#the demons took over and now i have yet another post about him

[profoundbondfanfic]

Any destiel amnesia au fic recs to soothe my gentle heart, I read one au called two worlds apart and as much fun it was I'm also heartbroken 😭 and I want to fix it with another amnesia au where they are both are very much alive in the end, also maybe with a dash of fluff and tension?

Here are a few recs with fluff and a happy ending!

Basic Lessons in First Aid, Magical or Otherwise by stuffy_j (Explicit, 54k words)

Most people probably wouldn’t take the naked, heavily wounded man they found in an alley home with them. Most people probably wouldn’t also offer that man a place to stay and become his best friend after realizing he’s suffering from an intense case of post-traumatic retrograde amnesia. Most people probably wouldn’t then risk almost everything they know to save said man, and maybe save the world in the process. But then again, Dean Winchester, RN (with a specialty in supernatural care), has never been like most people. He may not have a magical bone in his body, unlike his brother Sam, but he’ll do whatever it takes to help. Even if Castiel has questionable opinions about Star Trek.

Here We May Be Free by FriendofCarlotta (Explicit, 39k words)

When Dean was eleven, he saw something in the ocean: a boy with blue eyes and iridescent scales. Almost twenty years later, a spontaneous detour after a hunt brings Dean and Sam back to the town where that encounter took place. And Dean can’t shake the feeling that Castiel, the owner of the local Mermaid Museum, looks familiar…

Memories Bring Back Memories (Bring Back You) by sobsicles (Explicit, 66k words)

When he wakes, he has no idea who he is. Not his name, what he looks like, or why he’s flat on his back, staring up at the stars littering the night sky. The first thing he learns about himself is that he has shitty instincts, especially if his first one is to protect the blue-eyed man currently stabbing someone in the face. Or, the story where two strangers can’t agree on much and know even less, but they’re both fairly certain that they’re in love.

Paper Moon by robotsnchicks (Explicit, 43k words)

By the time he hits thirty-three, Dean's given up on the apple pie life, accepting that a serious relationship isn't in the cards for him. But when he meets Cas everything falls into place. Now he’s happily married, hopelessly in love, and they’re about to buy their first home together. It almost feels too good to be true. It turns out it is. His world comes crashing down when he wakes to find that he’s been a subject in a virtual reality simulation gone wrong. All the years he thought he spent with Cas were actually experienced in less than a week. And when he gets out, Cas is nowhere to be found and nobody has heard of him. Ignoring the possibility that Cas may not be real, Dean sets out to find him and convince him that it’s worth giving Dean — and their relationship — a shot in the real world.

The Same Mistake, Again by zaphodsgirl (Mature, 43k words)

One night, after watching Dean pick up yet another girl while they're out at a bar, Cas heads to the local diner. Over the years his feelings of attraction have only deepened into something more, and he wishes desperately to go back to the time before he was in love with his best friend. His wish is granted in an unexpected way: he wakes up in the hospital the next morning with broken limbs - an arm and a leg- and a fractured memory with the last four years missing.

The Stars Will Remember by casblackfeathers (Explicit, 60k words)

Being a hunter was all Dean knew ever since his mother had been killed by a demon when he was four. Hunting, offing monsters, and then jumping to the next case was his life. Then he met the most alluring and breathtaking omega he had ever seen and spent the next five years loving the hell out of Cas, their life together filled with the domestic lovey-dovey stuff Dean had never thought he would dig so much. When a simple salt-and-burn goes sideways, it ends up with Cas’ memories stolen from him. Dean is left to pick up the pieces of the life they built together, his ‘make it up as he goes’ strategy to prove to his mate that Dean’s still worth a damn, his only chance at getting Cas back. He’s done a shitty-ass job at keeping Cas safe before, but he will pull out all the stops now to woo his mate again and stir the memories Dean knows are still there buried deep inside Cas’ mind.

The Story of You and Me by the_diggler (Explicit, 54k words)

Dean wakes up in bed next to a very human Castiel, and a journal in his own handwriting that tells him it’s two years in the future. The house looks a lot like Bobby’s, and Sam lives there too… He just can’t remember how they got from angels falling in the sky – to comfortable domesticity. While there is much in the journal Dean doesn’t remember, there is much of their story he’s always known. And as he settles into the routine of his new life and relationship with Castiel, it quickly becomes something he doesn’t know how to live without.

Unveil the Splendours of Your Heart by thefandomsinhalor (Mature, 68k words)

When a reporter asks Dean, a homeless man with a mysterious past, why he exclusively keeps close to the billboards and posters of a specific male model—the one Dean likes to refer to as the angel with spectacular blue eyes—in a moment of weakness, thinking it won’t change anything about his situation, Dean tells him the truth: it’s how he finds comfort and solace. Something that is difficult to come by. That is until the story reaches the ears of Castiel Novak, the model in question.

Whiskey & November by dothraki_shieldmaiden, FriendofCarlotta (Explicit, 188k words)

There is a place in L.A. where the richest of the rich can make their dreams come true. For an outrageous sum, they can hire an “angel” who is programmed to be exactly what they need: a stripper, a scientist, a temporary boyfriend. Most people don’t choose to question who the angels are, or where they came from. Sam Winchester is not most people. His brother Dean went missing in L.A. two years ago, and Sam has spent all that time trying to track him down. The trail leads him to a shadowy organization known as “Heaven” that coerces people into giving up their identities and personalities so they can be reprogrammed for Heaven’s purposes. Inside Heaven, trouble is brewing: two of the angels, Whiskey and November, are beginning to break through their programming. As they fall for each other and fight to remember who they are, they discover that they have an ally already working to bring down Heaven from within.

Not really amnesia, but they think they have it:

Found Family by Dizzybunny (Explicit, 55k words)

When Alpha Captain Castiel Novak returns to the US after being rescued from three years of captivity, he is amazed to find a family he doesn’t remember living in his house. Not just any family - his omega husband and pups. Dean had been told Castiel was MIA, and probably dead. Living in Castiel’s old house, raising his own and Castiel’s pups as a single father had been difficult, but he managed. Now Castiel is back. Can he fit into the life Dean has made? Can Dean adjust to having an alpha? Does Castiel want a husband he can’t remember?

White Lies & Winter Blues by PaperAnn (Explicit, 37k words)

When Castiel drives by a car wreck, he should’ve heeded the warning, ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions.’ He’s a nurse, it’s a record-breaking, cruel winter, and upon seeing the driver hypothermic and near-death—his instincts kick in. Cas doesn't think, he jumps into action to save the omega. Once the ambulance arrives, Castiel joins the ride. Then in the hospital room, he keeps a watchful eye over the omega's treatment and care. All under the guise of being ‘his alpha.’ Castiel’s plan was innocent, wishing for a quick recovery, followed by quicker exit. Except, he misses his shot. The omega awakes and the nurse beats Cas to the punch, with the declaration, “You’re lucky your mate found you in time!” causing all hell to break loose. There are no questions. A starry-eyed and love-struck Dean Winchester automatically believes the accident caused amnesia, that Cas is his mate. This wasn’t supposed to happen! Now entangled in his own lies—still reeling from the unexpected discovery they’re true mates—Cas feels helpless. He doesn’t know what the fuck to do! Besides...playing along. Paving his road to hell, one good intention at a time.

[confusedmothboy]

i swear to god being a floch fan is so exhausting because one side of the fandom refuses to see any depth in his character and hates him blindly cause hes an antagonist and the other side is all "eren was right" "get rumbled stay humbled" jagerist dipshits that act like floch was this chad amongst mortals and its like no. can we give him some depth please. hes not the spawn of the devil (well depending who you ask in canon uhhhh) and hes not sume ultra sigma alpha jagerist either. hes a secret third thing and that thing is a pathetic loser boy with a really fucking hot voice

in all seriousness though his character is so well written just to have people simplify his character really poorly and inaccurately on BOTH sides. ugh. let me have an intelligent conversation about him please

[onyourowndaisymae]

mistletoe mayhem

a/n: i wanted to get out a festive little piece before the holidays are over. sorry for the lack of posting-- i am so sleepy all the time. also i just got my wisdom teeth out so if this is nonsensical i do apologize. i am on several pain meds

characters + content: lucifer, satan, asmo, solomon, simeon x gn!reader

word count: ~1.3k

prompt: it's christmas at the demon lord's castle. drinks are flowing, music is blasting, and you're caught up in the fun of the party with everyone in the main hall. when you slip away to grab yourself another drink, however, you collide with another body in the doorway. who is that? and what's that above your head, dangling from the doorway... is that... mistletoe?

"Lucifer?"

colliding with the solid chest in front of you knocks some of the breath from your lungs. yet, you don't tumble to the unforgiving ground. you look up and see red eyes searching your face, gloved hands steadying you by the underside of your arms to keep you on your feet.

he breathes your name easily. "watch your step."

"my bad," you reply. you didn't even realize you were clutching the front of his coat until you let him go. lucifer's lips curl into an easy smirk as he crosses his arms.

you readjust your clothes and start to wander off with a polite nod, but his hand catches your arm again. "wait a moment."

"huh?"

his gloved finger points above you to the top of the doorframe. there, dangling above your head, is a bundle of mistletoe. you should have known lord diavolo would have the place decorated in such a way-- he'd been asking you for weeks about human traditions for the festive season. you must have told him about this one somewhere along the way. judging by the look on lucifer's face, he knows what exactly that leafy sprig means.

"mistletoe, is it not?" lucifer starts, then seems satisfied when you nod. "i owe you a kiss. if you'll allow it, of course." the smoothness of his offer makes your cheeks split with a delighted grin.

"i'd be offended if you didn't."

"and we can't have that, now can we? not during the holidays." and with that, his lips meet yours.

"Satan?"

a sharp swear hits your ears as strong hands catch you, gripping your shoulders with startling intensity as he somewhat forcibly props you back onto your own two feet.

satan's cheeks are flushed as he looks you up and down once more to make sure you're alright. his fingers find your shirt and dust you off once more for good measure.

"are you alright?"

"i'm okay," you answer, now secure in your own footing. "thank you for catching me."

"sorry for running into you in the first place."

there's a gap of silence. he shifts awkwardly on his feet, eyes flickering up above your heads to the top of the doorframe.

"is there something up there?" you ask. your gaze flits up above you to find a leafy sprig adorning the doorframe.

"if i'm not mistaken," satan says lowly, cheeks aflame and eyes darting from yours, "that's mistletoe. there's a human tradition where two people kiss if they're caught under it together-- i assume you've heard it?"

"i have."

there's another beat of silence where satan looks hesitant-- his body is angled towards yours, leaned in ever so slightly in interest, but his mouth doesn't move. the words won't come out. you can tell he's interested in the tradition, but he doesn't want to pressure you because of the tumble you almost took. you'd find it more endearing if it wasn't so silly.

"... do you want to give it a try? 'tis the season and all."

he lets out a breath you had noticed him holding and nods, scarlet in the cheeks as his fingers brush against yours. satan's lips find yours-- soft, grateful, melting into your touch as voices of your friends and family fade into the background.

"Asmo?"

"oh!"

two arms wind around your body, pressing you against him as the two of you fumble together lightly. you eventually find yourself unscathed and on your feet once more.

"sorry, hon, i didn't see you coming," asmo murmurs, fingers flitting over your form to help fix your hair and crumpled outfit.

"i'm sorry, too. i wasn't paying attention when i came around that corner. are you okay?"

"i'll be okay. now that i've got you alone, actually, i've been meaning to ask you about something."

a delighted little smile crosses his lips, and he takes your hands in his to coax you closer.

"anything, asmo. what's on your mind?"

"this whole mistletoe tradition solomon was telling me about, is it true? you really make out with someone under this plant? it sounds to me like one of the best human traditions i've heard in awhile."

"it's more of a kiss than a full make-out, but yes, sure, i do suppose it's an interesting tradition."

"and what's the plant look like?"

"uh, it's this leafy green little thing, usually tied up somewhere on the ceiling or in doorframes."

"like that?" asmo lifts a finger from your intertwined hands to point up with a devious grin. sure enough, above your head, you spot a sprig of mistletoe.

"you knew that was there, didn't you?"

"well i wanted to try out the tradition myself. and there's no one i'd rather do it with than you! so maybe i bumped into you on purpose to get you under here with me. is that so bad?"

as you find yourself leaning in to ring in the holiday season, you can't help but think maybe bumping into asmo under the mistletoe was a gift itself, even if it was a silly plot on his part.

"Solomon?"

"mc!"

your bodies bump together uncomfortably, and the two of you fumble together to stay standing. solomon's boyish laugh rings through the area, and you can't help but laugh a little yourself at the absurdity of almost bowling each other down on your way through the doorframe.

"are you alright?" he asks, giggles subsiding into a softness as his eyes scan you for any minor bruises or bumps.

"I'm alright. are you?"

"i am. better now that i have you alone."

"oh? and what is that supposed to mean?"

"did you happen to notice the mistletoe above us as you were walking this way?" solomon asks. your eyes drift upwards with his to see the plant hanging above your heads-- probably mistletoe, considering it's decorating the castle for the party, but honestly you'd never been close enough to know what it's really supposed to look like.

"not until now. assuming that's what that is."

"you think i'd lie about that?" he teases.

"oh, for sure. anything to get a kiss."

"ouch," solomon whines, pressing his hand against his chest to cover the emotional wound your words left. "i would never go so far as to deceive you. if i wanted a kiss, all i'd have to do is ask."

"that's true," you murmur, leaning in as he brushes his knuckles against your cheek.

silence.

"anyways," solomon starts, pulling away with a chesire grin and turning on his heel.

"solomon! you bastard! i thought you were gonna--!"

before you can protest further, his lips are on yours, grinning and kissing you senseless as he backs you up against that very doorframe-- to ensure you stay caught under the mistletoe, of course.

"Simeon?"

a gasp comes from the body you collide with, as sharp and unexpected as the collision you found yourself in. the body bumps into the doorframe with a muffled noise of surprise.

"oh, i'm so sorry! i didn't see you coming!" the apology is out of your mouth before simeon's fully steadied himself on his feet, but he's already chuckling jovially and reaching out to comfort you despite nearly tumbling to the ground.

"i'm sorry," he replies. "i should have been paying more attention."

he reaches behind him to adjust his cape, but his gloved fingers brush something caught in his hair and he frowns. you pull it out for him-- it's a decoration. leafy, green, christmas-y. you look above you to see the hook from which it hung in the doorframe now swinging empty after your collision.

"did i knock that over? i'll have to apologize to barbatos." simeon mutters. then, after a moment, "what is that?"

"mistletoe, i think."

"mistletoe?"

"it's a human realm plant," you tell the angel, twirling it in your fingers. "we hang it up around christmas time. it's for couples. when you stand underneath it together, you're supposed to kiss."

"oh," simeon answers quietly, cheeks heating up at your simple explanation. he looks pensive for a moment. "should i hang it back up?"

"huh?"

"well it sounds like a good excuse to kiss you, and i'm not one to let that chance pass me by. or can we just--?"

he gingerly slips the mistletoe from your fingers and holds it up above you, grinning bashfully. no more words are needed-- you answer the angel with a sweet kiss to mark the occasion.

[the-xolotl]

Morning Kisses

Alastor x gn!Reader

ღ Itty bitty snip !

