#took the feeling and held it instead of banishing it away

[wu-does-art]

thinking about Nico adjusting to letting himself miss and long for the people he loves. based on these bits from the sun and the star:

" As Nico and Will followed the trogs, he thought about how much he missed Hazel. He was learning to make peace with that feeling. It was okay for him to miss people because that meant he wanted them around in his life. That idea was *very* new for him- he was used to either pushing people away or watching them recoil from his presence." *

" That was the most surreal thing of all... Was he happy? Nico wasn't very familiar with the sensation, but he couldn't deny that he felt wonderful in Will's presence. He even longed for the son of Apollo when they were apart. A funny thing had happened as the two grew closer: Nico suddenly understood all those cheesy, sappy love songs he'd always hated."

[hannieehaee]

content: bf!vernon, first date, reader is implied to be a goddess basically, vernon is down bad horribly, a kiss, suggestions of going further than kissing, fluff, etc.

part 1, part 2

wc: 698

a/n: this is a response to a request by @straykidsstanforeverandever so sorry it took me this long to get to this!!

masterlist

vernon was in over his head.

when he'd first asked you out, it had truly been an out of character moment for him. at least as far as it concerned you.

because when it came to you, vernon was a complete mess. it didn't matter that you'd been friends for a while, he still had no idea how to act around you.

especially now, as he walked you home after what he believed to have been a life-changing first date.

and well, he hoped that feeling had been mutual.

he was sure his hand was clammy as he held onto yours, but he tried to will the thought away. he didn't want to let go of your hand, so he powered through it. you didn't say anything, so he hoped maybe it was shared sweat. not that that would really make it any better.

"you're thinking really loudly," you broke him out of his thoughts, squeezing his hand.

"uh, sorry, i was just thinking, uhm, my hand's kinda sweaty, isn't it?"

god, what an idiot.

but you just laughed. didn't even bother to unlock your fingers, but instead squeezing his hand once more, beginning to swing your interlocked hands in a jovial manner.

"it's fine, non. it's cute that you're nervous," and then you gave him another one of those award-winning smiles that had him reeling. it was like you were rooting against him.

"oh, uh, that's good. yeah, i am nervous. in case it wasn't obvious. did you have a good time? i did. i had a great time."

his mouth had a tendency of going a mile ahead of him any time it came to speaking to you.

"yeah, i had a great time, vernon. i'm kind of sad it's over, honestly."

hell yeah. he'd knocked it out of the water.

if he were a little braver (or maybe just not a complete mess while around you), he'd suggest extending the date. not that he was expecting anything further than hand holding. he just would've liked to spend more time with you. maybe even the whole night. wait, but not like that, just-

"well, we're here."

oh, right. you had a destination to get to. and now you were there.

vernon kicked rocks under his feet, sad it was time to say goodbye. you stood in front of him now, making him mourn the hold of your hand the second it banished.

before he could actually muster it in him to do anything, — kiss you goodnight? or maybe a hug or something less daring? — you interrupted his thoughts again. you were always better at these things than he was.

"so, wanna come in?"

"oh, oh you want me to- i thought-"

"what, did you want to kiss me goodnight?"

were you in his head?

"we can always do both."

"huh?"

smooth, hansol. smooth

"c'mere," you nodded at him, taking a few baby steps towards him, almost if daring him.

"yeah, i ..."

your hands went to his shoulders, giving up in waiting for him and pulling him down for a kiss. when vernon's brain regained consciousness, he began kissing back, wrapping his arms on your waist and ensuring you stayed glued to him.

this wasn't your first kiss, per say, but it was the first time vernon really got to feel what it was like to be kissed by you.

safe to say that he was instantly addicted to the feeling.

when you pulled away, he pathetically trailed behind you up until he realized the kiss was over. but you giggled at him, so he didn't feel embarrassed. it was worth it if he made you laugh.

"that was nice," you smiled shyly at him.

you were surely going to kill him. he couldn't stand how pretty you looked after a kiss. your lips were a little more swollen than usual and your eyes glassy with want. vernon knew he wouldn't survive coming into your apartment — even if all intentions were innocent.

"c'mon, let me make you something to drink. promise i'll be good," you quipped before unlocking your door and dragging him in by the hand.

and he followed willingly, just very happy to be there.

[jayaury]

Inn-Dulgence

Another from the archives! And as always, there's plenty more on my P*treon!

#

In some ways, it was the indignity of being caught that grated the most.

Julian Larnd grunted and tested the cuffs that held his arms behind his back once more, but the enchanted steel gave nothing, securing him to the thick support pillar. Damn damn damn! He should have realized the inn was in league with the cult. It was the perfect hiding place for members! But he’d had no indication their influence had spread so far.

He sighed, leaning back and banging his head with a dull thunk against the pillar. Not much of a cell, but secure enough. He glared ruefully at the dim bulks of barrels not far. He could still feel a faint muzziness from the drugged ale they’d given him, but it was dispersing now. There had to be a way out. There had to be! A Ranger of the Silver Bow didn’t just give up. There was a way out of this. He just had to think of it.

A creak of the door had him jerk upright, every sense keyed up. The door swung open at the top of the steps, and the barmaid from the evening before came in.

Seeing her once more, Julian realized ruefully how easily he’d been caught. Any man would have been distracted by the sight of the gorgeous woman. Especially her large breasts, held in her tight peasant bodice, though with a somewhat scandalously low cut. It took him an effort of will to look away from those plump orbs and to her face, which was hardly a loss. She was strikingly lovely in a hometown kind of way, her short red hair framing a pretty face with a small nose and sprinkling of freckles. A short skirt drew the eye to long legs and wide hips, which swung tantalisingly with her lazy stride.

Lizzie. That was the name she’d given him while serving his ale. He felt again a flush of annoyance at how shamelessly he’d flirted with her the night before, never suspecting the drink she served would be drugged.

But her allure hadn’t entirely vanished for him, testament to which was it took Julian a moment to notice the tray of bread and mug of water she carried.

“Hey there, sugar,” she said, shooting him a dazzling smile. “How goes it?”

“Oh, just great,” Julian said acidly. “I’m in raptures.”

She giggled, and Julian tried to ignore how his heart skipped at the sound. “You’re funny,” she said, placing the dish down in front of him. Yet she didn’t go at once, instead crouching before him, looking at him impishly.

Julian eyed her closely. She didn’t strike him as the sort that would be in deep with the cult. Too flighty. Those who summoned demons inevitably began to feel the corruption, becoming maddened as the power and influence of their demonic patrons infested them with their foul magics. She might be new to the cult. Which meant she might be his way out…

“Do you know what your fellow cultists are doing?” he said.

“Why don’t you tell me what they’re doing?” she said coyly.

He leaned forward. “Your ‘friends’ are seeking to feed mortal souls to demons!”

“Gosh! Is that right?” she giggled.

He shook his head. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of this,” he said. “Those whose souls are devoured by a demon soon lose any semblance of humanity. They become little more than mindless thralls, enraptured by the demon who devoured them.”

“Goodness!”

“And those are the lucky ones,” Julian growled, the thought making his blood fire with rage. “The unlucky ones are unable to offer even a token resistance. They give themselves eagerly to the demons, and as a result, are fed upon, transformed into creatures like their patrons. Monsters of cruelty and mindless obedience to the demon who devoured their essence.”

“Quite the expert, hm?” she said.

Julian snorted. “I should be. I kill them.”

“Didn’t do a good job this time, though, huh?”

Julian scowled, the reminder stinging, especially coming from such a pretty woman. “I… underestimated the cult,” he said. “But not again. If I could get free, I could banish the fiend and free its worshippers.”

“You’d do that?” she said.

“Of course!”

“Oh, but,” the redhead said, putting a coy finger to her pouting lips with thought. “What if the cultists didn’t wanna be free? What if they super duper love her?”

“They are deluded,” Julian said sharply. “Drawn to the demon by promises and the allure of the forbidden, and too late do many realize the depths of depravity they will be forced to plunge. Do you really want your friends to face such a fate? Your neighbours? To be little more than soulless, mindless puppets of a demon?”

“And if I let ya go, you could stop her?” the barmaid said, still with that teasing smile.

“Of course!”

“Even if she’s super duper pretty? What if she’s got cute horns and big, bouncy tits like these?”

Julian felt the muscles in his neck twitch as she hefted her breasts through her top. Heat rose in his face and he cleared his throat. “O-of course! Such things would not stay my blade.”

“But what if she’s got pretty golden eyes and is like, just tons of fun.”

“Yes, dammit!”

“But what if she looks like… this?”

Her eyes flashed a molten gold. Her teeth suddenly sharpened with a pair of small fangs. Her body grew, her clothes creaking under the sudden swell of her figure. Her chest tore the lacing of her blouse, her skirt ripping to rags against plump thighs. Her skin darkened, turning a lurid red, and twin horns curved back like those of a goat along her hair.

Julian jerked back, gasping as a scent of smoke and mint suddenly engulfed him. He swooned, but shook it off, squinting and glaring at the creature.

“You…”

“Aw, don’t be like that, honey!” Lizzie said with another blinding smile. “You look much cuter when ya smile. Just a cute, handsome slayer too dumb to see the demoness fawnin’ all over him. Not that you were complaining much.”

“B-bitch!” Julian snapped furiously, tugging at his bindings. “If I were free, I’d-”

“Oh sure. Sure,” she said with an airy wave. “You’d kill me. Slay me and send me back t’ the pit I’d spawned from. Which is super mean a ya, by the by. Because I love it up here! So much fun and pretty boys and girls just lookin’ for a good time. And why shouldn’t I give to them? They loooove it.”

“You are a monster!” Julian snapped. “A creature of darkness and sin.”

“Totes! But that’s what makes it so fun, right?” she said with a twinkle of a smile.

“But hey,” Lizzie continued, scooting closer, grinning wickedly at him. “I’m a fair girl. So tell you what I’ll do. I’ll undo your cuffs in five minutes.”

“You’re lying,” he growled.

“Nope! Cross my heart and hope to burn,” she said.

“Why the hell would you do that?” he demanded hotly.

“Well, so’s you can get those hands of yours on my big, bouncy tits of course,” Lizzie giggled, giving her breasts another bounce.

Julian choked on his rage, the sight making his mouth feel suddenly dry. He tore his eyes from the display and to her smiling face. “I’d sooner cut them off!”

“Nuh uh! You’ll want to touch them too bad. You’ll be desperate to bury that pretty face of yours between my honkin’ tits and just smother yourself like a good human. Just get yourself buried under my big, soft, titties! Just a naughty slayer. So I’ll totes do it!”

Julian tensed. “You’re mad and a liar, and we both know it.”

“No way! See? I swear it. Swear it on the Red Throne and the Black Crown.”

Julian gaped as she made a crossing gesture over her chest, and in the wake of her talon an X mark burned before it faded. An oath to the Throne and the Crown was unlike any other to a demon. To make it was to swear upon the name of the ruler of the hells themselves. It could not be broken by a creature of the infernal realms. To even try would invite a fate worse than mere death or pain.

“But… why?” Julian could only ask.

“Oh, that’s suuuuper simple,” Lizzie giggled as her hands lifted, dropped, bounced her bust before him. “Because I’m plum certain you can’t wait to kiss my big tits…”

Julian glowered, glaring at her, but found his eyes drawn once more to her breasts. To the way her hands pressed those pillowy crimson orbs together. The way they seemed almost to ripple with the bouncing motions.

Gods but those were fantastic breasts.

Not that Julian was an expert, of course. He’d always known that demons were at their best when tempting mortals with sins of the flesh, and thus he’d avoided such entrapping. Quite sensibly, of course. But even so, he felt certain that no woman he’d ever known had such… such perfect breasts. Breasts that seemed almost tailored to the motions. The ups and downs. The way they seemed to quiver as they dropped, nipples stiff and trembling when her bust landed atop her crossed arms.

“Ooooh, a real connoisseur of titties, aren’t you?” Lizzie crooned.

“I-I am not!” Julian snapped. “Such lewd displays cannot… It’s disgusting!”

“Oh you’re soooo right!” Lizzie giggled, her hands ceasing their bouncing motions, instead running over her plump orbs, stroking her titflesh, tracing the curve of her bust, her fingers swirling around the coal black of her areola. “Look at how evil my big breasts are. So naughty and sinful. So dumb and fat. And my nipples ‘r sooooo needy, ya know? Just awful, naughty things! And don’t they look all wrong without a pair of lips wrapped around them, huh? Without some cute, dumb, horny thrall just suckin’ and moanin’ like a tooootal tit slave.”

Julian felt his blush burn again. But somehow, he felt like… like she was right. Her nipples did look so… so lewd just being out there. They should be covered. And yes. A pair of lips sucking them would do that. A tongue teasing. Stroking. He wondered what she would taste like? Would it be minty? Like her perfume? Or something else? Something unique to her. Something he couldn’t even dream of.

Gods but his mouth was dry. His lips quivered and he licked them, trying not to, but not quite able to stop himself.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Still think my perfect tits are evil? Thinkin’ they’re soooo sinful and sooooo bad?” Lizzie cooed.

“O-of course!” Julian gasped.

“And you’re soooo right, sugar! But that’s what makes them fun,” Lizzie giggled as her fingers tweaked her nipples, wrenching a gasping moan from her. “Ohhh! My naughty nipples are soooo fun to play with. Humans just can’t get enough a sucklin’ on them like cute bimbos.”

“You enchant them,” Julian panted, his chest heaving. Gods, he was so hot. He could feel the heat of his body pulse through him like his veins were fire. “You… you use your… your demonic powers to… to…”

“Sure do,” Lizzia giggled. “I totes do. I use my naughty powers to make everyone fall in love with my perfect, bouncy tits! Not that it takes much. They’re all soooo ready to fall for them. Just desperate to become good, brainless bimbos for my bouncy tits.”

“I n-never would.”

“You suuuuure about that?” Lizzie teased.

Wasn’t he? Or was she trying to corrupt him now? It wouldn’t surprise him. She was a demon. But… but so what? He could resist her. Resist her big, bouncy tits. He wouldn’t let them bounce away his thoughts. Dumb his mind. And… and he only had to… had to last five minutes. He could last ten times that long. No big titted bimbo would… would get the best of him.

“Won’t get… turned,” he growled.

“Oooooh, of course you won’t, darlin’,” Lizzie giggled. “You’re soooo strong. My big, soft, bouncy tits can’t make you all silly. All dumb.”

“Y-yes. That’s… that’s right… Yeah,” Julian grunted.

