#in which he has his angel form that he presents that’s very beautiful

[gothsuguru]

prev rb i don’t think op understands the psychic damage they did to me (affectionate) that post is gonna live inside my brain like a parasite i’m gonna think about it for AGES

[joycrispy]

One thing I love about Crowley --never stated, but consistently shown-- is that he is, at heart, an engineer.

I have a few different things to say about that. Let's unpack them.

As the Unnamed Angel, we see his designs for the Pillars of Creation are millions of pages long, comprised of cramped text, footnotes, diagrams, schematics, etc. It's very...Renaissance polymath, in the way it implies a particular intersection of artist and inventor.

Also: in the naked romanticism with which he views his stars.

We already knew he made stars, but in s2 we learn that he did NOT sculpt each of them by hand. He designed a nebula ("a star factory," he says) that will form several thousand young stars and proto-planets, and all --aside from getting the 'factory' running-- without him lifting a finger. We also learn that these young stars and proto-planets stand in contrast to those made by other angels, which are going to come 'pre-aged.'

...I'm reminded of Hastur and Ligur's approach to temptations. Damning one human soul at a time, devoting singular attention to it over the course of years or decades, and how that stands in contrast to Crowley's reliance on, quote, 'knock-on effects.'

Ligur: It's not exactly...craftsmanship. Crowley: Head office don't seem to mind. They love me down there.

Hm.

I'm also reminded of the M25.

The M25 may not be as grand as a nebula (sentences you only say in GOmens fandom...), but LIKE his nebula it's an intricate, self-sustaining engine that does Crowley's work for him, many times over. Again.

That's some pretty neat characterization --and so is the indication towards Crowley's disinterest in victimizing anyone tempting individual people. It takes a considerable amount of planning and effort (and creeping about in wellies), but in accordance with his design the M25 generates a constant stream of low-grade evil on a gigantic scale.

Cumulatively gigantic, that is. Individually? Negligible.

But no other demon understands human nature well enough to parse that one million ticked-off motorists are not, in any meaningful way, actually equivalent to one dictator, or one mass-murderer, or even one little influential regressive. That's the trick of it. Crowley gets Hell's approval (which he NEEDS to survive, and to maintain the degree of freedom he's eked out for himself), and at the same time ensures that any actual ~Evil Influence~ is spread nice and thin.

It's some clever machinery. And he knows it, too:

The Unnamed Angel and Crowley are both proud of their ideas.

(musings on professional pride, Leonardo da Vinci, the crank handle, and 'the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale' under the cut)

In the 1970's Crowley gives a presentation on the M25, projector and all, to a room full of increasingly impatient demons. Maybe the presentation was work-ordered; the 'can I hear a WAHOO?' definitely wasn't.

Before the Beginning, the Unnamed Angel can barely contain his excitement about his nebula. Aziraphale manages a baffled-but-polite, "....That's nice... :)"

11 years ago, Hastur and Ligur want to 'tell the deeds of the day,' and Crowley smiles to himself because (according to the script-book) he knows he has 'the best one.'

(Naturally, his 'deed' has nothing to do with tempting anybody, and everything to do with setting up a human-powered Rube-Goldberg machine of petty annoyance. Oodles of 'Evil' generated; very little harm done.)

Hastur and Ligur don't get it, of course. That's also consistent.

Nobody ever knows what the hell he's talking about.

It didn't make it on-screen, but, in both the novel AND the script-book, Crowley was friends with Leonardo da Vinci. The quintessential Renaissance polymath. That's where he got his drawing of the Mona Lisa --they're getting very drunk together, and Crowley picks up the 'most beautiful' of the preliminary sketches. He wants to buy it. Leonardo agrees almost off-the-cuff, very casual, because they're friends, and because he has bigger fish to fry than haggling over a doodle:

He goes, "Now, explain this helicopter thingie again, will you?" Because he's an engineer, too.

(It is 1519 at the latest, in this scene. Why the FUCK would Crowley know about helicopters, and be able to explain them, comprehensively, to Leonardo da Vinci?

...Well. I choose to believe he got bored one day and worked it out. Look, if you know how to build a nebula, you can probably handle aerodynamics. And anyway, I think it's telling that this is his idea of shooting the shit. 'A drunken mind speaks a sober heart,' and all. He probably babbled about Aziraphale long enough to make poor Leo sick)

Apart from Aziraphale, Leonardo da Vinci is the only person Crowley has any keepsakes or mementos of.

Think about that, though. Aziraphale's bookshop is bursting with letters, paintings, busts, and personalized signatures memorializing all the humans he's known and befriended over 6000 years (indeed: Aziraphale has living human friends up and down Whickber Street. He's part of a community).

Crowley doesn't have any of that. It's just the stone albatross from the Church (for pining), the infamous gay sex statue (for spicy pining), the houseplants (for roleplaying his deepest trauma over and over, as one does), and this one piece of artwork, inscribed, "To my friend Anthony from your friend Leo da V."

To me, at least, that suggests a level of attachment that seems to be rare for Crowley.

...Maybe he liked having someone to talk shop with? Someone who was interested? Someone engaged enough to ask questions when they didn't immediately understand?

...Anyway.

There's also the matter of the crank handle.

This thing:

This is one of the subtler changes from the book. In the book, Crowley knows Satan is coming and, desperate, arms himself with a tire iron. It's the best he can do. He's not Aziraphale; he wasn't made to wield a flaming sword.

The show, IMO, improves on this considerably. Now he, like Aziraphale, gets to face annihilation with what he was made for in his hand. And it's not a weapon, not even an improvised one like the tire iron.

He made stars with it.

[both gifs by @fuckyeahgoodomens]

If you Google 'crank handle,' you'll get variations on this:

Crank handles have been around for centuries. Consisting of a mechanical arm that's connected to a perpendicular rotating shaft, they are designed to convert circular motion into rotary or reciprocating motion.

Which is to say they're one of the 'simple machines,' like a lever or a pulley; the bread and butter of engineering. You'll also get a list of uses for a crank handle, archaic and modern. Among them: cranking up the engine of an old-fashioned car... say, a 1933 Bentley. That's what Crowley has been using his for, lately. But he's had it since he was an angel and he's still, it seems, very capable of it's angelic applications.

Stopping time. For instance.

(This is conjecture on my part, but, I like to imagine that Crowley has the ability to stop time for the same reason I can --and should-- unplug my computer before I perform maintenance on it. Time and Space are a matched set, after all, and in his designs in particular, one feeds into the other.)

I know everyone has already said this, but: I REALLY LIKE that when he needs to channel the heights of his power, he does so not with a weapon but with a tool. Practically with a little handheld metaphor for ingenuity. One from long-lost days when he made beautiful things.

(And he loved it. Still loves it --he incorporated that metaphor into the Bentley, didn't he?)

Let Aziraphale rock up to the apocalypse with a weapon: he has his own compelling thematic reasons to do exactly that. Crowley's story is different, and fighting isn't the only way to express defiance. And if you've been condemned as a demon and assumed to be destructive by your very nature, what better way than this?

He made stars. They didn't manage to take that from him.

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale are fighters, really --they have no intention of fighting in any war. They'll annoy everyone until there's no war to fight in, for a start. But between the two, if one must be, then that one is Aziraphale. Principality of the Earth, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, Wielder of the Flaming Sword... all that stuff. Even if he'd prefer not to, it's very clear that Aziraphale can rise to the occasion, if he must.

Crowley was never that kind of angel. He wasn't a Principality. He doesn't have a sword.

...And yet.

It's Crowley who protects. He's the one who paces, who stands guard, who circles Aziraphale and glares out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near.

In light of everything else I've said here, I think that's interesting.

Obviously part of it is that Aziraphale enjoys it and, you know, good for him. He's living his best life, no doubt no doubt no doubt. But what about Crowley? What's driving that behavior, really?

Have you heard the phrase, 'loved to the point of invention'? Well, what if 'the point of invention' was where you started? What if where you end up involves glaring out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near? What is that, in relation to the bright-eyed thing you used to be?

What do we name the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale?

...Thinking about how an excitable angel with three million pages of star design he wants to tell you all about...becomes a guard dog. Is all.

[maaikeatthefullmoon]

Once upon a time, there was a Good Omens fanfiction reader, who swore they didn't like AUs.

They read all the discussions about the 'classics', the 'must reads' and shrugged.

"But it's not canon", they muttered to themself. "They're not human. How on Earth can anyone write these stories about them when they're not actually bloody human? It’s not right."

And then, dear reader, they were persuaded to read just one AU. They were still an angel and a demon, just in a slightly different universe. And then...then they tried a human AU. And then...then they were hooked. Obsessed, one might say.

That reader, dear reader, was me. Of course. Obviously. Well, duh. And I would like to share the obsession in the form of some recommendations.

I have the wonderful @shadesofecclescakes to thank for MANY of these absolute beauties, she is absolutely the QUEEN of recommendations (and medicinal gifs).

So, now, in no particular order, some Highly Recommended AUs:

Or Be Nice by charlottemadison Rated E - A is a bookseller, C is a drummer, they are BOTH petty bitches. They're newly neighbours. C has a CAT and I'm there for it, he also has migraines and I hard relate. It's bitchy and the pranks were DIVINE. It was also deliciously spicy. The loveliness is that the author really captured the flawed nature of humans but also how it can be overcome. Same author as What We Make of It (what was Shotgun Wedding - an absolute GO AU CLASSIC and one of the best things I've ever read)

Not a Mounted Dildo but a Fuck Machine by NaroMoreau & summerofspock Rated E - So very, very E. This one was just filthy. So wonderfully filthy. The authors would like to tell you there was no plot to their porn, but there really was. A meets a girl online, because A is straight. He really is. Honest. But then, oops, lockdown happens. But, it's a good thing, really. For his best homeboy C is there, to help this poor virgin 'learn the ropes' for when lockdown is over and he goes on his first date...with the girl he's so very much into...coz, no homo, yo...;)

The Whole Damned World Seemed Upside Down by WyvernQuill Rated M - An AU in the way that it's still angel/demon but after Crowley makes a wish for things to be 'different', the universe obliges...and he's dumped into a reality which is very, very different to what he knew. He learns some truths and there's a whole lot of drama. Beautifully written with a wonderful plot and great drama. Excellently described and would make for great TV. (Oh, and Death in the new reality is really squeamish - it's brilliant.)

Telling Tall Tales by Siobhans_World Rated E - A sweet pretend relationship fic, where A pretends to be Maggie's boyfriend to help her pass as straight for her family. But he then meets her cousin, C, who he then inevitably (ineffably?) falls for. Miscommunication, angst, fluff, gay panic, it's got everything.

Flawless by @mrghostrat & @chernozemm Rated E - I've decided only to include one fic by each author and boyyy was it hard for ghostrat! But Flawless was, well, flawless. For such a relatively short story, it kept us guessing until the end. The characters were all beautifully written - the flaws (ha.) were DEEP and CRACKED but so fucking perfectly sculpted and presented. It was incredibly real and believable. Extremely maturely written and satisfying. AND THE ART!!!

How To Pull An Angel: A Bunnings DIY Guide by NascentSurrender Rated M - When I first saw the title, I thought it was going to be a silly, irreverent, comedy romp. But it was actually a funny, well written story that will stick in my mind always. Firstly, C watches Bluey - which is now CANON for me. Secondly, having lived in Aus as a child, I've got a soft spot for the country anyway, and I've barely ever seen it come up, so this was lovely. There were some wonderfully humorous bits, but also tender and beautiful moments that I adored.