ღ a/n: this was originally only a warm-up posted to a discord server but a comment from @theradioshusband made me want to post it as well, so thank him :33

summary: Sometimes it’s nice waking up before Alastor because you get some extra cuddles.

ღ TAGS: sfw, just kisses and fluff

It’s rare to ever wake up before he does, the man seems to either never sleep or a perfectly attuned internal clock for dawn. But there are days like today when you rise from your own slumber with his warm body next to you, even with an arm wrapped protectively around your middle. Alastor has you pressed up against his chest, nose firmly pressed against your neck around your pulse point area, he looked peaceful while he slept, almost innocent with relaxed features with a soft smile.

Slowly and gently, you turned over to face him. You didn’t want to wake him just yet. Wanting to admire the cute sight that you’ve been gifted with. However, once you had made the 180° turn his arms tightened around you and he buried his face into your chest. You had to bite your lip to get a giggle. Not very long ago Alastor himself had protested having shared living spaces, trying to convince you that having independence from one another would be better, except now even when he doesn’t admit it he enjoyed these opportunities to hold you. Show you some affection behind closed doors and away from prying eyes.

The deer demon isn’t much for PDA, public or otherwise. He showed affection in different ways, his own ways. But there came reserved moments like these where he indulged you, and himself, in sweet touches and whispered nothings. The moments you could live in your own bubble together and ironically made your own little piece of heaven here in hell. You could stay like this forever if you could, but alas, there are duties and responsibilities that you know Alastor is nothing less than punctual to.

With a gentle hand, you run your fingers through his currently messy red hair. Your nails traced the back of his ears making them unconsciously twitch. It’s then you hear a soft groan.

“Good morning, deerling,” you whisper, leaning down to deliver soft kisses to his cheek. This is your favorite way to wake him up; peppering him with kisses while he’s still sleepy enough to not stop you from smothering him. “You were slow to rise today,” chuckling lowly your lips travel down to his to peck him, “You have to get up.”

Alastor blinked the sleep out of his eyes searching for the clock. “Good morning, darling,” the low reverb of his morning voice seemed to echo in your own chest. His radio filter is usually off until he’s fully awake. A little treat you learned about when you started waking up with him. “Seems I’ve overslept today. You’re getting me into bad habits.”

He said it so matter-of-factly that it made you giggle. “What do I have to do you waking up late?” you brush a stray strand of hair from his face, “It’s not my fault I’m comfortable to sleep with, silly.”

And yet despite his remark, he still hasn’t unwrapped from you. Alastor wasn’t that complicated of a creature, one just needed to learn to read him. He’s used to hiding or lying about his own emotions, it came as natural as breathing and that included his feelings about you. It took a lot of effort to get him to his point but there was still a lot of work to do in the spoken honesty department. For now, you didn’t quite mind it.

He hummed dismissively at your words pulling you into an actual kiss. Tender, warm. A gentleness he’s reserved for you and you alone. It’s slow, with purpose and his hand is now cradling your cheek. His thumb caresses the skin of your face, the very tip of his talon gracing it sending a shiver down your back. But the kiss doesn’t deepen or become heated. It stays just as it is; innocent and soft. The kind of kiss that has you smiling against his lips and don’t want to pull away until you need air.

“Simply starting the day off the right way, dear.” And with a last kiss to your forehead, he untangles himself from you to get out of bed. You almost want to groan at the loss of contact but you know there wouldn’t be any convincing him to stay any little longer. He already woke up “late” by his standards. So instead you watch him as he dresses and fixes himself up in his usual dapper attire ready to go about the hotel as per usual.

“You can sleep in here longer if you wish, sweetheart. It’s still pretty early for you,” he offered coming up to the foot of the bed, his hand coming to rest atop your head, patting you. “But don’t sleep for too long. It’s not good for you to be in bed for so long.”

With that, he vanishes into the void. Not without his shadow lingering behind for a second longer, he grabbed the shadow of your hand that dangled off the edge of the bed kissing your knuckles before also scurrying away. You giggled to yourself thinking, progress.

© 2024 the-xolotl — all rights reserved. do NOT alter, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.

—

word dividers were done by ME with @ cafekitsune template — give proper credit if you use it.

[anachronismstellar]

Just in case no one asked yet: You could feed us, the like 3 WarPlane fans in a trenchcoat?

Mayyybe even some LQG POV? A little bit of "Why I want to fight him so bad?" with a pinch of misundertandings? 🥺

Oh. I just realized that all of the SQH gotta get them all asks I wrote in the Peak Lord POVs fjsbskdnsm

Anyway, WarPlane with a side of fighting and misunderstanding, right away! :D

Also a little bit kinda of a sequel to this post

Omg sorry it took so long but this one is a big boy fksnskdns I hope you like it <3

------

Shang Qinghua didn't show up next morning.

Or the other one.

Or the other.

Then he had to go on a mission, followed by another one, and when he blinked it had been weeks since that day in Shang Qinghua’s office.

So Liu Qingge decided to take matters to his own hands.

Because Liu Qingge wasn't stupid as Shen Qingqiu was so fond of calling him. He knew that he had a strong presence, and at any given opportunity, Shang Qinghua would run away from him as if Liu Qingge were a Demon.

Except.

Except when he had caught the other by surprise.

The scene kept coming back to his mind during training and during... Some odd moments.

During training it made sense. He kept chasing the rush of being thrown on the ground, excitement running through his bones at the possibility of finding a new sparring partner, making his heart race. It also opened his eyes for his weakness in hand to hand combat, a skill he had to confess he had been neglecting. Part because his sword training took so much of his time already, part because people hardly dared to walk towards him in an empty corridor, to dare punch him in a spar match would be unthinkable, apparently.

The other times that were a bit confusing. In the past days, he would be writing a report and the smell of ink would make him pause and think of strong arms pressing his hands against the floor. Or during their peak lord meetings, he would stare at Shang Qinghua, thinking how to drag him to training but instead of imagining an exercise routine his brain would get stuck on the memory of thighs embracing his waist.

He drew the line when the scene came up to him during his bath, making him hot all over even though he was using snow water.

BANG!

He barged into the room with sword in hand, ready to drag the other to the training grounds if needed to, being greeted by the rarest sigh of all times.

Shang Qinghua's office with no Shang Qinghua on sight.

"I-I tried to tell you, Liu-shishu, shizun is not here today," a girl wearing the white robes of the head disciples stopped by his side, panting, as if she had ran after him all the way from the rainbow bridge. "He's with the little ones, so please, if you want I can schedule-"

"Nonsense, I'm going to see him now," he turned to look at the kid, a bit impressed she didn't crumbled in fear by his glare. Although she seemed to be as tired as her Shizun, she had a lot of more spine by the way she put her hands on her hips now that she had recovered her breath, ready to scold him.

"Liu-shishu might be able to push his way through in other peaks, but here we do things by the book. You can either schedule an appointment or leave."

This is why he had wanted to see Shang Qinghua directly, he didn't have the patience to go through all the bureaucracy An Ding was so fond of.

So he took a deep breath, biting the inside of his cheek to not tap his foot at the kid just doing her job.

"Very well, when can I see him?"

She made a point of flipping her sleeves while passing by him to get to Shang Qinghua's desk, opening a small but thick booklet, flipping all the way to the end while humming. Then, with a smile that was eerily similar to Shang Qinghua's when he was about to scream at them about damage reparations, she said:

"He's free next month, on the third week, would that work for you?"

Liu Qingge squinted his eyes at her as he licked this teeth, making a tsk sound.

It felt as if she was lying. And at the back of his head he could hear Shen Qingqi dry chuckle.

"Nevermind," he turned around to leave the building, not bothering to wait for her reply. She wanted to play games and help Shang Qinghua hide from him? Fine. If words didn't work, he would use the good old intimidation.

"You!" He shouted at the first yellowed robe person he saw, pointing at them with his sword. "Where's Shang Qinghua?"

"Liu-shishu-" the boy tried to bow without stumbling on his feet while two disciples ran past them, pulling each other by their robes while whispering: "Liu-shishu? Really?!" and "Fuck yes I'm gonna get so much money-".

Honestly, cursing in front of your elders? The kids had no respect nowadays.

But he had no time to educate the youth.

"Where. Is. Shang Qinghua?"

The boy- because he couldn't be older than sixteen, stuttered while pointing at the west side of the mountain, slowly but surely trying to back away from Liu Qingge.

Not on his watch.

"Show me," he said as he put his sword away. It took him some minutes and a glare but he got the boy to start walking, guiding him all the way to a smaller house where he could hear children laughing, some of them running around a garden.

And in the middle of a huge group was Shang Qinghua, a low table set in front of him, surrounded by smaller ones as a group of kids seemed to be having a class.

Shit.

Before he could stop it, the An Ding disciple hurried to Shang Qinghua, whispering and then pointing his head at Liu Qingge's direction. And like candles being blown by wind, one by one, the kids started to quiet down, their huge eyes turning to look at Liu Qingge.

Was... Was he that scary?

"Okay, everyone, off you go. Class dismissed. And remember to finish your numbers today, I will check them!" Shang Qinghua said with a clap of hands, breaking the heavy mood with a bright smile. He helped some of the children clean up until an older disciple arrived, taking over the group.

Liu Qingge could feel he had ruined a precious moment. Realms, it might have been the first time he had seen Shang-Shixiong smiling, relaxed. And he actually felt bad when his theory was proved right by the way Shang Qinghua calmly walked towards Liu Qingge, his smile dropping as he tilted his head down, a deep sigh moving his broad shoulders.

"Liu-shidi," and right when he got closer enough, his usual too polite smile back on being plastered on his face.

"Shang-Shixiong."

"What can this one do for his shidi today?"

Liu Qingge felt his heart skip a beat before picking up speed. He shouldn't make him so tense, it was Shang Qinghua for Heavens sake!

Besides, he had thought about this for weeks. He had rehearsed lines and proposals, and he would never admit, but he even asked Mu Qingfang how to talk to Shang-Shixiong, he was ready, he-

"Fight me."

Maybe Shen Qingqiu had a point.

"I'm sorry?" Shang Qinghua blinked a couple of times before putting his hands up, waving them in front of him as he took a step back. "I'm sorry! Is this about the day in the office?! I'm so sorry shidi, I swear I am! Please don't-"

"I mean in a spar," he managed to spit it out, crossing and then uncrossing his arms, forcing his hands to stay down and relaxed. "This one is requesting his Shixiong to help him train in hand to hand combat."

Then he bowed, frowning at Shang Qinghua's surprised gasp. What was this with everyone thinking he was a brute?! He had manners! Has everyone forgotten he was from a noble family?!!

"Liu-shidi honors this one with such request, but I'm not good, really! It was uhh luck! I could never teach Liu-shidi in the matters of fighting-"

"Why not? Shang-Shixiong clearly has the knowledge, and I have just seen that he is a good teacher. Why you can't teach me your techniques?"

Shang Qinghua grumbled something he couldn't understand about changing points and skills, pressing his finger and thumb against the bridge of his nose as the other hand waved something to his side.

"Fine, Liu-shidi. You do have a point. But we are not going to go to do it at Bai Zhan Peak. I don't want this to be a big thing."

"Very well. Where should we meet then?"

"Tomorrow, their teacher will be back from their mission," he explained with a tilt of his head towards the house. "I'll have the morning free. We can meet at my house and use my garden, no one will disturb us there."

"I'll look forward to Shixiong's lessons."

They said their goodbyes, off to their duties. Liu Qingge again went back to staring at walls, tapping his fingers over his crossed arms, unable to focus on his disciples drills, deciding to go hunting to see if he could shake off his nervous energy to no avail. At night, he kept tossing and turning, and no meditation technique or set of exercises helped him to rest.

The next morning he felt as if he were a ball of condensed energy, ready to bounce and run towards An Ding Peak.

"Shizun? Are you okay?" his head disciple asked at some point during breakfast, a healthy distance away from him.

He finished his meal in less than three bites, leaving the table with just a "I'm going to An Ding Peak" as explanation, ignoring his Head Disciple calling for him.

And what if he flew instead of walking? He had an appointment with his fellow peak lord, no one would dare to comment on his eagerness.

"Liu-shidi, come in," Shang Qinghua greated him as soon as he set foot on the ground, waiting for Liu Qingge by the door.

The usual yellow robes were nowhere to be seen, swapped by a practical dark gray uniform, tighter to not get in the way of their fighting. And without the additional loose layers, it was impossible for Shang Qinghua to hide his broad chest and tonned thighs, strong enough to carry boxes and boxes of documents and parcels.

Strong enough to trap Liu Qingge and sque-

"I've set aside some clothing for you, so you don't dirty yours while we train," Shang Qinghua interrupted Liu Qingge unexpected thought, but still, the rest of the sentence echoed in his head. What was that?!, he through as Shang Qinghua walked them through the house until they reached an internal garden, lush grass covering the entire floor but for one patch of dirty right in the middle.

"Thank you," he took the clothing from Shang Qinghua's hands, looking around, doing his best to not stare at the other. "Where can I change?"

"There's a room right there, you can call me if you need any help."

Right.

No time to nonsense, he was waiting for this for a while now, he would learn as much as he could.

The offer for help wasn't necessary, the uniform was pretty straightforward to put on, nothing like Peak Lord clothing. He ignored the tingling down his spine when the picture of Shang Qinghua helping him undress came to his mind, leaving the room to face his opponent for the morning.

Shang Qinghua, with his legs in a split, stretching.

He felt his face warm up.

"Okay, shidi!" Shang Qinghua got up in a small jump, rotating his shoulders with a satisfying cracking sound. "Better start easy, I know you can handle, but hand to hand is a bit different than sword fighting. Now, stand up like this, good! Spread your legs a bit more- perfect."

They haven't started yet, and he was already sweating.

The first long minutes was just like any other martial class, Shang Qinghua helped him with posture, correcting his pose here and there. It was an odd sensation to have his usually skittish Shixiong touching him so freely, moving his body around without caring about Liu Qingge grunts or scared of Liu Qingge pushing back.

"Okay, this is for the basics. Do you remember the leg movement?"

Liu Qingge nodded as he pushed his hair out of the way, the strands sticking to his neck, itching his skin. Maybe that's why Shang Qinghua kept his hair up, because it had barely been an hour, and it felt as if he had been training for days.

They got into position again, Shang Qinghua letting him start the fight and run towards him to get tackled so Qingge could practice what he had learned. And, he understood where Shang-shishu was coming from by holding himself back.

But at the same time he was frustrated. He could feel under Shang Qinghua's skin a strength he had never felt from the other peak lord, an agility that took Liu Qingge breath away, and an intelligence to use Liu Qingge's own body and weight against him that he wished his disciples could see.

If anyone had told him that, of all the twelve peak lord's, Shang Qinghua was the one he would be considering to give lessons on his peak, he would have laughed at the person's face.

Now look at him, chest once more on the ground, wheezing as the air got knocked out of his lungs with Shang Qinghua pressed him down, fingers digging the back of his neck while the other arm hugged him by the waist, and powerful thighs hold down his legs.

"You're getting better each fight, Shidi," Qinghua gasped next to his ear, body sliding all over Liu Qingge's back. "You're going to master this in no time."

