#turns into a guardian angel and dies protecting me

[yujateaandpi]

hold on I’m going to be emo about Digimon for a moment. The whole essence of the franchise is “my good weird talking dog loves me soooo much and all they want is to live peacefully by my side but when my life is threatened (which is often) they transform into an immensely powerful being just so they can give their life up for mine. And sometimes they do and sometimes they are reborn but other times they do not come back and there is no way to repay or fill their loss. And sometimes I betray them but they will forgive me forever no matter how I mistreat them. And sometimes they forget who I am but they will never stop following me because that love doesn’t go away. All they want is to stay small and get head scritches and snacks but the world gets threatened literally every day so they’re always fighting for me. We live in two different worlds and they can’t always be next to me but they’ll wait. They’ll wait years and even when I’m older and have changed they’ll know who I am. They don’t understand why I’ve changed but in their eyes, I’m still the same child.”

[hottpinkpenguin]

Hey 😊 if your still taking requests for the peakys. Could I please ask for Alfie Solomons with A "ask me to stay" and D "dark secret" female reader. Thanks 💗💗

A/n: that's a wrap on Peaky Blinders requests from June!!! thx to all the lovelies who participated <3

The Wall Between Them - Alfie Solomons X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2362 Content warnings: Domestic violence, reader murders the abuser, abuse, violence, blood/gore, protective Alfie, can't-be-vulnerable Alfie, trying-his-best Alfie, hints of soft!Alfie?

Her hands shook so violently it was a wonder she didn’t drop the pistol. If anyone had been watching the scene before them, they would have credited a guardian angel for guiding the bullet straight to his chest despite the treacherous wobble of the gun. Her eyes were closed when she pulled the trigger, tears streaming down her cheeks and mixing with the blood from her mouth. 

He fell like a sack of bricks. One minute he was lunging towards her, eyes trained on the pistol. A cold fear seized his heart as he saw the terror in her gaze melt away to black rage. All those whiskey beatings, harsh words and hateful years had backfired on him. Then, in the next instant, he died to the ear-splitting sound of a gunshot. 

The silence that followed was so loud she swore it would crush her. The walls around her seemed to be holding their breath. Was he really dead? Did she really pull the trigger? 

She didn’t let herself exhale until she saw a pool of blood - darker than she’d imagined it would be - staining the floorboards underneath him. She dropped the pistol; it landed with a heavy thud at her feet moments before her knees folded on themselves as if made of twigs. She pitched sideways, letting the hallway wall brace her fall as she deflated under the weight of realization. She knew in that moment that it didn’t matter how many times he’d hit her. The ghastly bruises and scars he’d left etched in her skin, the nights her mind had divorced itself from her battered body and wandered the halls like a ghost, the mangled monster he’d grown into… none of it mattered. All that others would see was a dead husband and a living wife with motive, means, and a guilty conscience. Even dead, that horrid man was imprisoning her.

She knew there was only one person who could get her out of this. And so, she wiped the blood from her rapidly swelling lip, picked up the pistol and slipped it into the deep pocket of her apron, and tied up the escaped strands of hair. It had been almost seven years since she’d seen Alfie Solomons, but she still knew exactly where to find him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Boss, there’s a lady here to see you.” 

Alfie barely heard Jack’s murmured comment above the jeer of the crowd. The Irishman was swaying unsteadily on his feet in the pen after taking a nasty round of hits to his right ear. Alfie could see his ear filling with blood. A busted eardrum, likely. Circling opposite him, the burly Hungarian Alfie knew as The Red Devil was snarling proudly as he surveyed his quarry. 

“Fuckin’ finish him!” Alfie called out, lifting a wad of bills in the air like a signal fire. The fight was fixed of course, and Alfie had fixed it. The Red Devil was turning into quite a lucrative investment, but his penchant for theatrics was tiring to Alfie. He preferred a quick win, efficient and clean. 

“Boss?” Jack edged slightly closer, waiting for Alfie’s orders.

“Hm?”

“A lady, boss. There’s a lady here to see you. Asked for you by name.”

“Didn’t book a whore tonight,” Alfie replied simply, waving Jack off as The Red Devil moved in on the Irishman, holding the dazed man’s head as he drove his knee up into the exposed forehead until the bell rang to signal the end of the fight. The crowd erupted into a mix of appreciative cheers, boos, and cries to settle up or place new bets as another pair of fighters moved to the edge of the pen. 

“Don’t think she’s a whore, boss. Looks like a respectable lady. Bit beat up though.” 

Alfie fixed Jack with an incredulous stare. He wasn’t accustomed to his men pressing him on trivial issues like this. Especially not on a fight night. Jack flinched imperceptibly; he was well-acquainted with Alfie’s anger and bore a nasty half-moon scar the framed his left eye from being pistol-whipped after pressing Alfie’s limits. Alfie almost moved to strike him, until something about Jack’s words and the odd look in his eyes plucked at something. 

“She give a name?”

Jack shook his head, eyes glued to the ground. “No. All she said was you were ol’ friends. Childhood friends, I think she said.”

It couldn’t be. Alfie shook his head as if trying to shake out the thought. But, then again, there was only one person he’d ever met who’d claim him as a friend. 

“Beat up, you say?”

Jack nodded. “Lip’s split and she got a shiner.”

A memory flickered across Alfie’s mind. He hadn’t seen her in years, but the last time he had, she’d had a ring of purple and green bruises around her neck. She’d tried to hide it under a high collar dress, but Alfie had her pressed up against the wall of his office, their lips devouring each other, and he hadn’t missed the way she winced when he let his hand slide down the side of her neck on its way to undo the line of buttons at the front of her dress. He knew who’d done it and didn’t need her to say a damn thing. If she hadn’t begged him on her knees - her goddamn knees - to spare that pathetic man’s life, Alfie Solomons would have gutted him nice and slow. 