Montreal Confidential by Maggie_Honeybite Rated E - I learned about Montreal (and Canada & their baked goods), classical music and mafia stuff in this fic. A is a widower. C plays the cello. His cello's name is Bentley. This is one of the only age-gap, mild D/s fics I've actually gotten into. There's fluff AND drama. CW for non-con (not A/C)

Under the Summer Stars by @pannotbread Rated E - an amazing astrophysics/astroecology/astrobiology fic that has pining, slow burn and Only One Telescope (yes, really, and it's everything you'd imagine). It's got beautifully written (erotic) imagery and So Much Science that's been written accessibly but still with amazing detail. It's poetry. It's hot. It's gorgeous. CW for internalised homophobia and self hatred. *Not completed yet*

Oddity by @tsyvia48 Rated E - A museum fic! About David Bowie! A is in charge of collections, C is an actor hired by (highly incompetent) Gabriel to guest curate a new Bowie exhibit. Miscommunication ensues for delicious tension. There's bitchiness, there's a bit of light angst, there's a lotta love. *Not Completed Yet* Poetry Carved In Flesh by @fellandcrow Rated E - I'm obsessed by tattoos. Hence, I am obsessed by this story. I'm planning a(n enormous) GO tattoo once GO3 is out, and this fic has actually helped me with my ideas. London-based A stalks lovingly follows Edinburgh-based tattoo artist C online. They build up a rapport. Well, C likes A. A is SMITTEN with C. C encourages A to get tattoos. Which he does. C designs a tattoo especially for A, the fic has currently left off at the point where C is in London and going to tattoo A. *Not Completed Yet*

There Is A Light & It Never Goes Out by @phoen1xr0se Rated M - A escapes from a disappointing, chaotic life to a remote island for five months to do research on puffins. There he meets lighthouse keeper C. Who also ran away, 20 odd years ago. There is a chaotic, found family on the island, but it is small, and it is lovely. This fic is written with love and passion and the imagery is so beautiful. The author has actually gone to do Actual. Physical. Research. on puffins. So how is THAT for dedication? Cannot wait until it resumes. *Not Completed Yet*

Ok, because I am Bad At Tumblr, I've not tagged the majority of authors, if you are on here - please let me know if you're here and I'll edit!

I should probably add in the following, I suppose. I'm writing an AU.

Free by, well, me. Imposterssyndrome (yes I know it's Imposter Syndrome, but that one already existed) Rated E - A runs a bookshop, C has an unfortunate past as a runaway ex-addict. They meet in an acute mental health ward after both having had a mental health crisis. Eventually A invites C to move in, and they navigate sharing a space, and their lives together. The story starts heavy, and is an emotional roller coaster, but there are moments of fluff and smut mixed in. There is a happy ending, I promise. It's a passion project, heavily researched and has a LOT of lived experience in it. I've gotten to know some amazing people through it who have messaged me and shared their experiences and I'm so glad I wrote it. *Not Completed Yet*

Last thing to say - once I finish Free, I will be teaming up with @shadesofecclescakes to write another human AU which is VERY much in her wheelhouse and I CANNOT FUCKING WAIT. I just know you're all going to LOVE it. The only thing that will make it even better is ART, so we're still on the hunt for someone.

**Last-last thing to say. I’ve missed off a few Biggies. There are some super popular AUs, mostly written around 2019. Most people will have read them. I’ve tried to focus on the perhaps lesser-known & WIP ones. Although I know many people don’t read WIPs, hopefully you’ll (book)mark them for future!**

[oceisastar]

MDNI

neuvillette x reader; reader has a d*ck, no pronouns used, top!reader, somnophilia (pre-discussed + consented to), romantic sex

do NOT re-post / re-use / translate my work in any shape or form. rb’s are fine.

____________________________________________

thinking abt neuvillette. coming home to see him undressed, splayed across your bed with hardly anything on. his breaths are soft and he’s lying on his stomach, hair fanned out.

you climb onto the bed with graceful movements, careful not to wake him. his plush ass looks so inviting, so you gently shimmy down his underwear. your breath catches when you realize that his ass is wet with lube.

he was preparing himself for you. almost as if he was expecting you to come and do this. your gut clenches with desire. kneading the soft flesh, you revel in the quiet sound that it earns you from the man below.

you slowly run your hands up his back, watching carefully as he tenses. his skin is soft and smooth, cool to the touch. almost like an instrument, you play him wonderfully.

the soft foreplay has you hard—you fish out your dick, and wet it with lube, slowly easing it into him.

“mm,” he moans softly. he’s the hydro dragon, and yet he has the voice of an angel.

you lean down and part his hair, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. you move experimentally, getting comfortable inside him. you start to move your hips, savoring the comfort of his body.

you watch as you fuck him, the way his hole needs you, even if he doesn’t know it. how his body always calls to yours.

you rest your body weight atop his, careful not to crush him, but for him to feel the warmth of your body.

he stirs, gripping weakly at your arm. you press your lips to his ear, licking up the shell of it.

“m-my love,” he says breathlessly, voice thick with sleep as he grinds back against you.

“good evening, beautiful.” he blushes at the term of endearment.

“I came home expecting you to be asleep, only to find my present nearly unwrapped, presenting himself to me. I am so lucky.” you murmur.

“I knew you would be late so I... I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”

“such a considerate darling.”

he leans back, craning his head for a kiss. his hole clenches as your lips meet his, a soft, warm dance between your tongues.

“you were made for my cock,” you say into his mouth. by the way he tightens around you, you’d say he agrees.

you rock into him, burying your face into his hair, sniffing deeply. the scent is clean and fresh, the care with which he treats himself evident in how soft it is.

he’s perfect—so sweet, and so very gentle.

“I missed you so much.” you’d say, wrapping you arms around his waist and pressing yourself against him fully.

“I missed you as well, my dear...” he sounds so fond it aches.

[slowstorms]

the moon had made her journey through the sky with her lover hours before, leaving you to rely on the stars and dim street lamps filtering through your bedroom window to memorize satoru’s sleeping form next to you.

as rare as it is for gojo satoru to sleep much at all, it’s rarer for you to look at him the way you are right now. you’re over half a year into your relationship with him at the present, but he still manages to reduce you to a shy puddle without much effort.

so, your hope this sleepless night is to learn by heart every minuscule yet beautiful detail he’s comprised of.

from his soft, snowy hair to his flawless skin; his pretty eyelashes to the rosy apples of his cheeks. the slight rise and fall of his chest, plush lips slightly parted; the way he falls asleep holding you, but withdraws in his unconscious state.

(you gather that, deep down, satoru does this because he’s still not used to intimate touch – it’s never been something you fault him for, and you’re proud of his progress. still, you can’t help but feel sad that this is something permanently etched into his soul, though it’s nothing you and satoru can’t endure together).

you think of the endearing bedhead he wakes up with, flecks of gold from the early morning sun spattered across his white tufts. you think of how his eyes are the first to greet you when you wake. though the glances he gives you are always matching his outwardly lighthearted personality, there’s an exhaustion that’s hidden deep beneath it all.

seeing how soundly he rests, you send up a prayer hoping that, come morning, at least some of that exhaustion will lift.

the serene look on satoru’s face makes your heart twist in your chest, leaving you almost breathless. you wonder how someone as perfect as him could even exist.

he always looks as if he was created by god’s most talented angels, an aura of elegance and splendor surrounding him even in his not-so-elegant moments, which you believe to be few and far between. even when that look of craze takes over him during a fight; even when he returns home from a gruesome battle, covered in blood and guts; even when he breaks down, letting out feelings and emotions he has to bury in order to carry out his duty effectively – his head pressed to your chest as he cries and cries and cries. even then.

your thoughts wander off now into questions of how it was destined that satoru would end up with you. to touch him, to hold him, to care for him, to worry for him, to give him love, to give him patience, to give him understanding. to simply know him – it’s all nothing short of the most honorable blessing the universe could present you with.

while lost in your reverie, you fail to notice satoru stirring beside you. his sleepy daze and the near complete darkness of the bedroom doesn’t stop his six eyes from honing in on you, a habit of his to do the second he wakes up, to make sure you’re still next to him. to make sure you’re still safe.

and there you are, propped up on your elbow, facing him as your mind floats away, miles and miles up into the atmosphere.

a bleary whisper of your name pulls you back down to earth. “what are you doing up, hm?”

“did i wake you?” concern laces your voice, and you reach out to hold satoru’s cheek. your thumb grazes his skin gently, an unspoken apology.

“you didn’t, don’t worry,” he grabs your hand from where it rests, holding it in his own as he turns on his side to face you. “what’s got you thinking so hard this late at night, sweetheart?”

in a moment of bravery, you answer simply and without thought. “you,” your voice is strained slightly, like you may crumble from all the love you feel if you’re not careful as you speak. “just, everything about you.”

“is that so?” in the darkness, you make out the tired yet amused smile on satoru’s face. “like what?”

your moment of bravery proves to be just that – a very fleeting moment. heat rises in your cheeks as your mind races at a mile a minute trying to find the right words to give him an answer without turning into a mumbling mess.

what am i even supposed to say to you? you think. that i think you’re the most ethereal person i’ve ever seen, inside and out? that you’re my first thought the second i wake up, that you’re my last thought before i fall asleep? that when i can’t fall asleep, i’m helpless as i drown in thoughts of nothing but you?

a beat passes. then another. you hear a soft chuckle in front of you, the sound of it full of adoration. “that’s okay, baby,” satoru says, running his thumb along your knuckles. “you can tell me in the morning, how about that?”

you nod wordlessly as you both settle back into bed. he pulls you close again, and you melt into his arms. with your head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat is the only thing to finally lull you to sleep, to pull you into dreamland – where all you see is satoru, satoru, satoru.

[tkthrilla-writes]

hii I hope you’re doing well!! i saw your requests were open and decided to ask! This is just a small idea i had, if you don’t want to do it you can ignore this!!

Could you write Alastor with a Fem reader who kind of dresses like Morticia or Elvira, but with like really long black hair that’s always in a ponytail, like long to the point it’s a few inches above the ground long. Alastor really loves her and also loves her hair, and if Angel or like anyone else try’s to touch it he just gets really protective.

Ask and you shall receive anon! It’s Saturday so let’s make it rain! Since it wasn’t specified, I am going to make this request in the form of headcanons hope that is ok with you. Just going to make slight adjustments as Y/n does not know the people of hell and only Alastor, who due to a ritual possesses and resides in Y/n’s body. But don’t worry I got chu.

“My my what is the occasion my dear?”

The second this demon sees your new hair style and new get up this man is tripping all over the floor.

Since when was your hair that long?

Since he is more used to the both of you getting up in the morning and trying to look presentable for the day, more often than not that hair is always up in a bun or ponytail, or if you are feeling up for a change, the rare and occasional braid. But wow, the second he sees that floor length black dress with that floor length black hair, his smile went past his ears with how deadly you look.

“It’s for Halloween, thought I’d dress up for the trick-or-treaters who stop by,” you said in full enthusiasm getting the candy ready.

“And who exactly are you dressed as? Surely not yourself,” this man tried to be smooth and seducing but all this got his was you looking this demon dead in the eye with the most blasphemous and shocked look on your face.

Bare with him, he died before he could know about the Adams family and the beauty that is Morticia Adams.

So you bombard him with quotes like, “The light,” “I am just like any other mother,” “But my dear you are not a mother? And what is wrong with the light? I thought you liked the sun for the Vitamin D as you call it” easy to say he does not get it and you make it a sheer point that before kids start coming over asking for candy you both sit down and watch the damn movie.