Liu Qingge could feel something shift, the air between them getting heated. Yes they're fighting, but he felt more as if he were about to face a dangerous creature instead of sparing with a fellow cultivator.

"Another round?" Qinghua's voice rumbled against his back, and Liu Qingge couldn't keep his eyes open, arching his back just enough so he could feel Qinghua's body pressed all over him. "Or we can take a break, we did good progress."

"No!" He used his legs to twist his body, their spar becoming more shoving and pushing than an actual martial fight. Then, in a moment of luck, Liu Qingge finally trapped Shang Qinghua.

Just like the first time they fought, they stayed frozen for a long moment, but this time with Liu Qingge on top, victory tasting like dirty and sweat. He realized that he should get up, their faces so close they were sharing the same air, Qingge's eyes caughting the glimpse of Qinghua's tongue.

His arms went numb and his brain got deafening quiet as he got just a tiny little closer, just-

Shang Qinghua raised his legs until they seized Liu Qingge by his waist, twisting their bodies again until Qinghua was on top, one hand immobilizing one of Qingge's legs by pushing it up until his knee was almost touching his chest, the other pinning both of his wrists to the ground.

"Seems like Shidi lost." And Liu Qingge was starting to think he had hit his head during their fight because... Who was this man? Where this confidence came from?!

And most importantly, why was it making him so- So!!

Oh.

Oh no.

"Is Liu-Shidi satisfied with the lesson?" Shang Qinghua smiled, and this time it was the furthest thing from his usual blank one. Oh, no, this smile was of a man who was about to have a feast.

And Liu Qingge was laying in a silver plate.

"Hmm. Liu-shidi did very well. This Shixiong thinks he deserves something nice for being such a good student," he said as he pressed his body down a bit more, tearing a moan from Qingge's throat. "What do you think, shidi? Would you like to have another round? Maybe somewhere a bit more... Comfortable?"

The line was cheesy, something straight out of one of his sister's books, and it shouldn't work, it shouldn't-

It shouldn't work but Liu Qingge felt himself nod, whispering "Yes" over and over again, moaning as Shang Qinghua threw him over his shoulder, carrying him all the way to his room.

And if he had gone back to more lessons later that week, and the week after that, well. He wouldn't be War God of Bai Zhan if he passed the opportunity of a good fight, right?

[yazmarina]

in my drafts

for the love circuit series

—that message wasn't for you but paul doesn't mind as long as you don't, either.

paul aron (f2) x gn!social media admin reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex, lewd photography, office sex, fingering, creampie, accidental nude sending, mild dirty talk

a/n: sorry i disappeared again!!! pls take this as my apology

It was supposed to be just pictures of him during the break. You expected innocent, somewhat average snapshots of how Paul spent his past two months. You knew he took that trip to Italy, attended his sister's graduation, did some training. It was your job to be at least a little updated on the drivers' whereabouts, in case the head of comms needed you to capitalize on it for content.

So when you received a few photos from Paul through iMessage of all his fall whereabouts, you didn't think much of it. You messaged him a few days earlier asking if he could send a few more unreleased pictures that he hadn't posted on his personal account yet, stating that it was for a post you were putting together for the Hitech Instagram. He was delayed in his reply, as usual, but that's something you expected. He was busy, after all.

Perhaps too busy to notice the outlier in the stack of photos displayed in your message thread. Everything seemed to be normal at first; Italian architecture, gym photos, the cheesecake he made. Typical day in the life photos.

And lastly, a photo of him in dim lighting, taken in front of a mirror, with nothing but shadows covering most of his naked body.

You stare at your phone, dumbfounded. Your first instinct is to wait to see if Paul has anything to say, an apology, maybe, or a half-assed excuse. Anything to indicate that he noticed how he sent you a full-on nude. You prepare yourself for the three dots that show he's typing, the frantic scramble to delete the photo from your exchange, but it never comes. Heat rises up your neck as you realize you're going to have to confront him about it. This was, after all, a professional exchange and you'd hate for HR to come knocking at either one of your doors.

-Paul, please review the photos you sent. Thanks.

You regret it as soon as you send it. Was that perhaps too snippy? Too callous? It was as embarrassing for him as it was for you, maybe even more. But come on, how hard is it to distinguish your nudes from your vacation photos?

The loud throb of your heartbeat reverberates in your ears as you wait, cursing under your breath as a full minute passes and then another. You lock your phone, getting up to pace around your room. You're most likely going to see him tomorrow as he'll be at HQ for sim work and other things and you just so happen to have a lineup of meetings at the very same time. You're going to have to face the fact that you'll have to look each other in the eye after you've seen the outline of his dick.

Wonderful.

You unlock your phone, resigning to just delete the photo from your side. You can claim plausible deniability or whatever legal term it is, if it comes down to it.

Just then, Paul starts typing.

You yelp, setting your phone down on the desk harder than intended.

You realize belatedly that you're holding your breath, fingers pressed into your mouth as if suppressing any more potential noises. He stops then starts again then stops, as if he's unsure of what he's typing out.

-I'M SO SORRY!!!! It was an accident I promise 🥹 Don't report me

-Please I'm so sorry it's totally my fault ______ 😭😭😭

-______ please I'm so sorry

Somehow, despite everything, this coaxes a chuckle out of you. Paul was always open and easy around you, and you know he knows you won't report him for an honest mistake. He's probably just red in the face right now, fighting his inner demons.

You type out a reply to ease his nerves.

-I'll just delete it off my phone so no one can say we were fraternizing inappropriately 🥲

The response from Paul is almost instant.

-YES please I'm sorry again

Your finger hovers over the photos when another message comes in.

-Unless you want to save it for a rainy day that's okay too

-I WAS JOKING its a joke I'm sorry I'm sorry

You groan, throwing your head back against the backrest of your office chair.

He's done this on occasion. Flirt. Compliment you on your hair, your outfit (despite it being the team uniform), your smile, even. You brushed it off as typical driver behavior. Nearly all of them had that kind of nerve about them, a confidence that only comes with driving cars that are closer to rockets than actual cars on the street.

Bringing the phone up to your face, you gingerly scroll back up to the photos Paul sent, opening the accursed photo. Your breath hitches as you take it in more carefully, the light cutting sharply between the shadows of whatever hotel room Paul was in. Your eyes trail down and your fingers pinch at the screen, zooming in.

"No! No, no, absolutely not," you admonish yourself, swiping the photo away and typing back a slightly crazed reply.

-Whoever that photo was meant for might not like it if I do

-

"________!"

You freeze on your way out the door from the conference room, Paul's figure jogging toward you from the other end of the hall. The presence of some execs and the head of comms looms from behind you and you quickly shuffle out of the way to let them pass, all of them greeting Paul as he sidles up to you.

"Hi!" You say a little too brightly, turning to Paul, arms coming up mechanically then stopping, your brain reminding you that a hug might be too awkward but standing around without greeting him in some way would be just as weird. A flurry of butterflies erupt in your stomach as Paul stops in front of you, his cologne coming off strong as always. Just the way you liked it.

"How's the meeting?" Paul asks, gesturing to the room. He's bouncing on the balls of his feet, a nervous habit he has that you've observed over the time you've worked with him. He has his hands shoved deep in his jeans, too.

You shrug, forcing out a laugh. "Same old, just going over social media plans and PR."

Paul nods, a little too eagerly perhaps. His eyes shift to the retreating personnel, all of them turning a corner, leaving you and Paul alone in the vicinity.

"Were you waiting for me?" You ask before he can say anything else.

Paul swallows. "Yeah. Look–"

"Paul," you cut him off, raising a hand between the two of you. "It's okay. It's no big deal. Happens to the best of us."

He raises an eyebrow at that. "Have you ever sent a nude to the wrong person before?"

Your cheeks flare up in a violent blush.

"Well, no. And keep your voice down," you berate lightly. Paul looks around and shrugs as if to say, 'Nobody's here'.

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "But what I meant was, like, messages are sent to the wrong people all the time, I'm sure you didn't mean any harm, and besides, no one else knows. I promise I haven't told anyo–"

"Okay." It was Paul's turn to cut you off. "Okay, I believe you."

He smiles at you good-naturedly, opening his arms and coaxing you into a hug. It takes you a second, but eventually, you let yourself laugh in relief, wrapping your arms around his strong frame.

"I missed you over the break," Paul admits, pulling away and holding you at arm's length. You blush again, masking it with a chuckle.

"Well, the break isn't over yet. We still have three weeks to go," you remind, your own hands coming up to settle on Paul's outstretched arms, making it look as if you're holding him in place. To anyone who didn't know, you two would look like a couple deep in discussion.

"At least you get to see me more," Paul offers with an easy smile. nudging you lightly.

You scoff. "I think I've seen enough of you, thank you very much."

A heavy silence settles over the two of you as you realize what you just said. Paul lets his arms drop from where they held you, an apology ready at your lips but Paul gets to it first. He runs a hand through his unkempt hair, blonde strands tugged between his fingers.

"You haven't deleted it, have you?"

No, you haven't.

"I was going to, but I got distracted with other things." Not entirely a lie. You really meant to do so, but thoughts you'd rather not share took hold and there were matters you needed to attend to. Matters that could only be solved with your fingers and a vibrator.

You should feel guilty, getting off to a picture of a coworker that wasn't even meant to be sent to you in the first place. Maybe you're terrible, maybe you should be fired, sued by the Aron family.

Memories of you gasping out Paul's name in the quiet of your room come flooding back and you pray that Paul doesn't notice the irregularity in your breathing.

"I'll delete it now, in front of you, so you can see that I did," you offer, fishing your phone out of your pocket.

Paul shakes his head, catching you by the wrist, his hand large and warm against your own skin.

"I mean if I was going to send it to anyone, it would have been you," Paul says lowly, as if afraid someone would hear him, despite the entire expanse of the hallway void of any people other than yourselves.

"Consensually, of course," Paul adds in a hurry, eyes widening. "If you wanted to receive them. It. Receive it."

Your eyebrows shoot up, your mouth curling into a smirk. "You have more you want to send?"

Paul's lower lip slips between his teeth and it seems the two of you are finally on the same page. You try to suppress the smile threatening to break out, clearing your throat and avoiding his eyes.

"Until when are you staying here?" You ask casually. You didn't mean 'here' as HQ. Here as in, in town, close to you.

"Next week," Paul replies, stepping closer. "I won't see you until Qatar after that."

"Shame," you mutter, tilting your head as you meet his gaze once more.

"Maybe," Paul begins, slipping his hand into yours and twining your fingers together. "I can add one more thing to my break to-do list."

"Now?" You ask incredulously. Paul nods immediately.

"You know that one storage closet inside the sim room?" He asks, winking at you.

"What? Paul!" You whisper-shout, but he's already leading you down the hallway. The two of you make a sharp turn to the right where big blocky letters spell out 'SIMULATOR' on the large double doors of the sim room.

You squint, immediately plunged into darkness as the only source of light inside is the curved screen, dimmed as well as it sits on standby.

"What if your engineer walks in? Your teammate? Doesn't he have a session soon?" You continue to protest, even when Paul gently pushes you toward the storage room door at the very corner. He flings the door open and you see that it's filled mostly with spare sim components and monitors.

"Babe, that's why they call it a quickie," Paul reasons, flipping the light switch on inside. The lightbulb offers little respite in the darkness and shadows still play along the lines of Paul's face. He shuts the door behind him.

"It doesn't lock? Paul, I swear–"

You gasp but barely any sound comes out as Paul presses his lips to yours, hands settling on your hips. He maneuvers you toward a shelf, pushing you against it and pressing himself fully on you.

You can feel how hard he is through his jeans.

"Did you like it?" Paul asks as he breaks away for a second. He kisses your jaw, tracing its outline as you sigh, your head falling back. He takes his opportunity to kiss along the column of your neck, his tongue smoothing over your skin.

"Did you get off to it?" Paul asks again and your breath catches in your throat. It's as if he knew all the dirty, deplorable things you did over that one picture.

"I know you did," Paul concludes with a breathy laugh, reclaiming your lips and driving a knee between your legs. You groan in response, grinding against his thigh while your fingers tug at his belt.

Paul pulls away and takes over for you, undoing his jeans and slipping them down to his knees. You silently thank whatever god is listening for the fact that you so conveniently decided to wear those easy cotton office pants, slipping them off in one quick swoop along with your underwear.

"I'm tempted to get on my knees right now so I can eat you out," Paul teases, hiking your shirt up and exposing your chest.

A snide remark forms in your brain but it's cut off when you feel the cold press of fingers on your clit. You clamp a hand down on your mouth as Paul gently flicks at it, feeling yourself getting wetter by the second.

"Maybe later after work," Paul says, rubbing harder. Your elbow spasms at the sensation, hitting the shelf behind you.

"Ow, fuck," you curse, meeting Paul's eyes. You two burst into muffled laughter just as Paul slips a finger in.

"What happened to a quickie?" You demand, hips moving along with Paul's hand. He adds a second finger and you whine, fingers digging into Paul's shoulders.

"I have manners," Paul informs with an easy smile, face impossibly close to yours. You can see the shift in his bright blue eyes. "I need you wet and ready for me, no?"

You bite down on your lip, eyes rolling into the back of your head as Paul curls his fingers inside you. A shiver runs through you and you feel yourself clenching down and around his digits.

Paul retracts his hand, much to your dismay, but you don't get to complain before Paul kisses you again, rough and heated. His tongue dances against yours and you grip at his Hitech team kit for purchase.

"Bend over," Paul commands and you're more than happy to oblige, turning around to do just that.

You brace yourself against the shelf behind you, gripping at the wood as you lower the front of your body. Paul grabs your hips and your back arches almost automatically. You can feel him pressing up against you and you sneak a peek behind you to see Paul with his phone in hand.

"So I can 'accidentally' send you another one," Paul jests before slowly sinking in. You whine, head dropping down between your shoulders. The thought of him documenting your little tryst sends a shiver up your spine which only intensifies as Paul grabs one side of your hips. He sets up a hard, steady pace that has the shelf in front of you creaking.

"Paul," you gasp out, your whole body shuddering at the force of how hard he's fucking you.

Both of his hands grip at your sides now so you can assume his phone has been put away. You try to stay upright which proves challenging considering Paul is ramming into you ferociously.

Contradictory to it all, you feel the soft touch of fingers through your scalp, smoothing over your hair. In a moment's turn, your head is yanked back as Paul tugs at your hair, arching your back even more.

A garbled sound escapes you, part moan, part sob as the sting in your scalp shoots straight down to your core, pushing you ever so closer to your release.

"The social media person," Paul begins through gritted teeth. "Always so pretty behind the camera. Making me do trend after trend. I'd do anything for you, baby."

You mewl in response, reaching back to grip at Paul's wrist, pushing back against him, urging him to go faster. Paul gets the memo.

"Funny how that photo was taken only because I was about to jack off to the thought of you," Paul continues. "You sent me a message and I was missing that pretty face of yours so I went through your Instagram. Looks like you had fun in Mallorca, tiny swimsuit and all."

"Sorry, baby," Paul says close to your ear. "Couldn't help it."

"Inside," you plead. "P-Please, I'm close. N-Need you to cum inside me."

