prove it to you."

[redrandomposts]

hualian soulmate aus - age of death; scars

when xie lian was born, he had an inconspicuous brown '17' on the inside of his ankle. it was wrapped in bandages, hidden from the world.

he learned why when he turned sixteen. '17', something he'd had not put a lot of thought on, was the age his soulmate would die. the mark had become so much more important that moment. each morning, each night, when he had even a minute to spare he'd unwrap the bandage and check.

would there even be a difference in the mark once his soulmate died? would he be left to wonder if his soulmate was out there, or would he know the exact moment his soulmate died?

xie lian didn't know which was worse.

midway through the war, xie lian had stopped. he didn't want to know if his soulmate died, because what if? what if he was from yong'an and slaughtered by his soldiers, or what if he fought for xian'le and died for him?

he wishes he knew the exact time his soulmate died.

he unwrapped the bandage, a fierce desperation that tore the cloth. just before him, his parents hung from the ceiling. the inconspicious brown turned black, stark against his pale skin.

he wanted to throw up. did his soulmate die the day mu qing left, or feng xin? did his soulmate leave with his parents? did his soulmate die before that?

he wishes he checked once, twice more.

seeing the little soldier - wu ming - had brought more thoughts to him. what if his soulmate had become a ghost too? what if his soulmate was like the ghost fire who was looking for it's beloved? he checked the mark every day, looked thoroughly at each soul he collected, for something. a chance.

the 'something' came to him too soon. the chance dispersed with his soulmate. he wishes, wishes he cherished wu ming more. cradled wu ming and his flower, unhooked the mask and took a look at his face, asked for more than a name he never got.

he wished he memorized wu ming's face, wished he knew his body as if it were his own, wished he knew every bit of his soulmate.

he wished he took the chance with his soulmate.

the black turned crimson, an open wound against his skin. he didn't need the second shackle on the opposite ankle, because he had a perfectly good reminder. a reminder that had stuck to him the moment he was born.

the wound was more of a reminder than the shackle was, no matter how metaphorical it was.

800 years later, he found love.

even if it wasn't his soulmate, he loved hua cheng the same. his voice, his face, each tidbit of knowledge he held. beautiful, generous, and... and already had a beloved. a beloved who, no doubt, was his soulmate.

late nights alone, xie lian would imagine himself as hua cheng's beloved. a world where he never fucked up, where he lost his chance with. where he never lost his soulmate.

it came true, with a burst of silver butterflies. his third chance, handed to him on the same platter of wu ming's, had dispersed.

the '17' became silver, an old wound that had scarred yet was no less painful. a year spent waiting, until finally, finally he had him in his arms.

(one day, he wouldn't feel worried whenever hua cheng was out of sight. one day, he'd stop dragging the ghost king to meetings in heaven. one day, he'd stop going to the gambler's den with him unnecessarily. one day, he'd forget the pain of losing him.)

===

hong-er was born with no scars. as he grew, it was clear to all others he had no soulmate. another misfortune his eye had given him.

but hong-er knew they were wrong. the slight discoloration on his knees at times, slivers of pale, silver scars that faded not days later told him he had a soulmate. even if they weren't numerous, it were tells he had one, he knew he had to!

he felt a bit guilty at all the scars he left his soulmate in turn. his soulmate tried so hard, yet each day would gain a dozen scars from hong-er.

wu ming wishes he had the same troubles. over a hundred wounds on his body, still stark on his skin despite their disappearance on the soulmate himself. a bruise wrapping his neck like a collar. he wrapped strips of cloth, torn from his robes, around himself as if he could heal the wounds his soulmate - dianxia - took.

the souls didn't leave a single mark on his soulmate, as thorough as they were in destroying him. he could only be grateful for that.

hua cheng hopes he didn't leave a scar on dianxia's eye. tearing it out was a rash decision, but it was something that was to be done.

when he saw his soulmate again, free of any scars, the only thought hua cheng had was relief. his soulmate didn't deserve such a thing. dianxia looked lovely in unmarred skin.

gege had thought differently when he asked. his entire demeanor had sunken at the mention, and hua cheng wished he could take it back.

hua cheng couldn't bear to reveal himself as his soulmate. he should be grateful to bear every scar, even if xie lian doesn't have his. he should be grateful to even be in his presence.

(later, when all was said and done, xie lian still didn't bear his scars, that was because xie lian didn't let him get scars, just as hua cheng didn't let him get any. they knew they were soulmates either way.)

======

notes!

age of death au -death either means death or loss of mortality. soulmarks can reflect the age a person ascends, becomes immortal, or dies -hua cheng's '17' is on his eyelid. it doesn't show on his false forms, and it's hidden under his eyepatch in his true form. the '17' alternated between black and gold, reflecting whether xie lian was ascended or not. -hua cheng knows xie lian is his soulmate as he figured out the meaning of the colors at the time xie lian was first banished. -yes, he xuan and shi qingxuan were soulmates, which allowed shi wudu to swap their fates.

scars au -jun wu seals xie lian's ability to gain scars from his soulmate in case his soulmate reincarnated somehow. because they are from the universe itself, it takes a heavy toll and removes jun wu's ability to get marks from mei nianqing (or even removes the soul bond) as well. this allows mei nianqing to move with more stealth, but it causes jun wu to fall in a great despair. -hua cheng only realizes he's xie lian's soulmate in the temple. once he gained a form, each wound reflected onto him (although in a scarred state). xie lian, however, does not have any scars after he heals. -when wu ming disperses, he's wiped clean of all scars on him. -hua cheng had a large scar in his chest for a century during the time xie lian was buried.

[txtmetonight]

Two Slow Dancers

call summary ⋆ ★ As a young child, you preached over the thoughts of soulmates. Huening Kai had too, believed that two souls intertwined like puzzles–fitting perfectly. But sometimes, it’s almost too fitting to be true.

pairing *. * Huening Kai x Fem! Reader

genre⋆ ★ Angst

warnings *. Death, Cheating, Blood, Pregnancy, Bad Grammar, Crude language

call duration⋆ ★ 6.1k

a/n*. * Zoowemama 😍 finally wrapped up this series lol i'm js a bit late but whatever. ermm hyuka is an asshole ngl :(

taglist ⋆ ★ @kflixnet//@oreoqueen // @woncheecks//@probably-too-obssessed// @matcha-binz

The Mitski Diaries Masterlist

The idea of soulmates is beautiful.  

It’s astoundingly astronomical how the stars believe that two fated souls are meant to be intertwined, are supposed to be carried with one another while death does them apart, in their graves with smiles on their faces because... they had each other. You like the word “each other” for it means you wouldn’t have to die at the hands of loneliness, strangled by its cruel hands, which you beg for it to stop. 

Though you detest the word “had”.  

Your mom has your dad. Your older brother has found your sister-in-law. And your friends were dating their boyfriends, some already turned into fiancés. And you had Huening Kai, arguably the sweetest boy you’ve ever met. You were supposed to have him, but you had him.  

The walls of your bedroom walls were non-existent with personality, not a splotch of color that you could find for you wanted to wallow inside of your broken heart. You were to not make it past the age of twenty-one because your soulmate doesn’t love you anymore. You are dying of a broken heart and cannot do anything to stop it. And so, you cry.

You suppose that you hate Kai, but you really don’t. You can’t because that’s what fate had written down for you. A tale of despair between a couple that couldn’t hold much of a spark even through what the universe had chosen for them.  

You and Huening were a special case. And it hurt horribly the day that he had admitted that he had strayed off the path of love for you two. You weren’t the best with feelings, so you let him go as you watched with shame and a burning face that you wanted to melt off. He didn’t hold you in his heart anymore...but you still do, so what are you supposed to do now? Laugh? Forget?  

The answer was to do nothing at all and wait until your last day. 

And tomorrow is it.  

Does it smell like a school gymnasium in here? It's funny how they're all the same

You don’t prefer the new layout of the school gym at all. It crawls and picks at your skin in the way that the floorboards are now a shade of dark brown, and the walls are plastered with flourishing paintings that in your eyes look hideous. But the smell of familiarity still stuck in between the crevices of the gym, holding nostalgic memories that hurt to uncover.

The floor underneath you squeaks, but there is no one except for the meek moon there to listen to the way that your feet drag, unable to lift them for their heaviness has grown with immense dread that burns. The heavens twinkle in delight...at the way that you sorrow. But you’ve grown accustomed to the way that they laugh, drinking in that they will soon gain you through for such pathetic reasons.  

You’re just a bit early but you wanted to swallow the tremor in your throat before you officially meet him. And you want to hide how weak you’ve been getting; you can barely even stand up on your feet for too long before collapsing and your breath seems to run out faster from your lungs with a fervor that makes walking seem like a laborious chore.

You want to stay strong, to uphold an image that you want to be. Wanted it as a mask. But you couldn’t afford it, nope not at all. Not even as hard as you tried, with your memories of heartbreak holding you back.  

The bleachers are cold, and the stairs lead up into a cloud of darkness that you couldn’t peer through even as much as you squinted. The bottom step is made from wood, the only thing that wasn’t even bothered to be renovated, and you cross your legs, patiently waiting for the man of the hour.

You’ve already exchanged goodbyes with your family, have done a few days ago just before you locked yourself in your room, mindlessly hovering over the pictures that the walls held, smiling faintly every once in a while. And you find yourself doing it once more, scanning over the gym where you spent four years of your life, rotting away, piece by piece.  

The door creaks open amidst the silence, but you don’t jolt. Footsteps echo immensely, bouncing off the walls before they abruptly stop, leaving you to slowly snap your head to the shadowy figure that occupies just near the end of the bleachers. That’s where you used to meet up with him, just as the bell rang. You grin. 

“That stupid team is taking up all of your time with me!” Kai grumbles, pulling you closer by the straps of your backpack. Hair a mess and face flushed, you giggle at him and pull off your sweaty headband to launch at your boyfriend, who whines. “Are you not proud of me for making it in?” You snort, looking up at him to find him staring down at you with a soft smile that makes your heart churn.

“Of course, I am. You’re so sexy when you perform.” He dodges your hits with loud chuckles but then quiets down into a large pout. “It’s just that, I feel like we don’t spend that much time together anymore. And they’re like...stealing you away from me. Just say that you want to date your team and be over with it.”   

“Oh hush, stop being dramatic.” You reach over to place a chaste kiss on his cheeks, but he smugly turns his head to connect his lip with yours, which you don’t complain, pressing into him. “And plus, we have all the time in the world to be together. I’m yours, no?” 

You quickly avert your eyes as your stomach aches and stare at your shoes instead, tapping quietly. 

It's funny how you always remember

“Do you still dance?” The voice booms, and it’s comforting yet alienable to you. You take a second to pause, watching the figure walk closer and closer to where you currently sit. “No. I had to give it up.” You don’t provide an explanation, but you’re sure that he knows why.

“It was your whole life.” He rasps and suddenly you don’t think you’re ready to see him, because the moonlight lights his face up with a luminous glow, he almost looks like a fucking angel.

Your body reacts to the sight before you even realize it, and you lurch painfully as tears prick your eyes, coughing quite violently into your palms. A stingy smell of metal meets your nose, but you don’t pay mind to it the way that Kai does, eyes wide with a fearful shadow on his face. Turning to him, you wipe the liquid on the stairs and scoot over just a bit. 

“So were you.”  

“I’m sorry.”  