He hadn’t seen her since. She’d stopped writing, stopped answering her own front door, stopped going to the butcher shop below where Alfie kept a small apartment. He’d had her on every surface of that apartment, rabid with hunger for anything she’d give him. Then she’d just vanished. Told him she was due to be married, couldn’t carry on with him anymore. Alfie knew there’d been a silent request buried in her words. He’d heard her ask it with her eyes. Ask me to marry you, and I’ll leave him. Alfie cursed himself every day for letting that moment slip by like water on rocks. He wasn’t any closer to figuring out how to love someone now then he was back then, but in his quiet moments he wondered if maybe he could have figured it out with her, if only he’d been willing to take that chance.

“Boss? Boss, what do you want me to tell ‘er?” 

The sound of the bell announcing the start of another match jarred Alfie loose from his reminiscences. 

“Nothin’. I’ll talk to ‘er.”

Jack eyed him with surprise, but quickly smoothed the spark of interest out of his features rather than risk another scar from his mercurial boss. He’d never known Alfie Solomons to pause his dealings for a woman. Something about her must have been special. Jack followed his boss out of the smoky, cacophonous warehouse and towards the back of the building where Alfie kept his offices. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Alfie felt his fingers dig into the wood of his desk as she stepped out of the shadowy corner of his office and into the soft halo glow of his desk lamp. Her lip was split, blood dried on her chin, and one of her luminous eyes was swollen shut. Murder ripped through Alfie’s blood at the sight of her. 

“Before you say anything, Alfie, he’s dead.”

Her voice sounded different, thin and strained, like someone had scooped out her soul leaving nothing but an echo behind.

“He sure fuckin’ is.” Alfie was shaking he was so bloodthirsty. He couldn’t look at her and risk losing himself. How could it still be so fresh, he wondered, after seven long years?

“No, that’s not what I meant… Alfie, I-, I killed him. I shot him.”

A different man might have been horrified, or maybe even a little impressed. Alfie was none of that. Instead, he felt himself pitch forward over the lip of a hole of despair. 

His voice cracked when he ordered Jack and the rest of the boys out of the office. Once the door closed behind them, she sank down into one of the leather-backed chairs across the desk from him. Desperate to be close to her lest she splinter to pieces, Alfie rounded the desk to perch against its edge, stretching his long legs away from her in an attempt to give her space. She hardly looked up at him. 

“What did he fuckin’ do to you?” Barely more than a whisper. Alfie was glad the light was too dim for her to see that he was treacherously close to tears.

She looked up at him, shocked. Her one good eye gleamed at him. 

“Alfie, did you hear me? I killed him.”

He nodded, swallowing thickly. Alfie was full of tender urges and gentle feelings, but his mouth couldn’t seem to give them words or noise. All he knew was harshness and violence. It was the same wall that had kept him from reaching out for her hand and telling her all the things he felt the last night he’d seen her. Here he was, so close he could smell her lavender soap but his affection locked away so tightly and deeply that he couldn’t force himself to touch it even if he tried.

“Nothin’ he didn’t deserve,” he grunted brusquely after a few moments. He dropped his gaze, unable to tolerate the sight of her face bruised and misshapen. He noticed her hands were trembling in her lap. “What do you need, darlin’?”

She stifled a small sob at the sound of the pet name he’d reserved for her. 

“He’s still-... the body, I- I don’t know… I guess-”

“It’s done. Write down your address.” Alfie handed her a pen and paper, watched as she struggled to mark the street name and number legibly. Her knuckles were bruised, he noted with a twisted pang of pride and pain. She’d been fighting back, he realized. All alone these last seven years. And he’d let her. He’d stopped fighting to get to her. Let her close herself off to him. Let himself close off to her. And now, it wasn’t until she’d been pushed to the brink - maybe past it - that she’d come to him, and only because she knew that when violence and darkness was needed, Alfie could do it. But he couldn’t do the other things, the harder things. Like love her, protect her, tirelessly fight for her. 

She tore off the page and handed it to Alfie. He took it without looking at the writing, strode over the door and excused himself from the office. He thrust the paper into Jack’s hands. 

“Take care of it, Jackie. No loose ends, you hear me? I’ll fuckin’ rip you limb from limb if it ain’t done right.” 

He didn’t give Jack or the others time to argue or ask questions before he slammed the door as a dismissal and strode back to her. He reached for her, needing to feel her warmth under his fingertips just to prove she was here. She flinched instinctively, sending Alfie deeper into self-loathing.

“Do they know-”

“It’s done, darlin’. It’s taken care of.” 

Alfie poured himself a glass of whiskey, drunk it down in one gulp, and poured another. 

“Alfie…” 

Her voice was so soft and yearning it broke Alfie in two. He turned to face her. Gods she looked perfect. 

“It ain’t fuckin’ happenin’ again.” The most solemn promise he’d ever made. 

She recoiled from him as if slapped. It took him a half moment to process why. 

“I ain’t lettin’ anyone hurt you. Ever again, you hear me? I’ll fuckin’ burn the world and every hateful man with it, it don’t matter.” It was all Alfie could find the words to say. 

Finally understanding his meaning, he watched her relax in the chair. She eyed him without saying a thing, a strange expression on her face. 

“I don’t want that, Alfie,” she replied softly. “I don’t want any more death. I don’t want to see someone hurt ever again. I just… I just want…” 

Her words trailed off into the quiet. Neither of them knew where the end of that sentence would lead. The space between them stretched and morphed until it felt like an ocean separating them. Strange, that two people who both wanted so desperately to be with each other could feel so far away.

“Don’t set any fires on my account, Alfie.” She rose from her chair and walked towards him, taking the glass out of Alfie’s hand and downing the whiskey with a wince. “Just ask me to stay.” 