“You’re soooo strong, Julian,” she giggled. “Sooo powerful. You can resist me so well. My big, soft, fat titties could never enthrall ya. You’re much too smart. Much too much ‘f a stud. Much too strong to become a mindless bimbo for my big tits…”

Julian scowled. She… she was teasing him. He knew that. Could feel it. But… but wasn’t she right? He was strong. Strong enough to resist her breasts. Her powers. He could do it. He was doing it.

Wasn’t he?

Yes. Yes, of course he was. He was resisting her. He knew it. He felt fine. A little light headed. Light and… and soft like her breasts. But that was to be expected. It was expected. It was fine. He was fine.

“Feeling dumb yet, handsome?” Lizzie cooed as her fingers squeezed her breasts together. “Feeling your thoughts getting’ all numb and floaty?”

“O-of course not.”

“Oh goooood!” she crooned, hefting her breasts, dropping them. “So goooood. You’re resistin’ me so wonderfully, sugar! I have noooo power over ya. My big tits are totally failin’ to make you fall for them.”

“Exact… exactly…”

“And whoops! It’s five minutes,” she said.

Julian blinked blankly, looked up to her smiling face. “Huh?” he said.

Clink.

Julian slowly brought his arms up from behind his back, looking in wonderment at his free hands. He raised his head to the succubus.

“Oops!” Lizzie giggled, still fondling and massaging her impressive chest. “Looks like ya won, stud! Awww. And now you can do whatever you want with me.”

Julian blinked vaguely. “I… yes. Wh-whatever…”

“Especially,” she said, scattering his thoughts anew, “since you’re clearly so powerful ‘nd tough. Soooo smart you easily resisted my big tits. You’re much too strong to get brainwashed even now. You could do just aaaaanything to me.”

He… he could, couldn’t he?

After all, he was resisting. He wasn’t enthralled. He was still fine. Perfectly fine. In fact, his head felt clearer than he could remember. He could do it. He was resisting her so easily now. He wasn’t even trying and she had no influence over him. He could do anything he wanted…

“Like bury your face between my big… bimbo… tits…” Lizzie crooned.

He found himself staring at them again. At those perfect breasts. Perfect and big. Perfect and soft. Yes. Yes, he could do that, couldn’t he? He had resisted her thus far. She hadn’t influenced his mind. He could bury his face between those flawless orbs. Feel how soft they no doubt were.

“Go on,” Lizzie crooned. “Just do it. I’m soooooo helpless, darlin’.”

Julian nodded slowly, never noticing his nodding head was timed to the bounce of her bust. He leaned forward, shuddering as he inhaled the sweet aroma of her perfume. That spiciness of mint. Closer. Closer. Her breasts filling his vision. His world.

He felt her hand on the back of his head, urging him further forward. He took a shuddering breath as his face was eased into the valley between her breasts, a whimper escaping him as those glorious orbs squished around his face. Soft as clouds. Out of this world...

“O-ohhhhh,” he moaned.

“Isn’t that niiiice?” Lizzie said, her voice dulled by the softness pressing against his ears, yet seeming to vibrate through her and into him. “Ain’t it so relaaaaxing being between my big, bouncy boobs? So easy to relax. And you can toooootally relax, right? You’re super strong and brave and all that stuff.”

He was, wasn’t he? Julian smirked to himself at how easily he had overcome the succubus. Such a simple thing. But that was why he was the hunter, and she the prey.

“Hey!” Lizzie giggled overhead. “I bet you’ve been wanting to kiss my big tits a whole bunch, huh? You could totally do that too! I can’t stop you at all. I’m already beaten by you. Just helpless before the big, strong hunter.”

Julian laughed to himself. She was so dumb! She still sounded like she was teasing him. But that was silly of her. She was utterly at his mercy. But he supposed he shouldn’t expect too much from a dumb bimbo like her.

But she was right about one thing. He could totally kiss her breasts. And he’d wanted to for so long. And why not? He was totally in control. Utterly in command. He chucked to himself and pressed his lips against her breasts. Once on each side. The taste tingled on his lips and tongue. He was right. She did taste a little minty. But again, there was something deeper beneath that spice of flavour. Something smoky and alluring. Attractive yet nameless.

“Ohhhh! That’s iiiiit!” Lizzie moaned, squeezing his head further into her bust. “Kiss my big tittes, mister big mean hunter. Lick my needy nipples! Oh gosh. Oh gosh, i’m sooooo totally at your mercy! Just a poor, dumb bimbo slut who can’t resist the big bad hunter!”

“That’s… that’s right,” Julian growled, his tongue feeling thick, his voice slurring as if with drink. But he’d gotten over the ale. He wasn’t drunk anymore. He was totally in control. He could do anything. She was his. His captive. His… his…

“Wanna fuck me?”

Julian lifted his face from between her breasts, staring at the smirking visage of the demoness. “Wh-what?”

Lizzie giggled, her hands touching his head, pressing him back into her breasts, his mouth and nose sandwiched in that blessed softness. “Wanna fuck me?” she purred. “Want to pound that big, manly cock into my pretty pink pussy? Wanna make me scream and beg for more? Wanna to really conquer me, pretty boy?”

Julian stared, his sluggish mind struggling. There… there was something… something wrong about that. Something bad. He could feel it on the tip of his tongue. It… it would feel good but… but…

“Y… you’ll drink my… my soul if I… if I do,” Julian finally managed to say.

“Noooo, silly!” Lizzie cooed, petting his head, smoothing back his hair and making his nose and cheeks bounce softly against her heavy titflesh. “That’d only happen if I’d beaten you! But who ever heard about a hunter who beat a succubus getting his soul drained? That never happens!”

That… that did sound right. It made sense. Didn’t it? It must. He’d always been warned that if a hunter lost, a succubus would inevitably fuck the soul out of him. But he’d never heard of triumphant hunters getting their soul drained. At least, he didn’t think so. Some detail about that was bothering him. But he was having a very hard time figuring out what that was as her breasts squished around his face. So soft. So warm. The scent of mint and the musky huskiness filling his nose and head with swirly fumes.

“Go for it, cutie,” Lizzie cooed, still stroking his head. Soothing his worries. “You deserve it.”

He did.

He did deserve it.

He’d bested the succubus.

He’d conquered her.

Resisted her.

He deserved some fun.

He deserved some pleasure.

He deserved to take what he wanted from this dumb, busty bimbo.

Yes.

Yes.

He deserved it all.

And he would take it.

He pushed her back, Lizzie gasping, then giggling as she fell to the floor. She gazed up at him, her cheeks flushed an even more lurid crimson. She opened her arms, and Julian didn’t even think twice before pushing forward. Kissing her hard. Fiercely. He felt her hand on his pants, tugging them open. His cock came out, throbbing, pulsing. Yes. Yes! He’d fuck this bitch. This fucking whore. This demonic slut. He’d show her!

“Ohhhhhh!” he groaned as he felt the tight heat of her pussy close around his cock. Squeeze his tender manhood. His body began to thrust, pounding his cock into her, the bouncy orbs of her breasts inches before his eyes, swaying with every frantic thrust into her.

“Yes!” Lizzie cried. “Yes! Fuck me! Make me cum! Tame me! Tame me with your big cock! Oh fuck. Fuck yes! Yes! Don’t stop! Ohhhh! Don’t stoooop! Make me cum! Make me your bitch! Cum in me! Cum for me! Cum for Lizzie!”

Julian panted, gasped, his head throbbing. Pounding. His body rocking as he furiously thrust into her with ever greater urgency. He had to cum. He needed to cum! He had to cum and finally show her… show her what he was made of!

And it was so good. So wonderful! Her pussy was like a perfect sleeve around him. Rippling around his cock. Warm and eager. Pulling him into her almost lovingly. Julian moaned and whined as he increased his pace. His orgasm was so near.

“Cum! Cum with me, pretty boy! Cum with mistress! Cum for meeeee! Ohhhhh!” Lizzie cried as her inner walls suddenly clamped around him, squeezing him.

And Julian came.

His orgasm surged through him like a great wave. It tingled from his toes and fingers, rushing through him and into his cock. He cried out, shuddering as he released inside her. As he spurted his hot load in her.

“Yesssss!” Lizzie groaned, shuddering as he came, her own orgasm seizing her in that glorious moment, her pussy milking him while her breasts heaved at the sudden intensity of orgasm. Her arms grabbed Julian’s head, pulled him into the cushions of her breasts.

Julian moaned, vertigo spinning him. He felt like he had been balancing on a precipice, and suddenly had toppled over. His eyes rolled back, weakness aching through him as his cock surrendered, spurting a last few times. Aftershocks robbing him of strength.

A sudden emptiness filled him. Julian groaned, his head lolling back between her breasts, looking up at Lizzie’s face.

The succubus smirked down at him, radiant. Not just radiant. Glorious. Her skin glowed softly, her eyes sparking with delight and malice, her lips lifted in amusement as she gazed down into Julian’s glassy eyes. Soulless eyes.

She pet the former hunter’s head, and her touch shuddered through Julian like white hot ecstasy. “Who’s my pretty bimbo pet?” Lizzie asked.

“M-meeee,” Julian droned, his jaw sagging in dumb obedience, entranced by the sight of the woman who had devoured his soul.

Lizzie giggled, pulling his head back between her soft breasts. “You know it, sugar! Ooooh, you’re gonna be such a good bimbo for mistress, ain’tcha? I can’t wait to show you off to the other girls.”

Julian glowed from her praise, blushed against her breasts. Yes. Yes, he couldn’t wait either. Couldn’t wait for mistress to do whatever she wanted. Couldn’t wait to show he was such a good bimbo for her.

He nuzzled her breasts, moaning as her pussy squeezed his tender cock once more. Yes. He was going to be a good thrall.

A good slave for mistress Lizzie…

[updownlately]

i'm so furious (at you for making me feel this way)