You shake your head and sigh, patting the space next to you. He hesitates a little but stalks over with long, slow steps, his hands curling into tight fists that pierce his palms before he relaxes them again–a habit you’ve seen countless amounts of times. Your eyes trail up over to his hair, and you notice that it’s a soft brown, just like he used to have it when you were with him and it makes your fingers tremble when you know that dyed it on purpose just for you. He knows.  

It was blonde just a few days before–but you’ve always liked brown on him.  

Kai is stunning and has always been, but he seems unreal as he sits down next to you with a golden face and soft smile that you can’t rip your eyes from, however hard you try to. And the way that he stares at you, penetrating your skin with a sharp glare that melts you inside, sends rolls of lightning down your back.  

“How have you been?” He’s tender when he speaks and gentle as he lifts his fingers to brush away a strand piece of hair from your face as if you were going to break if used much force. Yet the contact leaves your muscles spasming with pain, softly trying to grasp your leaving breath. Huening flinches too, pulling his hand back with a light gasp. “Oh no, I didn’t know that was going to hurt.”  

You can’t help but pull a smile and chuckle. “That’s alright. Honestly, I’ve felt worse before.” His eyebrows furrow but he doesn’t say more except to encourage you to answer his previous question with a shaky grin.  

“But...I think I’ve been fine? How about you? You’re dating someone aren’t you?” His lips turn at your words, and he softly grasps your hand beside him, your eyes widening at his sudden reaction. This time around your lungs don’t choke, but you think that you’re being drowned alive as Kai’s eyes drown with unexplainable tears. But you don’t do anything, instead, you intently watch him try to get words out, gaping like a pitiful fish.  

“Fuck I don’t even know why I’m crying...I just... I’ve been doing good too.” His flushed cheeks carry words that he couldn’t say and so you move just a little closer, but it feels wrong, especially when he another woman that he had at home waiting for him...but it wouldn’t hurt to indulge, right? “I shouldn’t have asked to meet up, should I? I’m sorry” You whisper, rubbing his cheeks.  

“No please don’t. I’m happy that I’m with you right now. I’ve missed you so much.”  

His words leave a blowing punch to your gut, as you lurch into him, gripping his hands tightly as you start to sob. Kai’s touch awakens sparks up your back, which just worsens when he pulls you closer to him, hugging flush against his chest. You feel like you’re floating as if you’re traveling between time and space, as if everything around you is actually okay... 

“Baby please don’t cry” Your boyfriend whispers in your ear, threading his fingers through your hair, wrapping his arms around your trembling figure. He’s warm like a blanket but that doesn’t stop your onslaught of tears that burn like acid on your cheeks.

Kai places his hand over yours and pulls it up to his lips to gently kiss before his other hand comes to wipe away at your face. His own eyes are overflowing but he stops them for you, trying not to crumble. You sniffle and bury yourself in his neck, trying to calm down your racing heartbeat.

You’ve never preferred to cry in front of others, rather liking to shed tears in the depths of your room but with Kai, you think that you’re safe with your feelings. You think that he’s the one for you to get rid of your sadness, the one that you’re going to love the most because he was Kai and possibly crying was quite stupid since he was your fucking soulmate.

Not your neighbor’s or your desk mate, he was yours. And maybe that’s why you were crying right now, but you didn’t want to dwell on it too much. 

“I think that this such a bad time, but I think that you’re really pretty right now.”  

Choking on a sob, you lift your head from the crook of his neck to stare at him with a curious look, lips puckering into a pout at his sudden confession that leaves his face in a sheepish matter. “W–what?” Grabbing his cheeks, you furrow your eyebrows. “I don’t know why you’re sad, but god I can’t help it. You’re so beautiful and it hurts that you’re crying.” And before you know it, his lips that were just on the side of your jaw pulls you into a slow kiss, soft and tender.  

Just like right now.  

And we've both done it all a hundred times before It's funny how I still forgot

After you two had parted ways on behalf of Kai, your lips would burn each time you wanted the affection of another. Maybe it was the universe refusing your attempts at another love or maybe you just couldn’t move on, but Kai’s lips on you right now are soothing but it churns something heavy deep in your gut. You’ve forgotten how he tastes like candy and how his lashes flutter shut, cherishing the intimate moment and the way that fingers paw at the base of your neck, asking for something more.

You want to blame it on the instincts or the muscle memory at the way that it doesn’t take you a second to push yourself into him, but you knew that you craved his touch for years on end, battling with serious heartache that will eventually end with you in your demise.  

Demise.  

Using your fingers, you gently push Kai’s face away from yours with wide eyes, chest stuttering rapidly. His own eyes draw big, but he doesn’t do anything to move his palm away from where it sat on you, instead, it feels as though he is digging it deeper into your skin. “You don’t love me.” You mumble, almost cry. “You’re not my soulmate anymore or else I–” 

“Would’ve lived. You would be next to me right now and you would be healthy and breathing just fine, and definitely not coughing up blood because god forbid you have it easy!” He gets loud at the end, and his words bounce off the walls, diminishing into nothingness. “But I want you to pretend.” Kai breathes and it makes you mad, furious.  “I don’t want to fucking pretend! This is my reality and I–I just...”  

You initiate the kiss this time. And he hesitates just a little before he leans in. This time around though it’s a bitter feeling of guilt, that fills up your senses and you can tell that Kai felt the same in the way that he squirms around.

A woman quite pretty and just his type doesn’t know her boyfriend was kissing his ex-lover. Was sitting dolled up for him as his hands roam around your face for a feel of something. You feel bad but you can’t stop as your heart slowly stops as the night becomes young and perhaps that’s how you’re trying to rekindle it again. By kissing him.  

You suppose that you hate that word now too. 

“I wish that we could go back again.” Kai pants against the corner of your mouth, finally pulling back a bit to observe you. You don’t know what to say so you avert your eyes and kick a spare gum wrapper from the floor.

“Whatever I guess.” You’re awkward but it’s unfamiliar to you when it’s with the person you’re with right now. You’re left speechless and so is he in the way that he nods his head and leaves not a word hanging in the air after you, and you realize that he’s right. You want to be young again without a thought in the world.

You want to talk again, and not through the monkey’s mouth like you were doing right now but through your actual teeth and tongue that used to chatter nonsensically. You want to breathe through your nose, not through an elephant’s trunk and you wish to be you again. Just you; but you assume that you’ve lost yourself years ago.  

It would be a hundred times easier If we were young again

Only twenty-one and you feel old, dying from blood that cannot be filtered through your veins due to a decaying love story that cannot be revived. The boy in front of you knows it too, but he still tries as he grabs your arm again, palms gone so cold that they stick to your skin like ice. “We have more time.” He says and shakes you out of the daze that you find yourself getting into recently.  

But as it is And it is

“You’re right. Do you want me to leave?”  

He shakes his head ‘no’ and rises to his feet, steady as he holds his hand out for you to take. “I want to take a walk and I’ve been longing to dance with you right after.”

Your fingers curl up against his palm before you’re forced to reel back once more, retching into your elbow as tears prick your eyes, the dark gym flashing into and out of view. Kai is behind you with pats of sympathy that you detest, yet you let him hold you up securely against him.  

“You’re okay” He whispers, and it takes you back to when he used to calm down the anxious tremors that used to encase you whole and it takes you a second to not let everything crash down when you realize that he was the one who was able to cake it down to a mere once in a while occasion where you would have internal panicked spikes of a heartbeat.  

With his comforting words that used to rely based on reassurance and love, you can’t find the affection when he says it now. It’s just you two, but it feels like others are crowding around you with jeers possibly along with the universe and those above taunting you. Because just like he said, they wouldn’t let you have it easy–to be the last ones out.

  

We're just two slow dancers, last ones out We're two slow dancers, last ones out

The gym is square in shape but is jutted out in some places to make room for the front doors and the locker rooms. So, when you and Kai walk, you must avoid the cracks in the wood and instead circle around them.

You don’t know how time has passed along so fast being with him, but you realize that the clock had always ticked faster, since the very beginning, you just weren’t ready. You weren’t sure–or rather prepared if you wanted to spend your time with the man beside you, spend your last breaths with him but the way that he stuns you to no limit makes you swallow down morsels of regret that coat your throat.

He’s quiet and so are you, which lets you have an eye of proper observation of the boy next to you. Kai, who you know from the bottom of your heart, is older than you last saw him.  

It hurts you think. Perhaps more than the scalding pain in your lungs that choke for proper air.  

He’s stayed the same height, but he’s grown into his face, more chiseled features that make you sway because–you couldn’t see him turn into the twenty-one-year-old he is now.

And you’re stuck staying the same, while he gets to change even more, which is not particularly fair yet when you press a soft kiss to his jaw (you’re sure your body moved on its own to blind you from the internal mess you were creating) you wouldn’t want him to have it anyway for fate has already played its tragedy covered cards. 

“You’re pale” He rumbles before he places his palm over your forehead. “And warm too. You have a fever.” And for some reason when he says it with a quiet voice, it pulls back more weary wrinkles into his face, and you wince. You must wonder how you look to him. “I suppose so. I’ve been at my sickest recently.” You mutter, throwing in a weak smile.  

And the ground has been slowly pulling us back down You see it on both our skin

“How much does it hurt? On a scale of one to ten” He says, holding up ten fingers which one is enveloped with your own hand, bringing both of his arms down at the same while he chuckles. “I dunno. Right now, I would give it a... seven point five?” Kai nods solemnly and suddenly you feel small underneath his gaze. “Is that so? I wonder how it feels?”  

“Really bad” You nervously laugh, swinging your arms back and forth in a constant rhythm. “It’s been harder to get out of bed, I just wish...wish that I had more time.” 

“I wish I could give you more time, to live longer. I’m sorry that I can’t.”  

You nod but you’ve fallen into a certain comfortable trance that the conversation is deemed normal to you. Odd and craving for more but no emptiness that leaves your heart desolate. The talk is sentimental and rather than wishing that you had more time to experience the world’s wonders you want more time to chatter with your heart’s content. Talk for years and years with your soulmate. You believe that you deserve it.  

“Do you remember the first time that we met?” Kai softly asks, coming to a halt in front of the doors that lead to the outside corridors. You twinkle and say, “How could I not.”  

You were running late. And in your first year of high school too. The clock screamed that it was currently 8:03 but you were supposed to be in your homeroom by 8:00 and you pray that Mr. Yoon accepted your tardiness with a flourish of his hand.

You’re drenched with sweat and your uniform is tugged wildly and your hair is askew with bits of it falling in your face, but you don’t pay any mind as you try not to crash into the lockers from your crazy sprinting.   

“Oh god!” You cry as you find that out the main doors to your science hallway, where your homeroom sat was locked and so you take a quiet of a big U-turn and make headway to the gym (which an older senior slipped to you was the way to escape the looming locks that the doors had to prevent tardy kids from getting in).

Fortunately, the first-day tour had paid off and you knew that the gym was exactly a hallway down to the left, so when you skid off, your feet landed you exactly in front of the door, tall and brown with a few splinters sticking out.  

“Please be open, please be open, please be open!”  

And it was open. But not by you, but by a lanky boy withholding stacks of papers.  

Perhaps you were blind because of the exhilaration in your veins, or he was just clueless about the desperate girl outside of the door, but you both head butt each other with a hard push, both falling to the ground with a loud grunt of despair. But that quick rush of anguish turns into something more magical. You feel as though you’re on cloud nine, fireworks bursting in your veins as your eyes blur in and out to adjust to the brighter look of colors–a more glowing appearance of the world.

Your fingers tingle and your tongue swirls with a hint of sweetness that you just couldn’t put your finger on. And the ache on your forehead had turned into a pulsing feeling of coolness. Since you were young, you’ve heard and read about the feelings of love and how pure it could be, but you think that the words that have spilled into your ears haven’t given justice to how exactly refreshing it was.  