Alfie felt his heart run headlong into that same old wall that always kept them apart. Here she was, the only woman who’d ever mattered, literally giving him the words she wanted to hear. And all that Alfie’s tongue wanted to say was more promises of vengeance, of violence in her name, of destruction. 

She watched him struggle, her gaze even but tired. 

“Ask me to stay, Alfie. That’s all I need.”

The openness those words threatened to expose in Alfie Solomons felt like a lit bomb nestled in the cage of his ribs. He choked on the air in his lungs. Come on, you fucker, he thought viciously as he struggled to press back on the urge to run. 

She watched and waited. Each moment, her shoulders sagged a bit more.

“Stay.”

It wasn’t exactly what she wanted, and Alfie spat the word out as if it had poison between its letters. But was it close enough? 

Her heart thought so. She felt a softness take root there, a shred of hope. 

Yes, it was enough. 

She gave Alfie Solomons a soft smile. The way he crumbled at the sight told her enough about his feelings for her. Even if he couldn’t put them into words, she could see the love that she was so desperate to excavate from wherever he stored away the fragile parts of himself.

“That’s enough,” she told him sweetly, lifting a hand to cradle the side of his face. For the first time in seven years, she let herself relax into a man’s touch as Alfie’s fingers found hers…

[starsofang]

AN ANGEL WEEPS

guardian angel!simon x reader word count: 5k tw: NSFW, MDNI, death, bits of gore, religious themes, violence, heavy angst summary: simon would destroy the heavens and earth in order to be with you. heavily requested oneshot from this drabble!

Simon wasn’t partial to humans. You’d think with him being a guardian angel to many over the centuries, he would grow to like them. Really, it wasn’t that he disliked them, but more so couldn’t empathize with them like other angels could. Some were weak, some were selfish, some were burdening. All of them, though, were on borrowed time, and that was exactly where he came in.

There wasn’t ever a human life that Simon did not keep protected. All of his subordinates, as he called them, lived long enough to see their hair turn gray and their skin mold into wrinkles and age lines. Not once had a human died young under his watch, and he planned to keep it that way.

It seemed the gods held his professionalism to their advantage. Now that his previous subject had passed of old age, he was tasked with a new one. A more challenging one.

You, a high risk. Normally, people of your kind that had a doomed fate from birth were paired with angels who specialized in that. While Simon was practically one and the same with the others, he typically requested humans that wouldn’t be a pain in his ass.

You were different, though. Something about you compelled Simon to take on the task of being your guardian angel, and he was curious to find out what it was. You didn’t seem like you’d give him trouble at all. You were simply unfortunate in the hand of life, and he was determined to turn it in your favor.

On his first day of being your protector, he watched. Observed. He took the time to jot mental notes down of your routine. You weren’t a busy gal, that much he realized, but you were simple. He liked simple. It meant he wouldn’t have to chase you around like a loose pig escaping its pen.

The more he got to study you like a lab rat, the more he wondered what made you a high risk. You didn’t drink, nor did you do drugs. You didn’t spend the wee hours of the night partying. Hell, you didn’t even have a boyfriend to occupy your time. Even now, as he watched, you entered a bookstore, prancing around from shelf to shelf to read each book cover with keen interest, tucking your desired favorites under an arm.

Just from the first day alone, Simon came to think of you as soft and kind. You were the girl who helped the elderly cross the street, or the type that fed the stray cats in the alley, even if you used your last dollar to make it happen. You were a being with a heart of gold, and it was rare for Simon to see somebody so pure.

You were the type of person many took advantage of. He’d seen it plenty of times before – men and women of all kinds, using your big heart to get what they want, just to leave it shattered in pieces on the ground with no way of repairing it. Simon wouldn’t allow that to happen. He’d seen what he needed to see, and that was enough for him to become your permanent guard dog for the rest of your days, which he swore to himself would be bountiful.

There was one problem, though.

You could see him. He didn’t know how, he didn’t know why, but when his little journey of following you around the city became abundantly clear, you confronted him about it, no bark, no bite. 

“Why are you following me?” you asked. Simon was fully expecting a tone of anger, a weak attempt at trying to be intimidating towards a brooding angel like him, but none of that came. In fact, despite your clear discomfort, you remained soft-spoken. Your voice was sweet as honey, smooth in the way it rolled off your tongue.

“Are you talkin’ to me?” Simon gruffed, eyes narrowing at you. You blinked at him dumbly, glancing around the bookstore before focusing back on him.

“Of course,” you confirmed in confusion.

He wasn’t sure what to do. This had never happened before, and it was wrong. Very, very wrong. Humans still partaking in the act of life weren’t able to see angels, let alone speak to them. It was against the very act of being angels. Silent protectors. Invisible.

Something was terribly off. Perhaps you were a fluke. Or perhaps you were far closer to death than he thought.

Simon was completely stumped. His very existence was the greatest kept secret in all of Earth’s lifespan. Not a single breathing soul knew of the actuality of angels. Sure, many believed in them – it wasn’t a secret in teachings, but that’s all it was. A belief. A strike of faith.

“Sir?” you called out. It successfully snapped him out of his spell-like hypnosis, realizing he was staring at you with a guise of puzzlement. He cleared his throat, standing a bit taller, eyes darting around the room.

“This isn’t how this is supposed to go,” he muttered to himself. You made a noise of perplexity.

“Pardon?” you questioned. Simon silently cursed (lord forgive him).

“This,” he repeated, gesturing between the two of you with a hand. “You’re not supposed to see me. Something must be truly wrong.”

Your expression morphed into lines of confusion and concern, eyes widening into fearful saucers. You looked scarcely similar to a lost puppy, one who had just been told bad dog. Simon felt a twinge of sympathy in your favor. How confusing it must be to have been followed around by a man who was sorrowfully unaware that you knew of his presence.

“Are you a ghost?” you asked, causing a crack of a smile to threaten on Simon’s lips.