Paul merely grunts, letting go of your hair so he can pull you flush against him. His thrusts grow erratic, barely pulling out of you each time. He pulls you back to him, your back against his front as he bites down on your shoulder.

"Yes, yes, right there." Your voice comes out raspy, walls squeezing around Paul's throbbing cock. He reaches over and resumes his movements from a while ago on your clit and you yelp, hips spasming pathetically.

You cum with Paul deep inside you, his groans filling your ear as he follows soon after. He stills and pulls you even closer to him, arms encircling your torso. He kisses the spot where he had bitten you, pressing his lips almost reverently to the indented skin.

You're both breathing hard and you're perfectly content to stand around while the two of you gather your bearings. But Paul momentarily disentangles himself from you and reaches down. You see him pull his phone out from his jeans from where they've presumably fallen down to his ankles.

"Smile," Paul prompts, his lips planting a soft kiss behind your ear as he angles the camera toward the two of you.

He snaps a blurry photo, just in time to capture your hand coming up to rest against his cheek as he grins into your skin. Emboldened by the somewhat artsy, flirtatious nature of the photo, you turn around and land a proper kiss on Paul's lips, savoring each second his tongue passes over your mouth.

"Send all the photos you want," you whisper, smiling up at him.

"Or we could just take them together," Paul offers, kissing the tip of your nose.

[razzle-n-dazzle]

- hi ! 💌,,

ISTG you’re writing is so well done and creative I had to contain myself from like spam!!

I hope you’re still taking request and if you’re not that’s totally cool, I’ll wait ‘till next round.

Adam reincarnates in hell and oh, would you look at that? the s/o is the only one trying to help and not making him feel worse that he already is. (i just need wholesome content, exam week is killing me rn).

AGAIN, love you’re writing thx for reading so far!

ᯓ★ Let's Give This Another Shot (and not fuck it up this time) Sinner! Adam / Sinner! Reader | Drabble

‗ content / trigger warning: fluff, swearing, Adam being Adam, not proof read (we die like Adam) ‗ author's note: this is for everyone who's dealing with exam weeks, it sucks but I believe in all of you any you're going to kill those exams! (don't let them kill you!). Also thank you so much for the compliments Anon <3, I write for the people and myself, so I'm glad everyone is enjoying the crazy shit I've posted here!

ᯓ When you fall from grace, it's not a pleasant feeling; That Adam knew - or at least he thought he knew - well enough from hearing about Lucifer falling, hearing the horrific things the others whispered about it, mentioning it in passing before the thought disappeared and dispelled into the air as though Lucifer had never held a place in Heaven. As though he was nothing that what he was now, demonic figure that wore a crown made out of skeletons and bones fashioned to mimic horns. Adam never cared about the stories that were whispered, about the horrors he sometimes heard through passing, about Sera recalling how she heard Lucifer scream on the way down, about how Michael watched with horror as Lucifer tried to shield Lilith and himself, about how Gabriel heard his pleads and couldn't do anything; No one could save him from the fate that had been weighed on his shoulders as soon as he had fed the apple to Eve. And partly it was because Adam blamed Lucifer for ruining his paradise, for infecting the mind of both his (ex) wives and causing him grief and pain. Dying alone is almost just as unpleasant as falling from grace; almost.

ᯓ You see, while Adam had died alone on Earth, at least his soul went to somewhere pleasant and he was able to continue living; To make a name for himself and, he guessed, make some friends and live a rather worriless and carefree life in the clouds. He was able to have fun, rock out, and be known as the first human soul ever being able to reach Heaven - that was something not even Eve managed to do, and he took it with pride! It was his title. It was partly who he was. Maybe it was all he was. That much became more clear to him when he found himself waking up in Hell again, the stabbing pain of a dagger striking his back still their along with the weight of his wings. At first, he had thought he managed to survive the assassination attempt, that Lute had just left him in Hell on accident or because she thought he was dead. It caused some sort of pride to well in his chest, a flame that sparked his need to go boost and scream at the top of his lungs - he had survived an angelic weapon! He was immune! He was the strongest angel there was, because Sera would totally fall and die in a sad crumble after being stabbed with angelic metal! He was . . .

ᯓ And that's when Adam happened to pass by a mirror, or well more of a reflective glass on the street of Hell (as he walked, not questioning the odd ball looks he got), and that's when he saw it; What looked like a stranger to be staring back at him, engulfing and taking over his reflection like they owned it, like it was there own. That wasn't him! Well, it looked like him, he could admit that, but it wasn't as sexy or as handsome as him! The reflection would copy his movement, snarling as he did and grinning all the same. With his same fluffed up hair and piercing eyes, the reflection wore no mask yet still held the horns of his all the same; Even the way they slowly curled back before dipping down, forming and L for the gold spikes to rest at the end. The reflection wore his exterminator uniform, yet it was the darker version with the yellow having somehow been dulled and deepened and faded out all at once. His wings were still golden, still tucking at his sides from under his arms all the same, though there was no halo to accompany them this time. And Adam almost wanted to laugh, maybe it was hysteria or maybe it was disbelief, yet he watched to cry and laugh and break the glass all at once; Denying that this was his fate, being unable to stomach that he, First Man Adam, was not only double dead yet in hell. Hell! The first man cannot be in hell, he had created everyone on Earth; All of them came from his nuts and in turn all of them should be praising the fucking land he walked on because if it wasn't for him he wouldn't be here!

ᯓ And yet the Reflection looked back all the same, teasing him with a distorted grin; Like it could feel his distress in the way he curled his fist, pulling back before he slammed it against the glass. It gave a crack, a small one at first, before completely shattering. Adam could care less what shop or business had that glass, he could care less how he effected them or how he was going to be painted in Hell, because this was some crazy mistake! He was not supposed to be down here and he was not going to stand for some stupid mistake that happened because some small crazy bitch decided to back-stab him! Literally! And yet, if Adam wanted any of the answers he so desperately craved, he would have to suck in some of his pride and trudge along to the damn Hotel and talk to the residence who had taken his life. It would take him a while before he accepted such a fate, taking the chance between deciding and doing to walk along the Pride Ring before stumbling into the wrong town and being chased out by crazy demons who wanted to bite him! Maybe even eat him . . . What crazy place is this?!

ᯓ When Adam had begrudging and reluctantly knocked on the new Hotel door, which he would never admit to stopping and marveling at for a second, he would feel that ever irritating dread weigh in his stomach. Who wouldn't feel such a feeling after coming to the front door of a group of people you had tried to exterminate only, Adam didn't know how long, prior! Maybe, silently, somewhere inside Adam knew if he were in their shoes, having faced what they had, he wouldn't accept him either; He would throw him to the curb. Yet, he didn't exactly like that thought, and it wasn't very on brand, so he shoved it down and away and deep until all the could think about is: How in the hell would they not accept me? I'm Adam, I'm the first man! And yet when the door opened, allowing Adam to come face to face with none other than Vaggie, he felt that dread creep in a little. But, not enough to stop him from greeting Vaggie in a less that desirable way, "What's up Vagasaurus?" The sneering comment left his mouth, "I love what you did with the place. You know, it looks slightly less like a destroyed pile of Sh-" Yet the door would only slam in his face before Adam could finish his thoughts or his words; Leaving him standing outside, a tad awkwardly, waiting for the doors to open again. He, also, would never admit giving a glance behind him, making sure no one was standing there to watch him standing in front of the doors.

ᯓ "Vaggie, who was that?" Charlie would call to her girlfriend as she walked away from the door, coming towards where Charlie sat on the floor organizing new activities that everyone could do. All while Nifty rushed around nearby, cleaning Sir Pentious' and Dazzle's memorials in the new Hazbin Hotel. She muttered to herself quietly, not bothering Angel and Husk, who sat at the bar. "No one important." Vaggie would mumble, not being able to catch her tone before it could reveal that it was someone less than desirable. Possibly another sinner choosing a path of redemption after the last extermination! Which the thought caused Charlie to gain a burst of energy, barreling onto her feet so quickly that she knocked around the carefully organized slits of paper on the floor. Vaggie tried to protest, saying it was truly no one at the door and Charlie should just leave it alone! But she was never a really good lair, "Oh calm down Vaggie, I'm sure it's no one bad!" Charlie would grin with a wave, her hand touching the crisp and cool metal of the door handle before swinging the door back open. "Hi, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! How can I-" And yet her words fell flat as soon as her eyes were locked onto Adam's - who quickly spun around, pretending like he hadn't just been looking behind him - and was also welcomed by his light groan of annoyance. "Oh fuck me." ". . . help you." Charlie's voice flattened, dropping as her eyes widened. You know, she's never felt this shocked to see someone at the steps of the Hotel before since Alastor had came along without warning.

ᯓ "Adam?!"

ᯓ "BITCH CAN YOU NOT SHOUT MY NAME?!" Was the next words that were exclaimed out of the ex-angel, the now outcast, as he seemed rather eager to push Charlie inside of her own Hotel and walk in after; Quickly shutting the door as though there was someone outside waiting and stalking him, watching him with all their attention. "Hey no, you cannot just let yourself in here this isn't Heaven!" Vaggie was swift to march her way over to the two, seeing as Charlie wasn't doing anything to discard of Adam she might as well do it herself! No way was she going to let some two-timing exorcist angel not only push her girlfriend around yet also push his way into the hotel. Who did he think he is? And yet Charlie waved out a hand, stopping Vaggie in her tracks. There was confusion, and the two at the bar would turn their heads, before scowling seeing the fallen angel. Adam was sure he could hear Angel's accented voice loud and clear shouting out, 'oh what the fuck is this bullshit!' before Charlie began to talk to him again in a rushed fashion; One he remembered quite well during the meeting that Lucifer subbed her in for instead of coming to it himself, and he was still annoyed by her voice. "What are you doing down here? I thought you-! You know . . . " Charlie rushed out, trying to make it quick as though the others at the hotel would jump and kill Adam again with no remorse, finishing the job that clearly didn't stay permeant the first time; And, honestly, Adam wouldn't put it above anyone here to do that. Adam, who had been picking at his teeth with his pinkie finger, would turn away from Charlie and shrug his shoulders, "Yeah, well, I fuckin' did and ended up down here for some fucking reason, probably a mistake and mix up of souls. I'm sure you have plenty of those down here, pft!- I mean who else would want to stay in this charity case!-" "We're not entertaining you Adam!" Vaggie would cut off the ex-angel, causing his interest to peak over at her. Though he relaxed quickly enough, maybe too quickly seeing as Vaggie had drown out her own weapon and that . . . nasty little creature stood beside her with the dagger made out of angelic metal; Now that little one-eyed demon could give Adam the creeps, maybe even a little (lot) fright, but not Vaggie. "You know, I thought were all trying to redeem souls in this junk box of yours." Adam scoffed, quickly crossing his arms with a tilt of his head. "Are you fucking discriminating against me wanting to return to where I rightfully belong just because I was an angel before this? Wow, that's a low blow, especially for someone light you." Adam's voice dripped with sarcasm mixed with malice, maybe even still a little pride. "You literally tried killing up like- 2 weeks ago!" Vaggie would gesture to the side, as though trying to compare time to the length of her arm. "Oh shit it's been too weeks?" Adam paused, thinking about it yet drawing a blank and shrugging in result, "Shit, didn't know, pft! That shit must still be fresh for you then, huh? Well, let me remind you all that you weren't the ones who DIED!-"

ᯓ "Adam?" Your voice would slip out into the common space of the lobby of the hotel, honey sweat to Adam's ears; Filling them with a melody that could match the songs of Heaven, running down his spine with the comfort he didn't know he needed until now. But even then, you knew he wouldn't break his 'tough man' exterior until you managed to snag him along, away from the prying eyes of everyone else. "Holy shit, hey Babe!" Adam was quick, rushing past and slightly pushing Charlie out of his way to make his way over to you, over to his love. "What the fuck are you doing in a dumb like this? I thought you said you had your own fucking spot near Cannibal Town!" - It had been the only reason why he had tried traveling to that cursed town, even while knowing its residents might try and take a bite out of him or his wings. He craved for the familiarity of someone in this new world, as he had never felt this vulnerable since his first days on Eden; Earth. God's Earth. "Babe?" A chorus of confused, slightly concerned, and baffled voices followed as Adam came to your side, swinging an arm around your waist and instantly drawing you closer. You swore he was fighting off the urge to flick off the others, a casual fuck you for trying to push him off and out. You could feel their eyes as you leaned up to pepper a kiss into Adam's shoulder, to which he squeezed your waist slightly tighter, adorning a snicker upon his face. "Wait, wait!-" Vaggie started, taking a staggering step forward as her arms laid limp besides her. One of her eyebrows were cocked up, her eyes narrow, "What do you mean Babe?" Your name left her lips, "Don't tell me you're dating that fucker!" She would soon exclaim, tossing her hands out as they finally regained the life they had lost. To which you would turn towards her confused, and then remember oh yeah . . . the battle. The one you hadn't been present for though heard about through Channel 666 News; In all honesty it's why you had came here, to the Hotel, to see if you could try and get to Heaven and find Adam again - praying he didn't actually die but was taken back to Heaven to heal or was revived in some way. "Uh, yeah. Adam's my boyfriend-" You would start with a wavering smile, nerves tugging at the edge of your lips. "Oh, this couldn't have gotten worse." Angel would groan, slamming his head down onto the bar countertop, acting like a disappointed parent; Silently telling you that you could have done better. To which you placed a hand on your hip, about to tell Angel off, only to be cut off by Husk tsking and shaking his head, "I would not put you as an Angel and sexist fucker, but whatever rows your boat." His tone came off dry, uninterested, and a little hostile. And with Charlie's silence, you couldn't help but feel the weight of everyone's words a little heavier.

ᯓ And Adam noticed that, with one glance down at you and your face, his wings would flare defensively and his glare was snapped back at the other demons. He couldn't care less that they had been talking shit about him, he couldn't care less on how they saw him or the reasons they thought you could do better than him; They shouldn't care about whether or not someone was out of their friend's league if they were clearly happy with the person! That, Adam knew - or maybe he believed it more. "Hey, what your fucking mouths!-" He would start, trying to draw you away from the others. Sure, he was no longer an Angel, but he was sure as hell he could take any of them in a fight anyways! And yet, his anger was snuffed like a candle as soon as you placed your hand on his chest, gently pushing in and pushing him back. The breath of ire was caught in his throat, not even being able to reach his lungs, as he glanced down at you, noticing the spark that you had seemingly stolen right out of his chest and placed in your eyes. He knew your reservations of fighting with friends, or with anyone in general, so he couldn't help but feel pride swell up in his chest watching you stand up for yourself, for you and him: "I will not let you speak about me, nor Adam that way!" You defended, shooting a star through your eyelashes that the group; Who seemed just as taken aback as Adam had been before the warmth spread from his chest. Vaggie would scrunch her face, much more concerned that irritated or disappointed, but also all of that at the same time. Your name slipped from her lips, "You can't be serious! He's . . ." She stumbled for a moment, trying to grasp her words, "He's led genocides on Sinners all over Hell! He's like really gross and he doesn't respect people. He's a douche and a dick!-" "Dick master," Adam would correct Vaggie just to piss her off, earning a slight jag in the gut from you and a snarl from Vaggie. Vaggie, who, tossed out her hands once more, yet pointed at Adam this time, "See what I mean?!"