���Holy...are you okay?” A voice sweet as honey makes your spine shiver with glee. “Yeah, I’m alright, but oh no! I’m late!” You cry, rising to your feet with panic but you’re suddenly held down by a gentle hand.

“It’ll be okay. Let’s go the nurse’s office and say that we had a nasty fall...but all my papers that I was supposed to give out fell.” A boy with the most stunning features you’ve ever seen, pouts at the fallen papers, and your heart practically jumps out from your chest, unable to stop smiling.

You would wonder if he had felt the same explosions as you, but the way that he trembles from the graze of your hand over his shoulder speaks wonders to you.  

“I’ll help.” You assure. 

“I–thank you.” He breathes and suddenly he can’t seem to take his eyes off you, making you feel warm inside. “You’re very pretty.” The unknown boy says, and you flush which makes him laugh.  

“What’s your name?”  

The boy smiles and throws you an eyebrow raise. “Huening Kai. But everyone calls me Kai!”  

Grabbing a piece of paper from the floor you respond with a small pep in your voice. “Yeah? Well, I’m (Y/n).”  

The first date you two shared was in the nurse’s office.  

And many more followed after that yet too less for your liking. 

You don’t even realize that you’re crying but you’re happy. Happy to be where it all started. The gym was the home that your heart lived in and the place that it chose to die. It’s warm. 

Turning your head to Kai, you’re startled to find him already looking at you with a glossy look and a mouth that betrays itself to speak its true words that itch his teeth. You wait patiently though but the silence allows the jarring sound of a ringtone to pierce the air and fade the sentence on the tip of Kai’s tongue.  

"I–oh fuck, Yuna’s calling me.” Kai’s voice stutters and your stomach drops into reality once more.  

We get a few years and then it wants us back 

You’re falling once more, drenched in cold water at the way that his fingers leave your touch, how his lips quirk up into a smile that used to be dedicated to you, and how his tears dry up so easily without a hint of anguish. He’s sweet and you’ve always known that he spits out candy compliments that were sickly as sugar, but it stirs a burning sensation deep in your throat.

And maybe it’s not even how he loves her, but how he makes it so that all of it was an act–that you were a complete fool for thinking that he had an ounce of adoration for you or even pity.

He’s the one that kissed you so softly and sweetly first, but he talks as if you were nothing to him like you weren’t the one that he was supposed to be destined for. 

“Hey sweetheart...I’m hanging out with a friend right now.”  

You can’t feel your legs anymore. The bones in your knees have turned into jelly, but you can’t do anything but woefully stare at him with a longing look of gloom. 

“I’ll be back soon, I promise. Hang tight, I’ll make it up tomorrow for Valentine’s Day, how does that sound?” 

Perhaps you’re going to faint because your vision suddenly spins like a carousel. You’ve always found it ironic how you’re born on the day of love and yet you’re going to die because of it. And now you crave to celebrate your birthday extravagantly instead of wallowing in your sorrows as you did in your previous years.

You wouldn’t be too old, would you? To toast a to yourself? 

It would be a hundred times easier If we were young again

But you chuckle at how you’ve been through it all on Valentine’s day; born, lost your other piece, and soon enough die as you choke on the waters of love. You feel the thorns of the red roses that grow in your stomach filled with envy and yearning, cut into your esophagus, releasing ruby red to drip into the pits of your stomach.  

“Good night. I love you.”  

But as it is And it is

You don’t realize that you’re on the ground until Kai cries at you, hurrying by your side as you sew out copious amounts of blood that your body refuses to keep, all the burning endearment that you’ve held to Kai being let out.

“Hey baby, oh god, you’re alright.” His fingers wrap underneath your waist to pull you up, uncaring of the red that splatters his shirt. You feel like you’re on fire, as you scratch at chest for any type of relief, sobs ripping from the bottom of your guts.  

He pecks your cheeks then your nose, and the corner of your mouth before he moves his lips to your forehead. Huening is certainly frantic with his touch and usually, you wouldn’t mind, but you want to squirm.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, alerting you of how much ever time you have left in your life. 30 minutes. "Oh gosh...” You manage to rasp out, crying at how terrified you feel. Kai must’ve sensed the fear that rolls off you in waves because he hugs you as tight as he can.  

He’s an asshole but you can’t help but love him. And it stabs you in the gut. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay” He chants but you shake your throbbing head, trying to get up from the icky floor. “You can’t–you don’t know that!” You wail but Kai doesn’t pay any attention to your protest, gripping your hand so you don’t fall onto the ground again. It takes you a second to not wobble, using his shoulders as support when you close your eyes. He kisses your head again and stays there, swaying.  

“I fucking hate you.”  

Kai doesn’t react. “I’m sorry.” 

“You’re a...a horrible asshole.” You splutter before you grab him by the collar of his shirt and kiss him. He matches your desperation, even as the taste of metal coats his tongue. He pulls away for a second and crawls his hands over to your face, cradling you in his cold palms.

“I want to dance with you. Just one last time.” When he said that before, you weren’t sure if he was serious but as soon as you nod, he rubs his hand down your sides to place on your hips. 

“Just one last time.” You repeat back to him.  

Kai is swift with his feet but not as fast as you. His hands swing with grace, but they don’t beat the way that you make your arms float. Or how you swivel around, flying with charm. You two are in your room, dead at night, but a soft slow song plays its notes. You feel love in the air.

The pads of your boyfriend’s fingers thread against your skin, pressing into your waist. He spins you around, but his eyes never leave your own pair, and he thinks that you look like an angel like this. An angel in his arms–he’s possibly the luckiest boy in this world. He ghosts over your neck before he moves away so he can tug you into him once more.

Kai presses lingering kisses all over you just to hear more of your giggles. And once the song stops singing, leaving a quiet atmosphere in its wake, you trip into your bed. It’s warm next to him, and cozy and you would like to spend anything here next to him for the rest of your life.  

To think that we could stay the same To think that we could stay the same

It’s the same this time around, but his touch on you is cold. Your sneakers squeak on the ground and you’re definitely not poised with your moments, but you wonder if Kai sees you as beautiful as you were in your element when you were younger. You spin and try not to fall, but you trust him to not let you trip over your own torment.

There’s no music this time except for the beating of your heartbeats, one slowing down and the other racing with adrenaline. You both are growing apart as you two did before, not in sync with anything anymore. You kiss his neck and feel the goosebumps that arise.  

The moonlight watches with tears in its eyes and the wind comes to a stop, letting you two soak into each other in peace. The grasshoppers hold their head down in pity and two doves stare into the depths of the lake, hearts aching. And you’re growing weak with each passing moment which Kai can feel in his arms. 

His tears start to plow down his flushed cheeks.  

To think that we could stay the same 

Your vision starts to fade in and out, but you don’t give up, leaning into the boy. He coordinates your arms to place them along his nape, pulling you close. You’re dying and you know it more than ever how life seeps out of the pores of your skin. Yet you feel a sense of tranquility, dancing slowly with the love of your life.  

“I love you.” You whisper, nuzzling into him. You’re trying to calm his breathing down as he sobs. He cries and cries while you slowly mumble sweet nothings into his ear, closing your eyes which he realizes before he slams his lips onto your mouth.

Blood fills your mouth with agony and your lungs wheeze unable to get anything, but you don’t pull away, relishing in his honey mouth. 

“Oh fuck! I’m so sorry. So sorry about–about–Yuna! And everything. I’m such a horrible person.” Kai howls, eyes widening as your arms go limp around him. Your legs give but he keeps you upright against him.  

“Am I just a friend?” You ask. 

He shakes his head wildly. “No!” 

You weakly laugh at him. Your time is up. “Then good. I’m your soulmate. You’ll remember that won’t you?”  

But we're two slow dancers, last ones out 

“I’m so sorry (Y/n)” Kai mumbles, holding out a bouquet of flowers for you to take. “What...what do you mean that you don’t love me anymore?” You say voice cracking in the middle, gently pushing away the flowers in his hands, his eyes falling down to his shoes in shame. His silence says a lot and you take a step back. “Why?”  

“I don’t know. I just don’t feel that spark anymore.”  

You scoff and angrily wipe the tears away from your face. “I’m your soulmate, you just can’t–” 

“I’m so sorry.” He cuts you off, eyebrows dipping down. He still looks so beautiful in your eyes and so you sob. Kai places the flowers by your feet and turns to walk away, opening the doors of the gymnasium to escape into. You feel discarded as you watch him, but you want to throw one more word in before he leaves you to be. There’s a burning sensation in your lungs.  

“You better remember that I’m your fucking soulmate the next time you...you date someone else. Because I know that there will be no one as good as me, no one else that will make you feel like that!” You scream, throat raw. You're hurting everywhere when he whips his head around, tears glinting in his eyes, making you hiss pathetically.  

“I know.”  

When you fall against him, he stumbles onto his legs, your heart-stopping in its glory. A shrill silence follows through before it’s cut by his screams of pain. He feels your death through his veins as the universe spoon-feeds him the truth. His tears feel acidic on his skin but the ones that roll down your cheeks, are more painful than imaginable. His heart tears into two.  

“Happy Valentine’s Day...and birthday, love,” Kai says into your neck, pressing kisses into where you would be able to feel your heartbeat, hoping that they could revive you. 

We're two slow dancers, last ones out 

Kai has never thought much about having a family–except with you. But here he is in the hospital room with his wife, tears running down his face. Yuna thinks that he’s happy, and he believes that too, but he knows that there’s a lingering sense of prickling at his heart.

February 14th holds a special place in his heart for many reasons that thinking too much about brings great pain to him. Yet a baby should drive happiness, no? 

He’s now a father to a wonderous daughter.  

But as he stares at her, he wonders if he’ll actually ever love her. He’s having doubts. He drags his attention to his wife who is not his soulmate but a woman that he loves. But she’s not you. He doesn’t have a family with you, have kids with you...so will he ever harbor great attraction to them. Like he does to their mother, he knows that he doesn’t love her as deeply as he did with you.  

“What should we name her?” His wife asks, staring at his brown hair that got mangled in a mess. 

A name leaves the tip of his mouth, eyes widening before he realizes what he just uttered.  

“(Y/n).” 

She smiles and the deep veins of hatred infiltrate just a little bit deeper. But when the little girl in his arms yawns, he finally cracks. And when he sways with her, just after her mother falls asleep, he dances with love. 

Two slow dancers, last ones out 

It’s alright. He’ll love her forever because he couldn’t do it with you.  

[adracat]

Notrette: The Mother of Abominations, Queen of Heaven and Space

"This is the Mystery of Babylon, the Mother of Abominations, and this is the mystery of her adulteries, for she hath yielded up herself to everything that liveth, and hath become a partaker in its mystery. And because she hath made her self the servant of each, therefore is she become the mistress of all. Not as yet canst thou comprehend her glory.

Beautiful art thou, O Babylon, and desirable, for thou hast given thyself to everything that liveth, and thy weakness hath subdued their strength. For in that union thou didst understand. Therefore art thou called Understanding, O Babylon, Lady of the Night!" — The Vision and the Voice (12th Aethyr)

Thelema is an esoteric and occult philosophy founded by Aleister Crowley. That name may be familiar to those who've read any of my gwitch hermeticism posts. Thelema draws heavily from ancient mythology, among Greek/Egyptian in particular, and the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. Alchemy, astrology, and geomancy are among the crafts they practiced. Thelema asserts following one's True Will is the path to self-realization and fulfillment, gaining the Great Work or Magnum Opus. See my posts here for more on this.