| leah williamson x reader | a little sprinkle of angst, a little hint of fluff | 2.4k | a/n: another req! this one's based off the song 'gorgeous' by taylor swift and as usual, it's not at all proofread. honestly took a completely different direction as i was writing it but eh. to whoever requested it, my bad it took a while- hope you like it! happy reading folks!

~~~

“What? You’re not gonna say ‘hi’?”

Eyes rolling at the cocky voice directed your way, you shook your head slightly, walking faster as you ignored the woman standing in front of you. 

You really didn’t have the energy to deal with this now, not after how exhausting your past few days, months, really had been.

Intending on joining the rest of your team at the table without a fuss, you brushed by her without as much as a second glance, letting out a breath as you got away.

Or so you thought. 

You didn’t make it more than a couple steps past her before you felt an all too familiar hand wrap around your wrist, your moments stilling at the force. 

Huffing, you didn’t bother turning around, instead choosing to speak loudly so you wouldn’t have to look at her. 

“Leah, let me go…”

“Stay a minute? Let me buy you a drink.”

You could feel the smirk in her voice as she spoke, it already infuriating you as it had many times before, this time without you even having to see it. 

Clenching your jaw, you dropped your voice, still looking straight ahead, nearly empty glass held precariously in your other hand.

“I’m not in the mood to talk.”

Hearing a scoff in response, you made a move to tug your wrist out of her grip, failing to do so as it instead tightened slightly.  

“Not in the mood to talk, yet you’re talking to everyone here but me?”

The accusation was followed by a laugh but you knew Leah well enough to know she was anything but joking. 

Turning around to meet ocean blue eyes, you pursed your lips as you narrowed your eyebrows, not in the mood for any of the midfielder’s shenanigans. 

“Take it as a compliment…”

With that, you twisted your arm sharply, effectively breaking out of her hold as she held your gaze. 

“And what would be the compliment exactly? You hate me enough to ignore me?”

You froze slightly as she took a step closer, letting out a shaky breath as her piercing eyes peered into yours. 

Swallowing hard, mind racing with memories of when you used to look into these exact pair of eyes fondly, having been teased by your shared teammates thousands of times, you felt your heart tighten slightly, a dull ache making itself known. 

Trying to seem nonchalant, you shrugged in response, your slightly intoxicated state causing the following words to slip out of your mouth before you could even think about the consequences.

“That you look so gorgeous it makes me mad you aren’t mine…” You mumbled bitterly. 

The ‘anymore’ goes unsaid, but you know she heard it too, her head tilting as a small smile crossed her face. 

Despite having broken up nearly a year ago, the blonde hadn’t gotten over you. No matter how many people she had met, dates she had been set up on, times she had been asked out, each and every time the English captain tried to get over you, she had failed miserably, always finding herself comparing her companion for the date to you. 

It was getting ridiculous at this point really. Even if she wanted to get over you (spoiler: she didn’t), she couldn’t. 

Memories of the way you’d always shoot the blonde a grin, even in the worst of times, and how you’d always beg her for piggyback rides after games unforgettable to Leah. 

The countless times you had spent late nights and early mornings together, talking about nothing and everything, bodies curled up against one another as an easy air filled the room. 

The innumerable times you had tried (and failed miserably) to teach the blonde how to cook, it always ending up with her banished to sit on the counter as you would try to save the catastrophe she would somehow manage to cause (and later apologise for with infinite cuddles and kisses). 

It was all that was on her mind, a piece of her knowing you had been the one, the one she had and then lost. 

Months of anxiously waiting for you to even be in the same room had led to tonight, dinner and drinks with your and her national teammates, the two teams having just played a friendly in London. And the blonde would be lying if she denied the fact that she had today’s date saved in her calendar since the game had been scheduled.

“Can’t bear talking to you…” you muttered the words under your breath, mind a frenzy with her perfume infiltrating your senses- the same perfume you always loved smelling on the hoodies you’d steal from her years before.

You watched as Leah’s smile disappeared at your words hushed words, a disappointed look taking over her face at your words, the hurt clearly visible. 

Your heart sank as you watched the change. Realising how those words sounded, you quickly began to backpedal. Just because she wasn’t yours anymore didn’t mean you cared any less for her. 

Stammering out, you blushed in embarrassment as the words fell from your lips.

And as you did, you wondered if maybe, just maybe, you should’ve stopped after the fourth drink like your friends had suggested. 

“Can’t say anything to your face because every time I look at you it makes me furious that I’m not over you yet- that I still feel this way even though you’ve moved on…”

Eyes downcast as you trailed off, you curled slightly in on yourself, self-conscious of the feelings you had make known, the knowledge that they were very much one sided unsettling.

It’s why Leah’s retort caught you off guard, the softly whispered words, quiet enough that you almost missed them, tilting your world on its side.

“Who said I have…”

Whipping your head up, you watched the blonde took a sharp breath in, clearly caught off-guard by her own admission. 

Almost believing her for a minute, you shook your head in disagreement. 

“Pictures don’t lie Leah…the girl you were with the other day? All cozied up first at a club, then Ibiza?”

“You keep up with me.” The statement was accompanied with a cheeky grin, the other girl avoiding your question completely. 

Feeling a smile creep up on you at her cheekiness, you clenched your jaw. You couldn’t believe you were falling for her charm again.

“You know what, you have a point…I’ll stop.” The cold words came out cleanly, nearly emotionless as you did your best to give her nothing to work with.

You didn’t know if you could survive falling for her again, and you didn’t want to find out. 

Leah didn’t mind expressing her distaste at your statement however, the protest immediate. “You don’t have to…”

“Oh no but I do- you ruined my life you know?” 

You words were emotion laced this time, mind hazy with the alcohol thrumming through your veins, a stark contrast to your sentence before- the anger you had pent up over the past year finally coming to light. 

“Me?! How?”

“By loving me and then leaving me…by not being mine!”

“You were the one who left! And she’s just a friend, honest!” The Gunner put her hands up in the air, a genuine expression on her face. 

Taking a quick glance behind you and then Leah, you made sure none of your teammates were eavesdropping, well aware of their tendency to blow things out of proportion. 

It’s not like your relationship had been a secret, but you had just never bothered to confirm anything with anyone, too content in your own little bubble to let anyone else take a peak. 

Still, you didn’t need the relentless jesting of your teammates tonight- not after the emotional rollercoaster you were currently on. 

Facing the blonde again, you lowered your voice. “We were just friends too…”

The resounding ‘no’ you received was immediate, Leah’s definitive tone leaving nothing up for debate. “No we weren’t. We never were just friends. You know it.”

“Leah…”

Grabbing your wrist once more, a stern look on her face, Leah hastily pulled you to a dark corner of the bar, you both hidden in the shadows as she turned to face you, eyebrows furrowed in anger, nostrils flaring, a striking change in her demeanour.

“Don’t ‘Leah…’ me. You left. You decided that you were going to move to a whole new country without asking me. You chose a long distance relationship for us without asking me what I thought. You left me. And where did that leave us? Leave me? I can’t even go on a date with someone without thinking of you!”

By now the blonde was breathing heavily as you stared, jaw clenched as you took in her words. 

“You were the one who chose to break up!”

She stepped closer to you, invading your personal space, head slightly down as she met your gaze.

“You signed the contract before we could even talk!”

“You didn’t even bother fighting for us!”

“‘Cause you didn’t even give me a chance to!“

“I-“

“You what?”

The sharp response had your eyes widening, heartbeat racing as your mind remember the chaos of last summer’s transfer window. The way you hadn’t felt at home in London wearing blue. How countless nights were spent apart from your girlfriend, the physical distance between you short, but still feeling like you were kilometres apart.

You had figured that maybe some space would’ve done you some good. It’s why you had decided to quietly sign for Wolfsburg, only telling the blonde after since she had barely been home, had barely talked to you.

Looking back now however, maybe it wasn’t your wisest decision.

Whispering quietly as the realisation hit you like a truck, your eyes widened. 

“I didn’t know…”

All you got in response was the blonde stepping impossibly closer to you, your faces inches away. 

“You wanna know the worst part? I hate that I still miss you everyday. I hate that I still wake up some mornings reaching out to your side of the bed. I hate that the only time I see you is when I see pictures of you online. I hate that the first time I’m seeing you in nearly a year is in a dingy bar with the rest of our drunk teammates milling around when this past year could’ve been so different for us. I hate that I can’t have you. I hate that you aren’t mine”

The frustrated words slowly morphed into those of defeat, leaving you breathless- the declaration, the sentiment of Leah’s words not lost on you. You definitely didn’t expect the night to go like this.

You didn’t know what to say, mind reeling at the fact that you weren’t the only one who hadn’t gotten over your relationship. To be fair, you didn’t know how many people got over a two, nearly three year relationship quickly, but with all the social media posts and the stories you would hear about the blonde from mutual friends, you had figured she moved on pretty quickly.

You’d clearly been wrong though.

“I-”

Pleading ocean blue eyes looking in yours, you let yourself sink and drown in the emotions swimming in the orbs.

“I-…I’m sorry.”

Swallowing hard, you contemplated on telling the blonde the news you’d been holding back for the better part of a month, the summer international season wrapping up today and giving you way to make an official announcement soon.

You saw as Leah observed you closely, her head tilting to the side as she sensed you were holding something back, her knowledge of you from when you dated not lost in the slightest.

You stared blankly as her eyes went wide, her stepping away from you as the gears in her brain turned. 

“Oh my god, please don’t tell me you have a girlfriend or someth-“

Shaking your head quickly, eyes widening at the worldly incorrect guess, you placed your hands on her waist, immediately pulling her back, her warmth alluring, her presence a comfort you had missed dearly and didn’t want to lose for  even a second.

“No. God, I couldn’t even if I tried. Trust me, you weren’t the only one who couldn’t move on…”

Comforting the blonde with your shared emotions of the past handful of months, you relaxed yourself, the admission lifting the weight off your shoulders, no need for you to pretend you were okay without her.

Taking a deep breath in as Leah neared your proximity once more, your hands travelling up to her shoulders as hers found purchase on your hips, you chose to ignore the somersaults your stomach was doing at finally being in Leah’s arms after so long.

Closing your eyes, terrified of the response you were going to get, you quickly blurted out what you had been holding back.

“There’s a high chance, and by high I mean nearly 99% done, of me transferring to Arsenal for the upcoming season…”

Having spent the last year with Wolfsburg, your one year contract had expired after the end of the league, you choosing not to renew when your childhood club put in an offer. 

Peeking an eye open to gauge Leah’s reaction, you couldn’t stop the smile that spread on your face as you saw her eyes shine with joy, a beaming grin on her face at your words. 

“Don’t lie…please…”

Shaking your head, you internally melted at how hopeful the skipper looked.

“I promise I’m not.”

At your words, you saw as her smile grew again, Leah scooping you up into her arms to hug you tightly at the news- resentment be damned- the joy of having you near drowning out any and all negative sentiments in the blink of an eye.

Feeling her grin against the crook of your neck, you rested your face against her shoulder, sinking into the familiar feeling of being her arms, a feeling you missed terribly.

And as Leah pulled back, the twinkle in her eyes paralleling the brightest stars in the sky, you smiled shyly as she rested her forehead against yours, you both silently understanding what this meant for you and for her, for you both. 

It wasn’t much, nothing resolved between the two of you, at least not yet- but it was something- a starting point. 

Soft smiles on both of your faces, you let yourself be led out, following behind Leah, hands gently intertwined and a glimmer of hope in your hearts. 

[libby-for-life]

Part 4 of Alone in Eden. Make sure to read 1, 2, and 3 before reading this. Guitarhero!

Adam was still in shock when Michael took him into his arms. He felt safe there and comfortable. Half his face hurt from where Lilith grabbed him and Michael had looked over him worriedly, tracing parts of his face.

Lilith and Lucifer were bound in chains before the Angelic choir and the Lord himself. Adam had only seen Him once when he was created. While He had a stern expression, His eyes held a kindness he instinctively knew was genuine despite having never experienced kindness.

"Father, Adam's face is bruised," Michael said angrily as he held a numb Adam. "Lucifer and Lilith have eaten the Fruit of Good and Evil. And they celebrated their rebellion by fornicating under the tree itself. Furthermore, when Adam caught them in the act, they chased him down. If I hadn't come to Adam's aid, who knows what they would have done to him?"

Lucifer and Lilith yelled through their gags, thrashing and glaring at all of them. Adam couldn't bear to look at them so he hid himself away, burying his face into Michael's robe.

For a long time, the Lord looked down at Lilith and Lucifer. His once favorite angel looked scared while Lilith glared defiantly. He nodded, as if coming to a decision.

"How dare you disobey me." It wasn't a question. It was a statement that made Adam shiver. "I give you life. I give you immortality. I give you no fear, death, or pain. And this is how you repay me? You selfish creatures."

The Lord stood before them, everyone could feel his anger and disappointment, and yet he remained calm outwardly. Like the two before him weren't worth losing his temper over.

"It appears I was far too lenient with you, Samael. Or do you still try to use the name you gave yourself to feel more important?" The Lord cocked His head. "It does not matter. I gave you too much freedom and you use it to corrupt my creation. You introduced her to Knowledge she wasn't ready for. Fools."

Now Lilith was shaking despite her glare. Lucifer looked like he was ready to pass out. "If you would have listened to me, Lilith and Adam would have been given that Knowledge when I deemed them ready. When they were done developing. Instead, you gave her something she wasn't ready for and it has already corrupted her."

Lilith spat out the gag, ready to yell most likely, and yet the Lord simply waved His hand. Suddenly, any sound she tried to produce didn't come out. Her eyes grew wide and terrified. To have such a vital part taken away on a whim...Adam bit his lip as Micheal gently stroked his back and neck.

"You talk far too much when you should be listening." The Lord said. He seemed to grow. "I know what you planned to do with Adam if Michael hadn't gotten to him in time." This time, Lilith looked like she was ready to pass out from fear. "You're lucky my son did come or your punishment would have been tenfold."

The Lord looked furious and yet He still didn't yell. Adam supposed He didn't need to. "Now, for the consequences. Samael, or should I say Lucifer, for disobeying Me, for corrupting The First Woman, and for standing by and letting Lilith hurt Adam, you will be banished from Heaven and Eden. You will no longer be allowed to step into its golden gates nor gaze upon what used to be home. You will forever wander the Earth for eternity with no contact with any other angel for they will attack you on sight." Lucifer glared up at his Father but didn't say anything.

"Lilith. For eating the fruit, for disobeying Me, for trying to hurt Adam, and what you've thought of doing to any of the children you bared with Adam, you will also be banished from Eden. You will forever wander the Earth but it won't be for eternity. Instead of being immortal like you were given, I strip that away. You will grow old. You will become weak over the years and eventually, you will die." Suddenly, Lilith shook as a large hand went to her stomach. "You will also never be able to have children. I will not let you try to bash any child's head in, even if that child is a bastard."

Lilith would have done what to their children?! Adam knew she didn't like the idea of having a child with him but to...to...Adam couldn't even finish the thought. He didn't realize he was crying.

The Lord turned from them to Michael. "Send them off." And He was gone like He was never there.

Adam felt himself grow sleepy as if he were—he didn't even finish that thought as he was put to sleep in Michael's arms. The Archangel handed Adam to Gabriel where he whisked him to the safety of Eden. Michael drew his sword with a glare and walked forward to the rebels.