When it finishes it is very easy to assume which character he likes and what was his favourite part from the way his shadow parts from your body and his shadow form makes an eerily familiar black suit with thin red strips. Alastor loves his red.

“Begone with thee!” he exclaims as he fake attacks the sun through the windows; but his absolute favourite “My Dear, how long has it been since we last danced?”

“Hours,” and he proceeds to dance with you throughout the entire apartment.

Now timeskip a couple more hours into what is now the night, carrying on with the theme you decide to show him the more modern adaptation of the Adams family, and since you know that he might enjoy the horror aspect to it. “We’re going to watch Wednesday tonight!”

“THERE’S A SHOW ABOUT THE CHILD!” he’s excited. He does get mildly annoyed of having to pause it so frequently because of all the people who keep ringing, but he enjoys it none-the-less.

That is until a group of very, let’s say, particular people… come ringing at your door. There were some kids in what you could guess very early teens all decked up in their costumes who yell out “TRICK OR TREAT” but the people behind them are who really catch your attention.

The pervy dads

To put it simply they kept whistling at you while you gave out candy to the kids. One dad even started catcalling you.

It wasn’t until one of the dads actually tried to reach out to actually touch your hair, but before he could actually do that his arm snapped mid-air.

First a sickening SNAP resounded that made everyone stare and be silent, next came the deafening scream of the dad who just had his arm mysteriously snap. This just made everyone leave you alone immediately as they tried to see what was wrong… before realising it was completely broken and damn near flopping in the wind.

You simply took this as your cue to slowly close the door, and take a few steps back. “Al?” you asked knowing damn well how this demon, “Yes Cara mia?” he replied. “Hmm, thank you,” you said, “You are very welcome, another man should not be touching another’s spouse.” “Possessive much?” you ask coyly, “and since when were we married?”

“My dear we have been in this arrangement for many years, we might as well be,” Alastor’s shadowed figure reached down for your hand to place a gentle kiss on the knuckle.

“I don’t remember you proposing, so how can we be married.”

“Don’t tempt me my dear, because I promise you, you were mine the day you made this contract and arrangement. And I absolutely vow that nobody else will place their filthy hands on what is mine.”

[artandthebible]

Mary Magdalen

Artist: Andrea Solari  (1460–1524)

Genre: Religious Art

Period: Renaissance

Date: c. 1524

Medium: Oil on Panel

Collection: Walters Art Museum

Mary Magdalen Description

Mary Magdalene went to anoint Christ's dead body, only to discover that he was resurrected. She is shown here transferring the ointment from a maiolica pharmacy jar to a smaller vessel.

According to Church, Mary Magdalene was a sinful woman, who upon meeting Christ repented her former ways. She was present at the Crucifixion and later went to anoint Christ's dead body, only to discover that he was resurrected. As in this painting, the Magdalene is often depicted as a great beauty with long golden hair. She is shown here transferring the ointment from a maiolica pharmacy jar to a smaller vessel. The artist has represented the Magdaene in a style influenced by the works of Leonardo da Vinci, particularly in the subtle "sfumato" technique that invisibly blends light and shade and make contours appear soft.

Mark 16:1-7 NLT

Saturday evening, when the Sabbath ended, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome went out and purchased burial spices so they could anoint Jesus’ body. Very early on Sunday morning, just at sunrise, they went to the tomb. On the way they were asking each other, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” But as they arrived, they looked up and saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled aside. When they entered the tomb, they saw a young man clothed in a white robe sitting on the right side. The women were shocked, but the angel said, “Don’t be alarmed. You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He isn’t here! He is risen from the dead! Look, this is where they laid his body. Now go and tell his disciples, including Peter, that Jesus is going ahead of you to Galilee. You will see him there, just as he told you before he died.”

Note: The painting has been attributed alternately to Andrea Solario and Bernardino Luini, both artists influenced by the works of Leonardo da Vinci in their definition of form and use of the subtle "sfumato" ("smoky" in Italian) technique that invisibly blends light and shade to make the contours appear soft.

[whatswrongwithblue]

The Fire in the Sin

Chapter 6 - Little Sunshine

Word count: 4,227. Read on AO3. Series Masterlist. <- Previous Chapter.

Summary: Mina's POV of where she disappeared to at the end of the last chapter and a bit of backstory of what her job working for Abaddon in The Pit entails. TW: Canon typical violence and language, torture, gun violence.

Series Summary:

In the 1950's, Alastor met the woman he would eventually marry but unfortunately his Radio Demon persona went for her soul rather than her hand. He has to learn what it means to love, and cherish, without possessing and he does. Their relationship is beautiful, strong, unbreakable . . . but he carries a dark secret through their marriage for decades until eventually he has to face the consequences of that secret and leave her, without warning, for seven years. He returns, finding her at the Hazbin Hotel, and has to convince her to forgive him, while being literally bound to secrecy, unable to tell her any of things he now is desperate to explain to her.

(This is a duel timeline fic, timestamps will be a the top of every chapter.)

Chapter 6 - Little Sunshine

Present Day

Earth

A marbled tabby cat walked along the edge of a mausoleum roof, ears flicking back for a second, as it watched the group of humans below. Its green and gold eyes took a second to look around, finding a raven looking down from a nearby tree. On the eve of a nearby, smaller mausoleum, nearly imperceivable, was a tiny bat hanging upside down, but very awake.

A graveyard; how cliché.

One would think these demonic traffickers were amateurs for their choice of location, were it not for their impressive human disguises and the efficiency in which they were burning the bodies. Bodies that had belonged to real humans less than an hour ago.

These traffickers were a real threat if they were not only dealing up on Earth but causing violence and mayhem as well. Mina only cared because it was her job to care; to bring these criminals back down to Hell where they belonged. The human deaths were of no real concern to her, other than making this situation even messier, when she just wanted to get this job done and over with.

She had honestly meant to spend the night at the hotel.

After all, she had invited Alastor to come to bed with her. But as she had tossed and turned, sleep avoiding her restless mind, her phone had lit up the darkened bedroom walls, buzzing rhythmically against the top of her nightstand.

She groaned at first but when she saw the screen, she sat up, very awake.

“What is it?” she asked, concerned.

“I’m sorry to wake you, truly,” Abaddon’s voice said, “but the team needs you tonight. Again, I’m sorry for the short notice, but can you be here in 10 minutes?”

“I can be there in five,” she had said, and hung up.

Usually, her jobs were more scheduled than this but the ones that weren’t were always the most violent. Torture had become monotonous after so many decades, but hunting, especially when it required her to work as a team, was always exhilarating. She took it without thinking, the thrill of the idea getting the best of her, but now that she was in the midst of things, she was antsy and regretting her decision.

They had almost missed their chance of catching this group; luckily their informant among them had dialed Abaddon when their colleagues’ plans had suddenly changed.

It was three against five, but it was no matter, Mina could handle this group on her own; the back up was just reassurance and would help make this go by quicker.

The tabby cat stretched out its front legs, arching its back into a deep stretch, giving the raven and the bat the signal.

Lifting off from its branch, the raven began to fly in a circle around the graveyard. Roena was the ravens name, and she had the ability to create barriers, even in her full animal form. It would ensure none of the demons could leave by anything except a portal made of angelic fire.

Ro, and the bat, Alina, where much older than Mina, and had been very welcoming to her when she was promoted to their ranks. She admired and trusted them to have her back on jobs like this.

A flash of moonlight gleamed unnaturally from the graveyard below, catching her eye, and still in feline form, Mina switched from watching the raven work above her to down at the would-be-humans gathered around the gravestones.

Even her quick glance was too late.

A resounding bang made the cat flinch backwards, ears pinned back against the assaulting noise.

Black feathers burst in midair, and the raven fell from the sky. What landed with a final thud on the soft grass of the graveyard appeared to be a young woman, with large black wings sprouting from her back and black talons beneath her knees rather than feet.

The cat opened its mouth as an unnaturally loud roar erupted from it, and Mina shifted into her more human form, and fire shot forward from her outstretched hands.

Alina had also shifted into her natural state, large bat ears framing the sides of her face and snarling her teeth.

For the first time, Mina truly wished she was alone. She couldn’t use her voice here, her most powerful tool, not with Alina here in the crossfire. Her ears were too sensitive; even if she covered them, she would be susceptible to the magic and be rendered helpless. But she still had her speed and her claws, as well as the angelic fire that Abaddon infused into all of those that worked for them.

The demons they were after had also dropped their disguises and were fully fighting back now; even the half fox demon that was supposed to be their informant.

A double agent.

But the sly fox wasn’t the one wielding a Carmine angelic steel gun.

He came at Mina with a sword, swinging high, so she ducked low, allowing them to stagger forward awkwardly as he missed his mark. She caught the demon by his large fox tail and yanked him back, digging her claws into the underside of his sword arm, ripping apart muscle and ligament until he dropped his weapon. After a bite to his neck, she shoved him to the ground and picked up the sword. He had time to turn onto his back, showing Mina his pointed vulpine facial features twisted in fear before she shoved the tip of the sword under his jaw and out through the top of his head.

Another bang resounded as she pulled the sword free and Mina felt a punch to her shoulder. She stumbled forward from the momentum of it, trying to pull air into her lungs but if felt as if she had just fallen several stories and had the wind knocked out of her.

She turned, pressing her hand to her shoulder, not even noticing the blood yet, and saw the Hellhound with his gun raised at her. He hadn’t made a killing shot but the smile on his face told Mina that he was sure he wouldn’t miss a second time.

Alina had her hands full with the other three so Mina was alone, starring down the barrel of one of the few weapons capable of killing her permanently. 

She felt the angelic fire burning in her fists, ready to strike out.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” the Hellhound said. “I’d have another bullet in you before you’d know it.”

“And I’d have you burning alive if you tried to pull that trigger,” she said cooly.

It was a stand-off.

A wet whack from across the graveyard and the Hellhound’s attention quickly went to the battle beside them, where Alina had just sunk an axe into the gut of crocodilian demon.

Mina used the second of distraction to shoot a jet of fire towards the Hellhound.

“Shit!” he yelled, and jumped out of the way, but not fast enough to save his arm from getting engulfed. He let out of a howl of pain as the bitter smell of burning fur and flesh filled the air.

Mina started to feel faint and looked down at her shoulder. She could barely move her neck that way with how stiff and sore she was quickly becoming, but her hunting clothes – black trousers, with an orange top, and black leather jacket – were completely soaked in her own blood. She swayed at the sight before she steadied herself. She still had to kill this mother fucker before she could allow herself to pass out.

He was down on the ground, having rolled out the fire on his arm, and was just sitting up. He raised his gun as she raised her fist to send another blast of fire his way.

The Hellhound’s hand that was holding the gun began to smoke and he screamed again before it burst into flame, forcing him to drop the gun.

Mina stopped, her hand still raised high to strike, because it was not her burning the Hellhound’s hand.

A blast of warm air put out the rest of the small fires that Mina and Alina had accidentally set during their battle. Mina closed her eyes and raised her hand against the wave of heat and small debris and when she lowered her arm, Abaddon was standing over the Hellhound.

“You dare use angelic weapons against my own?!” they said, their voice a much lower masculine octave than what they usually used. Their eyes were burning red, and they wore a crown of fire around their blond locks. Mina had seen this terrifying display used before, but she had never seen them look this furious. Even she was scared.

“Fuck you, man,” the Hellhound panted in pain, “I’m just trying to make a living.”