Babalon is the Great Mother. She is Nott and Nuit; the Night. She is the Whore of Babylon that reins the Beast of Revelation. She is the Bride of Chaos, the primal light of the soul and where life began. She is Mother Earth, Gaia, in her most fertile sense. She is Lilith (etymology-'female night being/demon') the fell consort to Samael. Notrette is indicated by her name, derived from Nott the Norse personification of Night, and taken epithet Anesidora (Demeter, Pandora, and Gaia) to be Babalon.

And I believe in one Earth, the Mother of us all, and in one Womb wherein all men are begotten, and wherein they shall rest, Mystery of Mystery, in Her name BABALON— Gnostic creed

We never see her in the show, save one image. What is there speaks plenty to her place as this occult figure. And perhaps her link to Prospera most of all.

Bride of Samael

Prospera is unmistakably the Great Deciever. Her name before Vanadis' fall was Elnora, which means Shining One. The same as Lucifer, the morning star. It matches the name of Dellingr, Nott's husband in norse myth. However, Delling is a red herring and perhaps the slight change in name is intentional. Prospera is the true Satan, who fell from grace and now rebels against God. Considering Dominicus and Delling are both coded with divine authority, this seems to be the point. If Notrette is Anesidora, then Prospera is Phosphoros. In my Prospera analysis, I noted she's bedecked in Hecate symbolism. One of Hecate's epithets is Phosphoros, light-bringer, signifying Hecate, Diana, and Eos/Aurora; goddess of the dawn. Another parallel with Nott's mythic husband. Phosphoros/EOSphoros is the greek name of the morning star. Perseis, another Hecate epithet is synonymous with Perdition. The name Satan took after falling. She has also cast aside her original shining name to be Prospera

The planet Venus is historically 'morning star', one of the wandering stars in astrology, and Elnora is similarly coded with Venus parallel. Consider the sign Pisces, which is Venus and her son Eros fleeing to safety. (The Prologue events) The events of episode 17 onward easily fit Venus' role in the story of Eros and Psyche.

Crowley asserts Babalon and the biblical Scarlet Woman are separate and the latter enacts the will of the former. Prospera wreaking her havoc on Earth and Space is certainly fitting with Aerial as the Beast of Revelation.

So how does this relate to Notrette? Because she is the Bride of Samael/Satan, Lilith, who rebelled against Adam and was banished from the Garden of Eden. As Babalon/Babylon, she is the mother of harlots and revels in adultery. We already know Quiet Zero was her project. She is a gifted geneticist and the only person explicitly fiddling with biometric code... The Mother of Abominations can easily apply to Aerial and replichildren. Something we already suspected, but seems confirmed. She is indeed the Angrboda to Prospera's Loki. After all, in the Tempest Caliban is the child of the Devil and a witch.

Consider fell Lilith, the first wife of man who was formed from the same clay as Adam and unleashed horrors upon humanity. This tale mirrors Pandora, another Anesidora. The first woman in Greek mythology molded by clay who unleashes horrors from her jar. Mothers of Abominations both. Some occultists view Lilith as a former agricultural and fertility goddess like Demeter. Anesidora is Satan's bride, Lilith.

Potnia (Mistress), an epithet of Demeter, can also be taken as indicative of the great Idolatress

Queen Nuit

The highest deity of Thelema is Nuit. She is the naked Great Mother dressed in the stars. She is infinite space and infinite possibilities. They name her Our Lady of the Stars, Queen of Space and Queen of Heaven. Greek Nyx, Norse Nott, and Egyptian Nut are all her names. Her consort is Hadit, the embodiment of causality; '"the flame that burns in every heart of man, and in the core of every star." And causality is the method to which Prospera works her curses upon the cast.

Notrette is metaphorically a queen before her death. Married to psuedo king Delling, she is the G-Witch Queen of Heaven and Space. Her name hard placing her as Nott just drives the point home.

Daughter of Babalon

But casting aside speculation, well-founded as it is imo, let's take a look at her canonical child; Miorine. Thelema also speaks of her and cements Notrette's true identity.

And this palace is nothing but the body of a woman, proud and delicate, and beyond imagination fair. She is like a child of twelve years old. She has very deep eyelids, and long lashes. Her eyes are closed, or nearly closed. It is impossible to say anything about her. She is naked; her whole body is covered with fine gold hairs, that are the electric flames which are the spears of mighty and terrible Angels whose breastplates are the scales of her skin. And the hair of her head, that flows down to her feet, is the very light of God himself. Of all the glories beheld by the Seer in the Aethyrs, there is not one which is worthy to be compared with her littlest finger-nail. For although he may not partake of the Aethyr, without the ceremonial preparations, even the beholding of this Aethyr from afar is like the par taking of all the former Aethyrs.

The Seer is lost in wonder, which is Peace.

And the ring of the horizon above her is a company of glorious Archangels with joined hands, that stand and sing: This is the daughter of BABALON the Beautiful, that she hath borne unto the Father of All. And unto all hath she borne her.

This is the Daughter of the King. This is the Virgin of Eternity. This is she that the Holy One hath wrested from the Giant Time, and the prize of them that have overcome Space. This is she that is set upon the Throne of Understanding. Holy, Holy, Holy is her name, not to be spoken among men. For Kore they have called her, and Malkah, and Betulah, and Persephone.— The Book of Thoth, Aleister Crowley

In the show she is given Kore/Persephone symbolism as explored in my Miorine analysis. As the daughter of a Demeter it felt fitting, but it's now doubly significant. The Hebrew words Malkah and Betulah mean 'Queen' and 'Virgin' respectively.

With this wealth of context, I can't help but wish Notrette made a full appearance. Yet I understand both production meddling and perhaps symbolic intent may have led to her remaining unseen. Babalon is Mystery. And her glory cannot be comprehended.

[cloneloverrrrr]

𝗦𝗮𝘆 𝗚𝗼𝗼𝗱𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁- 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘁 ⠀

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𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚: 𝗠𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁⠀

𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 : 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳𝗳𝗲 𝘅 𝗳!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿, 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘁

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𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 981

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𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗦𝘂𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀, 𝗱𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗺𝗲, 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵 𝗶𝘀𝘀𝘂𝗲𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳, 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁, 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲

This is nothing like I usually post , but I’m struggling at the moment, so writing this was a little escape and has helped lift my mood slightly. This is for anyone who may be suffering with depression or mental health issues, your not alone.

I hope this brings a smile the face of whoever reads it🖤

Dividers by the best @idontgetanysleep

@lune-de-miel-au-paradis @hellhound5925 a big thank you to the both of you for being amazing friends & thank you for always being there 🖤

The burning suffocating ache in your heart is doing it’s upmost engulf your very existence . The pain eats away at you daily , more and more. You are imploding with despair, emptiness, desolation. Tears continue to fall down your face , staining your cheeks, dampening your lips with their salty flavour.

The end is nearly here and there is no more pills to swallow. The bitter taste you feel won’t lead you to tomorrow. You stares dart between the four walls around you and the dark glowing night sky, piece by piece your falling apart breaking. Heaven is waiting for you , you try your best to close your eyes and sleep tight.

Your so consumed entirely in your misery that you do not hear the door swooshing open and the heavy thump of his footsteps creeping up behind you. His beautiful amber and cybernetic eyes weightily gaze over you.

You faintly hear him speak , his deep , rich , gruff voice, a voice you love dearly brings you back down from the oppressive overwhelming pain you are asphyxiating in, if only for a brief moment.

Commander Wolffe places his large gloved hand across your trembling shoulder, holding down firmly. His voice so tender, yet so confused.

“Please don’t cry Mesh’la whatever it is it will be ok…”

A moment seems like a lifetime, finally you break the silence.

“Leave me alone” you hiss , the shame of him seeing you like this is too much for you to bear. You coil into yourself shaking as the sobs take over you once more, the feeling you know all too well, your no longer in control of yourself , your body , your emotions.

Wolffe settles down next to you on the cold floor, his knee touching yours, he watches you wordlessly taking in your sobs, your strained breathing.

He stays silent allowing all of your pain, your hurt , and your confusion to spill out.

“The stars above would be ever so lucky to gain you as another one of their angels, but it is not yet your time. I will bleed with you, if that’s what you want. But ….. this is not your end and you are not alone” his voice is so soft so quiet, it brings a small sense of calm to your situation.

“I am just so tired of it all, pretending to be happy. Forever thinking of the past and where I am now… what I am. I’m nothing, I’m broken, lost and I can’t shake this pain. It’s like there is no breath left inside of me” you whisper between sniffles and cries of anguish.

You keep your head hidden behinds your hands, still too humiliated to look at him, at his face that you cherish deeply. He moves closer to you gently pulling your hands away from your face , the heartbreak within you crumples when you see this battle worn clone look at you with such devotion holding a pain behind his own eyes.

“I am with you, I will be with you till the end and I would sacrifice this galaxy to hold you” he places his hand upon your chest, right on the place of your soul-stirring ache.

A tear suddenly peaks out of the corner of his glowing cybernetic eye before rolling down his cheek, instinctively you softly rub it away with your thumb.

“And I will say this once more your end is not near, you suffer yes and there is a great strength in that but I know you. You are stronger than this, stronger than you’ll ever know, so stay with me ok”

You look him in the eyes before pulling away and turning your back to him letting out a deep sigh.

“Why am I like this” you blurt out, it wasn’t a question for him for you or anyone just something that pours from your mouth, the sobs then come again violently, your whole body shakes, it feels like you can’t breathe your insides are screaming so loudly and the hole in your chest so unbearable. You almost collapse onto the floor but he holds you steady, pulling you into his warm and calming embrace holding you from behind as if you would fade away in front of him if he let go.

His tight hold soon softens the uncontrollable shakes of your torture. You close your eyes and lean back into his touch.

“Every last thing you have endured , you have fought it and you have beaten it , so please do not let your mind make you think any different. You are a fighter. Yes right now you may feel defeated but stars I promise you this pain will go, and one day you will look back and smile. Because fought , you won, and you will have achieved the inner happiness you long for ”

“Is this my last fight Wolffe?” You whimper

“Shhh no… I will forever hold you high and steal away all the pain that burdens you “ he counters softly holding you even tighter.

Wolffe places a feather light kiss to your temple and you feel like your able to continue for another day . You melt into the warmth flowing from his heart and radiating from skin and you feel more alive than ever.

“It’s not time to say goodnight yet cyare” he whispers into the back of your neck

Yes you know the pain is there here and now, and it may take months even years to depart from your soul but it will. You will survive like you have countless times before, because it’s not too late. Some days may be filled with sadness others filled with joy and smiles. It is all part of the journey towards healing.

Tag list: @hellhound5925 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @hello-there-cyarika @maybethatfanfictionwriter @idontgetanysleep @ghostperson69 @justanothersadperson93 @rain-on-kamino @secretthegriffin @clonemedickix @dukeoftheblackstar

[lgbtqmanga]

New Releases Dec. 3, 2024

Comic Party Wonder Love (manga) vol. 1 by Deco Yamano

Raizo and TOS are two men who also write BL in their spare time. Raizo is a cool, laidback and handsome guy whose dark BL style is popular, while TOS has a light and fluffy writing style, but is less popular due to his social awkwardness and difficulty communicating. Even though they are complete opposites in everything, they find themselves inexplicably drawn to one another...