Lucifer looked at Michael and spat out his gag. "Michael, please—" The Archangel slapped him in the face. "How dare you beg for mercy when Adam did as well and you refused? You're a coward, Lucifer. Our Father was right. We were all too lenient with you and your rebellious ways. I even started calling you Lucifer instead of your given name, Samael. I made every excuse in the book for you. But no longer." He raised his sword and opened a portal to a barren land.

"I hope whatever you have with the whore here was worth it, Lucifer. Enjoy her while you still have her." Lilith must have been given her voice back because they both screamed obscenities as they were shoved out. Michael sighed as the portal closed and he sheathed his sword.

XxX

Adam woke up to something warm and comfortable surrounding him. He looked up and saw Michael looking down at him with a small but genuine smile that made the First Man's stomach fill with butterflies.

The only thing he could say was, "You came for me." Because Michael had promised he would come and he did.

"Of course I did, Adam. I will always come for you."

(For anyone wanting confirmation, yes, Lilith planned on murdering any child she gave birth to that belonged to Adam and she had planned on killing Adam ro keep her secret with Lucifer.)

[attackurheart88]

Ooo if it’s okay, can I please request a Soft Yandere Morpheus x fem!innocent!human!reader where she somehow accidentally ends up in The Dreaming and Morpheus is fully ready to let out his wrath at her intrusion, but after talking to her spending time with her, he decides he doesn’t want her to leave, ever, and intends to make her his Queen

You weren't supposed to be here.

Morpheus watched in the shadows as the woman hummed peacefully to herself weaving flowers unaware of the danger lurking behind her. As soon as Mathew alerted him to your presence, Morpheus teleported over in anger. It was only a few months since his capture and his dislike of humans had increased greatly. The dreaming was the only place where he could live peacefully without any worries or fears he would not let a human ruin it.

The birds flew away and the deer and squirrels were quick to scurry. Once Morpheus made himself known the happiness in the air dissipated. He watched as you tensed finally feeling his presence and turned.

“Who are you?” his voice wasn't raised yet it carried such force you were quick to back up. “You're not supposed to be here.” he snarled.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn't know I just sorta appeared.” Your voice was so soft and sweet. It suited you. “I didn't mean to trespass, my name is Y/n.” Morpheus stared blankly at your outstretched hand. You were being kind? Why? You were clearly afraid so why go through the trouble? Was it a trick? A way to get into his head?

A small peep drew his attention behind you. There was a bird wounded by your feet. Morpheus anger sparked up again. “You dare come into this forest and harm its inhabitants.” A sudden force flings you back into a tree.

“Ow.” you slid down painfully watching in horror as he made his way closer. “Wait, please! I didn't hurt it. It fell from a tree I was trying to rebuild its nest.” your small hands were held up as you explained. Morpheus took notice of the small scratches and cuts on your fingers.

As quickly as that anger came it lessened.

One look at your doe eyes and tender expression had Morpheus’s head running. It contained glimpses of fear but no hint of lies. You were telling the truth.

Releasing you, Morpheus took a step back and waved his hand.

The bird flew in circles now fully healed and the scars that once littered your hand vanished.

“Incredible,” you whispered. “Thank….you.” But he was gone.

Morpheus made his way back to his palace. Scouring through the books of his library for information on you. He should have banished you, threatened you, captured you. But he didn't. He couldn't. Despite the way he acted he couldn't find any fault with you. Nor did you harbor any sort of anger, hatred, or evil in you. You were too kind. The animals of Fiddler’s Green were not welcoming to strangers and would have attacked if you held bad intentions. Instead, they danced and sang to entertain you, to please you.

Why? Why were you here? Why was the dreaming so welcoming to you? Why was it he found it difficult to hurt you? Why did he feel the urge to touch you, kiss you, devour you.

Morpheus wasn’t new to the feeling of love. But the emotions inside his chest were different. They weren’t pure or sweet or gentle. They were fierce dangerous addicting. It was only a few hours since he saw you. But his mind was flooding with images of you and impure thoughts. Thought to take you to own you to take your innocence and corrupt it. Your sweet voice will be for him to hear, your soft eyes his to gaze at, and your body? His to ravage.

You were a virgin he was sure of it. He could smell it on you, innocence and purity radiating in waves just begging to be taken away.

“Lucienne.” The woman walked over. “My lord. Have you taken care of the intruder?” “Just about to.” Morpheus smiled to himself. Lucienne furrowed her brows confused.

“Prepare a room. I want it fit for a queen.”

For the next few days, Morpheus waits anxiously for your return. He's made all the proper preparations for you transitioning as his queen. A large bed, mountains of presents, and in case there are any resisting, some lovely chains to keep you still. But he's sure he won't need them for long. Soon enough you’ll learn your place and accept your new role happily. Unlike his former lovers, there will be no mistakes as you’ll never be allowed to leave his side.

Your sniffles and sobs could be heard echoing throughout the room. Morpheus is there with his arms around you. Gentle rubs on your hair as he whispers in your ear to console you.

“I-I want to go home,” you repeated for the hundredth time. Morpheus only smiled and shook his head. “This is your home, now love.” he cooed. “There is nowhere else for you to be.”

You will soon love him and depend on him for everything. Morpheus would become you're only priority as you his. Anyone who gets in the way of that, friend or foe will suffer the consequences.

As his darling, be sure to be obedient and never escape or look in another person’s direction. The consequences will be severe. You could be starved for a couple of days or perhaps be delivered the bloody head of the man who dared to talk to you.

Morpheus is passionate about his love but is equally cruel. Slowly he’ll break you down with love and punishments until you're his perfect wife where he’ll be able to love you and cherish you to his heart's content.

[fandomsandflyingstingrays]

It took Callum a minute to pinpoint what woke him. The ache in his chest, while acute, was no stronger than it had been when he’d slipped into sleep. The wind rustled the trees outside, but in a way that was gentle and static. A way that made the sharp, shuddering sounds coming from beside him all the more obvious in comparison.

“Rayla? Are you crying?”

He fully expected to push him away, to deny it. 

“Yeah,” she said instead. 

He sat up, and she did too, allowing him to wrap his arms around her from behind and hold her while the sobs wracked her body until her breathing evened and she leaned limply against him.

There was no point in asking why she was crying. But in Callum’s long experience with grief, he’d come to realize that waves were often brought on by different triggers, came to surface in different ways. It wasn’t always a bludgeon that knocked you flat with the overwhelming reality of absence. Too often, it was a million knives, each uniquely sharpened by a different memory or missed experience, all of them ready to cut you in a different way than the last. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked softly.

“My mom’s moonberry surprise. You can get it at any café in the Silvergrove, and Ethari always made it for my birthday, but no one made it quite like her.” A wet, mirthless laugh tore from her throat. “Isn’t that stupid? She and my dad are gone forever, and I’m thinking about food. I mean— I had years to get over all this after they were banished. I’ve been getting along without them all this time. I don’t know why it’s all hitting me all over again.”

Callum bit his lip, trying to call on the part of him that had been born from a poet, trying to call on the words that would make her feel not only understood but heard. 

“My first memory of my dad is also my last one,” he said softly.

Rayla stiffened in his arms, turning around to look at him.

“It’s actually my first memory ever. Mom told me Dad was holding me, and she was holding him, so we were all together in a knot. It’s really hazy, but I can feel… arms around me, this sense of warmth. This wet breathing— my dad, probably, or maybe my mom crying. And then… stillness.” Callum sighed. “My only memory of my dad was of him dying. I shouldn’t miss him, right? I’ve lived my whole life without him, practically, and I had Harrow to fill in the gaps he left. But there are… times when I want to be held, but no one does it quite right. Foods that my mom says I’ve loved all my life, things he made, that just don’t taste as good as they should. Conversations I have with him when I can’t sleep, even though I have no idea how he’d reply.”

He paused, waiting for Rayla to step on the bridge he’d built between them, to offer her own feelings on the difference between her birth parents and her adoptive ones, the ways grief had crept into her own life. Instead, her response came from an entirely different quarter. 

“Your very first memory,” she rasped, “is of being left.” She closed her eyes tightly. “I told myself I was being so noble, so sacrificing, and I left you. Just like our parents did to us.”

Callum cupped her face and gently brought it to his, pressing a quick, soft kiss against her lips. “No, you didn’t,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. “You’re right here.”

Feeling her brow wrinkle in confusion, he pulled back and took her hand, tugging her to her feet. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”

They slipped out of the Nexus’s guest bedroom and into the garden, wrapping their arms around each other as a defense against the chill in the wind. Rayla followed him silently down a stone stairwell, coming to a stop with him when they reached the metal bench at its base. 

“Do you remember this place?” Callum asked.

She nodded. “It’s where we really talked for the first time about what happened to the king.”

“That’s right.” Callum drew her down to sit on the bench, facing him, in the exact position they’d been in two years before. “That day… it was the worst day I’ve ever had, aside from when I found out about my mom. Even worse than the day I read your letter. Because being left by someone is awful, but there’s nothing worse than knowing for certain they’re never coming back. Of course you’re grieving your parents, Rayla. It’s a different kind of loss.

“I was so angry with you when you first came back, because as the years had gone by, I’d begun to believe you were the second kind of gone, and it was almost too much to bear. I thought, if I pushed you away, I wouldn’t have to deal with that kind of pain again. But the day I got the news about Harrow, when I felt like the emptiness inside me was going to eat me alive, do you know the only thing that made me feel better? It was your arms around me. It was knowing that no matter how much pain I was in, I would still have a champion to fall back on, someone brave and kind and devoted who would always be there to help me carry the weight if it got to be too much.” He leaned forwards and kissed her forehead. “And I was right.”

Rayla had started to cry again, and he gently wiped the tears away. “You were always intending to come back, and you did. I never should have pushed you away, and I’m so glad you never let me. I’m so glad you’re still here. And Rayla, I’m going to be here too. Dealing with this, knowing your parents are really gone for good, it’s not going to be easy. It’s always going to hurt. But I’m going to do everything I can to help you bear it, and I’m going to build a life with you around it. As long as we’re together, we’ll find a way through.”

“And we will be together.”

Rayla’s tears had dried, and her voice was fierce. She took his hand tightly in both of hers and pressed a firm kiss against it. 

“No more losses,” she vowed. 

“Been there, done that,” he agreed, and she actually managed a tiny smile.

“I’m scared,” she admitted. “I don’t know what comes next. But no matter what it is, I’m going to be right by your side. I promise.”

The corners of Callum’s lips turned up too. “It’s a deal.”

She wrapped her arms around him, and he held her tightly, catching her as she’d caught him, as he knew with a glowing certainty they would do for each other as long as they were able. And they stayed there, fortified against the cold, against the ache of lost souls and the terror of distant smoke, until the first rays of a sunrise blanketed them with their warmth.

[literallyjusttoa]

What’s better Christmas present than a bit of angst huh?

When Apollo was young, not yet a year old, he was banished from Olympus due to his crime of murder. Gaea called for his head, but Zeus shielded him.

“I will not rule as my father did,” he said “The boy can learn, he can be better.”

Apollo was sentenced to exile. Nine years, though he was not told this. No, Apollo was certain that he had lost his chance to join his family in the heavens. His father had spared his life, and as penance he now had to stay on the mortal realm for all eternity, alone.

The young god made due with what he had. He wandered through the fields of Greece, tending to the animals he found along the way. He would sing, as light and clear as the birds, and mortals would flock to the sound. Apollo was never allowed to linger long, but he fell in love with that feeling of warm comfort mortals seemed to carry with them, that joy that he could never quite reach. When he could, he worked, often for little reward. He wanted another taste, another glimpse of a less lonely existence. So he became a shepherd, a soothsayer, a musician, always a few steps away, watching but never being.

One day, in the middle of the coldest months, Apollo was hired by a farmer in the Vale of Tempe. He had a large herd of cattle and was in desperate need of a someone to care for them. Apollo traveled through the backroads and forests, making his way to the valley. When he arrived, however, he found no farmer, and no cattle. Instead, a lone man sat at the base of the river that flowed through the vale. The water was near frozen over, but the man did not shake. Instead, he turned, and smiled wide.

“Apollon,” Zeus said, “Olympus has missed you.”

Apollo was shocked. Had his father truly come for him? He dropped into a low bow, too nervous for words.

Zeus chuckled, low and warm, “Rise, son. There is no more need for humility. It has been decided you have done enough.”

“Truly?” Apollo asked, “May I truly join you on Olympus?”

“You may join me at home, Apollo.” Zeus responded, “Your home. Come, we shall perform a rite of purification in these waters, and then you will ascend to your throne.”

And so the rite was performed, and Apollo was cleansed. As far as the rest of the world knows, the two immediately ascended to Olympus, to the glorious applause of the other members of the divine court. Apollo took his throne, next to his dear sister, and began his immortal duties.

But there was a moment, one moment, which was kept away in that sheltered vale. Once Apollo had been cleansed, he stood at the bank, waiting for the next step. Any demand his father asked of him, he would have agreed too. But Zeus held nothing over his head. Instead, he summoned a cloak of sheep’s wool, and placed it over Apollo’s shoulders.

“A gift,” he murmured, “The golden treasures you were born with will bring you glory, but this my son… I hope this will keep you warm.”

And Apollo believed, with all his heart, that he would never be lonely again.

Time is a cruel master. As years bled into centuries that bled into millennia upon millennia, Apollo realized that loneliness would be his most constant companion. He realized that the source of this loneliness, this suffering, would often be the very man that promised to keep him warm. The fire of his father’s hearth burned everything it touched, leaving Apollo with blistered hands and a scorched heart.

But he still wore the sheepskin. When the loneliness crept into his bones. When the lightning crackled across his limbs with a burning pain, as warm as his father promised with an agony he’d never mentioned. When all seemed lost to the ground and the dust. Apollo found that wool cloak and cast it over his shoulders. Even broken promises can bring some sort of comfort. Even old sheep’s wool can bring an illusion of warmth.

I was his child once. He used to love me.

If only the bite of a king’s cruelty could be chased away as easily as the chill of a winter’s day. The wool does nothing, and the loneliness remains. Apollo shivers, and goes to rest.

[camelotsscribe]

a forbidden flame, helaena targaryen

pairing: helaena x female!reader summary: in the midst of a forbidden romance, reader and princess helaena risk everything to be together, only to be betrayed by helaena’s brother. captured and torn apart by king aegon's wrath, reader faces solitary confinement, holding onto their love amidst despair and uncertainty. warnings: angst, turmoil, captivity, imprisonment my etsy shop: camelot's scribe | letters from your favorite character

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the castle was quiet, the flickering torches casting long shadows along the cold stone walls. moonlight spilled through the high windows, illuminating the path ahead as you made your way through the labyrinthine halls. your heart raced with each step, the thrill of your clandestine mission coursing through your veins.

you paused at a corner, peering around to ensure no one was coming. the risk was high—if you were caught, the consequences would be dire. but the reward, the sight of her, made it all worth it. you took a deep breath, steeling yourself, and continued.

heleana’s chambers were at the end of a long corridor, guarded by a single door that seemed to pulse with the secrets it held. you knocked softly, the sound barely audible. a moment later, the door creaked open, revealing heleana’s familiar face. her silver hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her violet eyes sparkled with excitement and worry.