“You think I give a shit about your life when you just ended the life a soul old enough to have seen the building of Hadrien’s wall, you Hellborn scum?”

“Go ahead then, arrest me. You can’t torture my kind over and over again. I’m not a Sinner. You wont be able to do your worst.”

Abaddon snatched up the Hellhound's burned and mangled fist and with a touch of golden light, it was whole again.

“I’m an angel, you dipshit,” they said, and as quickly as they healed the hand, they crushed it between their fingers, the bones crunching audibly across the graveyard. The Hellhound screamed anew. “I can keep you alive for a very, very long time.”

Abaddon let go of the hound's broken hand and stepped back as a ring of fire opened up beneath his paw-like feet, and he fell screaming into The Pit.

“AS FOR THE REST OF YOU!” Abaddon roared, raising their arms and the four other Sinners lifted into the air, revived but still bleeding. “Let’s see how long you last in my lake of fire.”

Abaddon dropped their arms and each Sinner fell into the fiery portals below their suspended bodies.

Alina ran to Mina’s side and caught her as she finally gave into her wooziness. She was battered and bloody as well but hadn’t been shot with angelic steel like Mina had, and her wounds were already visibly healing.

The two women watched as Abaddon walked over to Roena’s fallen body and knelt beside her.

Mina could never have imagined the anguish on their face as they cradled Ro’s broken body. Tears spilled down their flushed cheeks as they brushed her hair back from her face, exposing her unblinking, dead eyes.

“Oh, my girl,” they cried, “my sweet girl, what did they do to you?”

Alina supported Mina as together, they walked over to Abaddon, and then left Mina braced against a tree as she also fell, sobbing at the corpse of her fallen friend.

Mina watched the display of grief and had to look away.

Abaddon was a better parent to Mina than her own had ever been, but Roena and Alina had been friends for hundreds of years. She felt the failure and the loss of Ro more than her bullet wound, but she still felt like an outsider in this moment. The other women and Abaddon had been family for centuries.

She closed her eyes, stubbornly fighting the brewing emotions inside of her, and wished she were just back in her bed at the hotel.

___

Abaddon had taken them back to The Pit, insisting that Mina’s bullet wound be seen to. Being in no state to refuse treatment, Mina complied, and Abaddon had accompanied her back to her old quarters.

“Thank you,” she said, as Abaddon helped her peel off her ruined and bloody jacket. She could barely move the shoulder on her own and the slightest bit of movement caused the skin to break open and bleed again. “I can’t go back to the hotel like this. Charlie will ask too many questions and Alastor  . . . well, he’d lose his shit if he saw me like this.”

“I’m sure he would,” Abaddon said with disinterest. “May I?” they asked, gesturing at the shirt sleeve that needed pulling down to have access to the wound.

Mina nodded. Covering up her skin was an old habit of hiding the pattern of spots across her shoulder and upper back. Alastor had helped her get over her insecurities about the leopard like pattern ages ago, but she still didn’t like others to see it.

Abaddon was family though, and willing to help her with the intense pain she was in, so she didn’t hesitate to allow them to gently slip the sleeve off, exposing the bloody skin between collar bone and bicep.

Carefully then, they placed one hand on either side of her, covering the entrance wound, and the much larger exit wound.

“I’m sorry, Mina, but this will be unpleasant at first before it gets better.”

“I can handle it,” Mina said, and Abaddon pressed down. They didn’t use a lot of pressure, but it still felt like they were cranking a vice against her sensitive, wounded flesh. A glow of light luminated in the corner of her eyes and then a tingling sensation tickled through the path of destruction in her shoulder before it was replaced with a sudden intense burning.

Two seconds later, though it felt like much longer, Abaddon removed their hands. The flesh now completely healed; they tenderly pulled the orange sleeve back into place.

They stood then, getting a wet rag, and using it to wipe her blood off their hands.

“Take your time here. Clean up, get a fresh set of clothes, make yourself good as new. But then I think you should go back to my niece’s.”

Mina stood as well, still feeling the effects of the blood loss, but no longer sore or stiff.

“Yeah,” she agreed, exhaling, “that was the plan. Can’t be gone from there very long these days, anyway.”

“I mean for you to stay there.”

“W-what?”

Abaddon sighed, and came over to her, putting gentle, parental hands on each of her shoulders.

“You need to take some time off. You’re pushing yourself too hard with this job and what Alastor’s been having you do at the hotel-“

“Alastor’s not-“

“You’re distracted,” they said firmly. “And I can’t have a repeat of tonight.”

Mina’s head spun at their words, and she felt her ears flatten pathetically to their sides.

“You think this was . . . my fault?”

They pinched the bridge of their nose and sighed again.

“It’s not that, not entirely at least. I blame myself as much as anyone. Mostly, I can’t lose you, too. It’s my job to look after you, and ever since Alastor’s return, I’ve been putting you in a position to choose the hotel over me and it’s too much for you to bear, I can see that now. It would be irresponsible of me not to give you this. Please, just take some time and we’ll see where things are at in a few months.”

Mina pulled herself up to her full height, leaning into her anger and indignation, rather than give in to how much this rejection stung.

“Fine, I’ll be out of here in a few minutes.”

“Please, sweetheart, don’t be angry,” they said, as she turned away and headed for her bedroom.

“I’m not angry,” she lied, and flung her door open, feeling like a teenager being asked to leave the dinner table.

“Mina,” they said, stopping her mid motion as she was about to slam the door shut. “Remember. Even when you leave this place, you are never alone. You can always reach me.”

They vanished then, in a glimmering ball of light, as warm and soft as sunshine on Earth.

Mina slammed the door behind her even if her adoptive parent was no longer there to see it.

She cleaned herself up, changed into the same style of sundress - always orange - and knitted sweater - always black - and opened a portal directly into her bedroom at the hotel.

Well, at least Abaddon hadn’t stripped her of her powers. And if they really thought she was responsible for Roena’s death, then what was one little inappropriate use of a portal going to hurt?

Once she was in there and realized how late it was, the exhaustion of the evening hit her like a freight train. She had lost hours of sleep and probably half the blood in her body. It took the last of her strength to strip out of the clothes she had just put on and change into her sea green nightgown.

She flopped unladylike onto her bed and threw her comforter over herself, too exhausted to even cry, and fell asleep in seconds.

___

1917 – 1952

Abadon’s deal was simple.

Work as a Torturer in The Pit and get paid in housing and a comfortable stipend. The job offered safety, which Mina desired above all else, and didn’t require her to sell her soul. It was as straight forward as employment could get. She could quit whenever she wanted, no strings attached, and no coercion tactics to keep her there.  

She hadn’t agreed right away, of course. Abaddon had graciously shown her around the workplace, so to speak. Mina was allowed to observe several sessions to see if she really had the stomach for it, which she easily did. They encouraged her to speak with the other demons who would be her coworkers, and each of them had wonderful things to say about the fallen angel who would be her employer and the quality of life the job gave them.

The lodgings were impressive. A chain of apartments that were as magical as they were macabre. Black brick walls and twisting vines on the outside and dark but cozy furnished rooms on the inside. What drew Mina to the apartments the most though, were the large garden windows that faced the lake of fire that the row of buildings surrounded. It burned eternally and Abaddon said it was their own personal torture device, something they used on those souls that had personally affronted them. Mina thought it was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen.

After being shown everything there was to see and having gone over the terms of her potential employment once again, she was given a couple days to mull it over and when Abaddon returned, she had already packed the few possessions she had acquired.

Mina noticed that almost all the people who worked for Abaddon were women and the few that weren’t were either clearly homosexual or they were androgenous like the angel. It was just a point of interest to Mina, who was from the early 1900’s, and so the commonality of the queer community there in Hell still surprised her a bit. It didn’t take her long, though, to realize she felt much more comfortable in that kind of company than she did around the straight men she had been forced to socialize with while alive.

She had asked Abaddon about their preference in employees once and they had smiled their kind, knowing smile.

“Hell hath no furry than the scorned, darling. It’s one thing to employ violent sociopaths to do such bloody work but it’s another thing when it’s truly cathartic for those dealing out the torture. They are the ones that are best at it, can hold out the longest before the job wears them down, and best of all, they aren’t so far removed from their humanity that they aren’t pleasant to be around . . . for the most part.”

Abaddon really treated the people they hired like their family. It was years before Mina witnessed them interacting with other Overlords or the higher echelon of Hellborn. They rarely even spoke of their most famous brother, Lucifer, though she got the impression the two were close, just private. It really seemed like the people they were fondest of were those that lived and worked in The Pit and they doted on Mina like she was their own flesh and blood.

It was several weeks into her job, and she and her new friends were sitting out on the fiery lakeside, enjoying the end of their day. Shoes off and toes pressing into the black sand that was so pleasantly warmed by the multitude of flames in front of them, she sipped her wine and basked in her newfound luxurious life.

Abaddon came and sat next to her, taking her glass and returning it a second later, mysteriously refilled.

“What is it about this place,” she asked after a sip, “that lets souls respawn?”

Abaddon raised an eyebrow at her.

“You know,” she said, gesticulating at the lake in front of her, “is there some power source or is it your own abilities to heal, that lets souls come back from the dead? Because I’ve been torturing the same fellas over and over again and they have definitely died on me. Then I come back the next day for a new shift and there they are, magically put back together again.”

Abaddon started laughing so hard they had to set their glass down in the sand.

“What?!” Mina asked, not amused by her question being laughed at.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” they said, taking a moment to catch their breath, “I suppose you adjusted so quickly I forgot how new you still are to all this. My dear girl, souls do not die here in Hell. I thought you had realized that.”

Mina frowned, “But I . . .”

“Well,” they held up a finger, “not permanently at least. You could grind a Sinner into a pulp, and they’ll feel everything, but eventually they’ll respawn anew somewhere else. The only magic here is that The Pit makes you respawn right where you died. The real power is held in the human soul; your kind’s essence is truly immortal, not so unlike us angels. It’s a gift from our Father. All of us that come from Him cannot be so easily wiped from existence. And that’s why the more common Hellborn get lighter torture sentences for their crimes. Some of them . . . many of them, can be killed.”

Mina thought back to all those she believed she had killed before she came here, like the couple at the park on her first night, which she suddenly felt a smidge better about. It gave her a sense of freedom, knowing she didn’t have to hold back as much anymore when using her power. She could kill guilt free now; it wasn’t like it was permanent.

But then she remembered the one person she had very much intended to kill and felt extremely bothered.

“You’re thinking of Johnathan, aren’t you?”

Mina sipped her wine. “His name had crossed my mind.”

“Ah, well, I hope this isn’t awkward but consider it a ‘Sign on Bonus.’ You’ll never see him again.” Mina could only stare in response, unsure of what to make of what they had said. “I said we cannot be so easily wiped from existence. I didn’t say it was impossible,” they said and lifted an open palm to her eye level. A small, unnaturally golden flame burned in the air an inch above their skin, fueled by some unseen force. “Angelic fire, one of few devices that can destroy a human soul. I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of dealing with all your exes when you agreed to work for me.”

“All of them?” Mina asked.

“You didn’t think the other men you killed while you were alive would end up in Heaven, did you? Not when poor souls like us aren’t even allowed there?”

“Did it hurt them, when you did it?”

Abaddon studied her for a moment before answering. “Immensely.”

Mina nodded. “Good.”

They closed their fist and extinguished the flame, before giving her a small smile, looking prouder of her than either of her parents ever had.

“The power to wield it will be yours someday if you stick around long enough. And something about you tells me, you will.”