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation: Mo Dao Zu Shi (manhua) vol. 8 by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu with art by Luo Di Cheng Qiu in full color

Using the power of Empathy, Wei Wuxian gazes upon the past, experiencing the tragic story of a deepening rift between brothers. When his soul returns to his body, he immediately rushes to Fragrance Palace together with his companion Lan Wangji, prepared to make bold accusations about the death he’s spent so much time investigating. Yet his efforts go completely awry, and he soon finds himself in the crosshairs of everyone present! In both his past and present lives, the cultivation clans have tried to kill Wei Wuxian over and over again, but he’s no longer alone. This time, he has Lan Wangji, who chases after him without hesitation, fending off his enemies!

Heaven Official's Blessing: Tian Guan Ci Fu Deluxe (novel) vol. 1 by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu with illustrations by ZeldaCW

Features black and white illustrations and character/term guides from the paperback release along with extra embellishments: a new foil illustration on the faux-cloth hardcover, a dust jacket with all-new art and foil lettering, detailed printed edges, and a ribbon bookmark all in this hardcover edition.

Born the crown prince of a prosperous kingdom, Xie Lian was renowned for his beauty, strength, and purity. His years of dedicated study and noble deeds allowed him to ascend to godhood. But those who rise may also fall, and fall he does--cast from the heavens and banished to the world below. Eight hundred years after his mortal life, Xie Lian has ascended to godhood for the third time, angering most of the gods in the process. To repay his debts, he is sent to the Mortal Realm to hunt down violent ghosts and troublemaking spirits who prey on the living. Along his travels, he meets the fascinating and brilliant San Lang, a young man with whom he feels an instant connection. Yet San Lang is clearly more than he appears... What mysteries lie behind that carefree smile?

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun: Erha He Ta De Bai Mao Shizun (novel) vol. 7 by Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou (Meatbun Doesn’t Eat Meat) with illustrations and cover art by St

After failing in their quest to capture the treacherous Xu Shuanglin, Mo Ran and Chu Wanning pursue him to the impenetrable Mount Jiao, accompanied by the noble Nangong Si and the leaders of the cultivation realm’s great sects. There, they find the ancestral tomb of Rufeng Sect transformed into a macabre spectacle under the influence of Xu Shuanglin’s forbidden magic. And their adversary’s work is not done: as Sisheng Peak and their allies fight their way to the top of the mountain, Xu Shuanglin resorts to a powerful and mysterious magic that threatens to tear their world asunder. As the combined forces of the cultivation world race to stop Xu Shuanglin, Mo Ran must finally confront the past he’s been running from since his rebirth. Will Mo Ran lose everything he has gained in this life—including Chu Wanning?

My Hateful Man (light novel) vol. 2 by Yuu Nagira

Even from a young age Hira was an introvert, too nervous to speak up, disappearing into the crowd at his high school. From afar he admires his classmate, Kiyoi, ruling as the king of the class with his handsome looks and his aloof attitude. To him, everyone is equally worthless. With his low self-esteem, Hira is happy to play his part as Kiyoi's loyal gopher, but even he's surprised when he finds Kiyoi's phone number added to his cellphone. Every glance, every scrap of attention is precious. Could these lonely, suffocating feelings actually be love?

No Spicy Romance Allowed! (manga) by Ruku Amato with art by Kuroe Okj

Makoto is as average and ordinary as an omega gets. He’s nothing like Rio, the model du jour he’s been assigned to manage. Rio is charismatic, popular, drop-dead gorgeous, and most importantly, an alpha—everything Makoto can’t stand! Makoto is determined to keep their relationship strictly business, even though Rio seems fixated on winning over his prickly new manager with sweet talk and claims of love at first sight. But when a sudden heat has Makoto riled up on his talent’s bed…how long can he keep saying “no comment” to destiny?!

World's End Blue Bird (manga) vol. 2 by Anji Seina

In a world ruled by a powerful sorcerer who carries with him Prometheus' fire, society is split into two — Twilight City, the slums, and Paradiso, a city of opulence and wealth. After handing Guang over to the mob to save his own life, Ray follows Guang's secret path to Paradiso in hopes of finding others who will help him save Guang before it's too late. Meanwhile, Guang is being held captive by his younger brother who plans to become the new sorcerer of Paradiso — by whatever means necessary.

[danpuff-ao3]

Another May, another Snarry-a-Thon: the best time of year! (Also happens to be my birthday month, which makes it all the more special!) The Snarry community is so full of creative, generous, and supportive folks which always makes for a great event! Plus...more Snarry in the world! :D

This fest has been so meaningful to me over the years, and in celebration of another fest wrapped up, I've compiled a list of some of my favorites! This year had lots of goodies, so make sure to check out the rest of the collection, too!: Snarry-a-Thon 2023 (and the Master List on DW!)

Info: The Want of You, by Ephemeral (@fleetingdesires) Rated: E. Words: 7,337. 8th year. Student/teacher. Clubbing.

Summary:

On his night off, Severus unexpectedly realises that Harry has grown into quite an attractive man. He's just not going to think too hard about it. No, he's not going to think about him at all. It's fine. He's fine. Everything is fine.

Read for: a fun & sexy time.

Quote:

"Merlin, Snape, why was that so hot?" "Because you like breaking rules, and I broke them for the want of you."

Info: My Soul to Keep, by catharticEscapism (@catharticescapism.) Rated: E. Words: 4,027. Fat Harry. Internalized fat phobia. Fat acceptance. Body image & self-esteem. Past child abuse. Bottom!Snape. Fluff & smut.

Summary:

Harry is self-conscious about his weight gain after the war, and Severus reassures him that he’s loved just the way he is.

Read for: heartwarming & wholesome lovemaking.

Quote:

“I have great regard for your body. There is little I enjoy as much as having the opportunity to lay my hands on you.”

Info: Luck of the Draw, by Writcraft (@writcraft.) Rated: E. Words: 11,857. Getting together. Gay bar. Drag queens. Hiking. Minor injuries. Paddington the dog.

Summary:

Severus is enjoying the quiet life when his participation in a Ministry raffle forces him to go on a date with Harry Potter. During a weekend filled with drag queens, hiking, a twisted ankle and a dog named Paddington, Severus begins to wonder if the quiet life is really all it’s cracked up to be.

Read for: humor & fluff

Quote:

Severus has always loved deeply, jealously, greedily. Even if it is utter madness to think of love and Potter in the same breath, now the fire has started Severus knows it is futile to attempt to resist the kind of yearning he believed long since buried.

Info: Nocturne, by NecromanticNoir (@necromanticnoir.) Rated: E. Words: 54,090. Creature fic. Mystery & romance. Fairytale & horror. Angst & feels. Mutual pining. Dark magic.

Summary:

A Gothic Snarry version of ‘Beauty and the Beast’, inspired by the dark and sensual tale from the Czech film version, ‘Panna a Netvor’. I follow some of the plot, but then diverge and do my own thing. Got to make it even weirder, right? An eerie, erotic, brooding, bloody, batty, haunting fairytale.

Read for: erotic fairytales & dark romance.

Quote:

Severus knows he should not watch in secret - but there, through the window - oh, merciful heavens… The young man is bathing, in the large hammered-copper tub, his skin pale as moonbeams. All around the tub, candles burn; a hundred tiny flickering flames. Severus draws closer to the window, mesmerised. The bath water is white, sprinkled with flower petals and herbs of some kind, perhaps rosemary… The water seems to sparkle; the boy bathes in liquid moonshine.  Severus draws nearer still, and he beholds creamy skin - a pale shoulder, like marble. He is watching a rare creature; a unicorn, bathing in pure enchantment…

Info: old fires and phantom limbs, by LilaDiurne (@liladiurne.) Rated: E. Words: 14,514. 2nd person POV + present tense. Severus POV. Minor Harry/OMC. Exes to lovers. Heartache. Angst with a happy ending.

Summary:

A long moment passes. And then he steps out of the shadows of the surrounding shops and into the bright sunlight, walking up to you. "You came back," you say bluntly, unable to look away. "Yeah." He shuffles his feet a bit, slips his hands in his pockets in such a familiar way that a pang of deep fondness strikes through your chest. "Last week," he adds. It seems impossible that he would have been back in the country for days and you wouldn't have sensed it somehow. How could his presence not send shockwaves all the way to Spinner's End? How could you not know, in your heart of hearts, the instant that he returned?

Read for: poetic prose & immense emotion.

Quote:

The passers-by come and go around you, shuffling about on the street this way and that, oblivious to your predicament, your dilemma. They did not feel the earthquake, they did not see your life crumbling. They do not know that your polished countenance is truly in shambles, held together with worn pieces of twine.

Info: Loose Ends, by Arrisha (@arrisha-ao3.) Rated: E. Words: 9,856. Heavy angst. Trauma. Mystery. Romance.

Summary:

I love you, Severus wants to say. But the timing is never right.

Read for: emotional devastation and/or you need to cry and the tears need help.

Quote:

He never doubted that the boy loved him. But something deeper, darker, lurked underneath. Harry was broken. The war had broken him, and Severus was all he had.

~~ BONUS: Shameless Shelf Rec ~~

Info: Devotion, by danpuff. Rated: E. Words: 25,843. Postwar. Background Hinny. Minor Severus/others. Cheating. Mental health issues. Angst. Unhealthy relationship. Ambiguous/open ending.

Summary:

Is there anything more undignified than needing someone so much?

Read for: all of my Snarry feels.

Quote:

The light of him transforms Spinner’s End. In the way of dreams, every wall is familiar and strange. Every book, every shelf in its place. The sofa is still lumpy, the lights still dim. The wallpaper still peels at the edges. The colors are changed. Just a shade off, he thinks. The air is crisp. Sweet and fresh as an apple. Cold and biting as a winter breeze. Harry is the soft warmth of a flickering flame. The heavy heat of a raging inferno. He is the blazing sun. The harsh light beneath which nothing can hide, and nothing survives.

[ancientastarwis]

Pick a Card October Energy

This month the theme is inspired by magical forests of light and healing. Each picture contains tarot messages and oracle guidance that are important for the month of October. You can choose one or more of these pictures. Comment which option you choose and whether it was accurate for your current situation.

For personal tarot and oracle readings, send a private message.

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Reveal...

OPTION 1: GLOWING BUTTERFLY 🦋

October will guide you to take control of your thoughts and reality, both by consciously declaring and choosing what you need, want and deserve; and by consciously choosing to let go of the outdated. It is highly important for you to actively participate in this process, so you can retrieve sovereignity. Doing so will help you gain resilience and determination, which you will need throughout the month. Avoid being too logical and calculating, specially when it comes to success or fitting in. Express gratitude for what you already have and seek emotional independence. Remember that you are free to choose what you wish to do and shouldn’t feel forced by others or by a higher power to do any particular thing.

Freedom: You are free to choose what you do . This card is a gentle reminder that you aren’t a victim of outside circumstances and that you have choices in everything you do. The angels are helping you shift away from complaining that you’re a victim of others who control you. Instead, Heaven is shining the light upon your wise decision to take responsibility for yourself, your life, and your happiness. As you accept the role you’ve played in creating your present circumstances, you feel a corresponding sense of relief and freedom. The insight of self-responsibility frightens some initially, as it seems to carry the weight of blame. The angels help you see that blame is a waste of time because it focuses on past events. Instead, they empower you to envision a bright today and tomorrow for yourself and your loved ones. You have the right to change your life! You needn’t wait for another’s permission to take charge of your destiny. Trust your feelings to guide you towards activities and a career that are meaningful and fulfilling in every way.