ᯓ "And tell me how you felt when you first lost your divinity?"

ᯓ The question lingered in the room, drifting and sticking in the air, as Vaggie stared at you with disbelief; Her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide, and her stance rigid. You noticed how Charlie grew nervous behind her, how she seemed rather uncomfortable in the atmosphere that been created in the room since Adam had arrived than you. She would place a hand on Vaggie's shoulders, attempting to comfort her, yet failed to pick out any words to say in response. "It's hard enough to leave somewhere you've called home," You would continue, frowning, "To be tossed out like you had meant nothing, like one mistake had deemed you unworthy despite everything great you have done in your life. Vaggie! . . . out of everyone, I would have thought at least you would understand something like that." Seeing as she had gone through the same process herself, yet had always had Charlie there by her side to walk through everything with. Was she implying that Adam didn't deserve the same because of what he had done? Sure it was crude and cruel, but everyone deserved another chance to mistake their wrongs and that was what this hotel was about; And you voiced such concerns to not just Vaggie but to Charlie as well. What makes Adam so much different from Lucifer, or say another Fallen Angel that managed to wind up down here? What makes him less worthy to be redeemed? What made him less of a human soul as say Angel or Alastor? Everyone fucks up in their life and as long as they're trying to better themselves, understanding what they did wrong and why it was wrong, they should be given a chance!

ᯓ It wasn't long before Charlie said that everyone should take a break, and as such you would lead Adam away from the crowd of people and up to your own room in the Hotel. You could feel Vaggie's eyes linger, you felt like she wanted to say something yet let her words fall short before they were ever given a chance. But, even if they had, you were too pent up to even discuss anything logically with her at the moment. And you think she could feel or at least tell and that's why her words fell short, yet you would never know - you're not Vaggie nor would you ever think like she does.

ᯓ You and Adam found yourselves in your bed after settling some matters, such as a change of clothing for him and whether or not you wanted to try and make the trip back to your apartment today; Luckily you had some of Adam's old T-shirts and joggers you had stolen from him from one of the few trips where Adam had snuck you into Heaven - and yet on the same note, either of you felt like going downstairs to face anyone to leave to your apartment. So, with not much to do, you set the TV on as background noise and brain fuzz as you snuggled up to Adam's side. You felt as his claws, at first, scratched gently at his side, pairing with a kiss on the forehead, and then they began to tap the flesh there; Like you were some little drum that made no noise, yet Adam continued until he switched to rubbing his thumb against your hip. "What's wrong, Adam?" Concern dripped from your lips, forcing Adam to draw his eyes away from the mindless television and down to meet you, and your eyes. He had known your attention had been up at him for a while, at first admiring his face (as you didn't get to see it much) yet it had shifted to concern the more he played with the plush flesh of your waist. He wondered if you could tell he was nervous from the start. Adam's eyes would falter and glance off to TV again, his words causing a lump in his throat as he tried to play through them; Trying to find the best combination to spew out instead of talking without thinking - vomiting whatever first came to mind and not thinking about it later. And maybe you could tell the trepidations that filled his head too; Seeing as you shifted your position from his side, pushing yourself up, and instead onto his lap, effectively blocking his vision of the television. Your hands rested on his chest, something so natural at this point yet something that still caused Adam's lungs to halt for a minute and for his stomach to flutter. Even so, he would give you a curious glance up and down, trancing the curves of your body with his eyes as he has done countless times before - yet every time, you managed to take his breath away. "If you wanted to fuck, babe, you could have just said so!" The snarky remark left his lips, meeting your amused yet disapproving face. He knew that's not what you wanted, yet he couldn't help but entertain yourself when you were basically straddling his waist; As such, his fingers would drag along the calf of your leg before his hands would trail up your thighs before tailing back down and up once more. He saw the flutter in your breath, yet you tried to keep your composure. Even if Adam was making it ever so hard.

ᯓ "Adam," You would start, your tone causing Adam to stop caressing your thighs. It stuck his eyes to yours, and he couldn't look away no matter how much his nerves pulled at him to. "I want you to know, no matter what happens . . . I'm here for you, okay? We're in this together. You're not a solo act anymore, we're a duet . . . or, well, more a duo act." Your words sunk down into Adam's skin, they infected through his lungs and ran to his heart before infecting all his blood and his veins. His hands, which had ran up to hold your waist, gave a gentle squeeze as he swallowed down the saliva that built up in his suddenly dry mouth. A duo act? Sure, he knew you two were dating, that you had been for a while, yet even then he had a silent thought in the back of his head that you would leave him, much like the others; So he never considered himself no more than what he had: A soloist. First Man Adam! . . . but now he was able to add being 'Yours' to his list with some sort of fire-like confidence; Burning and bright. It made his heart catch fire, even more so when you would stretch out lightly and lean down to lay down on his chest; Your warmth infecting all of him you touched, allowing his arms to wrap around your back and for his wings to fluff out and wrap around your frame. It was like he wanted to shield you from the world, shield you from Heaven, shield you from everyone and anything that wanted to hurt you. Sure he had the urge before, but now? . . . "You heard that big man?" Your voice broke through his thoughts, your teasing smirk had him fighting for a breath. You would playfully nudge his shoulder, "You're stuck with me, I'm stuck with you're, we're stuck together so you better be getting used to it! I'll fight for you, you fight for me, and we'll get back to that stupid place that outcasted you in the first place!" But he would like to stay here, with you, forever. "And we'll show Charlie and Vaggie that it can be done and that even if you fucked up you have a good heart in you! . . . Because I know you do under all the gunk." And your laughter had never sounded so sweet, and you touch has never felt so soft and loving.

ᯓ A duo act, huh? With you? Adam could get used to and stand behind that thought; Perhaps, even after all this time, he wanted nothing more than to hear those words, or well the meaning of those words, from your mouth since the start.

ᯓ But even then, with the emotions that swelled Adam's heart with nothing but pure love, he couldn't help but nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck. Your scent filled his nose with a warmth he missed, the soft skin of your neck flushed against his smirking lips, a feeling he longed for and couldn't forget. You were perfect, you always had been! "Fuck, Babe, when you say pretty shit like that, it's hard not to fuck you right here and now." Adam would groan before a loud cackle left his lips as soon as you smacked his back. All too used to his ways, you couldn't do much yet shake your head against Adam's shoulder, like a parent scolding their child for saying something offensive. "You ruined the mood Adam!" The huff escaped your lips, it hit Adam's neck and made goosebumps spring up his arms. "Again!" And yet, you didn't protest as Adam tossed you both into your sides with a fever, still cackling as though this was the funniest joke in the world - and you couldn't deny, you loved the sound of his laughter so much. Even as his stubble would tickle your neck as he did so, causing you to start laughing soon after and trying to push his head away from your neck. "Adam! Oh my god, Adam stop that tickles!" You gasped between breaths, struggling to push your boyfriend away as he found joy in your lighthearted misery. Though he would only curl around your frame, not answering your desperate calls of a truce and a stop, and trap you in his arms and wings with no remorse. "You're stuck with me Babe, you said it yourself! Now come here, let me kiss that pretty fucking face of yours until you can't breath!"

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[mintaikk]

Shadowpeach Things I think about A Lot

Note: My knowledge of season 5 is very limited (only seen first 2 eps, and some spoilers). Do not say any spoilers in comments or reblogs. If you want to avoid spoilers completely, I suggest you don't read this

-Peng said it themselves. "Could Wukong do anything that could break his hold over you?" or something like that. But Macaque's entire world was Wukong

-Macaque's dream was spending a peaceful forever with Wukong

-"You were a villain like 5 minutes ago!" Nothing there, but this was when they were having that screaming match and I burst out laughing when I realized that's what Wukong said. He was tho. From s4 to s5, bro went from trying to kill him to living on his mountain again

-Oh, that. "This room(?) has been my home just as long as yours." That's true, but my guy, don't you have like a dojo or smthn? Can't you just live there? Or do you just secretly miss Wukong and want to live on FFM to be closer with him?

-AND WUKONG DOESNT FIGHT BACK EITHER OR ANYTHING. He just sighs and accepts it

-OH YEAH THAT. Macaque sleeps on the same GOD DAMN tree that he and Wukong used to sit at. There are so, so, so many trees on FFM, yet he chose that specific one

-Wukong wanted to spend the remainder of his life holding hands with Macaque

-Correct me if I'm wrong, but in old China, a man giving another man a peach was a sign that they felt romantic love for them. Wukong and Macaque's hole thing is peaches

-"Yeah, because you always eush to my rescue." Wukong believed that Macaque never saved him, but from what we seen in s5, he does. Maybe he always has and Wukong's just never noticed, or maybe Macaque took that to heart and is trying to make up for it

-THE GOD DAMN SLOMO SHOT WHEN WUKONG WAS GOING TO SAVE MK

-Macaque calling Wukong "cute" in the s4 special

-When we first see the ink demons of Wukong's past, one of them was Macaque chained up while struggling and crying. Whatever happened there, it still haunts Wukong

-"I don't trust anyone that isn't standing here right now." WUKONG STILL TRUSTS MACAQUE AFTER EVERYTHING, MACAQUE EVEN PERKS UP AT THAT. And right after this scene, Macaque sacrifices himself to save Wukong. I think Wukong saying that really stuck with him. Maybe that's why he was a lot more helpful this season; Wukong still trusted him, and he didn't want to lose that

-When Wukong was getting the circlet put on him for a second time, Macaque didn't even hesitate when he saw that Wukong was in pain and immediately sprung to help

-Ik it's been talked about before, but the fact that Macaque thinks Wukong killed (and that he was about to again in season 3 when he was literally choking him) him but he still helps him when he can and smiles softly at him and goes out of his way to see him and stares in awe when he sees him coming to help MK and still accepts his peach offer (symbolism for rekindling friendship) and smiles when Wukong says "we" instead of "I" and gets sad when he sees the memory and realizes he wants to rekindle their relationship and crashes a beach party just so he could be with him (Copy and pasted from old post

-This specific art piece that Alejandro Saab commissioned and used for autograph signings

-Macaque literally looking away and smiling in this shot bro looks like a schoolgirl with a crush 💀

-Wukong was shown to help Macaque tie his scarf when they were still friends and in the shots of their past, Macaque's scarf is always tied. But now that they're not friends, his scarf is never tied. I just find this detail neat

-As much as Macaque tried to kill Wukong between s1 and s3, the moment Wukong was genuinely mad at him, Macaque's first instinct was to run. Even when Wukong was holding him, he was still shaking Yes, he probably couldn't breathe bcuz choking, but these guys are immortal and with the whole thing underwater, I don't think they actually need to breathe. So this means that he was probably terrified the entire time, and thinking that Wukong would kill him again (I fucking hate doomed yaoi)

-Now that I think about it, the only time we see Macaque scared was with LBD, Sun Wukong attacking him, Sun Wukong getting attacked or being endanger, MK being endangered, Bai He being endangered, or actually having to deal with the idea of staying with Wukong to help him (s4, MK going on that whole "I gotta help my friends" speech while Mei is being consumed by the Samahdi fire). Most of those things are Wukong and Monkey fam related

-Alejandro Saab doing a cover of peaches. Istg, he KNEW what he was doing when he pulled that one

-Correct me if I'm wrong again, but apparently, some gay men in ancient China would become sworn brothers so they could be together legally. Other than Shadowpeach, I was never much a brotherhood shipper, but do what you will with this info

-ALEJANDRO SAAB BELIEVES THAT MACAQUE IS SHORTER THAN WUKONG! THE DEBATE IS OVER YALL

-"Forever is a long time, bud." "Me and you just living here get on fat on fruit forever!" Bro was definetly thinking of Macaque

[r0t-t1ngxeyy]

'*~°💫 MAMMON X MC (Y/N) ONESHOT!!

: Angst + Unrequited??

Why didn't you stop me? - Mitski

**first work I'm posting IM SO SORRY IF IT'S SHIT I LITERALLY JUST WOKE UP FROM A NAP👽**

"They're blue?.."

Mammon paused as you cut him off with a question.

He was going on and on about his appearance, as the Majolish magazine described him. He had barged into your room waving the newest edition of the said magazine around as if it was a flag. He tosses it towards you. As you glanced through the cover, he started to speak up. He quoted; 'Caramel tan skin, snow colored hair, electrifying blue eyes...' practically reading it out for you. You look closer into the cover when he mentions the description on his eyes. Without thinking you ask-"They're blue?.."

He goes silent.

Mammon furrows his eyebrows, staring directly at Mc in disbelief. "What are ya? Blind or somethin?" Mammon grumbles, crossing his arms. His dramatic and sassy demeanor caught your attention. You glance up at the now frustrated demon. You can't help but chuckle a bit, finding his offended manner a bit silly. "Yer telling me that ya never noticed?" It was amusing how worked up he was getting over something as small as you not noticing his eye color.

"Nope." You pop the 'p' to annoy him, trying to mess with the demon. You never looked at him long enough. You saw the glimpse of the yellow gradient and well,just assumed that they were yellow. And you always thought that for a veryy long time. Up until this point. Obviously. "Wha- you've been here over a year and.." Mammon's tensed shoulders soften a bit, his eyebrows drop too. "..you've.. never noticed? Not even once?" His voice cracks, looking away from you for a moment. "Not really. My bad." You murmur, flipping through the magazine.

Mammon goes silent, you might as well have forgotten that he was there in the first place. You were about to break the silence with a joke but he beats you to it. "What color are Levi's eyes?" Huh?.. You glance up at Mammon, confused. What's he planning.. He looks stern. "What do you mean?" , "Just answer." You furrow your eyebrows, confused. You brush off his strange question, putting the magazine down. You sit up on your bed, actually getting kind of concerned now.

You answer.

"Orange."

"hah! See- I knew it!" Mammon grins proudly, placing his hands on his hips. "Obviously- If ya didn't know my eye color then-what?" He pauses, his smile drops. His hands slide off his hips, falling on his side. "Orange." You repeat, all while shrugging. It wasn't a big deal to you. You knew Levi pretty well after all. Mammon's expression drops to one of disappointment. "Lucky guess.." He mumbles, clearing his throat. You can't help but feel like he's up to something here..

"What about..err...Asmo?" He looked hesitant to ask that but he did. "Hard to describe but.. Kinda like Levi's I guess? But..softer? Li-" He cuts you off, clearing his throat. "Okay. Okay, whateva." He rolls his eyes, trying to act unbothered but his body language says otherwise. His left hand loosely gripped on his jeans. "Why're you asking anyway?" You question. Genuinely... Concerned. Kinda. "Nothin. It's nothin." He huffs and looks away.

"I still have another shoot after this so... See ya." He's leaving? The new edition just came out. There's no way he has another shoot. Before you could tease him about his reaction to your seemingly innocent answers, Mammon had already shut the door behind him. Geez.. It's just his eye color, why's he being all childish? It's not like it's your fault. He asked the questions anyway, right?

But.. in the past year that he's looked you in the eye on multiple occasions, scolding you to stay safe around here since he can't always be around to get you out of trouble. You never once took your time to live in the moment? Take in his words, the soft yet authoritive tone in his voice. His scent, how he always made sure to put on an expensive perfume before he came to console you. His eyes.