"y/n," she whispered, her voice a soft caress. she stepped aside to let you in, closing the door quickly behind you.

you were in her arms before you could speak, the warmth of her embrace banishing the chill that had settled in your bones. she held you tightly, her breath hot against your ear. "i’ve missed you," she murmured, her lips brushing your skin.

"and i you," you replied, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. there was so much you wanted to say, so much you couldn’t put into words. instead, you pressed your lips to hers, the kiss gentle but full of longing.

heleana’s hands roamed your back, pulling you closer as if she could meld you into one being. you lost yourself in her touch, in the sweetness of her lips. every stolen moment with her felt like a dream, too beautiful to be real.

but reality always intruded. she broke the kiss, her eyes filled with a mix of love and sorrow. "we can’t keep doing this," she said, though her grip on you didn’t loosen. "if aegon or anyone else finds out..."

"i know," you said, cupping her face in your hands. "but i can’t stay away. i love you, heleana."

her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she leaned into your touch. "i love you too. more than anything. but it’s dangerous."

"we’ll find a way," you promised, though you had no idea how. "we have to."

heleana nodded, a single tear slipping down her cheek. you kissed it away, tasting the salt of her sorrow. "stay with me tonight," she pleaded. "just for a little while."

you nodded, and she led you to her bed. you lay together, limbs entwined, hearts beating in sync. the world outside the room ceased to exist, and for a few precious hours, it was just the two of you.

as dawn approached, you knew you had to leave. you kissed her one last time, memorizing the feel of her lips, the way her body fit against yours. "i’ll be back," you whispered, though the words felt like a promise you might not be able to keep.

"be careful," she replied, her voice breaking. "i can’t lose you."

you nodded, pulling away reluctantly. you slipped out of her chambers, the weight of the forbidden love you shared heavy on your shoulders. as you made your way back through the castle, you prayed for a day when you could be together openly, without fear.

the next evening, as you prepared for another secret meeting with heleana, you were summoned by queen alicent. you felt a shiver of dread as you entered her chambers, unsure of what she wanted from you.

queen alicent was seated at a large table, her piercing gaze fixed on you as you entered. "y/n, sit," she commanded, gesturing to a chair opposite her.

you sat down, trying to mask your nervousness. "you wished to see me, your grace?"

"yes," she said, her tone icy. "i've noticed your frequent absences from your quarters at night. is there something you wish to confess?"

your heart pounded in your chest, but you kept your expression neutral. "i have been restless, your grace. the castle walls feel confining at times, and i find solace in wandering."

alicent studied you for a long moment, her eyes narrowing. "i see. it is dangerous to wander alone, especially at night. you should be more careful."

"i will, your grace," you said, inclining your head respectfully.

"you may go," she said, dismissing you with a wave of her hand.

you left the room, your mind racing. did she know? or was it just a coincidence? you had to be more cautious.

as you approached heleana’s chambers that night, a figure stepped out of the shadows. it was aemond, heleana’s brother. his intense gaze bored into you, and you felt a chill run down your spine.

"aemond," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "what are you doing here?"

"i could ask you the same question," he replied, his voice low and dangerous. "but i already know the answer."

your blood ran cold. "i don’t know what you’re talking about."

he stepped closer, his eye never leaving yours. "stay away from her. if you care about heleana’s safety, you’ll end this now."

"i love her," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "i can’t just walk away."

aemond’s expression hardened, his lips curling into a sneer. "then you’re a fool. aegon will not tolerate this. he will make sure you suffer, and he will destroy heleana in the process. do you want that on your conscience?"

your resolve faltered, but your love for heleana burned bright. "i can’t abandon her."

"then you will both perish," aemond said coldly. "i will not warn you again."

with that, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving you alone in the dimly lit corridor. you took a deep breath, steeling yourself, and knocked on heleana’s door.

the door opened, and heleana’s eyes widened in surprise. "y/n, what’s wrong?"

you stepped inside, closing the door behind you. "aemond knows."

her face paled. "did he threaten you?"

"he warned me," you said, taking her hands in yours. "but he also cares about you. he won’t betray us."

heleana looked relieved but still worried. "we have to be more careful."

you nodded, pulling her into your arms. "we will be. we’ll find a way to be together without risking everything."

she clung to you, her fear palpable. "i can’t lose you."

"you won’t," you promised, holding her tightly. "we’ll find a way."

as you lay together that night, you couldn’t shake the feeling that your time was running out. but you would fight for every moment, for every kiss, and for the love that burned bright and fierce, even in the darkness.

the tension in the castle grew over the following weeks. aegon’s suspicions were evident in his sharp glances and probing questions. alicent’s watchful eyes seemed to follow you everywhere. but you and heleana continued to find ways to be together, your love a secret flame that refused to be extinguished.

one night, as you made your way to heleana’s chambers, you heard voices coming from within. you paused, listening intently.

"you’re endangering us all," aemond’s voice said, low and urgent.

"i love her, aemond," heleana replied, her voice breaking. "i can’t help it."

"you have to end this," aemond said, his tone cold and unyielding. "aegon is planning something. he’s determined to find out the truth."

your heart raced as you listened. you had to warn heleana. you knocked softly on the door, and it opened almost immediately.

heleana’s eyes widened in surprise. "y/n, what are you doing here?"

"i overheard," you said, stepping inside. "aegon is planning something. we have to be careful."

aemond’s expression hardened further, his gaze icy. "you need to leave. both of you. if you stay, aegon will find you and make you suffer."

"we have to go," heleana said, her eyes wide with fear. "we have to get away from here."

"where will we go?" you asked, feeling a surge of desperation.

"dragonstone," heleana suggested, desperation in her voice. "rhaenyra will protect us."

aemond’s eyes flashed with anger. "do you think rhaenyra will welcome you with open arms? you are risking everything for a foolish dream."

heleana looked at her brother, tears in her eyes. "will you help us?"

aemond stared at her for a long moment before nodding reluctantly. "i will help you escape. but do not think this is the end. you will always be hunted."

that night, you and heleana fled the castle with aemond’s help. you rode through the night, your hearts pounding with fear and exhilaration. as dawn broke, you saw dragonstone rising in the distance, a beacon of hope.

as you approached the gates of dragonstone, a group of soldiers blocked your path. aemond’s expression turned cold and triumphant as he stepped forward, signaling the soldiers to seize you both.

"aemond, what is this?" heleana cried out, her eyes wide with betrayal.

"i warned you," aemond said, his voice icy. "you should have listened. aegon will not tolerate this... disgrace."

the soldiers grabbed you and heleana, forcing you to the ground. you struggled against their grip, but it was futile.

"aemond, please!" you begged, desperation lacing your voice.

"you brought this upon yourselves," he said coldly, turning away as the soldiers dragged you back toward king's landing.

the return to the castle was a blur of fear and despair. as you and heleana were thrown into a cell, you clung to each other, your hearts breaking with the realization that your love had been your undoing.

days passed in the cold, dark cell. aegon visited once, his eyes filled with a cruel satisfaction as he taunted you both.

"you thought you could escape me?" he sneered. "you will pay for your defiance. both of you."

heleana tried to comfort you, her voice trembling as she whispered promises of a better future, but you both knew the truth. there would be no escape, no happy ending.

one night, as you lay together on the cold stone floor, heleana’s tears mingled with yours. "i’m sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking. "i’m so sorry."

you held her tightly, your own tears falling freely. "i love you," you said, your voice filled with pain and determination. "no matter what happens, i will always love you."

as the days turned into weeks, you clung to that love, finding strength in each other even as the darkness closed in. your love had been a forbidden flame, burning bright and fierce, but now it was a flickering ember, struggling to survive.

and as the door to your cell creaked open one final time, you faced your fate with heleana by your side, your hearts united in a love that would never be extinguished, even in the face of death.

aegon’s suspicions finally culminated in a brutal confrontation. the king, flanked by his guards, stormed into the cell where you and heleana were held. his face was twisted with rage, and his voice was cold as ice.

"y/n, you have bewitched my wife and brought disgrace upon this house," he declared. "you will be punished for your treachery."

"aegon, please," heleana pleaded, tears streaming down her face. "she did nothing wrong. it was my choice."

"silence!" aegon roared. "you have been corrupted by this... harlot. guards, take her away."

the guards seized you, pulling you away from heleana’s grasp. you struggled, desperate to stay by her side. "heleana! no! please!"

heleana’s screams echoed through the halls as she tried to reach you, but aegon’s grip on her was unyielding. "you will be dealt with later," he said coldly to his wife. "but this one will suffer for her sins."

the last thing you saw as you were dragged away was heleana’s tear-streaked face, her cries of anguish haunting your every step. you were thrown into a separate cell, the door slamming shut behind you with a finality that crushed your spirit.

days turned into weeks, and you were left alone in the darkness, the memory of heleana's touch the only thing keeping you sane. you clung to the hope that she was safe, that somehow, she would be spared.

but as the days passed, that hope began to fade. you were isolated, punished for loving too deeply, and the world outside your cell seemed to grow colder with each passing moment.

and as the darkness closed in, you held onto the memory of heleana, your forbidden flame, knowing that your love, though condemned, would burn bright and fierce in your heart forever.

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author's note: do you want a letter from helena? check my etsy for detailed personalized letters from any character you wish. click the link below:

[thefallennightmare]

Mercy-one

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Fallen Angel!OC

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, smut, mythological talk, violence.

Summary: "Blinded by a fear of feeling, these are the kings we chose. Lost and looking for the meaning, I've been searching high and low" It came crashing down on him. This is the story of the highest banished angel from where she came only to find home in the arms of a mortal man. This mortal realizing he'd face Lucifer himself to keep her.

Lethia: Archangelus Oneironaut also known as Archangel of Dream Walking. Across worlds and dimensions, she walks within. Uncovering dangerous secrets, leaving her cast out, isolated- that is until she begins to learn what it means to feel.

Authors Notes: Here we go! Now this is an AU but I will keep things true to life with Bad Omens and Noah as possible! Also, this is NOT a reader insert fic. I decided to create a character for this.

Tags[OPEN]: @thescarlettvvitch

LETHIA

The wind whipped widely through my hair, smacking me in the face, as my limbs thrashed around with such force I cringed in pain. I could see the clouds out of the corner of my eyes as I fell through them, with no sense of comfort protecting me. I choked on a sob when I noticed parts of my long, golden, hair was being singed from the rate of the fall. I held my hands in front of my face to watch in horror as the once short nails grew in length and darkness. 

“Wh-what?” 

How did it get like this? All because I chose to follow someone else instead of the almighty King? How was that fair? I’d been loyal since creation, one of his most loyal servants, but the second I thought of something different than the divine plan, He cast me away. 

“Leth, follow me to the ends of the darkness. For we can create our own Kingdom and rule.” 

My eyes screwed shut at the familiar voice as my throat burned with the thought of him. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was close by, surely he had to be. I was thrown from the Kingdom first, Lucifer not far behind. 

The air around me began to thicken, grasping around my throat with such force, that I clawed there with my newly fresh nails. Blood dripped from the wounds but none of that mattered to me; I simply stared up towards the sky where my former home disappeared through the clouds. I could try and climb my way back, as far as my wings would allow. But I knew, like Icarus, if I climbed too high to the sun, I’d fall into the unknown jungle below. 

Icarus was a fool. 

My ears rang loudly from the sudden change in altitude and I looked towards the left, almost crying out when I took in the most recent alter to my appearance. Bright wings that mirrored the colors of the clouds surrounding me were no longer pure. No, they were dark with the tellings of my betrayal. 

“My King, forgive me!” I cried out seconds before my body fell to the hard soil below; darkness overtaking my vision.

NOAH

Slamming the car door shut with a long sigh,  I walked from the street, up to my house. I took in the variety of cars, realizing that one of the guys must have invited a few people over tonight. Usually, I never minded when we had small get-togethers, but tonight I did mind. It wasn’t anything anyone in particular did, my mind was just filled with the same dream I’d had the last seven nights in a row. 

Black feathers. Even darker hair. Cream-colored skin. And vibrant red eyes. 

At first, I chalked it up to being a random dream but as the nights progressed, the dream continued with the same figure. 

One night they were sitting on the edge of my bed. The following night, they were perched on top of the roof of my house, watching the street below. Last night, the figure was in bed with me as my lips trailed over the curvaceous lumps of her breasts. 

I ran a hand over my face as I neared the front door, taking a deep and steady breath. I thought about asking my therapist about these dreams but now that they were getting more intimate, I decided against it.

“It's just a dream, Noah,” I told myself while my hand reached for the door. 

A groan halted my movements and I turned swiftly on my heels back towards the driveway. But all I heard was silence; besides the loud music coming from inside the house. 

Shrugging, I took one final step towards the threshold until a groan sounded again, only this time louder. It sounded as if a large bird fell from the tree hanging overhead, feathers fluttering in the air.  I dropped my bag on the front porch before taking the steps back down two at a time towards where I heard the groans of pain; in between Jesse’s and Orie’s cars parked in the driveway. 

“Fuck,” I cursed seeing the crumbled body. 

Head snapped to the side, dark tendrils of hair covering her face, and an arm draped over her midsection. I winced as I saw the contortment of it, knowing that it had to be broken. 

Where the hell did she come from? 

There was a sudden surge that spread from my heart to every vein inside of me; flowing through in shocking waves. I couldn’t place it but seeing this figure in front of me, there was something so familiar about it; her. A painful groan fell from her lips and I breathed in relief, almost forgetting to check if she was alive. I’d been so entranced in her familiarity. 

Gently scooping the body up into my arms, the dark hairs fell away from her face and I sucked in a breath when I noticed there were fresh cut marks along her cheek, and blood dripping from her ears. I rushed her inside, gaining stares from my roommates, who immediately stopped the music. 

“What the fuck?” Orie’s voice was raised. 

I shook my head while setting her on the couch in our living room. “I don’t know, man.”

Our house was packed with random faces; some I recognized, others I didn’t. I knew there was a party tonight but suddenly, I wanted everyone that didn’t live here out. 

Folio, who noticed my expression, waved a finger in the air. “Alright, I think it’s time to end this party. Thanks for coming, everyone!” 

Pretty quickly, everyone who didn’t live there or weren’t part of Bad Omens left the house. 

“Where did you find her?” Nick asked.

I hesitated. “That’s the thing. I found her lying broken in the driveway.”

“The driveway?” Jolly gasped. “How long had she been out there?” 

I shrugged while brushing away the stray hairs from her face, hearing a soft but painful breath falling from her dry, cracked lips. My eyes grazed down the line of her neck down to the swell of her breasts that were barely covered by the tattered black shirt; it looked as if it was burned off. I tossed a blanket over her to help cover her modesty. 

Something glinted in my vision and I looked back at her neck to see a golden chain hanging loosely between the valley of her breasts. My heart dropped to my stomach as the reality slammed into me. 

I’ve seen this chain before; in my dreams. My lips tasted that chain in my dreams. 

My hands shook at my side as a shaky breath escaped from my throat and Jolly called my name. 

“Hm, what?” I turned to look at him. 

He ran a hand through his hair. “Should we call the police? She looks like she’s been attacked.” 