OPTION 2: GLOWING WINGS 🪽

October is a month of deep introspection for you. It will guide you to release the fear of generosity and heart-based living, which may come from childhood trauma or social experiences that made you feel as if you had to fit in to survive, rejecting your soul in the process. Superficial behaviors will need to go away too as they cause disharmony and excessive concerns with public image and appereance. The same will occur with outdated beliefs regarding collaboration and relationships, as they cause disharmony and a sense of lack and abandonment in your life. Accepting your soul journey and following your heart will help you make sudden progress and find yourself again.

ARTIST: ENGAGING IN ARTISTIC ACTIVITIES IS BENEFICIAL TO YOUR CAREER AND EVERY OTHER AREA OF YOUR LIFE. Your inner world is colorful and this card is a reminder that your career can be colorful as well! With your artistic eye, you naturally gravitate towards beautiful shades, shapes and objects. Now the angels want to bring artistry into your career field. You will feel more fulfilled with work that helps you express your inner artist. You drew this card because it’s important for you to take action steps as the artist you truly are. If you had unlimited time and money, what type of creative work would you engage in? Your answer to this question indicates a beneficial avenue for you to explore now. In fact, this is precisely what will open up all of your channels so that you experience more support, time and creative energy. So please, take the opportunity to engage in something artistic, such as painting, jewelry making, an art course, sketching, dancing, sewing and so forth. Your finished creation may or may not become the basis of a commercial venture, however, your actions and artistic expression will definitely have a positive effect upon your career and every other area of your life.

OPTION 3: LIGHT SPARKLES ✨

October asks you to connect with your sense of abundance by choosing to see what you have and yourself as enough. It may not be a good moment to make important decisions, but it definitely is a moment to take advantage of what naturally comes your way. It is important to use your power and the tools and opportunities available for everyone’s highest good, instead of solely for your personal benefit. Release the doubts and fears regarding being generous, sharing and giving freely. Consciously choose to let go of the remainders of past painful cycles or situations from your heart and mind. Embody your truth to move forward and start again.

FORTUNE'S WHEEL: LUCK AND RIGHT TIMING. A TURN OF FORTUNE. The Fortune’s Wheel is a sign that luck has found the right timing in your life. You have the magic touch, and everything turns to gold. There is nothing you can do wrong. You only need to hold what you desire as your intention, and it becomes true. Do not waste this power on trifling things—dream big, for surely this opportune moment will pass. Such is the nature of Fortune’s Wheel. Use the creative power of the Fortune’s Wheel for the benefit of others, and the gifts will be returned to you ten fold. Use it only for your own gain, and you will be left impoverished and with the bitter taste of squandered opportunity. Fortune’s Wheel comes unannounced. Notice the early signs, the coincidental encoun­ters, and the seemingly magical and synchro­nous events that herald its arrival. That call, that e-mail, that invitation, that chance encounter was no accident; they all were choreographed by Fortune. Do not wait any longer. Carpe diem! Recall your boldest and noblest longing, and invite it into your life. This invitation is all that is required.

[kimberlychapman]

BREAKING NEWS from the SpaceDad Stories Historical Documents Research Centre! In honour of @SpaceDadSupport on Twitter gaining 1701 followers recently, we are unveiling select pages from Jean-Luc Picard's teenage poetry journal! Images follow, will later be posted to the official SpaceDad Stories page:

More about Marguerite will be revealed in Book Four. Read 1-3 now for free at https://kimberlychapman.com/spacedad/read-the-stories/ which includes links to AO3.

Oh Marguerite Who hath stepped forth from the ancient angel statues Out of the crumbling church into our modern lives Yet an angel still

Oh Marguerite Your hair like the spun gold of legends past Your eyes like direct windows to the blue heavens above Above your tempting little grin

Oh Marguerite Who is no angel because there are no angels Who is no devil because there are no devils Yet pure human beauty

Oh Marguerite If only my tongue would not collapse upon seeing you If only my heart could sing out my truth You'd know I love you.

Sweet, beautiful Désirée Whose very name means desire You must know you have every fellow in town upon his knees

I beg of you Teach me to grovel That I may earn But one kiss

Yes, that's a reference. IYK,YK. :D

To my dear Lucile Whose laughter lights up my soul Whose smile burns through my heart Whose red hair enflames my entire being I would bestow upon thee All of the bonbons I could carry If only to make you glance my way for a moment

Darling Elodie We are called upon to write poetry for class Monsieur has said it must not be romantic We are to evoke natural images But it is in my nature to think only of you If I must describe the wind I will envisage it running through your ebony hair If I must describe a tree I will consider only your strength and comforting shade If I must describe a flower I will imagine only the petal softness of your lips Because my darling What means nature to me Without you amidst it?

Maman understands Papa does not The stars call me The vines can rot

Oof, this one got all of us at the Historical Documents Research Centre tearing up a little.

That's all for this release. We hope you enjoyed this insight into a young Frenchman's romantic angst. Perhaps if the account grows to another amusing Trek number more pages will be released. Otherwise stay tuned for more SpaceDad Stories books, coming as fast as they can be written. (PS more shares/reviews/kudos means faster writing!)

[viilpstick]

╰┈➤ 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞: Oh, this is the night, it's a beautiful night and we call it bella notte. If to take a closer look, not just at the skies, you'll see she have stars in her eyes, laying on the grass with her bicycle on the side. On this lovely bella notte. In a hand forgiviness is normal, in another you have to work for it. Bless sevens, the heavens are right.

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔: Lacy Darling, Twisted Wonderland oc

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Some mention bit of oc x canon, the enemies to lovers type (Lacy is not beastman, sorry), mentions of Lacy going to prison

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: Some angst, informative of new character

𝒂/𝒏: I actually found a site that helped me write SO MUCH of this (Synonyms), so expect my writing to become better over time :)) Actually proud of my writing in this hehe

"I can't believe I am lost again. Excuse me, little one! Do you know how can I get to Night Raven College? Oh, you know just the way? With a short cut? Splendid!"

𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅: Never doubt yourself, but doubt the others, even if you are side by side your love one. And his dishonesty has to speak louder than anything else.

Lacy Darling was born into a wealth family in Shaftlands, her upbringing marked by a strong sense of community and a simple, humble lifestyle. From a young age, Lacy displayed an insatiable curiosity, always eager to learn, explore, and understand the world around her. Her heart overflowed with kindness, and she was known for her unwavering loyalty to those she cared about.

Also, with the great energy she had, and being the only daughter, through her childhood she had all the attention of the whole world. Even so, she can't be mistaken as someone who wanted it all, she was well educated to be simple and modest.

Throughout her teenage years, Lacy studied in Night Raven College, as a way to expand her knowledge for the magic.

However, there was a nuanced prejudice within Lacy that she struggled with. Despite her open-mindedness, she occasionally held unfounded biases, rooted in preconceived notions. Lacy's life took a dramatic turn when she was ensnared in a web of a dishonest guy orchestrated by someone she had dear hold, even to say, she actually feel for him. This betrayal led her to make a series of unfortunate choices that ultimately landed her in prison, by no fault of hers.

Upon her release, thanks to a teacher she might even said she used to fear, Lacy emerged as an even more intriguing and evolving individual. Her heart remained full of kindness and her curiosity unabated. The hardships she endured had added a layer of strength to her character, and her occasional glimpses of courage now shone brighter than ever. However, to gain her trust or forgiviness to this days is a hard task most people fail.

𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚: She just can't understand, it must be something wonderful, it must be something grand 'cause everybody's smiling in a kind and wistful way, then why do She tend to keep my thoughts to herself instead of facing her mistakes

This sweet young woman is someone of intriguing complexity, known for her timid and naive disposition. She possesses a gentle and unassuming nature, which makes her an exceptional friend to those fortunate enough to know her.

Her loyalty to her family is unwavering, and she consistently demonstrates a deep commitment to their well-being.

Lacy's gracious side is a full commitment to a kindheart and sympathetic soul, whatsoever, while her timid nature might suggest vulnerability, she surprises many by revealing a hidden reservoir of courage and protectiveness when the situation demands it, specially when it comes to people she deeply care about. In times of adversity, she can rise to the occasion, showcasing her resilience and determination.

Lacy's personality exhibits a fascinating duality. On one hand, she exudes an air of modesty, always extending kindness and curiosity towards others. Yet, there is a hint of cockiness in her attitude, occasionally manifesting as a self-assured demeanor that she's not afraid to display. Her confidence, although not overwhelming, serves as a testament to her, may as well say, once she doesn't like someone by any act they might've done to irritate or hurt her, she will act stubborn and imposible to get forgiviness from.

One notable aspect of Lacy's flaw is her somewhat prejudiced view towards people from a different class of her, this might due the fact she once went to prison, thanks to a certain somoene from Playful Land, awhile she tried to help them. This prejudice, though a minor deffect, suggests a certain guardedness and wariness when it comes to individuals from distant backgrounds. Over time, she may learn to overcome or soften as she continues to grow and develop, it depends on how inflexible both of parties are.

In summary, Lacy is a varied character, a humble and sincere soul with a heart full of kindness, curiosity, and loyalty. Lacy's growth as a character includes occasional glimpses of courage, a touch of cockiness, and a nuanced prejudice, making her a truly intriguing and evolving individual.

𝑨𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆: You'll find enchantment here, the night will weave its magic spell, in her eyes you'll see the glint of skies.

For someone like Lacy, complex clothing are never an exaggeration. With a knee length circle skirt with a caramel shade, and a pastel yellow shade blouse. A teal bow as belt in her figure, to top up with everything, a small gold chain in a crystal format.

Her make up emphasized a natural, yet polished look. This included a light foundation, soft blush, defined eyebrows, and really light red lipstick.

Her skin is well said to be in a warm undertone. Her is a slight short bangs with the hair length touching the shoulders and slight wavy and with the color being a carnaby cooper red, all of that matching perfectly her brown eyes.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑: And may love be your keeper, close your eyes, trust the unreliable. But, remember in any second you can open your eyes to see the clear truth.

Rook Hunt: Although, not fully confirmed, Rook and Lacy are distant relatives. And by that, he always was grown found in a fashion lifestyle. Lacy mentions the fact she is quite confused by Rook's mannerism, but, think in general he is a funny silly guy.

Ruggie Bucchi: However, is said early that Lacy has always suspicious over people too far from her lifestyle. She's really kind to Ruggie, and from time to time, likes to give him simple jobs in exchange of a great quantity of money for him. He does unintentional help her face her past shadows.

Dire Crowley: Never shown why exactly, but, Crowley dislikes Lacy deeply, vice versa. Both had things in the past they never brought up again. However, it is a fact they don't want to see each other's face no longer.

Fellow Honest: Crowley still was the tip of iceberg, what, and how, Lacy acts around Fellow is way more noticeable hatred. It's pointed out, that Fellow got this sweet Lady, when she was younger, involved in inumerous problems awhile she tried to be closer to him, as something between friend and more. Yet, once she had to go to prison by his little rebellious acts, she went from sweet to bitter in a heart beat, once they saw each other again, Lacy acts as if no nearly close to forgive him. Even so, Fellow outside shows a bit of regret, inside he almost corrupts himself for actually doing such a mess. In a way or another, he does hope Lacy will give him a second chance.

Crewel Divus: Both dog lovers go way back in NRC, when they were in Pomefiore. According to Crewel, their first interaction when both got kicked out of Trein's class by a discussion of what dog breed was better. Whatsoever, during time, both had became good friends, the big brother and younger sister alike duo went never out of style since then.