‘Long enough’ turned out to be just over twenty years but two decades to someone who was thousands of years old and saw the creation of Earth wasn’t much time at all. Mina sometimes wondered how Abaddon could see her and the other Sinners as anything but mere insects when their scale of time was so incomprehensible to her and yet, they never treated her like she was beneath them.

Eventually, Mina had fully come into her own. It had taken decades, but she had slowly become a well-respected member of Hell, to those who could recognize her for what she was. She was armed with her own Siren powers and the ability to wield angelic fire. She wasn’t on anyone’s leash, she didn’t deal in souls herself, and she stayed out of the politics of Hell completely. And yet she, and those she trusted enough to associate herself with, were some of the most powerful souls in Hell.

At that point in time, she had been living a quiet, easy-going life as a single lady of Hell.

Until she unwittingly caught the attention of the Radio Demon.

Next Chapter ->

[asmutwriter]

Welcome to the Freak Show (Christmas Edition)

DESCRIPTION: After you and Eddie make a small new home for yourself you find the Christmas season upon you both.

A/N - Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you are having a good festive season! Enjoy some Eddie Munson love for this day (that is semi festive) :)

WORD COUNT: 1045

One Shots / 'Welcome to the Freak Show'

WARNINGS: established relationship, honestly this is just pure fluff

DISCLAIMERS

This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

This story is based after the events of my series 'Welcome to the Freak Show' (a Stranger Things fan fiction) which I'd recommend reading before or after reading this

You furrow your brow and bite at your bottom lip as you read your book. You had been so caught up in the story that you didn't realise how much time had gone by. So when the front door opened you were shocked to say the least. Bolting up right and shoving the book down onto the soft bed. Eddie sticking his head through as he grins at you.

"You made me jump" you say, a smile forming on your lips as you see the pure joy on his face.

"I have a surprise for you"

"That doesn't sound ominous" his grin growing as he looks outside the door momentarily before looking back at you.

"Shut your eyes" you let out a sigh. Sorting the book so it sits nicely on the bed before shutting your eyes. Placing your hands over them for dramatic effect so he knows you aren't peaking. The noises fill you with both a dread yet excitement as you hear him let out small grunts of... frustration? Struggle? Oh god what has he got you?

"Ok" a small pause "you can open your eyes". You move your fingers from your eyes. Parting them so you can peak out. The worry you had leaving your body as you see a small yet beautiful tree on the kitchen counter. "I know its not very big. But the thought of putting a full Christmas tree in our home just didnt seem like the smartest idea" you smile. Standing up you go over to it. Gently touching the pine needles on it

"Where did you get it from?" you speak softly. As if your breath might blow the tree away.

"Guy near work was selling 'rejected' trees. Ones that grew in a weird shape or didn't grow properly. This one just didn't grow properly" you let out a soft chuckle as you nod. He moves his hands, moving them to in front of him (even though you were so distracted by the tree you didn't realise they were behind his back). Pulling out a small bag and holding it out for you

"An early Christmas present". You meet his dark brown eyes and bite your bottom lip slightly, taking the bag from him you open it up. About half a dozen small ornamental figures sitting inside.

"Eddie... They're beautiful" you pull one out. Smiling as you admire the small, festive rocking horse. You wrap your arms around his neck. Hugging him close to you. The familiar smell of leather and cigarettes filling your nose as he wraps his arms around your waist. You kiss the side of his head before moving away, smiling at him. "Come on. Let's decorate our tree". He chuckles slightly as you carefully empty the bag. Placing the items next to your tree so you can look at them properly.

An angel among the items you pick it up. Straightening out the wings slightly before placing it on top of the tree. You feel him place a hand on your lower back as he grabs one of the ornaments. Placing it onto the branch. The both of you placing the remaining items onto the branches of the tree. You feel him wrap his arms around your waist as he holds you close to him. Your back pressed firmly against his front as you place your hands over his arms.

"I think this is the perfect tree for our perfect home" he kisses your shoulder blade before resting his chin on your shoulder. Nodding at your words.

"I only try and get the best things for my queen" you chuckle slightly. Turning around he moves his head, his hold on your waist loosening slightly as you face him. Hands resting on your hips as you put your arms around his neck. Your fingers touching the soft curls of his hair.

"How did I get so lucky to have you?" a soft smile forms on his lips as he looks at you. Brushing a few hairs out of your face as he speaks in a kind tone

"I think I'm the lucky on in this relationship" you smile. Leaning forward and kissing him softly

"I love you Eddie Munson" you say before planting your lips to his again. He brings both his hands up, cupping your face. Moving away his eyes scan your features, thumb gently stroking your cheekbones before he kisses you again.

"And I love you, my queen" he places a kiss to your forehead before he motions at the book on the bed "What book have you got this time?" you grin. Taking his hand in yours as you pull him over to the bed, sitting down as he goes next to you. He leans near you. His hand resting on the bed behind you as he looks at you. A smile on his lips as you start talking about your book.

"So... Its a romance?" he half mocks. You shake your head, a soft laugh leaving your lips

"No. It's a fantasy book about mythical beasts"

"Where the main character and villian end up hooking up at the end?"

"Well..." a small blush appearing on your cheeks as you look down at your hands "Yes. I suppose it does have some romantic elements to the story line" you mutter. Causing him to let out a low chuckle. He takes your hand in his, kissing the back of it before moving the pillows to rest against he wall. He clumsily takes his shoes off, discarding them on the floor as he brings his legs up and onto the bed. Resting his back against the wall. He picks the book up in his hand, holding it out to you with a smile

"Care to read to me?" you smile, biting your bottom lip. Taking the book from him you lie your legs out next to his, sitting close to him as you find the spot you were at. He puts an arm around you as you lean close to him. His other arm resting over his stomach as he looks at the book. Listening to your calming voice as you tell him the story. Your eyes occasionally glancing up to look at the Christmas tree that you shared in your home.

TAGS

@karma2223 @fknemily @sammararaven​​ @munson-fixation

[schrijverr]

You Must Be the Husband

Divergence from chapter 15, where Maddie knows Eddie is married to Buck when she arrives at the 118. However, she didn’t get the memo that she shouldn’t acknowledge that at work, so blows it in front of everyone when Buck introduces her to the team.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (pre-slash), Madney (pre-slash)