How they searched for you at any chance it had.

How they glimmered when you complimented him on something stupid.

How they were blue.

Nope. You didn't really look long enough to care.

[hell-is-not-an-excuse]

Not so sorted Ghostfuckers thoughts

Firstly, this episode was an improvement over the last few, at least in my opinion - That isn't to say that it's great, or even particularly good, but I can say that I was more invested in this episode, even if only a little. It had more focus on the original concept of the show with an I.M.P mission finally not just being reduced to a short... Though the mission still doesn't take full priority, something I will expand on momentarily.

Before that though, I'll start off with the things I did actually like.

The bankruptcy joke got a quick giggle out of me. It may be that I'm still an immature little homonculus, but the jokes that don't fall into the unnecessarily crude/sexual category still elicit a reaction from me.

This joke got me too - I know that this was almost definitely intended as a jab towards critics, however it loops back around to being funny to me, as I joke a lot about being "objectively correct".

These frames of Moxxie specifically - I love him a lot and wish he was in a show that took better care with its character writing

I enjoyed seeing the flashback designs for the I.M.P crew - Moxxie isn't too different, but I actually sort of prefer the others past looks here.

Lastly, this specific moment/line! This is a massive improvement over what was given to us in those leaked boards - In the original boards, I had a hard time believing that Millie would have this suicidal fit out of seemingly nowhere because... Some other demon told her she was a bad wife? This is a much more "in character" line for Millie, given what we already knew about her as an audience (which admittedly, wasn't a lot, but she never gave off the sort of insecurity/suicidal ideation that the original boards appeared to have been pushing for).

I think I've gotten all the praise I can wring out of my system - Now comes all the issues I take with this newest episode. These criticisms come in no particular order.

There's the usual thought that comes whenever a new episode drops - The swearing and sexual humour is too frequent and over the top. I'm an enjoyer of well placed crude and sexual humour, but this isn't well placed. With every second line containing profanity, innuendo, or explicit sexual content, they become less and less special and interesting to hear, to the point that watching characters interact becomes a slog.

Blitz is supposedly having this month long breakdown because... He had a breakup that wasn't really a breakup? He himself admits they were never in a relationship, and gets upset at the concept that him and Stolas will never be together. Obvious criticism of Stolitz notwithstanding, until Apology Tour, there have been no genuine moments of "love" between the two - This all comes off more as Blitz mourning this potential (now dead) relationship because the writers feel it's time for him to do so, without selling to the audience why he would give a damn about Stolas in the first place. I hardly believe Stolas and his pining back in Ozzie's, let alone the shameless display that we're getting now.

Speaking of Stolas, this is a perfect segue into what I said I was going to expand upon further down in this post; despite this episode having an I.M.P mission be a main setting, that's all it is - A setting. I wouldn't mind so much if this was purely for character building, but it's yet another instance of things happening because of Stolas. This feathered fuck haunts the narrative even when he's not present! The mission is presented more as an avenue of helping Blitz "get over" Stolas as opposed to just being a job that the members of I.M.P need to, you know, live.

Speaking of, how financially stable are I.M.P and its employees? Despite having nearly two seasons to expand on the concept of a business owned by the lowest caste of Hell's systems, nothing is done with it. With a setup like that, there should at least be some narrative drama involving the company facing challenges and instances of being in financial dire straights. Instead of this however, Blitz is able to blow a months worth of money on useless knick-knacks and owls to burn? With no real show of consequence as a result of this?

While I enjoyed seeing a bit of Millie backstory and her relationship to Blitz, Helluva still suffers from its "tell don't show" rule. Millie mentions she loves to have fun with Blitz, but we have never seen an instance of these two having fun together in show.

Honestly, the backstory of Blitz/Millie's meet and subsequent partnership should have been its own episode; we could have actually seen her steal the target from I.M.P as a solo assassin, we could have seen the state of I.M.P before her addition - If you wanted a bit of shipping fuel, you could also have an instance of Moxxie being too starstruck by this mysterious, wrathful rival to take a shot on her. So many possibilities! All wasted.

Millie's development episode shouldn't have come at the tail end of season two - She's been in the show since episode ONE, she deserved something in the first season to flesh her out.

I do not buy her reasoning for looking up to Blitz; if she thinks of herself as only a simple country girl or a brute, this would have been nice to actually see hinted to us throughout the show.

The casual ableism in the joke about the Hotel Owner's new cleaner - Not only is the way he is depicted simply dehumanising, framing him as this object of disgust rather than a person, this is driven further by being called a "poor thing" and only being reacted to with vague disgust by Blitz and Millie. And of course he's barely verbal, with the exception of a funny swear word (/sarc).

The whole sequence where Blitz is alone and being tormented by visions of Millie and Tilla is... It sure exists. Subtlety is lost in most of this dialogue here as once again, we are bluntly told what the problem with Blitz is - We know he makes decisions that fuck over others for his own benefit, we know he's selfish. We've seen this time and again!! This is not something that needed to be explicitly spoken for what feels like the millionth time in this (so far) two-season run.

Speaking of mothers! Millie and Loona get shafted into a role of taking care of their respective man for the episode - As a matter of fact, both their conversations involve Blitz or Moxxie. After nearly two seasons, I don't think they've had a conversation that wasn't about their male coworkers/relationships.

What is an infestor demon? Have they shown up before? What in God's name am I supposed to know about them? Somehow when it comes to worldbuilding, the need to explain everything explicitly is gone.

Why is Blitz being emotionally tortured again while Stolas sees no real consequence? This is getting to be a really tired pattern.

The whole ghostfucking bit was already testing my patience within the first couple of minutes.

Anyway, that's all I have of like... More surface level critiques of this episode. I'll probably make a few more minor posts about this episode later and elaborate on some new thing my brain is sticking to.

[emelinstriker]

{Eternal Servants AU} Red Son ♡ Offering

Art drawn by me + the AU itself is mine.

It's still my birthday (November 14th) in my time right now, so might as well post it since it just fits- Peeps voted for fluff, and I wanted to make something with Red Son's cooking, and boom, idea. :D

[TL;DR] Red Son bakes a cake for you.

♡ ~ Fluff ~ ♡

"Maybe this one..? No... This..? No..."

Red Son was flipping through the pages of a book for a recipe and hadn't even started anything. Just because he couldn't decide on which type of cake to bake. It needed to be perfect. It was his Master's birthday after all. He wouldn't be worthy of his title as one of your champions if he managed to fail at such an important task. And he'd rather not be a disgrace to his Master and the other servants.

He did think about asking another champion for some input, but he also didn't want to tell anyone he wanted to bake a cake for you. And he was aware that some champions, which shall not be named, weren't exactly the most quiet about keeping plans for their Master a secret. So putting his trust into the others wasn't much of a safe option... Though, maybe he could ask one of the more quiet ones for help, such as MK.

The red champion hummed in thought before letting out a rather tired groan. He wasn't tired of doing this for you, he was tired about possibly having to rely on another champion again and splitting the work credit. Much like Macaque, he enjoyed your full praises, but having to share the credit would only give him half of your attention and affection.

Suddenly, he snapped his fingers with a little smile as he exclaimed, "I've got it!"

Red Son then flipped through the book for a recipe on (Favorite Cake). Upon finding the page, he read through the required ingredients and grimaced... He knew for a fact he was missing some things from the list. The palace's kitchen was big but was usually low on ingredients after. Half of the palace didn't need to consume food after all. The kitchen was mostly there for their Master if they enjoyed cooking or wanted to try out cooking without the fear of setting anything nearby on fire. And now it was mostly occupied by Red Son so he could develop his own cooking skills more.

Sighing, he decided that he would have to actually go out and collect said ingredients. He wrote down the items that were missing before he closed the book and carefully hid it away in one of the cabinets again. It was best if he kept his plan a secret.

The red champion then picked up the list he wrote with his left hand and quietly made his way out of the kitchen. He had to be quiet yet also casual about how he moved, otherwise Macaque or someone else would-

"What are you up to, Bull Boy?"

...Oh, for fuck's sake.

He grumbled in slight annoyance as he turned to face a certain pink celestial. However, he seemed to be accompanied by MK. "I'm... Just taking a stroll. That's all", he replied.

Nezha crossed his arms as he raised an eyebrow. "Really? By rather suspiciously observing the area while walking, as if you were being hunted?"

Red Son's pursed his lips as he tried to hold back from saying any sassy comment that could trigger the celestial's anger. Instead, he awkwardly cleared his throat while looking away from the other two champions. "...I suppose so, yes."

The yellow champion next to Nezha tilted his head, humming as he noticed the folded up piece of paper in the bull demon's hand. "What's that?" He asked, pointing at it. Red Son nervously took the piece of paper into his right hand, hiding it behind his cape.

"That- That is none of your concern. Just... a shopping list, I guess."

"Then you wouldn't mind if I-" Suddenly, Nezha swiftly flipped up the red champion's cape before snatching the paper from his hand. Due to Nezha's speed, Red Son couldn't even comprehend what was happening until it was already over. And once he saw the celestial open the list, his heart dropped in his chest. There went his chance at getting extra affection from you.

The pink champion skimmed through the list's contents and blinked in surprise. "Wait. You weren't kidding. But then why were you so sneaky about it?" He then handed the list to the yellow champion.

And before Red Son could come up with any excuses, MK spoke up. "Isn't this a recipe for Master's favorite cake? For today. I can't forget today."

Nezha did a double take as he looked over MK's shoulder and at the list again... After re-reading the ingredients listed and confirming the young monkey's suspicions, he gave Red Son a rather offended look. "...Were you seriously trying to bake a cake behind our backs? And for Master's birthday nonetheless!"

The celestial glared daggers at the young demon. But before he could scold him or physically harm him, MK stepped in front of him, blocking him. "Let's help. It's Master's birthday. No fighting on Master's birthday."

Pausing, Nezha thought about his words and reluctantly let out a sigh to calm his anger. "You're right", he said before turning back towards the red champion, still seemingly annoyed at this form of betrayal, but he's holding it all back quite well. "Do you perhaps need help retrieving those things on the list?"

Red Son slowly shook his head. "...Uh, no thanks. I'm... I'm pretty sure I can just get it all quickly for Master's cake by myself-"

Suddenly, a shadow portal opened next to the red champion, startling him. And out popped Macaque with an excited grin on his face. He was practically vibrating as his tail happily swished around behind him from what he just heard. "I heard about a cake you're making for Master's birthday from the other side of the palace! I wanna help too!"

It wasn't noticeable, but the others could tell Nezha had a shit-eating grin beneath his mask as he spoke. "The more the merrier, right? Bull Boy over here could have us get the ingredients he needs so he can bake." At this point Red Son could most definitely not talk his way out of it. And he hated this fact.

He cursed a little under his breath, which probably only Macaque caught but brushed off, before reluctantly agreeing to it. "Fine. You can help me. I know you wouldn't stop asking me about it."

"Wonderful! Now, what's on the list? What do I get to collect for Master?" Macaque asked eagerly as he clasped his hand together.

Nezha snorted as he eyed the purple champion. "Better give him an item he won't have to get lost over. Or one where he can't accidentally piss off every demon in the vicinity like last time."

Macaque huffed as he placed his hands on his hips, giving the celestial a little glare. "Listen. I'm not that reckless when it's not a task Master told me to do."

"But it's still a task for Master's birthday", the celestial retorted. "So I hope I can trust that you won't get caught up in a random side task again and vanish for longer than needed. Not on their special day." 

While they kept arguing about Macaque's inability to keep things simple without doing extra work and getting into trouble in the process, Red Son was already assigning MK to grab an item. The yellow champion gave him a happy salute despite his blank expression before walking away to get said item. He wants to make his Master proud!

Macaque and Nezha very soon noticed the young monkey's absence and they turned back towards Red Son, who was seemingly trying to sneak away.

The pink champion scoffed as he crossed his arms again, "Where do you think you're going, Bull Boy? You still haven't given us any ingredients to look for."

Red Son was most definitely rolling his void-black eyes before turning around to face the remaining two champion, who have been trailing after him to catch up. "Will you leave me alone if I let you each pick an ingredient to get?"

The dark-furred simian nodded with a happy expression. "Yes! I just wanna help make Master's birthday the best of the best birthdays for them!"

"...Fine. Here, just take the whole list. There's only two ingredients left anyway since MK already went off to find one of them", the red champion said reluctantly as he shoved the list into Macaque's chest. And of course, Macaque quickly took the list, ignoring the way Red Son shoved it into him. He finally could help with Master's special day, which was all that mattered.

The two of them then noticed Red Son walking away, looking like a deflated a balloon. Nezha felt a bit of sympathy for him since he knew how much this meant to him. But he genuinely wanted to help the younger demon. Meanwhile Macaque didn't feel such sympathy. The monkey in purple was all too busy being eager helping out, but just to get pets and kisses from you.

The red champion soon returned to the kitchen, leaning with his back against the now door as he sighed in disappointment. Now he had to share that credit with three other champions. Fun. And all he wanted was some extra attention from you just this once...

And of course, considering who all was given the task of retrieving the ingredients, it didn't take long for the three other champions to return and bring the missing items to the kitchen. It was most certainly surprising to see MK actually return with his task complete since he usually forgot things. However, Red Son figured he remembered this task since it's a task for their Master's comfort. And while he usually forgot about what he did, he never seemed to forget about given commands and objectives. He would only question what he did afterwards.

However, thanks to the other servants' work, Red Son was able to focus on his own task of baking a birthday cake. But this time he would not have another servant take his credit. So he told the others to get out and let him work on it himself. And despite Macaque's persistence in helping him further, the red champion wouldn't budge and wouldn't start anything. At least until the monkey left the kitchen through a portal while pouting. And he knew Macaque didn't know how to bake a cake, so Red Son was confident that the simian wouldn't dare try baking one unless it was absolutely perfect on his first try.

And finally, due to Red Son's skills in the kitchen, the bull demon was able to create the perfect cake. Which was also your favorite cake. Just to top it off, he added a birthday candle and lit it up with a little flame in the palm of his hand. He smiled as he proudly glanced over the cake. There was no way you wouldn't enjoy it, he was sure of it.

But then of course another servant just had to startle him by standing behind him without even saying a word. He turned and saw a certain blue champion, just standing there, yet his presence was menacing.

Shit. Macaque probably told him about the cake.

"Oh- Wha-... W-What is it, Wukong? Did you also w-" Red Son tried to question him, but quickly cut himself off the moment he witnessed the quiet simian just casually taking the cake's plate with his hand and walking away. He didn't even bother giving the red champion a second glance.

Red Son just watched silently in disbelief as the monkey walked away towards presumably their Master's bedroom. He could feel his eye twitch in frustration at how, again, yet another champion was stealing more of his credit.

But whatever.

At this point he was already convinced that he'll be pushed to the side again just so the others could get more love and attention from you. Wouldn't be the first time. He groaned a bit before following Wukong. The simian was indeed headed for your bedroom.

Upon reaching your bedroom, Wukong gently knocked with his free hand on the door while still holding the cake in the other. When he heard you tell him to enter, he opened the door and bowed his head. Red Son moved past the simian in blue and also bowed his head. Then he looked up and saw you in bed with Macaque, MK and Nezha already present either on or around your bed. Macaque was the one in the middle of receiving pets from you. Meanwhile you looked very much tired, as if you had just woken up about a minute ago.