“Somethin’ like that,” he mused. “Perhaps this might be easier if we talk somewhere privately.”

At first, you looked hesitant, and he didn’t blame you. He knew how weary humans were of strangers, after all, but Simon was no stranger – at least, he wouldn’t be in his eyes. He would know you the longer he silently protected you as your guardian, while you remained blissfully oblivious to his existence. It seemed that part wasn’t in the cards this time around.

Somehow, you agreed, following him out of the bookstore and on to the bustling streets, walking side by side with him. It was silent at first, Simon keeping his eyes trained forward, alert to any dangers nearby. It was in his blood to sniff out misfortunes from a mile away, and considering your state of high risk, you attracted them like flies.

“Suppose I’ll give it to you straight,” he began, garnering your attention almost immediately. Your eyes were pooled with dread, most likely expecting horrible news. Or wondering why you had followed a strange man with so much blinded trust. “Do you believe in angels?”

“Angels?” you gawked, the words unexpected. It was the last thing you imagined he’d say, and it took you for a complete whirlwind. “Why do you ask?”

“Do you?” he repeated. He turned his head to look at you, noting the gears turning in that brain of yours. It was subtle, but you were an easy read.

“Yes, I guess I do. There’s no proof of them not existing, so I can’t exactly say they’re not real, right?” you claimed, and the warmth in your tone made Simon smile.

He quite liked your character so far. Easygoing with incredible wit and enthrall. It was a breath of fresh air from some of the other people he’d been subjected to. There wasn’t a hint of malice in your aura, no storm clouds that hovered over you in the form of looming threat, no black smoke billowing around you in a polluted smother.

In fact, it was nothing short of bright. Hues of yellow emanating beaming rays. A burst of sunlight, down to the bone.

“Smart girl,” Simon hummed softly, returning his gaze forward as the two of you walked. “This is your first time talkin’ to one, I presume.”

For a moment, you were silent. He could feel your eyes studying the side of his face, desperately attempting to pry open his mind and see inside for yourself. He allowed you the complexity of wishful thinking.

“What do you mean by that?” you dared to ask, curiosity getting the better of yourself. You didn’t feel like the smart girl he claimed you to be at all. Matter of fact, you were perhaps a very stupid girl for following an unfamiliar man and listening to him speak of a higher power. You were even stupider for blossoming an interest.

It was a difficult conversation to have, one Simon wasn’t prepared for at all. He had to explain it in blunt terms, introducing himself as your guardian angel while you stared at him like a dead fish.

Yet somehow, despite receiving such complex information, you accepted it, giving him a smile and your name that he already had mapped in the back of his memory. You didn’t shy away from him. He didn’t understand. He knew humans were complicated, but he had never met one so trusting of his word.

Simon fully expected a breakdown, or a freak out. Perhaps even a fuck off with you going about your day. Earthlings didn’t know that angels existed, so to meet your very own, one so tall and brooding, intimidating and unapproachable with large, white wings that tucked into the comfort of his back, hidden, it was a damning thing. But you accepted, so easily, too.

It was strange. You were strange. Not in a cruel way like he had previously thought of humans, but in a warm way that left him confused. Perplexed. Such a sweet thing like you, so free of judgment and malice, only to end up with a terrible fate such as yours.. Now that was cruel.

Simon took a liking to you after your official meeting. He tried to deny it, reminding himself of his purpose, but it was hard not to form a friendship with you when you wouldn’t allow him otherwise. He stuck to you like glue, never letting you stray out of sight, waiting in the dark hours of the night for you to wake, watching silently while you’d read a book every night.

Where you went, he went. When you slept, he watched over you longingly. When you wept, he ached.

You became of utmost importance to him. You were his priority before, but now, it was set in stone that Simon would strive to give you the longest life, filled with nothing short of love and worship. When he formed this goal in mind, a second problem arose – saddened over the fact that it wouldn’t be him sharing it with you.

“Simon?” you asked him one night. Book in your lap, long forgotten as you stared up at him with an innocent curiosity. You were a nosy one, something he found out rather quickly, but instead of being met with his own annoyance, he grew quite fond of your wonder. “Does everybody have a guardian angel?”

He never got tired of your questions. In fact, he encouraged them. Conversation with you came easy, whether it was in the bright rise of the morning, or the wee hours of midnight. Simon wasn’t much of a talker until you came around, but sharing endless moments when it was just the two of you conversing as people became his favorite routine.

Simon perked up to look at you, eyebrows furrowing at your question. “No. Not everybody,” he answered honestly. You tilted your head at him, curious.

“Then how come I have you?” you questioned.

Simon stared at you, mulling over your inquisition. A pang of guilt tightened his chest. He knew the truth, yet you didn’t. You were blissfully unaware of what was at stake, why the heavens decided to gift you with him as your protector. You didn’t know how weak your own lifeline was, how you risked slipping in the depths of death every ticking second of the day.

He knew what was waiting for you at the end of the line. When you’d reach it, though, was the question. And he wished he had the answer.

“You’re just a special case, dove,” he explained, trying his best to be comforting. The last thing he wanted was for you to worry, to find out the real reason why he was assigned to you. “Nothin’ to stress about. Some people just get them early.”

“Special case?” you repeated to yourself, finger pressing to your chin in thought, face pulling into confusion.

Simon remained silent, eyes shifting away from you to allow you the time to think. He knew you had a hyperactive mind, one that may have been the very thing to cause your future downfall, but he didn’t have the heart to stop it. Perhaps he was a selfish angel, for he loved hearing your voice, loved hearing the cluttered mess of your thoughts.

He was becoming dangerously devoted to you.

Angels and humans were not meant to form bonds. Simon was already being greedy by allowing it to happen rather than cutting it off from the root. He was your protector, your guardian, yet he excused the blossoming growth of your relationship as playing his role. The closer he got to you, the higher of a chance he had in saving you.