Warnings: implied domestic violence, implied internalized homophobia, mistaken homophobia

~~~

Chimney can take a lot, but watching Buck play firetruck simulator is its own special brand of painful. Seriously, how someone can be that bad at a game is truly miraculous, so Chimney has to let him know by insulting him with his most creative ones. It’s a hobby.

Then a voice calls out a greeting from below and Chimney nearly gets headbutted on the nose with how fast Buck looks up. He would make a comment about it, but he’s distracted by the voice saying: “I’m his sister, Maddie,” which explains why Buck is already at the banister.

In an awed voice that sounds fragile-y close to disbelieving, Buck says: “Maddie?”

Immediately Chimney shares a look with Hen. A sister? Buck had been a bit of a closed book about his parents and they assumed it was a sore spot and hadn’t pushed too much. When it came to family, they all knew not to be too nosy, but a whole sister? This is intriguing.

Hen nods and together they move towards the banister to see for themselves. Eddie is already fitting in well, having gone to see what’s up a beat before he and Hen even could.

When he peers over Eddie’s shoulder, Chimney’s breath is taken away. Down below is one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen, lighting up the room with her smile. “Oh my god, Evan.”

Evan.

Wow, Chimney doesn’t think he’s ever heard anyone refer to Buck as Evan. He remembers Buck telling them the name shift happened due to the academy having too many Evans. Either his sister is exempt from calling him Buck, didn’t get the memo or hasn’t talked to Buck in over a year.

Whatever the case, Buck doesn’t seem to care, running for the pole and sliding down as he says: “What-What are are you doing here? Oh my god!”

Buck sweeps her up into a big hug, lifting her from the ground and making her giggle. The noise is so angelic that Chimney doesn’t care how long she hasn’t talked to Buck or what her answer is to why she’s here, as long as she stays.

Then he has a minor crisis, because Maddie is a beauty and Chimney is kind of blown away by it, but watching Maddie and Buck check each other over after they lean back from their hug, makes him realize that Maddie is indeed Buck’s sibling. Suddenly they look very similar and Chimney doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to look Buck in the eye after this.

Luckily, Buck snaps him out of his crisis by asking: “You got this address form the cards? So you did get them?”

Intrigued they await Maddie’s response. They’re trying to figure out why they have never heard him mention a sister before and they’re all nosy enough to want to know more now that the opportunity presents itself.

Maddie grimaces apologetically, but she sounds pretty casual when she replies: “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch much lately.”

Maybe they just drifted apart and they finally have time for each other again, maybe it’s not that bad. But, going off Buck’s look that might also not be true, which is confirmed when he scoffs: “Years, Maddie. I haven’t heard from you in years.”

Chimney looks at Hen, who is already giving him a look back. Whatever Buckley family drama they have going on, it’s juicy. And goes deep.

When Maddie speaks again, something feels wrong in Chim’s chest. Her voice sounds off, horribly empty like no one should sound, especially compared with how she sounded before. “Yeah, I know. And it’s not what I wanted.”

Buck must have more information, because he takes the reply without getting angry at how dismissive it could sound. Instead, he sounds apprehensive, though also hopeful, as he asks: “Where’s Doug?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Maddie responds, sounding like before again. Happy and proud.

“You left him? Finally!” Buck exclaims excitedly.

“Uh-huh,” Maddie nods pridefully with a big grin on her face.

Dread, meanwhile, fills Chimney’s stomach, shared with those around him. They’ve all worked in this line of work for long enough to piece together who Doug is and why Buck would be excited about her leaving him.

This feeling only grows as Buck softly asks: “Do mom and dad know?” and Maddie answers: “No one knows. And please don’t tell them if they call. I don’t want anyone to know that I’m here.”

The answer only makes the situation more grim and if Chimney knows these people – and he likes to think he does, even Eddie though he’s new – then they’re all in agreement; the 118 will welcome Maddie with open arms and keep her safe.

Bobby communicates that to Buck when he catches his eyes as he aims for casual when responding to Maddie. “Kind of sounds like you’re hiding out.”

“No,” Maddie assures him, deflecting, “more like laying low.”

At this point, they’ve reached the top of the stairs and Chimney quickly moves to fake a conversation with Hen, all of them pretending they hadn’t been eavesdropping and are being interrupted in what they were doing to greet Maddie.

“Hi, everyone, I’m sorry, I don’t know if I know your names, but I’m Maddie. I’m Evan’s older sister,” she greets with a soft smile and Chimney wonders how someone so beautiful and sweet could be related to Buck.

“These are my coworkers,” Buck quickly steps in, gesturing to all of them as he goes. “This is Bobby, our Captain. This is Chimney and Hen, they’re badass paramedics.” Chimney is grateful for that introduction, because his smile and wave combo probably looks a little stupid. “And this is Eddie.”

However, because life is cruel and the world bleak, Maddie’s eyes light up when Eddie is introduced and she steps towards him first to shake his hand, bypassing everyone else. The Universe hates him and- “You must be the husband.” Wait, what?

A record scratch can almost be heard as everyone processes the sentence.

Eddie is moving to shake her hand, but freezes halfway through the movement, eyes growing wide. Maddie frowns as she takes his limp hand in her own to shake. Before anything else can be said, Buck snaps back into motion, with an awfully fake and awkward chuckle. “Huh, what are you talking about, Maddie?”

Now, Maddie is looking at him with a frown and Buck looks to be having some sort of fit with the way he keeps widening his eyes and moving his eyebrows as if to convey some message. If any of them had bought what he just said – which none of them had, mind you – then they definitely wouldn’t anymore now. Even Eddie, who is definitely involved in this somehow, seems unimpressed with the lie.

Maddie is even more confused than them, her frown deepening. “What? Eddie. Eddie Diaz? That’s your husband, right? I swore you mentioned in your last card that he was a firefighter too.”

“You’re married?” Hen shrieks, breaking out of her stupor first.

With Hen out of her stupor, Chimney follows. “And to him?” Eddie seems a little offended at that.

“Noooo,” Buck says, another failed lie.

“Evan, what’s happening?” Maddie asks, starting to get concerned.

Hen also frowns in concern, saying: “You know we wouldn’t be homophobic, right? We don’t care that you’re gay.”

“I’m not gay,” Eddie scowls, becoming a part of the conversation for the first time.

Buck winces and the others only get more confused. Chimney checks: “So, you’re not Buck’s secret sudden husband, who shares your exact name and occupation?”

Eddie blushes and looks away, before muttering: “No, I am. I’m just not gay.”

“Being bi or pan also isn’t a problem,” Hen says gently.

“I know that, I’m not that either. I’m straight,” Eddie explodes.

Everyone takes a step back at the intensity and Eddie hunches in on himself uncomfortably. Chimney doesn’t know what to think of it and after seeing Hen’s look, he’s a little suspicious of the outburst. But Buck comes to Eddie’s defense. “What Eddie means, is that it’s just a friends thing.”

“You two got married… as friends?” Bobby asks, clearly still trying to keep up with the conversation and trying to figure out what exactly is happening.

“Yes! Yes,” Buck snaps his finger pointing at Bobby. “That. Exactly that. Married as friends.”

“Since when do you two even know each other? You met two months ago,” Chimney says, also confused and trying to figure out what is happening.

“You didn’t tell your coworkers you guys were married?” Maddie exclaims, hands on her hips as she turns to Buck. “Or that you know each other? How did you explain Chris?”

“Who the fuck is Chris?” Hen asks, usually not one to swear, but probably as fed up with the confusion and new reveals as the rest of them.

At that, Maddie seems to explode more, exclaiming: “You didn’t tell them about your kid?”

“Uh, no, it- it didn’t really come up,” Buck stutters, then half muffled he adds: “Purposefully or whatever.”

“What?” Maddie shrieks with a fury that has Chimney realizing many things about himself and feeling a little hot under the collar.

“I said, it didn’t really come up on purpose, Maddie,” Buck yells back, seeming to suddenly snap. “You haven’t been there for years and there were times when I needed you and you weren’t there. I was alone, raising a kid by myself in a town that hated me and the only two people in my corner were halfway across the world and not talking to me. Or do you not remember those cards? You can’t just waltz back in and immediately start judging everything I’ve done for myself.”

If Eddie’s outburst hadn’t been a shock, Buck’s certainly is. Not only does Buck rarely yell, he never gets angry like this, even Eddie seems to need a second.

They’re also trying to process the reveal of a kid, who appears to be Buck’s? Who he’d been raising alone, before Eddie? No, Eddie might have already been there, but halfway across the world. Two people, he mentioned two people. Must be while Eddie was on a tour, but that was already a while ago from what they understood. How long have they known each other?

Eddie snaps out of his stupor first, stepping closer to Buck and placing his hand on the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Now that they know there is something – the details are still muddled – between them, Chimney suddenly notices how familiar the gesture is. How familiar they both are with each other, as Buck leans into it for a second, before pulling himself back together.

Maddie looks to be near tears and Buck is more gentle when he speaks again. “I know, you couldn’t just come and that you would have. I didn’t mean that, I don’t blame you for that. You just threw me off for a bit there. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Evan, I’m sorry too,” Maddie cries, pulling Buck into a hug. “I know you hate people yelling at you, I shouldn’t have done it. You threw me off too.”

“I can imagine that,” Buck chuckles into the hug, squeezing her once, before letting her go again.

Tentatively, Bobby steps in, directing the conversation into a direction that will get the rest of them the answers they need. Gently he says: “Why don’t we all take a moment. I was about to make lunch, we can sit down and chat, clear everything up.”

Buck and Eddie share a look that clearly shows both are apprehensive about that idea, but the 118 is all curious and Maddie seems to be excited at the prospect of hanging out more with the people her brother had told her all about in his cards, so their fate is sealed.

Once they’re all seated, Hen starts off, asking Buck and Eddie: “So, how long have you guys known each other? Since it’s definitely not two months.”

“Uh, it’s about-” Buck is quiet as he counts for a moment “-three years now? Yeah, three years.”

“And the married thing?” Chimney asks nosily.

“Two years.” It’s Eddie that answers, curtly and doesn’t invite further questions.

However, the 118 has never cared about hostile tones when it comes to nosing about and Buck is a terrible liar, so they turn to him. With Chimney saying: “So, Chris. Is he your kid? Where’s his mom?”

“Uh,” Buck looks awkwardly at Eddie for a moment, then answers: “I mean, legally, he’s mine, and like emotionally.”

They all whip their heads around to Eddie, who is sinking down in his chair, looking like he wants to be anywhere but here. The crossing of his arms makes it clear that he isn’t going to answer any questions they might ask him about it. Naturally, this means they look back to Buck.

Buck looks similar to a deer in headlights and Chimney feels a little bad. However, in the past few minutes they had to process so much new information about him, that he needs this information. He has to have all his ducks in a row, so he can square this new Buck away.

Seriously, in the span of like fifteen minutes, he’s gone from frat boy with a bad relationship with his parents, to having a sister, to having a husband – a husband that is Eddie – to having a kid, to not having a husband, technically, to not having a kid, technically.

“Biologically, he’s Eddie’s and his mom is not in the picture. It’s why we got married, so Eddie could re-deploy while I looked after Chris,” Buck answers quickly and in one breath, before very obviously deflecting: “Anyway, Maddie. I haven’t seen you in forever and this is your first time in LA. Gonna see the sights, hang around for a little bit?”

Despite it being a deflection, he sounds heartbreakingly hopeful and Chimney hopes for Buck’s sake (and his own maybe) that Maddie won’t decline. However, she isn’t meeting any of their eyes as she says: “I’m just passing through.”

“Is it because you don’t have a place to stay?” Buck asks, sending a look to Eddie, who wordlessly picks up on the question, nodding his consent. “Because you can always stay with me and Eddie. You can have my room, I can take the couch or share with Eddie. Right, man?”

“Uh, yeah, yes, of course,” Eddie says. They all saw him nod earlier, so the hesitation has to do with Buck suggesting they share.

Chimney doesn’t know how to feel about it. Eddie never came across as homophobic towards Hen and he must be at least somewhat okay with being perceived as gay, since he married Buck. You need some sort of security in yourself for that, right? But he isn’t acting like it today.

“I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed, Evan,” Maddie tells him, slightly scolding.

“It’s totally fine, I promise,” Buck practically pleads with how desperate he is to keep her in his life, it’s a little sad to watch. “I won’t be out of a bed. Me and Eddie shared a bed before, back in Texas. And Chris would love you. Come on, Mads, you don’t wanna meet your nephew? He’d be thrilled to have an extra tía. His other two are back in Texas.” Maddie hesitates for a moment, and Buck pulls out the puppy dog eyes no one is immune to. “Please, Maddie.”

“If it’s really no intrusion,” she finally gives in, looking at Eddie for confirmation, while next to him Buck lights up like a Christmas tree.

Eddie’s defensiveness and hesitation falls away for a moment as he assures her. “Of course it’s not a problem, Maddie. You’re always welcome in our home.”

“Then maybe I can stay for a little while,” Maddie says, accepting the offer finally.

With that out of the way, Hen decides it’s okay to butt in again and be nosy. “So, you two bought a house together?”

“Yeah, a three bedroom,” Buck answers excitedly. “It was truly an upgrade from our old place. We lucked out, cause the sellers needed it gone. They’ve moved to Europe to be with their grandkids, raised their own children in that house. They had a soft spot for Chris and the man was an army vet himself, so Eddie’s service probably connected with him.”