“No,” I said a little too suddenly. “She just needs a place to rest. We don’t know what happened. I’ll ask when she wakes up.” 

I slowly sunk into the chair across from the couch, resting my elbows on my knees, watching the rise and fall of her chest to make sure she was still breathing. 

Jesse stared down at her from behind the couch and let out a low whistle. “It’s a miracle that she’s even breathing right now. We should probably wrap her arm. It could be broken.” 

Just then, Michael returned with our first aid kit and handed it to me. I took it with a small smile and started rummaging through it to look for the hydrogen peroxide and cotton balls. The least I could do while she slept was clean the wounds on her face. 

The softness of her face twisted as the sting of peroxide sunk deep within her wounds and when a whimper fell from her lips, my cock twitched in my jeans. Images of her lying spread wide in my bed for me flashed in my mind and I did my best to push them to the back of my brain. 

“How did she end up in the driveway? Looking like this?” Orie asked as he finished wrapping up her arm. 

“I don’t know,” I sighed while sitting back in my chair, eyes still trained on her. “With how I found her, it looks like she fell from somewhere.”

Jolly shook his head as he sat on the armrest of the couch, also watching the stranger. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

All seven of us stood around the body laying on the couch, wondering and watching to see if she would wake. 

“Maybe she’s an angel,” Jesse snorted, trying to ease the sudden tension. 

“Angels don’t exist,” my eyes snapped up towards him. 

Jesse held his hands up. “It’s a joke, Noah. But you have to admit it’s a little weird.” 

I ran a hand over my jaw and nodded. “I know. I couldn’t leave her out there, though. Once she wakes up, I’ll take her wherever she wants.”

“Luce,” the woman croaked out, head turning towards the side. 

Her voice rang out in song, echoing throughout the house, and my heart rose in my throat hearing how eternal it sounded. I barely knew anything about her but I couldn’t ignore the way my soul felt connected to her. Maybe it was because of seeing this form in my dreams or fate that I found her in my driveway, almost as if I was destined to help her. 

“What did she say?” Nick questioned. 

 Folio shrugged while leaning over her. “Luce? Maybe that’s her name?” 

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open and with one swift movement, the woman had her legs wrapped around Folio’s midsection and him pinned to the ground. Her good forearm was pressed deep into his neck while he lay frozen underneath her.  All of us were on our feet but none made a move to stop her, not knowing if it would ultimately help or make things worse. 

“Who are you?” 

The venom in her voice was cold as ice. 

“Ni-Nick,” Folio choked out. 

The woman tilted her head towards him. “Where am I?” 

Taking a tentative step towards her, I placed a soft hand on her shoulder. “I found you outside.” 

It was as if my touch meant nothing to her, eyes still burning deep into Folio. It wasn’t until I spoke again that she finally noticed I was touching her. 

“You’re hurt. I brought you inside to help you.” 

Before I could register what happened, I felt myself being pinned up against the front door, fiery red eyes staring deep into my soul. With all the doubt that plagued my mind the last hour as I watched her sleep on the couch, I tried to tell myself that I didn’t know who she was. It was all a coincidence that parts of her reminded me of the figure I dreamed of.

But the moment I saw those bright red eyes, I knew that all the doubt was wrong. This was the same woman I dreamed of the last seven nights. 

LETHIA

With my nails digging into the fresh skin of the man in front of me, I assessed every inch of his face. The brown eyes widened in slight horror when my nails dug deeper and I took in the way his lips parted, breaths coming out broken. His long hair was held back by a clip but strands still fell into his face and I cocked my head to the side when I realized something drastic. 

Well, a few things. 

First, I couldn’t feel my hand around this man's throat. I squeezed harder, my face twitching in anger, when I still couldn’t feel his skin underneath my grasp. I expected to feel the erratic thrum of his pulse or his Adam's apple dip low as he swallowed. 

Instead, I felt nothing. 

No. It couldn’t be. 

I’ve heard tales of this happening to the Fallens but I never believed it to be true.  An old folks tale the other Archangels discussed over a cup of wine. 

My eyes blinked as I slowly removed my hand from the man’s throat, fingers shaking with the realization. The dark nails mocked me for my failure, scolding me for taking the darkness over the light. 

The second thing I realized? I’ve seen this face before. Moments before I fell, it flashed in my mind like a photograph, every fucking detail. The long brown hair, bright brown eyes to match, the freckles that littered over his nose and cheeks, the tattoo that wrapped around his throat where my fingers were moments before; a snake, apples, and hands. 

How metaphorical. 

“What’s going on with me?” I muttered bringing my hand to my chest, noticing it was wrapped in some kind of material. 

“You hurt your arm, we wrapped it for you,” a different voice spoke. 

My head snapped to the left, seeing another man slowly approach me. His voice sounded different than the others and I narrowed my eyes at him. 

“You’re not from around here,” I noted. 

A snort sounded from behind me causing me to whirl my body towards it, seeing yet another strange man staring at me. 

“Not from around here? Who talks like that?” 

Someone smacked him in the chest. “Michael, don’t be an asshole.” 

“I’m just saying, Nick. She wakes up in our home and attacks two of our friends. Are we supposed to allow that? We don’t even know her fucking name.” 

My tongue clicked against my teeth. “Lethia.” 

Various sets of eyes stared at me until the man who had an attitude spoke.; Michael. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

“My name-,” I spoke slowly. “-Is Lethia.”

Michael snorted. “Well, Lethia, where the hell did you come from?” 

Giving him a wave of my hand, I decided it wasn’t worth answering that question only because none of these men deserve to know.

“Who’s Luce?” 

I snapped my eyes towards the man I had pinned against the door, heart stuttering in my chest. “Excuse me?” 

He rubbed at the fresh red marks on his neck. “You said it in your sleep.” 

Lucifer. 

I licked my lips, widely shaking my head. “I need to leave.” 

A soft voice called to me. “We can take you back home.”

This man had a buzzed head and a beard. “Although, you should get those injuries checked out.” 

“I’ll heal,” I answered honestly.

Lethia, come to me.

I gazed around the room to see if that voice belonged to any of the seven of them although I knew it didn’t. I knew exactly who uttered those words. 

“I have to go.” 

The man from my vision stood tall against the door, not allowing me to leave. My jaw ticked with anger and I motioned behind him. 

“Move.” 

His brow raised. “That’s a funny way of saying thank you for saving your life.” 

“Thank you?” I chuckled darkly. “You simply did nothing for me except keep me prisoner in this home.” 

“Prisoner?” It was his turn to chuckle. “I fucking found you in my driveway, broken and bruised. The least you can do is tell us what the hell happened!”

They’ll never understand. Mere mortals never did. 

I might not understand where I was but I knew mortals when I saw one. Their smell was different than angels; some were stronger than others. Except for the man blocking my way out. It was different, his aura, and I didn’t want to admit it but it drew me into him. There had to be a reason why I saw him mere seconds before I fell from the Kingdom. 

The two of us were unmoving, not wanting to break first, and one of the men must have felt the tension because one gently stepped between us; the one that sounded different from the rest.

“Noah, let her go.” 

Something fluttered in my stomach and I nearly shook with the unknown feeling. Never in my life had I felt something like this, even during my time with Lucifer. But with this mortal, Noah, it was entirely something new and it scared me to the depths of hell. 

Noah scrunched his face with anger but eventually stepped to the side, allowing me to leave. 

“Thank you,” I mocked with a slight curl to my lip; more like a snarl. 

After two steps toward the door, I froze when something caught my attention out of the corner of my eyes. Titling my head towards the glass, my reflection stared back at me and I gasped at what I saw. 

Short black hair, black ink covering almost every inch of skin across my shoulders and arms, my shirt barely hanging one by a thread, and what shocked me the most were my eyes; crimson red, not the vibrant violet. 

“No, it can’t be,” I brought my shaking hand to my mouth. 

Suddenly,  an ear-piercing ringing dug deep in my ears and I brought my hands to them, screwing my eyes shut. My head throbbed in pain as if someone was scratching their claws there. With one eye open, I noticed Michael held some kind of device in his hand. 

“Wh-what is that dreaded noise?” I stuttered. 

“A phone? Fuck, how hard did you hit your head?” 

A what? 

When the ringing stopped, I stood taller and for the first time, took in my surroundings. Everything in this home looked different than how we lived in the Kingdom. While we had advantaged technology, we simply didn’t have things of this nature. 

“None of this makes sense,” I whispered to myself before my eyes landed on a small device on a table. 

October 12, 2021. 

I nearly stumbled on my feet when everything began to click into place. Someone during my fall, I landed in a time that hadn’t existed yet. 

Noah could tell something was off because he turned towards me, a frown pulling at his lips. “Are you alright?” 

Without saying another word, I left in such haste, I hadn’t realized what I left behind in my wake. 

NOAH

My eyes stared at the space in front of me, the door wide open as it let in the cool night air. Those red eyes haunted me in Lethai’s wake and my skin crawled when an old dream crept back into my consciousness. 

I lay in my bed, bare for her to see, Lethia’s tongue traced down my chest and then stomach to brush across my navel. I gripped her dark hair, wrapping it around my fingers to guide her head farther down. My cock throbbed with such an ache, I was sure it wouldn’t last. Beads of precum slipped from the slit and Lethia’s tongue danced around it, tasting me. 

“Fuck,” I cursed as my eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy. 

“Look at me, Noah.” 

My eyes snapped open at Lethia’s firm tone and felt my heart stop dead in my chest; her eyes were glowing red. 

“Noah!” 

Breaking free from my trance, I gazed over to Orie. “Did you say something?” 

“We did all we could, man. There’s no use dwelling on it.” 

He patted my shoulder before they all dispersed into their sections of the house. But not me, I remained frozen in my spot, still staring at the vast darkness past the threshold. There was something just outside the realm of that darkness that caught my eye, it fluttered in the wind until it fell to the concrete just outside the door. 

With furrowed brows, I bent low to pick it up, analyzing it with curious eyes. It was a black feather, at least twelve inches in length, and the softness of it was something I’d never felt before. 

“Who are you, Lethia?” I murmured to myself, holding the feather close to my chest.

[alovesongtheywrote]

Nightmare Academia P.22 | Spencer Reid x Reader

♥ Summary: In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, you and Reid reunite. And you get a little tipsy. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: alcohol mention, general softness

♥ A/N: im genuinely super happy with this chapter, have fun with it

♥ Word Count: 2741

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

“Where the fuck did you come from?”

Your voice still echoed in the otherwise silent air of the office.  You looked back out the door, down the hallway and around, searching for where Reid might have been hiding.  Spencer didn’t move.  He didn’t answer.  He just stood there, stock still in the office, staring right at you.

“Seriously, where the fuck were you?” You looked down at the bottle in your hands, “I haven’t started drinking yet.”

Again, Spencer didn’t answer, but this time he didn’t stay still.  In a split second, moving faster than he’d ever moved in his goddamned life, he crossed the room.  Before you could process how fast he’d moved, or pause to think, or take a breath, his arms were wrapped around you.  

His grip on you was strong but gentle.   His usual hesitation at human touch was banished by his fear and the intensity of the situation.  He held you close for a second- close to him like you were something important.  Something more than a thorn in his side.  Your eyes widened at the sudden contact.  It was kind of amazing that you hadn’t dropped the wine bottle in your shock.  As it was, you felt a tiny bit stunned and a tiny bit saddened.  You really needed that hug.

“I thought you were hurt.”

His voice was so soft, so quiet, that even with his lips against your ear, you had to strain to hear him.  It was odd, honestly.  Spencer usually had so much to say, but for once, he was silent.  You could feel his hands shaking against your back.

“It wasn’t me.  I’m not hurt, it’s not me.”

He pulled away before you could elaborate, “What happened?  Who’s-”  

“It’s Frank.  Someone shot him, they think it was Adam, but it wasn’t.  Now Adam needs character witnesses, and I-” Your words came faster and faster until there was no more air in your lungs.  Your hands quivered slightly, and Spencer reached out again, taking the wine bottle from you and placing it on the desk behind him before he gathered both of your hands in his.

It didn’t really help much.  Spencer’s hands were still trembling, so your hands just kind of trembled together.  It wasn’t bad, per-say.  The contact did help calm you down, it’s just that nobody stopped shaking.

“It’s okay,” Spencer reassured you, “It’s going to be okay.  Just breathe.”

“Okay,” you choked on air, very clearly not okay, “I’m okay.  I just- look, I know it’s a lot to ask because you’ve met the guy like, one time, but would you be a character witness for Adam?  It’s just, you’re a Fed.  You’re a Fed, and you know him, and that will go over really well with almost any jury, so-”

“Hey, hey,” he brought your hands closer to his chest, brushing his thumb over your knuckles over and over again, “I’ll do it.  I’ll do anything you need me to do, okay?”

“Okay.  Okay,” you took a deep breath, finally allowing yourself some peace, “Thank you.  Thank you.” 

“You don’t need to thank me.”

He gave your hands a final squeeze, almost memorizing the way they felt in his grasp before he had to let go.  You both missed the warmth instantly.  Spencer cleared his throat and took a step back.  He wouldn’t meet your eye.  He looked anywhere and everywhere but you.  It was like he was very suddenly allergic to your face.  You kind of wanted to scream.  Instead, you sighed.

“Get back here.”

“Sorry?”

“I said get back here, you motherfu-” You cut yourself off, burying your face in his chest.  You wrapped your arms around him tightly, trapping him, giving him no chance to escape.  Not that it mattered much.  Spencer didn’t want to escape.  

He returned your embrace without hesitation.  His long, slender fingers brushed long strokes against your spine.  He melted into you, resting his head on your shoulder, and in turn, you melted into him.  You grabbed a fistful of his shirt, trying to drag him impossibly closer to you, and to his credit, he let you pull him in.  The two of you stood there for a moment, letting the universe fall back into place.  Spencer felt so warm wrapped around you.  And he smelled nice.  And you realized you’d never been this close to him without him bleeding out.  And you realized that you really didn’t want him to let go.

“Sorry to jump you with affection, but I, uh-”

“Technically, I jumped you first,” he paused for a second.  His hand paused with him, stilling at the small of your back, “Please never leave me another message like that- at least not one without extensive context.”

“I scared you pretty bad, huh?” you pulled back to stare up at him, a shit-eating grin crossing your face despite the circumstances.

“Badly.  And I wouldn’t say you scared me,” Spencer’s voice pitched up as he lied, “It’s just-”

“You thought I was dead.”

He sighed but smiled, resigning himself to your victory, “Something like that.”

“Something like that,” you mocked, letting your head fall back against his chest with a dull thud.  Right then might’ve been a good time to move, but neither of you did.  You were tired.  You’d been tired for the past twenty-four hours or so.  You were moving through a living nightmare, and now that you’d found a source of comfort, you weren’t about to let go.

Comparatively, Spencer was trying to fight his nightmares- even there, standing up and awake with his arms around you, he was still fighting off his worst fears.  It was kind of hard to blame him for that.  In the past few years, he’d lost a girlfriend and a mentor to brutal and horrific murders.  Even more recently, his co-worker’s niece had been kidnapped, sold on a black market for serial killers, and nearly tortured.  The BAU was fending off a shadowy network of hitmen.  The world felt more and more dangerous every day, and Spencer was terrified that it would take more of the things he cared about.  

And he cared about you.  

“Fucking fuck you were gone for a while,” you mumbled into his chest.  You weren’t super sure that he heard it, but the soft huff of a laugh he let out gave you some confidence.

“Too long, apparently,” Spencer pulled his head away from you for a moment as he gazed back at the smut-filled bookshelves, “Though it looks like you’ve kept yourself busy.”

“Oh, that?” you asked, finally (and reluctantly) unburying yourself from his hold, “That’s been going on since before you left.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged, “You didn’t notice?”

Spencer was too busy staring at the smut to answer.

“Huh.  I guess you’re losing your edge, Doctor Detective.”

“I’m not losing my edge, I just didn’t think to look for smut in my office.”

“Well, maybe you should have.”