Wukong held up the cake in front of him as he said with a little, rare smile, "Happy Birthday, Master."

Which was soon followed up by the other champions wishing you a Happy Birthday. Including Macaque, whose wishes were muffled due to him snuggling into you. You smiled tiredly, still seeming very much confused for a moment before you realized what was happening. "Aw... Thanks, guys", you said. Then you looked at the cake in Wukong's hands. Your eyes lit up a bit at he sight. "Is... Is this (Favorite Cake)? Did you guys make this... for me?"

Red Son remained silent, knowing the others would just claim all the glory and- "Actually, Red Son made it, Master. We didn't do much this time", Nezha quickly responded with a genuine smile underneath his mask. "We just helped out a bit, but the idea and execution was all his doing."

Red Son slowly turned towards him with his void-black eyes wide open in shock. Did... Did Nezha just make up for earlier? And knowing your attention was no longer on your pink champion, but on your red champion instead, the celestial gave the bull demon a knowing wink. Which made the red-haired boy smile with gratitude. He was given the spotlight for once.

Wukong seemed to have understood what Nezha was doing and decided to chime in, which seemed to encourage the bull demon again. "It's true, Master. He did most of it himself."

Your mouth formed an 'o' as your head turned towards Red Son, who was now blushing a little in embarrassment. You reached out your arm and pat your leg, which was still covered by your blanket, beckoning him over while Macaque scooted a bit away to give the bull demon space to sit on. "C'mere, Red. I wanna thank you properly."

His blush only became more noticeable as he approached your bed, seating himself on it. Then you pulled him a bit closer towards yourself and placed a little kiss on his cheek. This only resulted in his blush becoming worse, and you could swear his entire body began to heat up as his tied up hair turned into flames for just a moment. You gave him another kiss on his reddening cheeks once again before smiling at him.

"Thank you, Red."

He smiled back despite his embarrassment as he nuzzled into your chest.

"You're welcome, Master... Happy Birthday..."

.

.

.

"...Hey Master, where is Mink?"

"Um... I'm not sure actually. Probably still with the Oracle. He came in last night and wanted to borrow the scroll for something involving some lion, I think...? But he said he'll bring back the scroll some time later today."

[ Masterlist ]

[rae-pss]

Good afternoon rae! hope you have a nice day 😌

So about the whb self aware Au , The reader ( us ) is control the Mc ( Ra-on ) nody right? even so there will be a difference bitween reader/us and the Mc like : souls , aura right? the devil or even the angel pretty much can sense it but need some time to distinguish between both. Like when the reader control or even talk through Mc body is will show ( little / much ) the difference right? I just wonder how they will reaction about it when they start to knowlege that the mc being control by us for that moment can be? ( No need all the reaction of them , like the seraphim or the king ) 🤔🤭

masterlist

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . good afternoon to you too! damn, inspiration tends to come to me once per month or how is this even possible; yet, i'll post separately the seraphim ones (one i manage to write it down). well, whatever, once more thanks for sharing your ideas with me, sweetie. i hope you like it, dear anon (<3). ˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . lowercase intended, 448 words.

〔 SATAN 〕

—satan's the first to realize the sudden changes that the human suffered at times. the fact of being with her most of the time gives him the privilege of being able to notice those strange quirks before anyone else.

—that said, sadly, it didn't dawn on him that it could be a sign that the presence he felt at times seeing him was manifesting in ra-on. It wasn't until he found himself lost in her eyes that her pieces wanted to form the puzzle.

—loves being able to talk, being able to just be with you whenever the opportunity presents itself. this demon seems to live longer every time that, for some other reason, he manages to feel an iota of anger in you when you are in the human body.

〔 MAMMON 〕

—when he realized how his master's aura was becoming more intense, and how her behavior was consequently changing, it didn't take long for mammon to connect one point with another.

—now he understood why the others, aka the gehenna demons, seemed to not want to leave her alone with anyone else for long.

—he doesn't miss an opportunity to talk to you, that superior being who seems to control ra-on in the crazy adventure he lived there in hell. once even admitting that there was when he could touch your bottom directly.

〔 LEVIATHAN 〕

—observative and perceptive as he alone, it did not take leviathan long to realize that these changes in the human were due to the presence that seemed to be over everyone.

—firstly, as it should be, he took it in a somewhat bad way. his envy shining brightly knowing that some already knew before him. the audacity… despite that, as it should be, he had to accept that even with his internal rage.

—if the opportunity arose, he would spend it with you in her castle, preferably inside her chambers where nothing and no one could interrupt you.

〔 BEELZEBUB 〕

—of all of them, I would say that beelzebub is the last, or one of them, to realize what is happening regarding you and the position of ra-on's body. for nothing other than the reason we all know, his constant disappearances and unforeseen appearances.

—of course, he only needed to be in front of that new human aura once to decipher who he was really talking to. that characteristic side smile of his showing itself on his features.

—every time he gets the opportunity to be close to you, be sure that he will take advantage of it. however, don't get too attached, because as always, he will end up leaving before you know it.

[crowleysgirl56]

Wildest dreams wishes for Good Omens Season 3 which will probably not come true but I can still hope hey!

Number 39

This one is dedicated to @hikarry who posted a couple weeks ago about Crowley reacting to finding out the walls in the bookshop’s back room were painted the same colour as his eyes. It made me remember I had this wildest dream idea sitting in my drafts and inspired me to finish writing it.

I therefore present to you yet another scene in the Adventures of Crowley and Muriel. What happens when Crowley finds portraits drawn of himself by Aziraphale, and works out just why Aziraphale thinks the colour yellow is pretty. Starts out as fluff, but ends in heartbreak and angst. Enjoy!

It had been eight months since Crowley last took off his sunglasses. He only did so now in order to press his finger tips into his eyes in frustration. Confused and exhausted at what he was seeing, he pushed the glasses securely back on his face, took a long annoyed breath in, and called out for the angel.

“Muriel! Get out here!”

Muriel popped their head out from the kitchenette.

“Something the matter Mr Crowley?”

“Is something the-? You bloody well know what the matter is, now come over here!”

Muriel bounded over to Crowley, currently with his back turned to them, staring intently as the bookshelves.

“Where are they?!” He gruffly demanded.

“Where are what?” Muriel innocently replied.

“The books! What have you done with the books, where are they?!” Crowley gestured around wildly at the filled bookshelves. Muriel looked confused.

“They’re right there Mr Crowley.”

Crowley advanced on Muriel, in a slightly but not really menacing way, “Yes, I can see that. But you know what I mean.”

“I haven’t been selling them again if that’s what you mean.” The first time Crowley returned to the bookshop after Aziraphale had left he was horrified to see a stream of customers coming and going. He had personally ran down (“Ran after Muriel, ran after! There’s a difference!”) 17 different people before they returned home just to retrieve the precious possessions before they could be dogeared, spines bent, or worst of all, read on the toilet by careless humans. Afterwards he updated the opening hours sign to include an additional layer of confusion, then spent two and a half hours lecturing Muriel on the evils of capitalism and how to take care of the books properly. Muriel wouldn’t be making that mistake twice.

“Obviously. What I mean is, where are they. They’re all out of order. There’s cookbooks next to Tolstoy, and Pratchett next to Sun Tzu! Where is everything?!”

“Oh, I arranged everything by colour!” Muriel replied proudly, a shining smile spreading across their face.

“You…what?!”

“It’s much prettier this way don’t you think?”

Crowley took a step back and viewed the colours splashed across the shelves. The effect was like staring at a magic eye painting when it suddenly comes into focus. Before him was a kaleidoscope of colour, books positioned in such a way that their outward facing spines when pushed together formed a massive rainbow.

“No it’s not, change it back!” He demanded.

Muriel’s smile dropped and suddenly their eyes went as wide as a puppy’s as they implored him to reconsider.

Crowley was a demon. He was not nice. He didn’t have feelings (certainly not now!), and his one hundred percent NOT broken heart was most definitely not going to be guilted into changing his mind by some sappy eyed angel, especially one that sometimes reminded him of a certain other silver haired cream puff who’s gorgeous pouty lips would make even the coldest of glaciers melt on the spot DEFINITELY NOT!

Crowley rolled his hidden eyes, hissed and then growled a deep low sigh before caving into their pleadings. “Fffffine!”

Muriel gleefully clapped their hands in a completely not adorable or endearing way.

“At least tell me where you hid the first editions?” Crowley moaned.

“Oh that’s easy, they’re over in the brown section.”

“Brown section?”

“Yes unfortunately there’s quite a lot of those.” Muriel pointed behind him.

Crowley turned and startled at crammed shelf after shelf of “brown section”. It took up a majority of the bookshop. The different shades of browns were almost a rainbow in itself. Typical he thought to himself. S’what you get when you only collect books from a hundred years ago.

He thought he’d start with some Dickens, but when he found Dostoyevsky next to Marlow he knew he was in trouble.

“Muriel, how exactly are these books sorted?”

“Easy! First by height then by length!”

Crowley fought the urge to once again slip off his glasses and rub his hands across his face. “Naturally.” He instead murmured.

Muriel by this point had produced the yellow feather duster he remembered Ji- Gabri- Jimbriel had managed to get his hands on, and was vigorously dusting the spotless gramophone.

Pulling his gaze away from the swishing of the bright feathers he turned his attention back to the shelves. Something caught his eye. “Huh, so she did write novels” he remarked as he thumbed his fingers over a copy of Persuasion. As he pulled the book from the shelf he noticed it was wedged in particularly tight next to a rather bulky looking tome, which promptly clatter to the floor scattering delicate pages everywhere.

“Bugger!” Crowley exclaimed as he bent down to pick them up. As he collected them, his hand froze over one page as he suddenly recognised the neat and flourished handwriting.

“Muriel,” Crowley half whispered as he began carefully lifting the pages from the floor, “where did this book come from?”

Muriel turned and looked at the front cover, “Oh that was on Mr Aziraphale’s desk. It was the perfect size for that section of the shelf so I thought I’d pack it away.” Muriel was already approaching the mess, bending down to assist when Crowley shot out a hand to stop them. He turned some more pages over and was greeted with careful hand drawn images of himself. Striking and candid portraits, spread across the years of his existence. One detailed a silhouette sitting at what looked like a bar table, a silver circle of leaves upon his head. Another a simple elegant hand grasping a wine glass. Pensive, brooding, and silent profiles adorned many of he pages. But others showed the demon smiling or grinning, and in one vivid rendition with his head thrown back in laughter.

Heat spread across his cheeks as he hungrily dove into more of the scattered pages. Sketches from Scotland, Golgotha, 1941, even one of his Bildad the Shuite persona, an arrow pointing at his beard and a simple scrawled “No” next to it. A laugh escaped his throat.

Then one particular portrait stopped him in his tracks. He stared at himself as the picture seemed to stare back. Aziraphale had drawn this one without sunglasses, his face was naked, his eyes uncovered. His eyes shone back at him from the page. Aziraphale had coloured his eyes a deep golden yellow. Something about the colour struck him, and before he realised he was on his feet striding for the back room.

Hand shaking, he lifted the portrait up to the wall. The eye colour matched the walls exactly. In fact he wouldn’t have been surprised if Aziraphale had used the same paint on the walls as he did to colour the portrait. Something coiled in the pit of his stomach and radiated out up his spine.

“Mr Crowley are you alright” Muriel asked quietly behind him. He turned and stared at them, when the feather duster they still held came into focus. The yellow feather duster. A conjured memory, only a few short months ago struck him like a train. “My car is not yellow, change it back” “but it’s pretty!” echoed across his mind. Other images surfaced, a yellow band wrapped around a fuzzy top hat, the splash of yellow through a tartan bow tie, a bunch of daffodils displayed on a work desk, and image after image of Aziraphale’s radiant smile. A smile morphing into quiet and confused distress as glasses were placed firmly back in place hiding his eyes away when last they spoke.

Everything came crashing down on him like a tonne of bricks. A dawning realisation rolled over his skin making him shiver. The failed confession. The agony of watching his angel get in that elevator. He was sure he’d gotten it wrong, all those months ago. But he hadn’t. He was right! So why did that make him feel all the more worse? He dropped the pages and silently made his way to the door.

“Wait! Mr Crowley, where are going?!” Muriel fretted, as Crowley reached the entrance.

He paused and with one hand on the handle, half turned back towards Muriel. His throat felt constricted, and drew in a shaky breath as he answered thickly, “I just…need some time…I’ll be back in a little while.”

If Muriel made any further protest he didn’t hear them. He found himself in the Bentley, hands gripping the wheel. He glanced at the back seat half expecting to see the yellow tulips he had once prepared to give to an angel. Long discarded in a local garden. A hesitant hand touched his sunglasses, trembled there a moment, then dropped. Swallowing heavily, he resolutely put the Bentley into gear and drove off. He wasn’t sure where to. But for now the open road seemed the best place to be.

[linddzz]

In Which Hob, a Shitty Wizard, Meets a Supposed Demon

Last week or so I made too many posts about what if Hob, still immortal, trying out occultism but kinda crap at it (which is some bullshit considering that Death is his drinking buddy), first meets Dream as the devil in the basement of The Magus Burgess. I called it "the shit-wizard Hob AU"

I still don't know if I'll finish it. But I couldn't stop it from starting.

No editing no betas we post on Tumblr like idiots.

EDIT: very mild editing still no betas we still stupid

********

In August of 1923, Hob Gadling - currently Rob Gedlen- is introduced to a demon.

It is, he has to admit, rather impressive. Or at least, the bonds keeping it tamed are. The prison space is everything a magus cellar should be. All arched, ancient stone and dim lighting that only barely illuminates the painted ceiling. Shadows so deep that even the electric bulbs only give the dark textures of colour. Green algae, the saturated grays and browns of rock, the faded blue and gold of the artificial night sky.

The oily glint of black iron chains. The sweeping ooze of the light over the curved iron scaffolding the chains held up, and the dizzying reflection off of the glass orb held within the iron like a gem clasped in dragon claws suspended over a small, mirror flat moat and an intricate golden circle.

Very impressive. Forboding even. The sort of thing a magus should have in his cellar.

The man inside of it looks for all the world like an ordinary naked man. Right number of limbs, hair and skin natural colors, everything in place where it should be. That's if one ignored the fact that he was sitting calm and clean in a fully airtight sphere of glass. Ordinary, if you were a dimwit and took human shape as a sign of humanity.

“This,” Burgess says with a wicked, bitter sort of pride, “is the Order’s secret of success.”

Hob whistles, because he thinks he should show some sort of appreciation. He's been working for Burgess for a few years now after all, and knows when to look suitably impressed. It is impressive, so he doesn't need to play it up too much when he follows Burgess past the wrought iron gate.

The man in the glass looks less like a mystical secret and more like he needs a coat. He's even sitting with his knees tucked to his chest, delicate ankles crossed in front of him, arms loosely draped forward and black haired head bowed down as if in deep thought.

With his nakedness, the curled position would look painfully vulnerable, were it not for the overwhelming sense that he's waiting.

“He's a demon of dreams. Or close enough to a demon.” Burgess explains. His cane tapping on the stone is the only other sound in that strange space. “I was attempting to summon Death itself, and failed at my task. But I did not come away empty handed.”