“Simon?” you called out once again, garnering his attention. He heard the hesitation in your own tone, as if you didn’t want to speak your mind. “I’m not going to die, am I?”

If Simon had a working heart, it would have shattered right there. If he had a living, human soul, it would’ve lost its glowing light, fading into aching darkness.

“No, dove,” he lied, flashing you an assuring smile. “M’just here to keep you safe, that’s all.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, and Simon felt that nauseating guilt crawl its way back under his skin. It pricked him with unease. He hated lying to you, providing empty promises that your life was under no threat.

He never worried about humans. He did as he was meant to do, and that was the extent of it. Yet with you, he worried that if he didn’t go above and beyond his normal procedures, your blood would be on his hands. He didn’t know if he could live with himself for the upcoming centuries if he failed to keep his promise.

A world where your laughter drifted away with the wind, rather than fill the air of his presence, was a world unworthy. A world without you would be unfair.

As Simon watched you return to your book, your curious mind put on temporary pause, he vowed to keep the Earth spinning with you on it, alive and well, safe and sound – just as he’s meant to do, without the baggage of complex emotions he shouldn’t be feeling in the first place.

The longing for you never became easier. In fact, the progression of the harbored affection only grew tenfold. Iit was increasingly difficult to continue with his duty as your protector without coming to the admission.

Simon, an angel, was falling for a human he was meant to keep safe, keep alive. Two beings, divided by separate worlds, yet he resided in yours as if he belonged there. The more time he spent in your orbit, the more the desire blossomed.

He was a smart angel, one that had developed a keen sense for human emotion over the centuries spent silently observing them. Simon knew that his feelings weren’t unreciprocated, and it was what terrified him greatly. Fear and love, mixing in the absence of his own humanity, taking control of his motherboard and turning on autopilot.

He suppressed these feelings as much as he could. The hierarchs he reported to could have no hint of these befuddling emotions that were causing warmth to run through his bloodstream, as if he were slowly becoming human himself. He could not allow them, or himself, get in the way of his original mission.

That’s what he tried to do, at least.

It wasn’t until a normal night, pent up in your apartment with a warm mug of tea, a book nuzzled in your other hand and a blanket thrown across you to form a picture of pure sweetness, that his resolve began to crack.

You, innocent and curious you, always asking questions about him and never making the conversation selfishly about you, had requested to see his wings. The white, feathered beauties, tucked away in the dip of his shoulder blades, hidden and protected. You were considerate in the way you asked, giving him an opt out if he wasn’t comfortable. No human had ever seen his wings, let alone him, and he found denying you much more difficult than he thought it would be.

So he did as you asked – unfurled his wings, allowing the slow stretch to showcase them. The feathers ruffled with his movement, but they glowed radiantly with the picture-perfect white. Once they were untucked and on display, Simon realized how vulnerable all of this was. He was bearing himself to you with no obstacles standing in the way. He was showing the real part of himself, and you were watching in patient admiration, taking in every tuft of feather.

The wrongfulness of his action was smothered over with the look in your eyes. You gazed at him as if he were the most beautiful thing that God had created, setting aside your book and tea in order to step up to him fully. You were silent, taking him in, taking your time. When you carefully reached out a hand with an itch to feel the soft wings, he didn’t stop you. He should’ve, but he couldn’t.

“You’re wonderful,” you breathed, speaking of him so highly that it made the organ in his chest clench with an ache. Your touch was gentle, nimble fingers smoothing over the tuft feathers. The pads of your fingers were soft, and it caused him to relax, releasing a breath he was unaware of holding.

“Please do not say that to me,” he whispered, voice tight. He took a shaky breath in, shutting his eyes so he didn’t have to look into your own. “Please.”

Your eyes flickered across his face, taking in how reluctant he was. He was holding back, this you knew, and while you understood, a part of you wished he would open himself up. For months, you had walked a thin line, but it had quickly shifted into something more dangerous. Feelings, ones that matched his own.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized softly, beginning to take your hand off of his wing. Before you could remove it, his own hand caught yours, warm fingers wrapping around your smaller ones. He dared to open his eyes, nearly collapsing under the sparkling gaze you had so graciously reserved for him.

Slowly, he brought your hand up to his mouth, releasing a trembling breath before placing his lips to your soft skin. You watched silently, but made no move to pull away. “What are you doin’ to me, dove?” he asked, flustered. “This is… this is not right.”

His eyes bore into yours, sinking into your lovely irises, growing lost in them. There was an unfamiliar pounding in his chest, a foreign swarm of fluttering butterflies in his stomach, things only humans felt for one another. Angels were not meant to feel this way for a human, and humans were not supposed to know they existed.

Yet, he couldn’t deny the pure fondness he held towards you. How he sought you out in every given moment, how his body longed for you every morning and every night. His mind felt that this was right, that it was meant to be, while the voice in the back of his head told him this would end in misery.

With the way you were looking at him as if he had captured the sun and stars just for you, he found himself moving without thought. Lips pressing to yours, his hand gripping your own in a vice, as if scared you may crumble to ash if he let go. You reciprocated, and that was your mistake – there was no going back, and Simon wasn’t sure if he’d want to.

Humans performed things in the heat of the moment. It was something Simon had come to learn over his many years of study, yet him kissing you so suddenly had made him feel like one. It was terrifying, yet exhilarating all at once. To feel alive, to feel real.

He performed the ultimate act of sin with you. He was clumsy and awkward, inexperienced in the way he had you melting on his tongue, arching your back off of the sofa he took you on. Everything you offered would have him sent into an early grave if he were a living being. Ironic, considering it was you on that path, something he had forgotten about in between your shared intimacy.