Chimney is pretty sure Buck has no clue how married he sounds, just being his excitable self. Looking over at Maddie and Hen, they seem to realize the same thing. Even Bobby, who is working on lunch (listening in, because he’s a sneaky bastard, who knows conversations can be different when people forget the Captain is there) has a pained look for Buck on his face. The only person that seems completely oblivious, is Eddie.

Eddie just snorts: “I’m pretty sure, Mrs. Pitchard was just charmed by you. Remember when we came to pick up the keys and she wouldn’t stop squeezing your cheek?”

“Oh shut up,” Buck blushes, though a part of him looks very pleased.

Without his permission, Chimney looks over to Hen to share a look with her. She, naturally, is already sharing a look right back.

When he looks back over to Eddie and Buck again, he catches Maddie’s eyes. For a second, he thinks he’s blown any chance with her by being obviously gossip-y about her baby brother, but then she grins at him and hides a giggle. Chimney’s heart explodes, oh yeah, he so has an in.

Hen, however, is not busy with flirting with Buck’s sister, so she remains on target. “Still, a house together, that’s a huge financial commitment. Why don’t you two rent?”

“Everyone knows buying is better when you can,” Buck says with an air that says he came from an upper middle class family.

“You have that kind of money?” Chimney can’t help but ask, sounding a little surprised. Their firefighter salary isn’t the greatest, though it’s not bad, and before now, neither him nor Eddie had given off the impression of having a lot of money.

“Uh, no, not really,” Buck admits sheepishly. “Eddie got lucky that the house was his in the divorce and we got lucky with the sellers. But we have a pretty big mortgage. It’ll take a while to pay off, especially with all the other childcare costs.”

Maddie sends him a weird look and asks: “What happened to the money mom and dad gave you. Don’t tell me you managed to blow through it all, before even meeting Eddie.”

“No, of course not,” Buck defends himself, looking slightly upset that she’d think that. “That money was for college and I didn’t go to college, remember?”

“They made you give it back?” Maddie exclaims.

“Yeah,” Buck shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. “I didn’t miss it. I worked a lot of different jobs, that was kind of fun. And my lack of money caused me to get stranded in El Paso. Without it, I never would have met Chris, the best Diaz there is.”

Still, despite his blasé attitude, it’s clearly a sore spot. However, before Maddie can press more, Eddie steps in, deflecting: “Hey, shouldn’t I be your favorite Diaz?”

“Tsk, come to me with dinosaur facts and maybe – just maybe – you can begin to compete,” Buck huffs playfully.

That sets Eddie off again and any conversation they had is completely derailed as the two of them bicker- well, they bicker like a married couple. It makes the defensive Eddie from earlier seem even more out of place.

Bobby serves lunch to everyone, cutting the argument off as he takes a seat. “Maddie, I’d love to get to know you better, but first, I do have to ask your brother, why he and Eddie pretended not to know each other.”

“Of course, we’ll meet more properly later,” Maddie smiles. “I’m also a little curious about that, since I seem to have missed that card.”

With so much new information thrown at them, they had all but forgotten about that detail. However, now that Bobby reminded them again, they’re all curious, looking at Buck and Eddie for answers.

Again, Buck takes the lead in explaining, while Eddie pretends that he is anywhere else but here.

“We thought it wasn’t necessary to file fraternization paperwork and stuff, because we’re not actually together, but then it felt weird to pull a good friend out of nowhere that I had never mentioned. Plus, we kind of thought you’d retreat the offer, if you knew we were married, and then we wouldn’t get to work together, so we decided to lie.” He has the decency to look sheepish. “Maybe not our brightest moment.”

All of them blink for few times at the explanation, trying to comprehend that thought process. Chimney thinks Buck’s description was pretty apt: not their brightest moment indeed.

Bobby is the first to speak again, clearing his throat. “Yes, I probably would have retracted the offer,” he confirms. “But you two can work well in the field. I can probably get something worked out.” He pauses for a moment, then adds: “Though, I don’t know if the paperwork for this situation exists.”

Maddie snorts into her hand, chuckling: “Evan, you always find yourself in trouble, don’t you? Still a little rule breaker.” More people laugh at that.

“Shut up,” Buck blushes.

“Nah-uh, I need to hear more about this,” Hen chimes in eagerly.

“Maddie, don’t,” Buck warns.

But Maddie doesn’t listen, lighting up as she tells them embarrassing stories about Buck’s childhood. In spite of his embarrassment, Buck doesn’t seem to mind fully, taking the ribbing with grace and a cheerful look on his face to see Maddie shine the way she does.

Chimney, for one, can’t find it within himself to disagree. Maddie looks stunning when she’s happy and he loves getting to know her better too. In fact, he doesn’t even care about the Eddie and Buck married reveal when she’s here talking instead.

Mentally, he’s already parsing through how weird it would be to be an uncle to Buck and Eddie’s kid. Maybe, he can teach this Chris to be better at firetruck simulator than his dad is.

~~

A/N:

I’m sorry, but ‘straight’ Eddie will always be hilarious to me. Every time I write one of these AUAUs, I am chuckling to myself whenever I write the words ‘Eddie’ and ‘straight’ in the same sentence. It’s just too good. Like, I know you’re a homo, sir, don’t try to hide xp

(don't worry Hen and Chimney will clock the truth in minutes and team up with Maddie to play matchmaker, bc she has to live with their tomfoolery)

[adalwolfgang]

Could you make a little story for Castiel where he meets a young mute girl who communicates through ASL?

Castiel meeting and befriending a mute reader

warnings: Cursing, fluff, angsty (very little) A/n: I am not mute but I am familiar with people I know personally who are deaf and use sign language. Also, I have not watched supernatural in a good while so I don't remember what all powers angels have so some of these might be inaccurate from the show.

credit to @cafekitsune for the banner(s)

This was unexpected for the angel. One second, he's strolling around a town him, Sam, and Dean had stopped at to investigate a large number of murders that have been occurring to sitting on a swing set with a little girl sitting beside him in a park, making hand motions.

She was mute.

He didnt know what these hand motions meant but he was easily able to understand once he read her mind. It was as if she was saying what each meaning of the sign meant as she moved her hands and fingers without moving her lips. He could hear her voice but only in her own conscious.

"Where is your parents? Or guardian?" he asked as he tilted his head with curiosity and concern. The reminder of why he was there in the first place brought him out of his thoughts as worry soon became present on his face. It was safe for someone to be out here on their own, especially a young one at that.

A childish smile appears on your face as you quickly point over to a food truck a few feet away. Your guardian chatting with the owner, their back facing you. Castiel looks to where you were pointing before looking back over at you. The concern slowly leaving his features but not completely gone.

"You be careful when you are out of arms reach from your guardian. Understand?"

You bob your head up and down in response, giving him a thumbs up for more confirmation at his words. Castiel was still a little skeptical at the thought of whatever or whoever has been behind the killings find you and pick you off as a easy target. Many questions started appearing in his head. How would you scream for help? What if no one seen you get taken? What if you cant free yourself from their grasp?

You could see his brows furrow as his eyes drifting toward the dirt in thought. Whatever was on this strange man's mind must've been big as lines formed on his forehead and the corner of his eyes crinkled slightly. You place a hand on the trench coat he adored, even though it was summer time. You started rubbing the fabric between your fingertips, the action making Castiel look down at your hand and then at your face. You suddenly stop the action, staring into his deep colored eyes as well. You thought he had very beautiful eyes. This made a soft smile form on his lips which made your eyes widen. You didnt say that aloud did you? No, that's impossible. Unless?

'Are you a angel?' you signed, this time slower.

The smile on Castiel's face grows as he slowly nods his head, raising his index finger and putting in to his lips as if you both were sharing a secret. Before you could react, your name was shouted. You spun your head around to see your guardian walking over toward you, a hotdog wrapped in tinfoil in each hand. When they finally get close enough you sign,

'I made a friend'

"oh really?" they look around the park curiously before back down at you.

"Where is this friend of yours?"

You turn around expecting to see the man in the trench coat, but he wasn't there. The empty swing was slowly rocking back and forth but no one was there. A wave of confusion and sadness washed over you as your guardian just shrugged it off, taking a seat on the swing the stranger had been, handing you a hotdog.

Back at the bunker, Castiel was sitting in one of the many chairs in the library with his chin propped up on his hand. His back was slumped as he sat in thought. He wanted to protect you. He wanted to be there for you when you needed him. He wanted to be your friend. Dean and Sam finally came back, walking down the stairs and quickly spotting the angel they had been trying to contact.

"Hey man, where the hell did you go? You just wandered off and left us!" Dean was quick to jump on the angels case but he wasn't in the mood to hear any of it and quickly disappeared.

"The hell was that all about?" Castiel left the brothers both confused and concerned.

[the-cosmos-withinus]

Shadow Puppets AU - Archivist magic and Artifacts Basically according to Shadow Puppets lore any and all unexplained phenomenon relating to celestial bodies is left over from the Archivists

The Collector’s Tablet -The Tablet is the Collector’s only connection to the world outside his prison, no one can see or hear him unless they have touched this tablet -It was hidden in the Human Realm by early Witches, first discovered by Father Josiah, the Gravesfield preacher who thought the Collector was a Demon and buried in the woods. -It was later rediscovered by Philip and befriended the Collector thinking he was an angel. -The Tablet actually appears to be a drab flat stone to humans, unless blood has been spilled on the disk, then it appears to be a beautiful round mirror with a crescent moon. Philip cut himself on a sharp rock while uncovering the Tablet so he has only ever seen it as the Mirror.

The Stella-Luna Amulet -A powerful magic Enhancing artifact from the Archivist-Titan war. -Philip was able to create a glyph combination to transfer Astrophel’s connection from the mirror into the Amulet which is easier to carry around, but tends to attract unwanted attention because a pretty gem like it is already worth a small fortune in the right circles, never mind the magic enhancing properties. -The cloudy resin was added by Philip in an attempt to dissuade thieves by decreasing it’s value -Like the Tablet, the Stella-Luna Amulet receives and upgrade when blood is smeared on it which enchances the wearer’s magic even more. Human blood provides the weakest affect, followed by Witches, Demons, and finally, Titan blood, which would have the power to free the Collector. -The exception to this is Philip’s blood, which because of his curse and experiments with glyph magic, is technically Human, Witch and Demon all at once, and has the second strongest affect on the Amulet, somewhere between the affects of Demon and Titan Blood, Belos uses these magic enhancing properties to present himself as the most powerful witch  -Also like the Tablet, anyone who touches the Amulet can see Astrophel, except the Grimwalkers who were created from Caleb’s remains and are born able to see Astrophel.  The Wailing Star -Astrophel was unaware of the Star’s existence for a very long time, but 20 years into his reign as Emperor, Belos attempted to use it’s bizarre magic to free the Collector -Upon seeing the Star, Astrophel was able to identify it as one of his old toys and when Belos asked why he would have a crying toy, informs him that it used to giggle. -The Star’s Magic was able to bring Astrophel out of his prison, but at only a fraction of his power and only for the night, the Star’s power also turned Belos into his monster form for the night -Unbeknownst to both of them, the Wailing Star is periodically sent out by one of Astrophel’s surviving Siblings, the Preserver, to search for the Collector. The Moonlight Conjuring -A bit of leftover magic from the Archivists, when the Celestial bodies align a small group  can call upon a power similar to the Archivists’ to animate any object -However the Titan’s magic cancels out this power so the more witches involved in the ritual and the more powerful they are the more likely it is to fail -Which means that humans and weaker witches are more likely to perform a successful conjuring -It never occurred to Belos and Astrophel to try to use the Moonlight Conjuring to try to free Astrophel, especially after what happened when they tried to use the Wailing Star- they’re content to continue searching for the last Titan 

[ladykatibeth]

So, I wrote a short pre-canon ineffable bureaucracy fic based around the demon Beelzebub having been said to have ruled over a city for a short period, and my idea of Gabriel being sent to stop them….

“Stop, Demon! God has commanded thee to leave this place at once!”

The Supreme Archangel Gabriel, Herald Of Visions, Messenger of God, or as he may be called around 3000 years later, the Archangel fucking Gabriel, sent to thwart the demon closest to him in status and power, the Prince of Hell, Lord Of The Flys, Beelzebub, considers himself to be very fashionable, and so he decided to use the most fashionable of forms available for thwarting.

In order to make himself look more intimidating, Gabriel had summoned a ring of celestial fire, to circle his body, and a couple of floating eyes to match.

Because this was important, Gabriel was rarely sent to Earth to resolve a situation, he spent most of his time managing the hundreds upon hundreds of angels, and Heaven in turn, and preferred to delegate, but he was especially picked as Beelzebub’s only match in both position and power.

He needed to look his best, fit for the occasion, he was specifically called upon by God.

Angel’s tend to regard this form as pretty classic, though humans, if Angels had ever thought to ask them, would more likely use the terms “horrifying” and “oh god” and “please don’t hurt me.”

Which was exactly the reaction the humans had had when he first entered the city, much to Gabriel’s surprise and annoyance. They had fled quickly into the city, to warn their God, the God who had been looking after them all this time. The God who was actually the demon Beelzebub, once a powerful angel, now a powerful prince of Hell.