Mozus Trein: Even with some down falls, Mister Trein used to adore Lacy as a student. Lacy as a student, whatsoever, used to deeply fear Mister Trein, yet, have deep respect. Things changed when Trein payed for her finance when she went to prison, he didn't blame her the slightest bit, specially when he knew Lacy's innocence. It is common, stated by Rook, seeing Trein in his break, along side Lucius, visit Lacy for a cup of tea.

𝑻𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒂: At the end, all ends well when it is well.

Lacy is inspired on Lady from "Lady and the Tramp" (funfact about it: Lady's va name was also Barbara-- i found it cute, let me life with it)

Signature spell: Dedicated energy, with some notes of a lullaby, Lacy is capable of absorbing other energy to use as her a running boost, targets may even fall asleep with so much absorption

Lacy meaning: from Lassy; Young woman. Lacy is a feminine name of French origin. Lassy was a beautiful historical region in France that was home for many noblemen

Her style is inspired in the style of 1950 women's fashion, the year the movie came out

28 years old, born in July 1st

Lacy's dominant hand is right

Fav. drink + food: Caramel coffee, croissants.

Least fav. drink + food: Orange juice, crab.

Hobbies: Cycling, picking flowers

Pet peeves: Dishonesty

Likes: Picnics

Talent: Fast thinker

DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST IN OTHER MEDIA MY WORK viilpstick © copyright 2023

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

13th October >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Twenty Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)

(Liturgical Colour: Green. Year: B(II))

First Reading Wisdom 7:7-11 I esteemed Wisdom more than sceptres or thrones.

I prayed, and understanding was given me; I entreated, and the spirit of Wisdom came to me. I esteemed her more than sceptres and thrones; compared with her, I held riches as nothing. I reckoned no priceless stone to be her peer, for compared with her, all gold is a pinch of sand, and beside her silver ranks as mud. I loved her more than health or beauty, preferred her to the light, since her radiance never sleeps. In her company all good things came to me, at her hands riches not to be numbered.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 89(90):12-17

R/ Fill us with your love so that we may rejoice.

Make us know the shortness of our life that we may gain wisdom of heart. Lord, relent! Is your anger for ever? Show pity to your servants.

R/ Fill us with your love so that we may rejoice.

In the morning, fill us with your love; we shall exult and rejoice all our days. Give us joy to balance our affliction for the years when we knew misfortune.

R/ Fill us with your love so that we may rejoice.

Show forth your work to your servants; let your glory shine on their children. Let the favour of the Lord be upon us: give success to the work of our hands.

R/ Fill us with your love so that we may rejoice.

Second Reading Hebrews 4:12-13 The word of God cuts more finely than a double-edged sword.

The word of God is something alive and active: it cuts like any double-edged sword but more finely: it can slip through the place where the soul is divided from the spirit, or joints from the marrow; it can judge the secret emotions and thoughts. No created thing can hide from him; everything is uncovered and open to the eyes of the one to whom we must give account of ourselves.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Gospel Acclamation Matthew 11:25

Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed are you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for revealing the mysteries of the kingdom to mere children. Alleluia!

Or: Matthew 5:3

Alleluia, alleluia! How happy are the poor in spirit: theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Alleluia!

Gospel Mark 10:17-30 Give everything you own to the poor, and follow me.

Jesus was setting out on a journey when a man ran up, knelt before him and put this question to him, ‘Good master, what must I do to inherit eternal life?’ Jesus said to him, ‘Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. You know the commandments: You must not kill; You must not commit adultery; You must not steal; You must not bring false witness; You must not defraud; Honour your father and mother.’ And he said to him, ‘Master, I have kept all these from my earliest days.’ Jesus looked steadily at him and loved him, and he said, ‘There is one thing you lack. Go and sell everything you own and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.’ But his face fell at these words and he went away sad, for he was a man of great wealth. Jesus looked round and said to his disciples, ‘How hard it is for those who have riches to enter the kingdom of God!’ The disciples were astounded by these words, but Jesus insisted, ‘My children,’ he said to them ‘how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.’ They were more astonished than ever. ‘In that case’ they said to one another ‘who can be saved?’ Jesus gazed at them. ‘For men’ he said ‘it is impossible, but not for God: because everything is possible for God.’ Peter took this up. ‘What about us?’ he asked him. ‘We have left everything and followed you.’ Jesus said, ‘I tell you solemnly, there is no one who has left house, brothers, sisters, father, children or land for my sake and for the sake of the gospel who will not be repaid a hundred times over, houses, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and land – not without persecutions – now in this present time and, in the world to come, eternal life.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[les-gnossiennes-fantomatiques]

Ten First Lines Game

Rules: Share the first line of ten of your most recent fanfics and then tag ten people. Don't have ten? Not to worry, just share what you have.

Thanks for the tags @emotionalmotionsicknessxx and @catcorsair <3

The Fly Agaric

(Erik/Christine, Rated M. Leroux-based. Post-canon angst, smut, and fee-fees.)

The simple explanation, or, at least, as simple as an answer one could distill from such madness: Erik clung to Christine like that because he was clinging to the very idea of life itself. The moment he coiled those bone-licked hands of his into the threads of her skirt was the moment he finally managed to wrap his soul around Christine’s very own.

All Imaginable Pangs

(Erik/OC, Rated M. Leroux-based. Pre-canon angst, smut, and art.)

Augustine had tasted so many pleasures in her little life—the love and respect of men born to stations high above her, the sweet sting of champagne upon her tongue, the most beautiful vistas Europe had to offer to those with enough money to spare. But as her maid welcomed her into the vestibule of the charming quarters she kept on Rue Oberkampf, she was reminded yet again of what she treasured more than anything else: her loneliness.

Le Phénomène

(Erik/Christine, Rated M. Leroux-based AU. Fluff, smut, and misunderstandings!)

It was the sort of July night where sweat and vapor mingled so heavily in the air that one could not tell where skin ended and the night began—the sort of humidity that ruined hair and silk and any appetite for labor. The sort of heat that chased millionaire and milliner alike out of their homes, for want of distraction and respite, forcing all to collide against one another until that great heap of Paris was nothing more than a thrumming mass of mischief.

Between the Lines

(Erik/Christine, Rated M. Leroux-based. Angst, BDSM, and flirtations with Dead Dove Do Eat territory.)

The most remarkable aspect of Christine’s captivity was how utterly unremarkable it had been. The immensely peculiar circumstances of her abduction, which had left her with a little more than a miasma of resentment, anger, and pity, had faded into something that almost resembled a normal waking life. For a man who swore to lay heaven and earth at her feet, who had cloaked the initial months of their relationship in the most absurd deceit and mystery, Erik had been a downright mundane captor.

The Follies

(Erik, All Ages. Leroux-based crossover with the Stephen Sondheim musical Sunday in the Park with George. Post-canon fee-fees and lots of hope.)

The monster was bored.

The so-called Palais Garnier was long finished, and President MacMahon’s clique of ministers and prefects were more than happy to have finally wiped their hands of the project’s costly nature, content to descend from on high every few years to gift the company with an endowment from their vast coffers; to think of how the management balked at a mere 20,000 francs!

All That is Solid Melts into Air

(Erik/Christine, All Ages. Leroux-based modern AU where Erik is reincarnated as one of those inflatable tube men. It is the dumbest thing I have ever written.)

From the moment he first gained consciousness, pain and derision was all the monster knew. The hooting of children and idiots. Being forced to sleep outside in all manner of weather, barring a hurricane warning or a flash flood. The constant barrage of rocks and pebbles and trash that rained down upon him; he’d once been pelted in the face by a Slurpee cup so hard that, had he a nose, he was sure it would have shattered to smithereens on impact. It was better, he supposed, than the used diaper that took out one of his comrades earlier that winter. The thought of that particular disaster made the monster shake with fear, moreso than usual.

Tagging @ladystormcrow @box5intern @shinyfire-0 @ashadeintheshade @lincolnlogger @phannah--montana @paperandsong @flora-gray and anyone who wants to join in. My apologies for any double-tagging!

[wytchsbrew]

The first five months of Vash's pregnancy were a breeze.

Wolfwood spent the entire time thanking his lucky stars that his partner was having a wonderful time; he's glowing, he's happy, he's gaining weight, he finally had a little bump that he could touch, and everywhere they go, Vash was the first to happily tell everyone he was expecting their first child.

Wolfwood is in Heaven.

Then, month six hits, and something happens.

His bump becomes more prominent, he's feeling heavier, his hormones start going haywire, and Wolfwood sits at the forefront of the battlegrounds of his husband's war.

Vash's back hurts. Vash cries at the drop of a hat. Vash sometimes get grumpy and snappy in situations that never bothered him before. He felt uncomfortable, and didn't want Wolfwood to feel him up the way he'd been doing for quite a long time, and he was not interested in sex or anything of the like.

Of course, Wolfwood willingly did what he asked and gave him space, staying away from him when he didn't want Wolfwood all up on him, which was incredibly hard because month six looked so fucking good on Vash.

Never had another soul in the universe looked as breathtaking and attractive as his pregnant partner. His dark hair had grown longer, hanging over his forehead so he had to tuck it behind his ear, or pull it into a ponytail when he worked on something. A noticeable baby bump stretched the comfortable sweaters he chose to wear at all times during this slightly cooler season, housing Wolfwood's child. The glow of pregnancy visible to all who looked at him. The golden ring glinting on his left finger.

Basically, Wolfwood felt forced to watch his dream walk around, and never mention the insane things it did to him. It took everything in Wolfwood to not touch him, but, even moreso, it took everything in him to not beg him to simply feel better. He despised seeing him so miserable, and he wanted to remind him that everything is okay. They have everything they need, a beautiful home, each other, they are no longer fighting to survive, but...

A couple days prior, Wolfwood had caught wind of Vash's conversation with their neighbor as he took out the trash. He hadn't caught the first part of the conversation, but he heard Vash's soft voice as he eavesdropped.

"I feel unappreciated. I feel ugly. I feel miserable."

And that had caught Wolfwood so off guard, because... he thought he'd been a great husband thus far! He thought he'd done everything that was necessary of him. He'd run off right after that, radioing his friends in a panic.

That was how he ended up sitting at what equated to an interrogation room, surrounded by all the women in his life staring at him with near glowing, animalistic eyes, as he told them these exact thoughts.

And he wanted the ground to open up beneath him and eat him whole.

Because he'd had the audacity to ask, "Should I just... should I tell him everything is okay???"

"If you tell him that, I will break your face," Meryl said.

"You know I did not raise you that way, Nicholas," Melanie shook her head, looking so disappointed.

"You have no idea what his hormones are doing right now," Milly pointed out, popping a piece of bread into her mouth.

So, the consensus was, yes, he sucked as a husband, and a future father, and perhaps he should go back on the run rather than settle down in his home.

Lowering his head in shame, he whispered, "Okay, but what should I do? I want him to know he's loved, I don't want him to be miserable, I-" He clunked his head against the tabletop, wrapping his forearms around his face, a sadness he'd never experienced filling him until it overflowed all over the entire room.

This next part would be easier to say if the girls weren't staring him down.

"I just want Vash to know how much this means to me, how much he means to me," he whispered, staring at Melanie's tabletop. "I never thought I'd have this. I thought I'd die before I got to have a baby, or a husband, or anything, and... I get so overwhelmed with love when I just look at Vash, I don't know what to do-"

Arms immediately came curling around his body, pulling him close and hugging him tight. He recognized all of their touches. Milly's, strong on his body. Melanie's hands on the top of his head. Meryl, sitting on one of his legs and laying his forehead against his temple.

Slowly, he lifted his head from the table, and peered around at the women he loved so much.