Simon never knew how wonderful it felt to be connected with a mortal in a physical sense. Inside of you, engulfed in your warmth that clenched around him so deliciously, writhing beneath him like a fever was coursing through your veins. You looked lovely, even with a scorching warmth to your skin and a sheen of sweat lining your forehead.

His wings cocooned around you both as he lost himself in you, swallowing your beautiful whines that resembled heaven’s choir. Your hand caressed the soft feathers of his wings while the other held on to his shoulder, nails digging into his skin, grounding yourself.

Everything about this act was pure sin. It was a test of the devil himself, and he had strayed off of the path of forgiveness and had ventured to a land of lustful desire. Yet, he continued on the path, moving on his own free will further and further the more your body took him in. Your pleasure was his newfound call, his new purpose.

As your body succumbed to its own heated climax, he watched in awe at the way your mouth fell open, eyes lidded halfway, clouding over with a lovely husk of satisfaction. You were more beautiful than any heaven he had seen, and if Simon could die, he’d seek you as his afterlife.

He should’ve regretted it. It was in his blood to find purity, to hold value in the sentiment of God. But as he laid there, your body spent and exhausted, soft breaths leaving your lips, he felt no such thing. He wrapped his wings around you, smothering you in a security blanket, using the purest part of him to keep you sound.

Simon should’ve known that the moment he fell in love with you, things would never go the way he wanted. He should’ve reminded himself of why he was your guardian in the first place, yet he had been nothing but selfish. He involved himself in you far too much, ignoring the angel on his right shoulder in order to listen to the devil on his left.

When he had been told you were a high risk, he never would’ve imagined that he would be the reason.

Everything happened far too quickly for Simon to comprehend. He wasn’t paying attention, he wasn’t protecting you. It seemed almost instant that your body had been struck in the middle of the street, the night sky making everything much foggier to the eye. It started out as such a simple night, with Simon following along behind you while you made a stop at a crosswalk to pass the street.

Distracted by the flowers displayed in the window of a pretty flower shop, he was consumed by thoughts of wanting to surprise you with them. Though he was a mere angel and could get you flowers from mother Earth herself, he knew humans had different sentiments, flowers being one of them. While pondering which flower you might prefer, the entire world had stopped in the midst.

Dreadful sounds of tires screeching, a loud explosion of crashing noises that made his ears prick, and you – silent. Not a single peep. It made his blood run cold, because you weren’t silent. You were curious, talkative, always letting it slip what was on your mind.

Simon stared at your unmoving body on the road, battered and bloodied, tainted with impurity. It was the complete opposite of what you had been. It was something you should’ve never been in the first place.

His legs moved before he could tell them to, and he found himself crumbling to the ground, taking hold of your body in his arms. Blood seeped from your head, painting your skin an ugly crimson. It was thick and vile. It didn’t belong. Not on you.

He became frantic. He didn’t have to listen to know your heart was no longer beating, because he just knew. You were the tattered version of yourself. A corpse, no longer able to smile at him, or ask your silly questions, or tell him you loved him. You were dead, just as your prophecy had predicted, and Simon had failed.

Weeping over your body did nothing to change fate. For the first time in all of Simon’s life span, he cried, ugly tears and snot, babbling nonsense from his mouth as he begged for you to wake up. He shook you in desperation, before holding you close to his chest and securing his wings around the two of you, unable to bear the thought that he had lost you.

The heavens were in havoc. One of their beloved angels, falling for a mortal? Completing acts of sin? It was true blasphemy, a desecration to their name. The world as they knew it was falling apart, and it was all because Simon was selfish and unholy.

Tossing him out was done without question. Sent to the burning pits of hell, white feathers falling from his wings only to be replaced with raven, black and nightmarish. He was one of hell’s fallen angels, while you remained at the top, separated and alone. Simon was one of God’s failed creations, and no amount of redemption or prayer would have him fluttering back up to his pearly gates. Home was no more, though he was sure that at some point, heaven was forgotten and you had replaced that title before he lost you.

Being apart from you was torturous. It felt as if he was missing half of his body, half of his soul. Apart of different worlds once again, not meant to be. Unfated. Simon couldn’t allow that to happen.

Even if it took him years to return to his beloved, he would do it. Even if it meant trudging through the depths of hell in order to crawl to the top, he’d complete the journey without pause.

Heaven may be strong, but his love for you was stronger.

War broke out between the heavens and hell. Colliding forces, shedding blood of the pure, and venom of the demented. It was a battlefield that Simon had been the cause for, vision red with rage. He saw nothing but the fueling desire to be reunited with you, and it wouldn’t simmer until that occurred.

Far too much time passed since he had seen you. Years, even, though he wasn’t sure – everything felt like a lifetime without you by his side. He had lost count of how many sins he had committed, how many angels he had slain in order to become one step closer to seeking your soul. The lovely angel Simon had once been was murdered and buried, filled with angry vengeance that poked through the eyes of a devil.

He wondered if you would forgive him, if you would still love him. After all, he was a blackened version of himself, no longer the image of purity. He was a beast unleashed.

All of those worries melted away into a yearning ache when all war had ceased. You had been expecting him, it seems, waiting for him. Your soul was still as radiant as ever, yet he was now a dark void in comparison.

“Simon,” you greeted, and oh, how he missed your sweet melody. Your voice alone, saying his name, had put out the raging fire in his bones.

“Dove,” he responded back, breathless. His heart was in his throat as he waited for your reaction, to see how you felt about him. His wings no longer white, his soul no longer sacred.

Time had taken a pause as the two of you stared at one another from your place in heaven. He was back in the place he originated from, yet it felt cold and desolate. It was a grueling task to make it this far, and he prayed it wasn’t in vain.

“Your wings,” you commented, eyes fluttering down to take in the raven feathers. He sucked in a breath, prepared to hear your disappointment, but it never came. “They’re wonderful.”