“Where did you even put everything?”

“Don’t worry, pretty boy.  All your books are safe and sound.  I promise.”

He stared at you for a moment.  A light pink blush painted his features- he wasn’t sure if it was because of the book about minotaur sex on his bookshelf, or if it was because of you.  It could’ve been either.  It could’ve been both.  It was probably you.

You picked up the wine bottle.

“So, uh.  Do you want a drink?”

“I’m good, thanks.  Besides, the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse found that the rate of all alcohol-related emergency department visits increased 47.0% between 2006 and 2014.  The Alcohol-Related Disease Impact application estimates that there are more than 140,000 deaths caused by excessive alcohol use in a year.  I-in other words, that stuff kills.”

“Oh.  That’s-”

“I’m so sorry, that was weird, I-” Spencer’s already massive eyes got even bigger.  He shook his head as if trying to rid his mind of all the statistics it contained.  For a second, Spencer looked a little bit like a kicked puppy- a little dog who had made a mistake and knew it was about to be reprimanded for bad behaviour.

That look physically pained you.

“That was fine, Spencer.  You’re fine,” you tried to sound reassuring, “And hey, now I know about the dangers of drinking in excess.  My original plan was to down the whole bottle, but now I’m informed.”

Spencer briefly wondered if he was cursed, because you just kept saying things that made his heart have a little freak out in his chest.  Not like, a butterflies in the stomach, he’s in love and isn’t realizing it type of freak out, but a, “Holy shit something is wrong and we lost sight of that, oops,” kind of freak out.  Or perhaps a, “Holy fuck, what is it with this person and saying things that make me panic,” freak out.

“I’m glad I informed you.”

“Me too,” you opened the bottle, “Though I do want to be clear- I decide when I die, pretty boy.  No alcohol is doing that for me.”

“I- that’s nonsensical.  You don’t really get a choice about when you die.”

“Maybe you don’t.”

You hopped up on the desk, sitting with the open wine held between your thighs.  You leaned back, peering at the drawers, but you didn’t find what you were looking for.

“I don’t think we have cups.”

Spencer crossed his arms and stepped towards the desk, leaning against it, beside you, “Do we really not have cups in here?”

You shook your head and pursed your lips, “Apparently not.  Are you sure you don’t want any?  Because I know you have a thing with germs, and once I get mine on the bottle-”

“I’m sure,” he smiled, “I shouldn’t drink, anyway.”

“Oh?  Don’t tell me you’re a sloppy drunk, Spence.”

Spencer choked on air at the sound of you using the nickname.  It didn’t matter that you were teasing him, the intimacy of the nickname was still killing him.

Trying and failing to recover, Spencer stuttered without thought, “I- it’s- someone needs to remember to get more cups.”

“Right.  Cups,” you let out a tiny little laugh, “Well, in that case.”

You brought the bottle to your lips.  The wine was pretty good.  It had been a gift, making it free to you, and free wine can never be all that bad.  While you were having a fine time with your wine, Spencer was watching you drink, studying the column of your throat,  and running his eyes over the spot where your lips met the bottle.  You were gorgeous.  How could someone doing something as simple as drinking be gorgeous?  Spencer didn’t know, but he knew it was possible because you were sitting in front of him and drinking and being gorgeous.  

Spencer kind of hoped someone would shoot him.  

“So,” you set the wine back down, “How are things with you?  I uh, I saw you took down the guy who killed your mentor- Gideon, right?  Jason Gideon?  It was in the news.”

Spencer tilted his head in confusion, “It was in the local news- and it got brief coverage from some national news broadcasters, but I don’t remember them covering it here.”

Your fingers tapped against the glass in your hands, “Well, I mean… that’s because they didn’t.  I may have done a little bit of research on the case.  And then on the BAU.”

“Really?  You researched the investigation of a case that took place several states away from you?”

“It wasn’t just any case,” you took another sip of wine.  You needed it, “It was your case.”

Spencer hoped again that some divine force would just strike him down, because you looked so pretty drinking wine- drinking wine and caring about him, holy shit.

“And then you researched a government agency that you despise?  For fun?”

“For fun.  For you.  And I’ll admit, the BAU might be a special squad of government agents generally perpetuating a fucked up system and abusing their access to a gas-guzzling jet, but… sometimes you use your powers for good.  Sometimes you use your powers for so much good that it doesn’t feel real, but…” you paused to drink, “I’m glad you caught the guy.” 

Spencer’s heart slammed against his ribs so hard that it almost hurt.  

“If you want me to, I think I can get the BAU to look into Frank’s assault,” he spoke so fast that you almost didn’t hear him.

“What?  Is that a thing you guys can do?  Just… investigate whatever crimes you want?  I thought you needed to be invited by local police?”

“Usually we do, but if a case crosses state lines, we can take over- and I think this case might.”

“Fuck- really?” you turned to face him, eyes wide and fist tight around the neck of the bottle.

“I-” Spencer paused.  He wasn’t sure what to say.  He could’ve told you about the hitman network, but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to do that- and more than that, he didn’t want you to fear for your own safety.  

He made up his mind, “Frank’s case sounds like a few others we’ve had recently.  I think they could be connected.”

“Oh,” you sat up straight, “Fuck.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“So… you could look into this case?  And you could find whoever hurt Frank and exonerate Adam?”

Honestly, Spencer couldn’t guarantee that.  He also couldn’t say no to you.

“Yes.”

You took a deep breath, “Then do it.  Please.  A-and when you find whoever shot Frank, can you do something for me?”

Spencer resisted the urge to say “Anything” by staying quiet and nodding.

“Try not to kill them.  Try to bring them to justice and send them to prison.  Some people who kill can’t be helped, but some of them can.  We… We won't know what has to be done until we know who did it, but please.  Try for me.”

“I will.”

You reached down slowly, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it, “Thank you.”

The two of you sat in silence for another minute, you drinking, him leaning, and his hand still in yours.  It was almost peaceful.  Almost calm.  And then you had to fuck up the silence with some batshit tomfuckery.

“Hey, if I ever went missing, what would you do?”

“I-” For like, the eightieth time in the last fifteen minutes, you stunned Spencer out of his words, “You’re not gonna go missing.  I won’t let it happen.”

The certainty in his voice made you want to press your thighs together.  So you did.  Spencer didn’t notice.  His eyes were on your face- the smile you shot him was fucking blinding, “That’s sweet, Spencer, but humour me.  What would you do?”

Spencer took a deep breath, “I’d get my team to help me find you.  I’d bring you home, and once I did, I’d make sure you’re okay, physically, mentally, emotionally,” he had you clinging to his every word, “And then I’d yell at you for going missing.”

“What?” You laughed out your shock at the sudden tonal change, “Do you think I’d just disappear for fun or something?”

He shrugged, “It wouldn't surprise me.”

“Good.  It shouldn’t, and I might,” you took another sip- a deeper one, exposing your neck to Spencer again.  He crossed his legs.

“But if I did vanish for fun, I would come back.”

“Would you?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded, “Nothing could keep me away.”

There was a soft pause in the conversation.  You looked at Spencer.  He looked at you.  You looked at the wine.  Spencer kept looking at you because he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“So, if I got murdered-”

“(Y/N),” he said your name like a warning.  You just laughed and leaned into his side.  

“Humour me!  Humour me.  If I got murdered, what would you do?  And there is a right answer to this one, so be careful.”

Spencer opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, your phone buzzed.  You picked it up and unlocked it, all with his eyes on you.

A bright smile overtook your face.

“Frank’s awake!” You squeezed Spencer’s hand just as he squeezed yours.  That adorable moment went unnoticed by both of you in all the excitement, “Missy’s with him at the hospital now.  It sounds like he’s going to be okay.  It’s all gonna be okay.”

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie, @iiheartbowie, @digitalhearts, @corpsebridenightamare, @ghostatrixx, @reiding-writing, @mywellspringoflife, @80katie, @ms-ks-world, if you asked to be tagged and i forgot, pls let me know!! if you would like to be tagged and aren't, also let me know!!

[sl33paholics]

Forever Banished In The Shadows

A little drabble for my cutie patootie, Jonathan ❤️ (okay as I post this, this is wayyy longer than I expected lol)

Warning(s): mentions of blood and gore, emotional distress, Dio Brando, references to cannibalism, jojo being driven to insanity in general

He should've been stronger.

He should've been wiser.

Succumbing to his loss against his vampiric-turned adoptive brother, Dio, Jonathan was ready to die in a pool of his own blood and be torn apart by his vampire brethren he would have welcomed the pain if it meant getting rid of his agony and tormenting his foes until they were all gone from his life. If anything, the battle between them made him fight harder so he wouldn't have to look at his brother's twisted face. Dio's eyes held no pity for Jonathan. Instead, they were filled with satisfaction and disgust.

Although, Dio took pity on the man. How rare. To see the man he's been dedicated to take down and overthrown, now in front of him bleeding out and the life in his eyes slowly fading away, even if Jonathan looked like such an arrogant cockroach that Dio wouldn't hesitate to crush him. He almost felt bad about it. Almost. After all, his brother has never cared for people outside of himself and what he could do for himself.

As if his life was beginning to flash before his eyes, Dio rammed the stone mask onto Jonathan's face as the blue haired male felt the familiar cold metal touching his skin, and piercing through his skull making it impossible for him to remove, or escape.

That was the moment where the heroine, Jonathan Joestar, died.

It had been months since that incident. The blue haired man is now a slave to his brother, Dio. The horrific moments he'd seen of the abuse of the stone mask being used onto others, seeing them become mindless victims and monsters without a will of their own. Doing awful deeds to the innocent and causing havoc in the town.

The way he'd see his brother suck the blood of women. Seeing their half naked bodies with dark, gaping bloody holes in their necks as they laid on the floor dead, or even throwing them and having those mutated animals feast on them as if they were nothing but prey waiting for their master to be done with them.

Jonathan felt trapped. Well, he is.

He could no longer eat human food, the need for hunger is no longer there and being surrounded by those with such a rich scent of blood made the man want to drink it right from their veins and devour them all. His body craved the sweet taste of blood. Even when JoJo doesn't drink any, he finds himself wanting more of it. And when he doesn't get enough, he wants to kill them all. It felt like suicide. Destroying his body so others won't have to suffer his uncontrollable wrath.

That was until Dio got tired of him. He found no use of keeping a man who wasn't useful. So, he threw the poor soul into the streets, just to make sure that JoJo could not do anything anymore.

Jonathan had to fend for himself. Finding shelter was a living hell. He had to resort into cannibalism to survive. He didn't want to, he didn't know how or why, but every day he woke up in the middle of the night craving some fresh blood from strangers, Jonathan would immediately devour the person in one sitting. As soon as he finished the last drop, he would vomit his guts out.

It felt wrong. JoJo was frightened of himself.

Now, here he is, salivating heavily in front of a broken mirror as JoJo's body shivers, feeling the need to feed again, the urge that was becoming stronger and stronger each time. The thirst that Jonathan couldn't ignore. If he wanted to get enough blood to live a decent life, he had to find a way. But, how?

How did he survive before? There's no point in asking himself that question since he already knew.

By the door, his lover can only watch as they sob silently, the tears streaming freely down their face and didn't say anything, they only watched Jonathan struggle to keep himself together knowing how hard it is for him and that it's killing JoJo inside. They knew that he was doing this for a reason. To keep himself safe, to keep both of you safe watching the man cough up blood.

Jonathan promised himself he wouldn't become a blood thirsty freak like Dio or his men, but at what point can he restrain himself any longer? When will he stop fighting against nature? When will he finally succumb and give in to its call?

The answer, Jonathan knew, was very soon.

It had started with his lover.

[emerald-cloud23]

Remember this idea? That post got more attention than I thought, so I just spent some time writing about that idea. I am still sick so it isn't the longest thing in the world but it sure is something. Maybe I'll continue in the future. Writing beneath the cut.

It had been a while since he was amongst the living– a few decades, to be exact. His newfound freedom was all thanks to his ninja master's newest student: the "actual" green ninja. If it hadn't been for this kid opening the gateway into the Cursed Realm to banish his own father Morro would've still been stuck in there. And now, as a way of saying 'thanks' to this kid, Morro had taken his body for his own– possessing him. The thought of encountering his old master in the body of his prized student was thrilling as he approached the tea shop he now lived in. Before possessing Lloyd he had found out that the monastery on one of the lands highest mountains had burned down a bit ago. The winds were swirling around the possessed kid as he approached the small shop, located far away from any city to notice if anything were to go wrong during Morro's mission.

When the winds outside the shop started to pick up the old man got suspicious. Something about the way it sounded felt familiar to him. A small feeling of dread began to form in his stomach, a wall of regret threatening to be broken the closer those winds came. As he watched his other four students run outside to greet their friend who had been gone for a few hours Wu held onto his hat and staff before speaking a warning to them, but of course his students didn't listen. “That's not Lloyd,” he had said, yet they still opened the shops doors and went outside. Oh, they could be so foolish for being heroes…

Morro had become aware of the fact that Wu had more than one student at the moment, the other four who were meant to protect their green hero. But Morro hadn't cared much to research about them before he had possessed the museums night guard and called for Lloyd to come investigate. A quick glance over the four seemed to be enough for him, at first. They appeared to be a bit older than Morro had been when he passed away but that was about it. The only other notable thing he picked up on that quickly was that one of them seemed to be a robot.

Just as Morro was about to tell them to step aside so he could enter the tea shop to confront Wu he eyes latched onto one of the four– a boy with raven hair and dark eyes. Something about that boy made Morro stop dead in his tracks and he ended up just silently staring at the ninja as he took in every detail of this ninja.

He knew he should've continued on with his plan, the mission he had been sent on, but something happened within him. Instead of telling the four to step aside he called out to Wu, who was still inside the tea shop. “Hey Wu, who the fuck allowed you to train hot people now?!” His voice echoed through the night, carried along by the winds that still accompanied him.

His words did not go unnoticed. The raven boy stared at his possessed friend with a shocked expression, with his three friends all staring at their raven haired friend before looking back at Morro, equally shocked. Right, they weren't even aware of Morro possessing their friend.. Oh well, what did that matter now? His words went unanswered, no one knowing how to respond to something like that.

His eyes remained fixed on the dark haired boy, his bushy eyebrows and the absolute shock on his face. Something about that look was amusing to Morro. It was an interesting mix of fear, shock but also a little bit of a smile threatening to break his tough looking facade.

Morro wondered… Why bring the Preeminent into this world to curse and destroy it if someone this pretty existed in it? He would risk this guy's life. And while it could be nice to be a ghost with him, a small part of Morro's heart feared the boy would hate him. That was something he did not want to risk, so… No Realm Crystal or Sword of Sanctuary it is.

[libby-for-life]

can we PLEASE get a part 2 of Adam being given to Lucifer and Lilith as a peace offering, maybe it would be about the two yandere trying to woo Adam, OH or maybe throwing a party for him introducing him as the second queen of hell

My my. You are a genius, my dear. Though I was thinking more Consort to the King and Queen. Read part one of the Deal.

Adam was confused, to say the least. Didn't they hate him? Didn't they leave him? Didn't they want him dead?

But as he was hugged by Lucifer and Lilith in the back of a limousine, he couldn't help but feel very confused. He shivered when he felt Lucifer's claws gently run through his hair and how Lilith's soothing humming filled the car.

"You're still so beautiful," Lucifer said, hugging him and Lilith brushed a hand over his toned stomach.