"What do you think I should do?" he whispered. "I don't wanna fuck this up. I can't lose Vash. I can't lose my daughter."

The girls, then, all glanced at each other, mulled it over, and all of them, himself included, grabbed a piece of bread from the middle of the table, and ate in silence.

"Perhaps," Milly finally spoke up, "you should give Vash an entire, romantic day. Do all his favorite things. Make him feel so loved."

"Perfect!" Meryl snapped her fingers. "Yes! Then, when he's feeling good and happy, you can broach the subject of why he's been upset. Maybe it's something you can talk about with him!"

So, Wolfwood went home feeling a little more confused than before, but pointed in a direction. The girls were right, he had no idea what it's like to be pregnant, what Vash is going through emotionally.

Wolfwood knew one thing:

He wanted his pregnant husband to feel as perfect as Wolfwood thought he was, wanted him to feel appreciated, wanted him to feel loved. He set about his plan when Vash went out for the day with the girls - also part of his plan, of course.

He set forth everything. He cleaned the house. He went into town and bought Vash a brand new, big, fluffy cardigan, and sprayed it with Wolfwood's cologne - Vash's favorite smell. He picked up Vash's favorite local doughnuts. On the way home, he picked some random No Man's Land plants and flowers, and created a really strange bouquet.

He bought a big sign for their baby's nursery, too, and the store wood burned their baby's name into the pink sign: Livi Saverem Wolfwood. He hung it above the beautiful, brand new pink bassinet Melanie slipped to him before he'd left her house. Vash hadn't seen it yet.

He lit candles along the entryway, leading into the dining room, where Wolfwood cooked Vash's favorite meal, set it out on plates at their table, lit more candles, placed the flowers in the middle of the table.

And stepped toward the front door just as Vash was arriving back home.

Vash looked surprised to see him as he opened the door, looking beautiful in a big sweater that showed off his baby bump, and tight jeans that showed off the expanse of hips and ass that had grown during the pregnancy. His bright eyes glanced down at the cardigan in Wolfwood's hand, and then at the candles at their feet.

"Hey," Vash greeted, smiling bright, closing the door behind him. "What's going on here?"

"I have a few surprises for you." Wolfwood gathered him up in a quick, chaste kiss, relishing in the brief taste of him, before draping the cardigan over his body.

Vash snuggled into it and gave it a big whiff. "Ohhhh, it smells like you, I love it."

Wolfwood rightly ignored the way that made his heart feel, and instead, took his husband's hand and led him into the dining room. Vash immediately began touching the flowers, looking on the verge of tears as he lowered himself down at the table in front of his plate.

"Oh, Wolfwood," he whispered. "What is all this for?"

Wolfwood sat down in his own spot, and reached his hand across the table. Vash took it without hesitation, and he squeezed. "Just something for you, beautiful. Now, tell me all about your day."

Vash did. As they ate together, he talked happily about his time with the girls, all the while, pulling his cardigan closer around his body, and Wolfwood watched him. He never even looked at his own plate, eating blindly, unable to look at anything but his own breathtaking husband.

When they neared the end of their meal, Wolfwood pointed out the pile of Vash's favorite doughnuts, before taking his hand, and telling him, "I have one last surprise for you upstairs."

The second he opened the nursery door, Vash burst into tears, hands flying up to his mouth as he rushed over to the bassinet. Wolfwood watched him take it all in, watched his face lift up to the sign, where he just stared at it, one hand on his stomach, one hand over his mouth.

He stared for a long while, tears along his beautiful cheeks.

He stared so long, in fact, that Wolfwood began worrying perhaps he'd spelled something wrong, or maybe it didn't look as wonderful as he thought it did.

Slowly, he reached a hand out to his husband's shoulder. "Do you... do you like it?"

Vash glanced over his shoulder, watery blue eyes meeting his gaze. "That's our baby," he whispered. "It didn't feel real until just now, but that's... this is where our baby is going to sleep."

"Yeah." Wolfwood's body sagged with relief, and he couldn't help himself. He pulled Vash into a hug, curling his arms around him. "Thank fucking God you like it."

Vash peered up at him, suspicion curling in his gaze. "What's all this about, Nico? Is something going on?"

"Uhhh." Wolfwood swallowed hard. "Uhhh, well... I heard... what you said the other day, to our neighbor."

Vash tilted his head. "Hmm?"

"You told her you feel unappreciated and miserable and ugly," Wolfwood reminded him. "I've been obsessing over it ever since. I wanted to make you feel better."

Vash stared at him for a long while, brow furrowed, before a big smile spread across his face and he let out a high pitched, hysterical laugh. Right in Wolfwood's face. He laughed so hard, his baby bump lurched and pressed into Wolfwood's body, his chest heaved, his cheeks pinked.

He looked adorable.

It terrified Wolfwood.

Had he done something wrong again?

When the laughs finally died down, Vash curled his hands around Wolfwood's face and held him still. "Oh, my sweet, sweet Nico. My big, brave Wolfwood. My beloved," he sappily whispered. "You are the biggest idiot I know."

"Yes," Wolfwood slowly whispered, nodding. "But why am I an idiot right now?"

"You didn't catch the rest of that conversation," Vash leaned in close, body pressing hard against him. Closer than he'd clung to him in a couple weeks. "You see, she asked if I was handling my hormones well, and I told her no. That my brain was playing tricks on me."

Vash's finger began slowly moving swirls along the front of Wolfwood's chest.

"That I feel unappreciated, ugly, and miserable, when I shouldn't feel that way at all." His voice had dropped into something... else. Seductive. Hot. White hot. "I shouldn't feel that way at all, and she asked why, so I told her the truth."

Vash leaned up, and pressed a kiss to the corner of Wolfwood's mouth.

"I shouldn't feel unappreciated, because my husband does so much for me, and worships the ground I walk on."

Vash kissed his cheek.

"I shouldn't feel miserable, because I am the happiest man in the entire universe, that has ever lived, ever, just by waking up and seeing my husband naked in the kitchen."

Vash kissed the tip of his nose.

"I shouldn't feel ugly, because my husband has a huge dick that's constantly hard just for me. Isn't that right?"

One cool hand slotted along the erection pressing large against the crotch of his jeans. Wolfwood hissed, pressing his lips together - he hadn't felt Vash's hands on him in two weeks now - longer than they'd ever gone before.

He gulped, not wanting to say or do anything out of bounds for Vash's bodily comfort.

"That's right," he heard himself whisper tightly.

"So you did all of this just for me," Vash whispered. "Just to make me feel loved, hmm?"

Wolfwood nodded, his mouth as dry as the desert planet outside their windows.

"Well," Vash grinned. "I think you might have a little crush on me, Nicholas Wolfwood."

The hand on his dick now slowly moved back and forth, massaging and rubbing, cupping his balls in a tight grip Vash knew he loved. He felt his entire body trembling, growing near an orgasm within seconds.

Good, God. He'd never wanted his husband more, and it felt wrong, standing in the bright pink of their daughter's nursery, but...

"Vash," Wolfwood whispered, tightly, hand reaching down to grab at his moving hand. "I... I really want to fuck you so hard right now, but if you aren't comfortable with that, please let me know so I can go outside and chew through some wood."

The look on Vash's face screamed of heat and amusement. "Yes, I am more than comfortable with that. Wolfwood, please-"

Please. Please, he said like he was begging.

If possible, his dick somehow ached harder than before. Fuck, he couldn't wait a single second longer. He needed this - perhaps they both did.

Wolfwood picked Vash up off the ground, and turned them quickly, dropping his full weight on top of the heavy, wooden changing table Milly gifted them. Sorry, Milly, he thought, as he grabbed the comfortable, cotton pants Vash had been wearing lately, and ripped them clean in half at the crotch.

Exposing a dripping wet, red, swollen cunt just for him.

He unhooked his pants and grabbed his dick as record speed.

Wolfwood leaned forward, and gently slotted his inner elbows into the crooks underneath Vash's knees, spreading him wide, giving him ample room to shuffle forward, as Vash pushed himself closer to the edge of the table in tandem.

Their mouth met first in a heated crash and a vicious moan ripping from his own chest, and he fumbled fast, reaching between them to line up his thick, achingly hard cock with Vash's awaiting, soaking wet hole. Arms shaking with self control, he eased himself forward, into his body, the crown popping passed his entrance. The tightness almost whited out his vision, but he sucked on his teeth and continued sinking his thick length into a feeling and heat he could not describe in any of the words he'd been taught in his entire life.

And Vash lost it, his body writhed against the table, one leg clamping hard against his arm, desperate, huffing noises and moans and whispers of his name filling the quiet of the bedroom around them.

Absolutely downright enchanted, he broke away from the kiss and shoved himself the rest of the way, deep inside Vash's glorious pussy, lost and drunk in the feeling of his husband at long last. And he let himself see him fully beneath him.

His dark hair falling over his face messily did not hide the low lidded, eyelash lined bedroom eyes, nor the parted, swollen lips, forming his name over and over again in soft little mewls.

Vash had pulled his shirt up in their movement, too, revealing his stomach and his slightly softer breasts, swollen nipples. Things Wolfwood wanted to suck and grab and touch and worship.

He reached a hand out and closed it around one of those breasts, threading his nipple between his pointer and middle finger. It felt soft and plump beneath his hand, good.

Raving ecstasy smacked him faster than he expected, and he found himself unable to do anything - he slammed into him at a sickeningly steady, rough pace.

His cock thrust into him, pulling out and pushing back in completely, and he pulsed and warmed and tightened around him with every single thrust. Vash's moans seemed to reach a crescendo when he scooted forward ever so slightly, lifting his hips to make more room, and the head of his thick shaft knocked into something deep within him, that little place that made Vash scream his name.

"Fuck!" he cried. "Don't stop! I'm so-"

He slammed back into him with desperation. His full cock grew heavier, larger, the walls of his husband's core straining to accommodate his size, the crown slapping harshly against the glorious spot in a steady, unyielding rhythm.

Vash's shouts and moans were loud enough that there was no way the rest of the neighbors couldn't hear him, but he could not care at all, because his mind was only focused on one thing:

What he'd told the girls.

The amazement that this was his life now.

Sex with his pregnant husband, while they stood in their daughter's sweet, pink nursery, filled with gifts from their best friends, whom already loved their baby more than anything. In their home, their comfortable, safe home, filled with food and furniture and pictures and mementos.

If he could go back in time...

If he could find that little boy, sad and alone, in the clutches of the Eye of Michael, thinking of how he'd never have a future, he'd tell him about this.

He'd tell them how everything would one day be okay, and the wait for this would be far more worth it than he could imagine. He knew his child self would never believe it, but something about telling him healed a part of Wolfwood he hadn't known was broken.

How had that little boy, turned grown murderer, gotten so lucky to be looking down at his half naked husband and listen to cries of his name, because of how much he loved being with him like this?

Something about that tipped him over the edge.

He leaned in to catch Vash's gaping mouth as he felt the orgasm hit him before he could stall it, slamming deep into Vash and pulsing hot seed deep inside him.

Fuck.

"Shit, shit," he mumbled against his mouth. "Sorry, that was... way faster than I wanted-"

"That's okay." Vash pulled away to look up at him, looking happy and glowing. "Why don't you just go down on me for an hour, and we'll call it even, handsome? Since this is a day all about me, right?"

Wolfwood rolled his eyes, but dropped to his knees immediately, spreading Vash's thighs and watching the alluring sight of his cum dripping from that swollen cunt.

It looked delicious.

"How about two hours? You know, just to be fair."