It was the exact words you had used to describe him as an angel. Your love for him hadn’t changed, even though he did.

Simon smiled at you, full of light and warmth. You smiled back, and he was a done-for man. That smile was the reason for the heavens falling apart, yet it was still the most beautiful thing he’d come across. He never thought he’d see it again.

“I’ve come all this way for you, dove,” he murmured softly, taking a step forward. He reached out for your hand, holding it so tenderly in his. He lifted it, placing a sweet kiss to your knuckles. “Please, come back with me. Come home.”

To hell. To madness.

None of that mattered. Simon wouldn’t make the same mistake that he did when you were alive. This time, you would not be met with a foul end, and he would not live a life of regret.

You glanced down at your intertwined hands before looking back up at him, meeting his eyes. Your own were just as fond as before, lit up with the undying love that had never left.

“Take me home, Simon,” you assured, and the church bells sang.

i had many people asking for a full fic of guardian angel simon, so i am here to deliver. this concept's been on my mind for a while, and i finally pushed thru and wrote it fully, so i pray that it lives up to the standards everybody wanted <3

[remember-the-fanfics]

Hai, so um I really like the Gen-Z overlord Reader, bc well they are basically me, if you are able/want to can you make some possible angst headcanons? Like how they miss home or their friends

Just Before the pilot episode

I'm trying so hard to have a timeline, everything is connected! I just have it in no order.

This is shorter than usual.

• You would have so many things to be sad about

• Like how you could never live your life before you died

• Missing all your friends because they'll (hopefully) get to grow old

• Your family grieving over your life being taken to soon.

• Older sibling never got to see you truly become an adult without your parents

• Younger sibling missing you, who just got them in a way where they could annoy you but you would still protect them afterwards.

• Parents/Guardian losing their child way to soon.

• You usually avoid those thoughts, having to do be someone strong daily for the people you protect.

• You already had time to mourn the future you never got and everyone you miss when you weren't an Overlord.

• So pushing your grief all the way down inside to never see the light of day.

"Haha, nope."

• Until you seeing or smell something like home and it hits you, hard.

• Then you're back being a child, who just wants their parents to comfort them from a nightmare.

• You're with Angel Dust, Vaggie, and Charlie. Doing an exercise that Charlie ropped you into.

• When something of the moment of true trust reminds you of home.

• The last place it was completely given so freely.

• Angel Dust nugges you saying it was your turn again.

• Before realizing you had tears that started stream down your face.

• He tried to cheer you up with a joke

"Didn't think the exercise was that bad."

• Didn't work for the most part.

• You were laughing, while crying. Creepied him out and got the others attention.

• You just wanted to go home, back to the people you care about.

• But you could never go back, you were dead.

• Why does it feel so unfair that you died before you actually got to live.

• Getting up while everyone was asking you if you were alright

"Ha ha, no."

• Heading to your room because you didn't want to drag everyone else's mood down with you.

• Only to be stop by Angel Dust, who knows how you feel about missing your family but not understanding that your grief about missing your life.

"I didn't get to live my life, Angel! I died less than two months after I turned 18, I still lived with my parents! My family and friends had to bury me, I have to wait while everyone I know get to live."

• Angel Dust did not know you were that young.

• This is the first time most of them saw you be more than just chaotic.

• Heading to your room to be alone finally

• After you got your emotions back inside because you are still needed by many people.

• Avoided Charlie for awhile because she wanted you to talk about your feelings

• Then Vaggie when Charlie got sad about it.

• You stayed away from the hotel for a week, wanting stayat your territory for the extermination any way.

• Texts Charlie and Vaggie, that you would be back afterwards.

• Charlie texting you about an interview she has the day after.

• Vaggie texts you to stay safe until then.

• Missing your family from life and realizing that you made your own type of family-friendship in hell.

• Not having time to process it when you see an explosion from a far and you know who would be there and rushing there to make sure they'll be okay.

-

And that leads you into the whole being there when Carmilla killed an exorcist.

[bellisima-writes]

Some Rebellious GO Fanfic Recs

Hey there fandom fam,

It’s been an absolute wretched couple of days. I had expected many different outcomes to Tuesday, but the decisiveness with which my country elected a convicted criminal to its highest office left me shocked and numb.

And I know we all don’t come here for politics and real life. We come here to escape. But if you’re like me, and you have this itching need to fight, to organize, to lift up the vulnerable and protect those most at risk, then it’s hard to be here and escape right now.

And that sucks.

But this is and will remain a fanwork blog, and so I offer you some solace - here are some GO fanfics that focus on fighting. On breaking a broken system and protecting humanity, no matter the cost. Because, as much as we love Aziraphale and Crowley, that’s what the original work was about. Love and connection and humanity as an act of rebellion, and we sure do need those themes right now.

So if you’re angry and in the mood for some more plot/action based fics, with a flaming sword and maybe a dash of BAMF Aziraphale, I got you.

I am going to start with my own here, because I've not found one as outrightly rebellious as this yet in my own reading.

The Last Angel by me - (E, 162K) A canon-divergent AU where Crowley and Aziraphale are never assigned to Earth, Hell wins Armageddon and Angels are all but extinct. The story follows Crowley, the Grand Inquisitor of Hell, and Aziraphale, the last Angel alive, as he is captured and brought to Hell to face his execution. But, Hell hath no fury like an Aziraphale scorned...

So, was he really captured, or does Aziraphale have a plan to seek revenge on the beings responsible for destroying everyone he ever knew? And how will the way the Grand Inquisitor makes him feel affect his plans?

Tether by @gingiekittycat - (E, 45K) - a post Season 2 story in which Aziraphale is summoned back to Earth by Crowley for reasons he doesn't understand. This one has all of the sexy goodness you come to expect from a gingikittykat work, with a heartwarming take down of Heaven's Second Coming plans.