He had followed them to where they had run, which was the middle of the city, in a beautiful ornate temple surrounded by soldiers, and priestesses and priests, and a throne fit for a deity holding Beelzebub themself, right in the middle of the town.

Beelzebub has made themself look like royalty, in a beautiful expensive dark robe, with a clasp of silver on either arm, and a mesmerizing metal hair piece, that made their dark eyes pop, of course, their ever present flies still surround them. Gabriel pauses to force himself to think, ‘Of course, no matter how dressed up, they’re still a demon.’

As soon as he had appeared the humans had fled almost immediately behind them. Not to, as Gabriel thought they should have, Heaven’s light, but to a demon!

This was all Heavens fault really, they had let the situation get way out of hand. When Beelzebub had first started being worshiped in this city, Heaven had wrongly assumed that the problem would be fixed on its own, once the humans realized Beelzebub was only there to harm them, they’d try to depose them, or flee, and Heaven wouldn’t need to interfere.

Unfortunately Beelzebub had turned out to be a fairly competent ruler of human cities. Keeping away blight, efficiently solving problems presented to them, managing to avoid conflict with neighboring cities. They were adored. A demon! It had to be stopped.

Not that Gabriel was surprised they were competent, they were actually pretty remarkable when it came to managing Hell—they were even sometimes more easy to work with than the other archangels, though he’d never say that out loud, of course.

“No.” Right. Sometimes.

“What do you mean no? You can’t just—“

“No.”

“List—“

“No.”

“I command you to—“

“No.”

Gabriel puts on a whining tone entirely unsuited to an archangel, “Beelzebub, Please.”

“I said no. I don’t want to leave, and you can’t make me, not without a fight, anyway.”

Gabriel stutters for a bit, before regaining his bearings and straightening his spine.

“God has commanded you to—“

“God.” They give him a look like even saying the name has filled them with utter disgust. He bristles, slightly.

“Yes, God,” and here he drags it out so it sounds like ga-ad, and sticks his nose prissily up in the air “has commanded you to leave this city.”

“The God who kicked me out? Who I’m no longer obligated to listen to? That God?” They look him up and down.

“Um.” He shuffles his foot a little.

“That’s what I thought.” Beelzebub turns to the people, still cowering behind them, and asks sweetly “would you all like me to leave? To face him” they turn to indicate Gabriel, still in the terrifying form that led them to cower in the first place, “by yourselves?” they shake their heads vigorously.

Gabriel looks at the humans, who are visibly terrified, and then, a little embarrassed, slowly comes down while taking off the adornments, until he’s in a form that could be considered human if you didn’t look too closely at the eyes.

“Beelzebub, you have given me no choice but to disincorporate you.”

They smirk at him.

He pauses, waiting for them to realize what he said and get appropriately mad or scared or whatever a Demon should feel when they’ve been told they’re about to be discorporated.

He waits. And waits. And eventually—“Stop smiling at me.”

“Why should I? I know you won’t.”

He starts to feel a bit indignant, “Of course I—“

“You haven’t got the paperwork.” They pause and lean smuggly back into their seat.

Now, the Archangel Gabriel may be said to be incompetent in many areas, socially? At times. Knowing the ends and outs of human reproduction? Of course. Communicating important information? If you were to ask Miriam, Job, and Daniel they’d all certainly agree.

But paperwork, paperwork he could do, very well, and for this demon to suggest otherwise—

“What??? Of course I have—” Gabriel walks up to them nearly shoving the scroll in their face—before stepping back.They take it and look over it. “Well, it does say you can discorporate me, that’s true, but there’s no permit to kill humans here.”

The archangel Gabriel barely keeps himself from stomping his foot, “Well I’m not here to kill humans, obviously, I’m here for you.”

“Right, but these humans worship me, to get to me you’d have to kill them first.” And at that a few dozen humans regain their bearing and bravely step in front. “And we both know it’d be an even fight, lots of humans would be hurt in the mix up…..”

Gabriel stops short. They’re right. Unfortunately. He doesn’t have clearance for that.

He looks at the humans and grimaces “and I guess you won’t step aside willingly.”

They glance at each other before one speaks “No, we honor our Lord, Beelzebub, we will not desert them.”

“Ughhhhh,” Gabriel looks to the sky as if asking for mercy. “And you really won’t leave?”

They raise their eyebrows. “Of course.” the archangel Gabriel says, “of course you won’t just leave,” Again a near whine.

And so the archangel leaves, or more precisely, storms out, with a lot less grace and dignity, and in fact, a good deal of embarrassment, than he came in with.

[staytiny-angel]

PARK SEONGHWA

Short description: Park Seonghwa is a 31 year old Model and Singer currently residing in Los Angeles, California after moving from Seoul for his career. He is very successful and an out and proud bisexual man, whose modeled in several LGBTQ+ Campaigns, he is currently being stalked and was forced by his best friend Choi San to hire security which comes in the surprising form of Kim Hongjoong.

Role: Protagonist

Occupation: Model, Singer

Age: 31

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexual orientation: Bisexual

Strengths: His beauty, work ethic and lovely singing voice

Weaknesses: Easily scared.

Skills: Lego builder who can speak fluent Animal Crossing

Biggest flaw: Vanity

Height: 5' 10"

Ethnicity: Korean

Hair color: Natually Black, Currently White Blond

Eye color: Brown

Distinguishing features: A single diamond nose stud,

Disabilities: None

Hair style: White blond with a slightly darker undercut

Clothing style: Preppy, Dresses like someone's rich gay aunt

Accessories: Ever present pearl choker

Weapons: None

Birthplace: Seoul, South Korea

Current residence: Los Angeles, California

 

Education: Bachelor's in music production

 

Health: Perfect

Allergies: None

Socioeconomic status: Rich, vv rich and famous

Childhood: Good all around

Family: Mother, Father, siblings, is the baby of his family but the oldest of his friend group

Friends: Choi San, Choi Wooyoung, Song Mingi, Choi Jongho

Relationships: Once dated fellow model and dancer Lee "Lee Know" Minho, the relationship ended on good terms and they are still good friends and rivals

Pets: One cat named Sasha after his favorite animal crossing character

Rivals: Hwang Hyunjin, Lee "Lee Know" Minho the three models are known for their otherworldly beauty which has led to a friendly sort of competition for jobs. Seonghwa and Lee Know used to date before Lee Know met, fell in love and married Computer Science expert and Hacker Han Jisung.

Enemies: Unknown Stalker

Criminal history: None

[lesbienbys]

so I recently just read all of the trigun manga in like 2 days bc I'm mentally ill (which I don't recommend bc my head hurt from crying all day) and it's literally changed my life. The characters, the themes, the story, everything was literally perfect and tailored for Me.

Spoilers for the whole manga series from here!

One of the first things that left me stunned about this series was the first two scenes in trigun of vash in his angel form. The panels are just so stunning and had me devouring the beautiful yet kind of fucked up concept. I love how the angel form isn't just *insert pretty angel wings* but is kind of all over the place and weird, but still really cool looking (for me anyways). Also the whole being a plant is SO dope and vash's hair getting darker as he uses his form more is just *grips table* I love.

What stood out to me and was the positive light in this series when shit got really heavy, was vash's connections with humans. You realize that he's been alone for 150+ years and many people who he connected with either died from non-natural causes or grew too old. And he's always left surviving on his own. And even if he has people who he connects with in the present (his home with his sensei or lina and her grandma) he doesn't stay for very long. With the exception of meryl, milly, and wolfwood who we see with him throughout the story. I personally would have liked to see a bit more from the girls, especially milly, but let me say I adore them so much. They are so swag.

Now let me get into wolfwood. This fuckin' guy has literally jumped to being my favorite fictional character of all time. 90% of the time when I cried it was because of this dude. I'm not good at explaining why I like certain characters, but his dynamic with vash just hit a certain way. The fact that he was able to click with someone like vash, who he both admires and dislikes because of his persistence with his ideals, is such a good way to show the difference in their characters. In the beginning wolfwood didn't care about shooting people if it meant he survived, and then near his death you can see him not taking the kill shots on his enemies. And one of my favorite things in media ever is seeing someone change because of another person. Also speaking of change, when wolfwood in the beginning is like "I don't think I'll ever change" when talking about murdering people and then later on vash is like "you can change" HDKFJSHD I'm in pain. How are they so good.

More on wolfwood, I think his death scene is one of the most beautiful death scenes ever. Like of course I didn't want him to die (tbh he had so many death flags that I was pretty prepared for it) but if I had to make him go out?? That's exactly how I would've done it. The confetti raining down, knowing that he saved his family, getting to finally treat vash to a drink even though the whole knives thing wasn't over yet.... like he got what he wanted! And I can't really complain about that because he deserved that (and so much more). But also wdym he died I just saw him in starbucks yesterday.

So yeah I think the connections that vash has with others is my favorite part of the series. The fact that he's more human than many actual humans. The way he loves humans with all his heart and believes in their existence. There's so much hope wrapped up in this funky little piece of media.

[wendigonamecaller]

Deadly Kiss.

Desc: Asher wasn't a bad person. She was quiet, well behaved, and had a gentle beauty about her that naturally made people flock to her. Asher was a good person, until she was given a reason not to be. 2002, she's only 22, never willingly been intimate with anyone, when police stumble upon her body in the Tennessee senator's home, a single gunshot wound to her head and a gun in her corpses grasp. She wakes up in hell, with a new appearance and powers, which present her with new opportunities, until she meets Angel Dust and becomes mixed up in Charlie Morningstar's hotel, unevitably becoming mixed up with Alastor.

Taglist: @sparrowrye

Pt. 3: Why Hide?

After around a week, Asher was settled into her room and Charlie had decided Asher would be a cook/stand in bartender when Husk wasn't wanting to work. But the job itself was pretty lax as the only residents were Angel Dust and Sir Pentious. Asher and Angel Dust could often be found causing slight trouble, the pair getting along quite well. Her bracelet had buzzed a few times since she'd left Midnight's place, but she still refused to answer the summoning.

-♡

Angel Dust was at work, the call Valentino gave Angel Dust didn't sound very happy which meant he would likely be gone all night. Asher sat at the bar with Husker, quietly sipping at a glass of tequila. Charlie and Vaggie were watching TV, and Sir Pentious was off doing Gods know what. Asher slipped in an earbud and turned on an animated show on her phone, resting her chin on her blackened hands which resting on the bar top so she could comfortably watch the show.

Alastor stepped into the parlor and began conversing with Charlie, his yellow grin in place as it always was. Just as Asher was taking a draw from her vape, a character said something she found particularly hilarious and she choked on the smoke before falling off of the barstool with a laugh.

She laid on the floor laughing her unholy ass off for a few minutes, making the others smirk at her enjoying herself. "Your freckles glow when you laugh." Husker pointed out with a chuckle.

Asher sat up and giggled once more, her black hand flying up to cover her oddly white grin. "Yeah, comes with my 'biology' I guess." She chuckled, settling back on the barstool. Suddenly, her phone began ringing and she hurried to disconnect her earbuds and answer the call.

"Hello?" She asked, only to be met by awkward breathing. When she pulled the phone away from her ear, she was met with a contact she didn't like seeing and quickly hung up before blocking the number.

"What was that about?" Husker asked.

"Just.. someone from my past." She says with a huff.

"If you don't like them why not have them dealt with?" The catish demon asked, his wings flicking.

"That's who I used to be. I killed him once and that's why we're both in Hell." Asher deadpanned, rolling her eyes and huffing a piece of black hair out of her face. She'd gotten comfortable, and without thinking slipped her trench coat off, revealing her bright white button up tucked into her black skirt. As well as her deer-like tail.

"What?" Husker asked, tilting his head confusedly and staring at the three behind Asher.

Asher turns, tilting her head as well. Charlie looked like she had stars in her eyes, Vaggie wasn't even hiding the fact that she was staring at Asher's ass, and Alastor's grin was still present, though his red eyes were wide and a soft blush coated his gray skin on his cheeks. "What has you all like a deer in headlights?" Asher asks, becoming self-conscious.

She covers her stomach in insecurity, until it finally dawned on her. "My coat-!" She yelps, looking like she was about to curl into herself from insecurity, but before she can allow the tears to flow at being exposed, Alastor is there with his own waistcoat being draped across her shoulders, shifting into a larger form to cover her from the others' eyes.

A sense of protection washed over her as Alastor stood behind her, his upper thigh brushing her black and silver tail. She melts into the security he offers, even if it may be false. He helps her slide her gray and black arms into the sleeves of his coat, his fingers lingering on her shoulder for a moment before stepping away.

She looked flattering in red.

"S-sorry.." she mumbled, keeping her head down and making sure her beanie was secured on her head.

"Don't be! But.. why do you hide your tail?" Charlie asked.

"Because I know how demons can be." Asher huffed

"She has a point." Husker said.

"Well then, that's the first thing we'll work on with you. After all, staff members also have to work on bettering themselves here. Isn't that right, Alastor." Vaggie said, seemingly growling Alastor's name.

"Quite." Alastor chuckled, rolling his red sleeves up to his elbows.

Asher didn't like the sound of that.