Yeah, that's probably for the best. If Hob had sauntered down here and seen Her displayed in a glass cage like a bauble, he would have done something stupid and violent. Best case scenario; She would just laugh at him for overreacting. Worst case; She'd do it with that sad little twist to Her mouth.

The entity Burgess did nab seems miniscule compared to the apparatus around him, to the manor towering over their heads. Yet even Hob and his absolute shit senses for magic can feel how everything is circling the center point of the man. They're all little marbles, orbiting the sphere and the mass within it.

“An incubus?” Hob asks, walking around the perimeter of the moat. His tone is mild, curious, intrigued. It's a talent of his to not exactly lie, but to use some of his feelings to mask others.

It’s a horrible thing, to take the freedom of another for your own benefit.

Her voice echoes in his head. That moment is never far from his head. The sad sweetness of her voice turned sour. The hard disappointment in her dark eyes. He will never forget the horrid, sickening twist of guilt of that meeting, and he feels it when he looks at the demon in the magus’ cellar.

The lights reflect oddly in the sphere, making it seem as if the man himself were the source of illumination. His skin is the sort of gleaming white that poets would froth over. Hob isn't a poet, but even he can tell that “white” hardly does it justice. The alabaster statues a floor above are going to appear dull and crude now when compared to the snow-under-moonlight of the man down here. The shadows of him are blue, violet, deepest velvet black.

Maybe not snow under moonlight, Hob thinks, reminded of the multi-hued winter twilight.

Now that he's closer, Hob can make out the sharply sculpted features of him. His curled body is a lean, hungry twist of muscle that reminds one less of actual flesh than of a tangled metal chord. His cheekbones are sharp and high, his eyes cast down with a sweep of raven wing lashes. The only hints of life are the faint flushes of seashell pink at his ears, his fingers, the still and plush lips.

“If you like.” Burgess says, which means the man isn't an incubus and Burgess thinks he's fucking clever again. The magus is watching Hob now, who is examining the circle, the iron chains, anything that will keep him from thinking too much about the thin form trapped within it.

“I attempted first to gain favors from it.” Burgess continues when Hob says nothing. “But it is stubbornly silent. No matter.”

Burgess has stepped past the moat, past the circle, to stand with his nose nearly touching the round glass wall. Hob stays outside of the barriers, but he is close enough that he can see the hate that always sits beneath his boss’ manners.

“No matter.” Burgess repeats, sneering at his captive. “Found a use for you anyway, didn't I? Just its presence brings power to this place. It amplifies the magic here, makes the spells wrought near it more solid.”

“Not much hope for me then, if I'm already by some magic booster.” Hob grins, and his boss chuckles almost fondly. It had been a whim that had Hob joining the Order. He’d never tried being a magician before, though he had gone to a few seances when they were at their peak. Occultism wasn't too fashionable anymore, so Hob thought it was best to try it out now before it got truly passe.

He's glad he's only been at it for a few years, because he's crap at it. All the costumes and chanting and intricate rituals seem silly, even when he's seen the true results of it. It was just a bunch of nonsense cobbled together from bad translations and old frauds that everyone knew were frauds back in the day! But if you followed the stupid made up rubbish perfectly, sometimes it would result in some actual magic.

That's one of the stupid things about magic. If all you can think about while doing a spell is that you must look like an utter berk, it won't work.

“We all have our talents, Mr. Gedlen.” Burgess says mildly, indulgently. “It's why I have brought you here, actually. You may not have the Gift,” he always referred to magic like that, you could hear the self important capitalized letters in it, “but you’re measured. Resilient. Notably unshakable.

Hob supposed that was true enough. Being in a house with a bunch of wizardy twats who were too busy going mad while practicing the perfect runes took a level head. Someone needed to have enough of a practical mindset to smother out all the fires that tended to happen, even if those fires had colors that gave you a headache.

“I've tried other magicians, promising acolytes, ruffian's from the street.” Burgess continues, sighing with remembered disappointment and gazing hard at the unmoving demon. “They would lose their nerve, complain of nightmares, or they would be too dimwitted to know the sorts of things to report on.”

Hob moves again, still keeping to the edges of the moat, until he is looking at Burgess’ back and into the lowered face of the demon. “You want me to be a guard?” He asks, voice mild because he isn't sure how he feels about that.

“An observer.” Burgess corrects. “You're sharp, though I've noticed that you try not to show it. You don't have a talent for magic, but you're quick to catch onto the supernatural.”

Hob should hope so, all things considered.

“I want you to take one of the guard shifts, yes. But I want to see what you observe compared to the thicker minds my son has hired. I want you to tell me when it moves, how it moved, if the light seemed different, if you felt tired despite the forced march pills you will be required to take. Any sign that it might be trying to wear away at the binds that hold it.

Do not be fooled by it's stillness or fair looks.” Burgess taps his cane on the sphere, making it ring like a perfect crystal. “This is a demon. If it ever breaks free, it will destroy all of us without a thought.”

The demon lifts its head then, and Hob wonders if his heart finally stops. The movement is slow, strange and dragged, a statue that can only mimic how a living thing would move. The raven wing lashes fly up. The demons eyes are shadowed. Far more deeply shadowed than they should be for the amount of light shining off his skin.

Within those shadows, the place where his eyes must be draw all the light in, refine it, refract it back in the distant twinkling of two dim, hateful, cold stars.

“Yeah. I don't doubt that.” Hob says quietly, and the demons eyes blaze in its beautiful, dead face.

[blue-sadie]

Na'vi At Heart

Tsu'tey x Dreamwalker Reader

Summary: based off this post

(Sorry it is not exactly like the post instead of it in your guys hut its by the soul tree)

Warning: mating, over-stimulation, forest sex

Yn/3rd person pov

The celebration continued for hours, the singing and dancing never ceasing and for the first time ever you saw tsu'tey enjoying himself.

He hand his hands on your waist smiling as he whispered into your ear how lucky he was with you, since you became full na'vi and buried your human body he's always has his hands on you.

But there is still one thing you haven't done yet which is sex but it was getting to the point you'd just jump on him now and ride him not caring if people saw.

But you didn't want to make the first move "come with me" he murmured grasping your hand tightly but not enough to hurt you and he started to lead you away from the party.

"Where are we going" I laughed as he pulled me onto his ikran who screeched happily as he saw me "just trust me" tsu'tey smiled as we took off, tsu'teys arms were wrapped around me tightly as we flew through the sky.

The night was lit up by certain plants down below and the sky was lit up by the moons and stars it was an amazing sight.

we flew in silence and I glanced over my shoulder every few moments but blushed as I always found him looking at me.

He took us to the tree of souls, landing a bit away "why are we here" I asked but he silenced me as he help me off his ikran "just trust me my love" he murmured softly.

He led me to the tree which illuminated the air around it "I know we have yet to mate" he murmured grabbing both my hands gently and bringing them to his chest.

"but I wanted to do it the right way" he said his eyes flickering back and forth between our intertwined hands and my eyes.

I tilted my head in confusion yes I learnt about a lot of the Na'vi culture but the mating ritual has been like a blank zone "what do you mean" I asked he chuckled softly and pecked my lips.

"We mate before eywa" he murmured and moved his lips to my neck I closed my eyes tightly and let out soft moans as he sucked on my neck as he slowly guided me to the tree.

We stood under the leaves of the soul tree and he pulled back from my neck "do you trust me" he asked his eyes never leaving mine my eyes fluttered.

"y-yes" I whispered and watched as his hand reached around and gently clasped my queue making me let out a surprised gasp "shh it's ok" he murmured as his free hand grabbed his.

"When we link our queues we become bonded" he explained as he handed me my queue "it is the way of showing our love for one another" he rambled shyly I smiled up to him.

"Then let's do this" I giggled and we brought our queues together I let out a soft moan as it connected making him smirk proudly I looked into his eyes and it was like something changed they went filled with care anymore but with lust and hunger.

"Tsu-" I was cut off by his lips pressing against mine in a rough but passionate kiss "fuck" I cursed against his lips as his hands dragged long my body.

"Lay down" he growled as he forced me to the ground our queues never unlinking "tsu'tey" I murmured watching as he removed my clothing his eyes never leaving my body.

"Such beauty" he growled leaning down so his face was infront of my core he's eyes stared at me as he started eating me out his tongue licking circles around my clit making me squirm and moan.

"Delicious taste" he muttered shoving his face more into me "tsu'tey" I moaned out arching my back he never was like this he was always gentle and kind.

He pulled back his tongue licking around his mouth to clean off my juices "so perfect but impure" he growled and I was about to ask what he ment but froze as he took off his loincloth in one swift movement.

My mouth opened and shut his was rock hard and twitching "I have to fuck you to get the demon blood out so don't think we're sleeping tonight my love" he groaned as he rubbed his shaft before positioning himself infront of my core.

He stared down at me with hunger before plunging in, I whimpered out at the stretch he was big "tsu'tey" i whined my hands holding onto his shoulders as he started to thrust rapidly.

But he was like on another world not responding just concentrating on fucking me hard, he grabbed one of my legs and threw it over his shoulder angling his movements downwards which made me see stars.

"Fuck don't stop" he was hitting all the right places and soon a knot began to form "tsu'tey" I moaned as my moans were starting to get higher.

My body shook from pleasure as I cum my moans trembled as I cam around him "my love" tsu'tey growled as he slowly came to a stop and forced me into dogy-style before continuing "fuck" I cried.

He started smacking my ass as he whispered praises into my ear his voice low and dangerous my hands gripped and tugged at the ground below me as he rutted hastily into me.

His groans and moans started filling the air and his cock began to twitch "my love I'm about to cum" he growled out grabbing my hips roughly pulling me back into him as he cam "fuck" I yelled my eyes rolling as he filled me up.

I wanted to fall limp but he just laughed putting me into another position "like I said my love we're not sleeping tonight".

[obeyme-and-myfics]

Hi!! May I request a continuation of short!MC with the side characters? I love your writing! 💖💖💖

Yes, of course! I took a little break from posting on the internet so that's why it took so long for me to respond. Also thank you! I try to write as well as I can. (●'◡'●) Some side characters are gonna be missing from this cuz I'm not quite comfortable writing for them yet.

I haven't met Raphael, Mephistopheles or Thirteen(I am planning on making their own parts when I do tho!) in anything other than events. So I'd like to apologize in advance because if I remember correctly one of your favs is Mephisto o(TヘTo) (I hope this doesn't sound weird since we've only met briefly on the discord server /gen)

Anyway onto the actual prompt (￣y▽￣)╭

Part 1| Part 2(here)

Prompt: How Obey Me Characters react to a short MC/Y/N

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon, Luke(/p)

Headcanon List

CW/TWs: Teasing for your height,

Diavolo

I don't think he'd have much of a reaction seeing as most people/demons are a lot shorter than him

This man is easily 7ft I don't think he gives a fuck, everyone is puny to him

He'd definitely say something by accident, something he doesn't think would bother you

He's a himbo and oblivious to this shit

He'd probably say some shit like

"You're quite small for a human" or something like that

Crouches/Bends down to talk to you sometimes

Only when he really feels like it

I swear he's not trying to be rude

He'll pick you up only if you ask

For any reason too, he adores his small human

He respects you and doesn't want to help you like that unless you want him to

If he sees you struggling to grab something he'll get it for you

Gently reminds you that he can help you and you don't need to struggle with these things while he's there

Worries about other demons taking advantage of your small stature and hurting you

So he checks in on your wellbeing more often than he would if you were taller

If he knows you're around, he's making sure he doesn't accidentally run over you

I'm so sorry! to be fair he's probably gotta do that with bitches 5'7 and below

He'd probably enjoy holding/hugging you too

Like you ask for cuddles this man is cradling you in his arm

Maybe even rocking your ass to sleep

Barbatos

Man has nothing to say about your height

Like he couldn't care less about it and has the foresight to not say shit if you're a little insecure

Not that he would even if you weren't

If he sees you struggling to get something off a higher place, he's helping even if you don't ask/don't want him to

That's just kinda how he is

If you request he stop that he will but you need to communicate your wants and needs

If he sees you getting bullied(/lh) for your height and you look distressed he'll give to culprit a bit of a scolding

Depending on how bad it/Who it was it'll be harsher

Of course he'd like for you to defend yourself at least a little bit

When you do he can't help but smile a little to himself.

He likes to serve the ones he cares for so if any difficulties arise due to your height he'd be happy to attend to them

That is to say its only if you ask/he has the time to

He is still the butler of the future ruler of the Devildom after all

Barbatos also wouldn't treat you any different than how he would treat some one of average height or taller

Solomon

He makes the occasional comment about your height to your face

Giggles about it in private on occasion LIKE A BITCH

It's only occasionally that he does this tho

Overall its not that big of a deal to him

He's been alive long enough that he doesn't really care

Will absolutely help you with things your height hinders you from doing

If you're being bullied about your height he'll give you a chance to defend yourself before jumping to your defense

Will pick you up and carry you sometimes just for shits and giggles

Other times he picks you up and carries you away to hang out or aid him in another one of his magical endeavors.

and now we have Nightbringer /j

He's not doing anything to talk to you on your level Slay, king Solomon. Slay

He thinks its mildly entertaining to watch you struggle to grab something off the top shelf/anything out of your reach

He's a bit more careful with you than he normally would be with others

Has offhandedly suggested making something to make you taller if you'd like it

you gonna whoop his ass or should I?

He enjoys watching you stand up for yourself despite your height

It can be intimidating when people who are much taller than you pick on you and he understands that

or maybe you're not intimidated in the slightest and just wanted to unleash a can of whoop ass on some assholes who've been picking on you Period. Slay honestly.

He understands that too, and enjoys watching it go down

He finds it satisfying

Simeon

Won't comment on it most of the time but he does think its really cute

Only makes a comment when he's asking if you need help getting something higher up than you can reach

and its normally something like

"Oh! MC did you need help? It looks like you can't quite reach that."

A bit more careful with you than he would be normally

Though he's gentle by nature most of the time Sadistic Simeon has me in a chokehold fr fr

He won't get down to your level or do anything to demean you

not intentionally anyway

He doesn't say anything about your height for the most part but he will slip up every once in a while

It's nothing bad he just lets it slip he thinks your height is cute

He encourages you to stand up for yourself but has no problem sticking up for you or stealing you away if you're being bullied too much.

Happy to help with anything your height makes difficult when you ask

Other than that he doesn't treat you any differently due to your height

Luke

He's just happy he's not the only short one here.

If you're shorter than him he doesn't comment on it but he is excited to not be the shortest there.

He would make a few comments about it but you just gotta tell him to stop and he will

He doesn't want to make you upset with him

Sweet baby just wants to bond with you over the others making fun of your heights

Doesn't hesitate to yell at anyone making fun of your height and calling you names because of it

Makes sure you're okay afterwards

He's getting made fun of for this though

The brothers would take to calling him your guard dog

He barely gives you a chance to defend yourself but will back up if you defend yourself before he can

He borderline clings to you like a sloth

Comes to you every time he needs to vent about everyone bullying him for his own height

You're his favorite human now

If he's taller than you, he will do his best to help with things you can't reach.

He's happy to help out his friend