"Wait. Just wait." Adam gasped out as he felt hands roam over him. They stopped immediately and looked at him in concern. "Why are you acting like you want me all of a sudden? You made it quite clear in the Garden you didn't want me." Adam felt the hurt, bitterness, and self-loathing seep into his body.

They were quiet for a moment before he felt a clawed hand pull his face down to Lucifer's level. "Adam, we never wanted you to feel that way and we're sorry we did. We wanted you with us, but the moment we tried, Michael banned us from the Garden." Lucifer explained.

"Everything happened so fast," Lilith added. "And by the time we were banished to Hell, we had already lost you."

Adam refused to cry. What if this was a lie to lead him into a false sense of security? He had to be resilient. He had to be strong-willed. But as he felt hands caress him so lovingly, Adam felt himself melting. God forgive him, but he was a sucker for touch.

The next few months were filled with confusion and longing. He didn't trust Lucifer and Lilith but they were the only ones keeping him safe from the dangers of Hell. What if he refused them too much and he was kicked out of their home?

So when Lilith kissed his cheek, it took all of his self-control to not run away. She looked deep into his eyes and she frowned.

"I'm sorry. I went too far. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." She didn't try to kiss him again but she also didn't stop saying she loved him. Neither of them did.

Slowly, but surely, Adam realized they weren't just keeping him as some sort of sick entertainment. No one could be this good at acting and not show any tells.

So, Adam allowed them to touch him. He allowed them to give him presents instead of refusing them. He allowed them to say the words, "I love you."

And one day, he said it back. Two years. It took him two years of them consistently loving him unconditionally, but when they ate breakfast together and Lucifer gave him some pancakes to eat, his favorite, the Devil told Adam that he loved him.

Asam smiled with a blush staining his cheeks and shyly replied, "I love you, too." Lucifer dropped his syrup and Lilith choked on her tea. "What?" Lucifer asked in a small voice.

"I love you. Both of you."

Lilith smiled and hugged him close while Lucifer teared up and clung to his side. "We love you. We love you so much, Adam."

Adam didn't notice the obsession growing in their eyes. He didn't notice how they held him possessively, demon features poking out. He just felt safe and protected.

"Are you sure this looks good on me? I'm not exactly...the right shape to be wearing this." Adam mumbled, embarrassed. He was wearing a short gold dress that hugged his chubby figure. Three years in Hell and he put on some weight from the treats and gifts through food he was given. He was by no means obese, but he was definitely chubby. He also grew more demonic, his soul becoming corrupted due to being exposed to Hell for so long. He now resembled a ram, with small curly horns, a fluffy black tail, hooves, and ram ears. Ears that Lucifer and Lilith loved playing with.

"Oh, Adam. You look beautiful no matter what size you are." Lilith said as she applied makeup to her lover. Adam smiled, blushing deeply at her comment.

"I agree. Besides, it just means more to hold." Lucifer said with a smirk before caressing a hand over his love handles. Adam squeaked and swatted his hand playfully.

They were getting ready for a big party. A party that was officially introducing Adam as the King and Queen of Hell's Consort. They wanted him to be their Queen as well, but Adam pointed out that was not how the ruling system worked. He read up on the ways of Hell's hierarchy and he did not want anyone rioting because the system wasn't being followed.

"This was the system you made, might I add," Adam said when Lucifer just said they could change it. "We want them to accept me. Not be angry because you don't follow your own rules."

They finally agreed to Adam being their Consort before making sure they knew he was still important and not less than them just because he wasn't a Queen with Lilith.

Adam honestly didn't care as long as he spent all his time with his lovers.

They walked into the Palace's ballroom where all of Hell's most important figures danced or talked with each other. They looked up and bowed before the King and Queen, but looked at Adam, confused as to why a sheep demon was walking alongside the most important figures in Hell.

"Everyone. Might I have your attention?" Lucifer said, gaining the room's attention. He brought Adam forward as he blushed under the attention. "This is Adam. He is Lilith's and mine's Consort." Several gasps had filled the room and some really looked at Adam, sizing him up.

Adam tried not to squirm under their piercing gaze.

"Now, if anyone has a problem, I don’t give a shit," Lucifer said with a grin. "Let the party begin!"

Adam was having fun! He danced with Lilith and Lucifer, ate good food, and even talked with some of the Hellborn Aristocrats but found them a bit judgemental.

It was a quarter to midnight when it happened. Adam was drinking some champagne and relaxing in a chair when he heard voices behind him.

"He doesn't look very pretty next to them. Far too fat next to the King and Queen of Hell."

"And so plain! Even makeup can't fix a fatass. A pig in a dress is still a pig."

"Do you think they even have sex with him?"

"Do you think he breaks the bed?"

Chuckles and whispers filled Adam's ears and he felt himself blush in shame. He knew it. He didn't deserve to stand next to demons so pretty and powerful.

"Adam? What's wrong?" Lucifer asked as he sat down next to him. "Nothing. Want to dance?" Adam tried to change the subject. He should have known Lucifer knew him too well to be swayed.

"Adam. You can tell me." Adam didn't say anything but Lucifer must have caught the whispering. His eyes turned red and he looked five seconds away from tearing them apart.

"Lucifer. Let it go. I don't want you killing them." Adam said firmly. Lucifer looked ready to argue but reluctantly agreed. "Fine. I won't kill them. But I want you to come with me." Adam was led away to a spare bedroom, but not before a quick mind message to Lilith was made.

'Some scum are insulting Adam. Take out the trash.'

Lilith smirked as an image of the demons responsible for making her lamb cry was revealed. She gently excused herself from the demon she was talking to before making her way over to the demons laughing in a corner. Time to make a public example.

Everyone turned when they heard screams fill the ballroom. They turned to see Lilith holding three decapitated heads in one gloved hand. She was smiling and looked at everyone as if she hadn't just brutally killed three powerful members of the Goetia Household.

"Now, these three died because they insulted my Consort. That simply won't do." She burnt the corpses and the heads in purple fire. "Anyone who insults my Consort will suffer the same fate. Are we clear?"

Everyone was quick to give them their reply while she laughed. "Wonderful! Have you tried the cake? Simply divine!"

"Ah~!" Adam moaned as he felt fingers dig into his hair and pull. He was always sensitive to touch like this.

"My beautiful lamb, I love you and your body." Lucifer purred and Adam moaned when a kiss was placed on his cheek. "Say you're the cutest lamb, my love. Say it."

"I'm the cutest lamb!" Adam cried when his neck was bitten. "Good boy~."

Lilith had told him that she had killed the demons who hurt Adam and even showed an image of their burnt ashes before it was cleaned up along with their blood.

No one could hurt Adam. No one.

"Ready to get out of this dress, my little lamb?"

"Ah~!"

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for loving my husband's brother? I, (50+ F) fell in love with two brothers, and they both were in love with me. I ended up choosing one of them based on a wonderful love letter, and we had a son together. But then my husband turned evil and I had to leave our son at a boarding school for bad boys while I tried to find a way to stop a prophecy of them fighting. It was hard, and then I met up with his brother again and we just clicked. We had a dynamic and personalities that worked together. We lowkey flirted, and fought together, and held hands and took a leap of faith during what seemed to be the end of the world and I found myself trusting him completely. It was exhilarating. Eventually the evil possessing my husband was banished, I almost thought my son would have to kill him but he managed to remove the evil with his powers instead. So my husband was back for a bit and some time later when world peace was threatened again, I learned the letter that made me choose him was actually stolen from his brother. It was shocking, and it wasn't hard to turn away back to his brother. I forgave him, but I also felt like I had truly chosen the wrong man. I loved his brother more, he was actually good and kind and handsome, and we got together as soon as my husband sacrificed himself and renovated his monastery into a tea shop. I don't know how my son will feel about this so AITA?

[aneurinallday]

Green Eyes

Chapter 20: Lost

“Come away from the window,” Thomas said one morning while opening his mail. “You’ll get a chill.”

Alec ignored him, remaining motionless in his chair, staring out through the curtains.

It was April. Three months since Alec and Clara had been banished from Arrow House. Three months since Cobb had torn a child from its father’s arms, and taken her whereabouts with him to the grave. Despite Thomas’s best efforts, weeks of fruitless searching had turned up nothing.

He feared for Alec’s health. Every day that Alec spent without his daughter was a quiet little death - his body endured but his spirit was wasting away. He had no appetite, and no will to look after himself - he had to be made to eat and bathe. When he wasn’t passed out from exhaustion, he would sit in the chair and stare lifelessly out of the window, retreating into some secret world that only he could see. That was where he now sat, unresponsive to Thomas’s commands.

“I’ve brought you something,” Thomas said, “Here.”

He handed Alec a flat object, about the width of a book, still wrapped in the brown paper it had arrived in. Alec looked at it, then up at him. Confused but too tired to ask questions, he carefully removed the packing paper.

It wasn’t a book, but a picture frame of gilded wood, and in it was the Shelby family portrait taken on Christmas Day. The whole clan was assembled on the grand staircase of Arrow House, a gloomy-faced Thomas brooding in the centre, and Alec smiling at his side. Visible in Alec’s arms was Clara.

“I had Frances post it from Warwick,” Thomas said. “Took a while to dig it out.”

Alec didn’t reply. He held the grey picture in both hands and stared silently at it. He and Clara were barely the size of a penny, but it was the only glimpse of her he’d had in three months. Far from the comfort Thomas had hoped it would bring, Alec began to cry quietly.

“I know it won’t replace the one Cobb burned,” Thomas continued, “But I want you to keep it. At least until we can take a new one. Once Clara’s back, we’ll buy her a nice dress and hire a photographer. I know a studio where they have beautiful painted backdrops…”

“Did you find anything today?” Alec asked.

“Not yet. But we will.”

Seeing the despair in Alec’s face, Thomas added:

“We’ve already crossed off a dozen leads. That means we’re getting closer. It’s only a matter of time, eh?”

He rubbed Alec’s shoulder. Alec rose from the chair and limped stiffly across the room. He placed the picture on the nightstand where he could always see it, lay down on the bed, and cried.

The next day, Thomas continued his search, and the day after, and the day after - dutifully chasing false leads around the West Midlands, each disappointment feeling worse than the last.

Whenever a potential clue arose, he was faced with the impossible decision of whether or not to tell Alec. Clara’s father deserved to be kept in the loop about her, but the constant cycle of raising and crushing his hopes was too much for him to bear. It was almost kinder to tell him nothing rather than to torment him with false hope. So to spare him the pain, Thomas took the blows upon himself instead.

Yet even as he searched, he tried not to think of the parents who may have already adopted Clara and begun to love her. He would have to take her away from them, like she’d been taken away from Alec. To them, he would become Cobb.

On a bleak afternoon, Alec lay curled up on the narrow bed, his eyes reddened and face swollen from crying. Thomas sat in the chair beside him, peeling an orange in silence. Alec watched dully as the pieces of peel fell one by one.

“Mister Shelby?” he mumbled.

“Yes?”

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Yes. My Gypsy mother and my Aunt Pol made sure of it.”

“I do too. At least, I think I do.”

Alec shifted position on the pillows so that he was gazing up at Thomas. The green of his eyes was darker than Thomas remembered - the lively sparkle had left them.

“What do you think happens to us when we die?” he asked.

Thomas thought for a moment.

“Depends, I suppose,” he said, “If you’re happy to move on, then you move on. If not, then…you stay as long as you need to.”

“I think so too.” In a weak voice, Alec continued: “Once, when I was little, I read a story about a man who built a flying ship and went into Space. One of those little stories you buy for a penny, you know?”

“Mhm.”

“He went to the moon, and the stars, and all the places we haven’t been to yet. I asked my mum if anyone would ever build a ship like that. She said maybe. I asked what it was like in Space. How big were the planets. What was on the other side of the stars - if it was Heaven or just more darkness. All these questions…Too many questions. I got on her nerves.”

Alec blinked heavily, struggling to keep his eyelids open.

“She said that only dead people know the answers to everything. I asked how. She said that when we die, we turn into spirits and can see everything, and all the questions we ever had in our lives get answered. What if she was right?”

His voice trembled.

“What if that’s what I have to do, Mister Shelby? What if I have to die to know where Clara is? What if that’s the only way?”

“Stop. You’re exhausted. You need sleep.”

“But what if she’s already dead, Mister Shelby? What if she’s waiting for me? I need to go to her.”

“Alec…”

“Don’t scold me. You’ve had the same thought. Why do we assume he dumped her at an orphanage instead of in a river? Why are we putting that much faith in him?”

“Alec. I don’t know where your daughter is, but I know she’s alive,” Thomas said firmly, “And I know she’d want her father to be safe.”

He finished peeling the orange, plucked out a segment, and held it to Alec’s mouth.

“Here. Try to eat.”

“I can’t.”

“Try,” Thomas gently insisted.

“How can I eat when she might be hungry?” Alec protested, “What if they’re not feeding her right? They don’t know what food she likes - they don’t know her at all.”

“Right now, that’s out of our hands. Right now, we need to take care of you. You need to get your strength back, otherwise you’ll be too weak to play with Clara when she’s here. You don’t want that, do you?”

“...No.”

“We need to take care of you before you can take care of your little one. Now, here. Eat.”

Slowly, Alec took the piece of orange and placed it in his mouth. He bit down, closing his eyes at the little burst of tangy juice. With some coaxing, he accepted another.

“If I go bathe, can you eat the rest by yourself?”

“...Yes.”

“Swear it?”

“...I swear.”

While Alec ate, Thomas briskly stripped and bathed. Soaking in the hot water, he tried to relax his muscles and empty his mind, but couldn’t slow his racing thoughts. All the unanswerable questions that he’d told Alec not to torture himself with, were the same questions he asked himself every minute of every day.

Deep down, he recognised what Alec was trying to do. Alec knew that he was never going to see his daughter again, and in a desperate attempt to protect himself from that knowledge, he’d begun to entertain the idea that she was dead. Believing in her death was better than the alternative, which was spending the rest of his life wondering what had happened to her. Death, at least, would bring him a sense of closure.

Rising from the bath into the cool air, the chill on his bare skin sharpened his senses, helping him to focus. He emerged from the bathroom to find Alec resting, his eyes shut and brow drawn. Thomas stood naked at the window and stared out at the cobbles and bricks and familiar faces of Watery Lane. As he watched the comings-and-goings of his city, he tried to envision a future in which Alec lived, and saw nothing.

“Mister Shelby,” Alec called him faintly from the bed.

Thomas went to him and took his hand.

“How could I let her go?” Alec whispered, “How could I let him take her?”

“You had no choice. There was nothing you could’ve done.”

“I could’ve fought harder. I could’ve begged harder. I could’ve - ”

“He was already angry. If you’d made him angrier, he might’ve killed you both,” Thomas said, “You did what you had to do to survive, because you knew surviving was the only way to help her. You had to stay alive for your daughter, so you could find her and bring her home.”

“No.” Alec shook his head, anguish spasming across his face. “I let go. I should’ve held onto her even if he killed me, but I let go instead. I was weak. I’m such a fucking coward.”

“You defied me and Cobb by coming into my territory. That wasn’t cowardice. That was courage.”

Alec squeezed his hand a little harder.

“Sometimes I think I deserve this. I’m such a bad person, I deserve to suffer. How can life be good to someone like me?”

“You’re not a bad person. You never have been.”

“I can’t…I can’t…” The tears began to rise to the surface again. “I just want her back. That’s all I want. I just want to hold her again.”

“She’ll come back,” Thomas said, and wondered how many more times he could say those words before they lost all meaning. “I’ll bring her back to you.”

“What if she thinks I’ve abandoned her, Mister Shelby? What if she thinks I don’t love her any more?”

“She would never think that. Not even for a second.”

As he sat there and held Alec’s hand, listening to him cry, Thomas could feel the weight of his responsibility crushing down on him. It wasn’t just one life, but two lives that depended on him. Alec would die without Clara. Whether from self-neglect or by his own hand, he would die.

Thomas had to find her. No matter what, he had to find her.