What are you doing here by @alphacentaurinebula - (E, 68K) sexy and popular season 3 speculation fic that encompasses both the humor of the source material shockingly well while also providing a rebellious and on brand end to the conflict between Heaven and Hell. Because sides don't matter, working together matters, and this story delivers that theme beautifully.

The Beginning of the End (Again) by @addledmongoose - (M, 79K) a post Season 2 story where Crowley and Aziraphale work to convince Jesus to not go forth with the final judgment. This one stands out for its take on Aziraphale as a guardian angel, fierce, protective, and an ending where he shows his true colors and fights for everything he loves. BAMF Aziraphale in the best way.

Echo by @snae-b - (E, 52K) a story of waking up to find an invisible hand controlling your life, and fighting back to break it and create a new world for everyone.

And a current WIP that's not complete, but the last chapter left me with chills and I am SO excited to see how it will end - And I Did by @di-42 - a Season 3 speculation fic that has Aziraphale as Supreme Archangel in Heaven and Crowley as Grand Duke of Hell. The story is rich and complex, and the cast of characters (both favorites from the show and book as well as new additions) are wonderful. There are two chapters left and I can't wait to see how it all turns out!

Please add on to this list with your own works and favorite rebellious fics!

[skyeslittlecorner]

hiyaa!! can i request the king’s reaction to gabriel attempting to kill mc when they aren’t there? he does succeed in slashing their arm a bit, where mc crouches in pain while trying to stop the bleeding.

(your blog is my fav btw i love all of your stuff! <3)

First, let me be a nerd as I explain one thing, because I know that not everyone has been in the fandom from the beginning, and this fact was mentioned in the very first event. Gabriel's scythe kills on touch. It is a gift from god that even kings avoid because just one scratch means death.

I don't know if you were aware of this, dear anon, when you asked for this headcanon (if you wanted a less drastic scenario, please let me know, I'll gladly write a second one!). Get ready for angst.

(And! Thank you for kind words! You have no idea how nice to hear that <;3)

Satan reacted as befitted his sin. Wrath. Rage. Breakdown. A red, thick fog flowed into the streets, only choking the subordinates, but sweeping away the angels. They couldn't stand the mourning that poured out of him, and they died in agony as long as he held your dying body in his arms. This was the only day in the history of Gehenna when the devils lost their will to fight and their king almost followed you into the arms of death, fighting more fiercely than ever before.

You fulfilled your promise. You died to protect Hell. And he failed to protect you. Once you were buried in a beautiful, simple grave, Satan had only one thing on his mind. He promised you that he would be faithful, only yours, for millennia. And he will keep that promise. No lovers, no one-night stands. He couldn't protect you, but he can protect the one you did all this for. Minhyeok and his later children won't even be aware of it, but they have just gained a pure white, red-eyed guardian.

Beelzebub felt you dying rather than saw you. By the time he appeared at your side, it was too late. There was almost no blood flowing, but you both knew that this wound would never heal. He kissed you and whispered soothingly as you died. It was his fault. His damn eternal wandering. If he had stayed, if he had watched you better... You deserved more than being buried among his clones. You should rest with those who, unlike him, did protect you. With your parents. He will show up with your body on Minhyeok's doorstep, hoping that he will get angry and yell at him, but he will only break down in tears over your body. This is not enough for Beelzebub, this is worse than the punishment he expected. He doesn't feel worthy of attending your funeral, but he'll watch from afar anyway.

Your tombstone will always look like new, even for hundreds of years. Intact stone, fresh flowers. There are things that even Beelzebub cannot forget.

Leviathan won't let you die. No, just no. No way. Do not agree. The moment you get hurt, he will catch you in his arms. The face is colder than usual, but the voice is more soothing than ever. "Do not be afraid. You are mine, and I am not letting you go.” He will kiss you one last time and push you into his coffin. Suspended somewhere between worlds, not dead, but not alive either, you will be pushed into eternal sleep, barely remembering who you are.

Leviathan won't stop there, he has to get you back. Only god can save you from death, and if that means this devil has to find him, he will. Anything to get you back to his side. He won't agree to lose another person he loves.

This time Mammon is the spoiled one

MAMMON

The shield you raised could withstand anything - or so you thought, until Gabriel cut through it like a knife through wax. The wound on your forearm was minor. Almost invisible. Still, you stared at it in silence, dazed. You knew what that meant.

A fist sprung in front of your nose a second too late. Shooed the seraph away a second too late. Your life could have been saved. A second too late.

"Master! Are you okay?" Mammon caught up with you and grabbed you in his arms. The grogginess slowly turned into dizziness. You collapsed onto his chest, losing strength.

"He... hurt me." You whispered into his broad chest. His muscles tensed as if ready to attack, but the huge arms lifted you ever so gently. You felt like you were in a huge cradle. The consciousness that slowly drained from your body was glad that it was spending its last moments in these arms.

The king held your limp body for a long time. He couldn't say goodbye to you, he couldn't understand that he had lost you. That you already had left this Hell, and there was nothing he could do about it.

A huge mausoleum was built in the meadow where you died. Gold and silk blinded the inhabitants from afar, outshining the sun itself. Despite the splendor greater than in the palace, everyone considered your tomb to be the poorest place in the world. Mammon visited it every day. He reminded himself that he needed to protect his people better. That he should have protected you better. For the first time in his life he felt real loss.

It was here that Tartaros' greatest treasure was lost.

[jevilowo]

TEAM ASCENDED FORTRESS 2

An AU by me in which the mercs ascend to their ultimate forms

Oh God tumblr wrecked the quality-

More about the AU under the cut!

WOKE SCOUT: she started taking estrogen and instead of fixing her it made her worse. She gets into fights on twitter about neopronouns and has successfully cancelled everyone she doesn't like at least once. However, as cancel culture isn't real, this only lasted about three seconds for each. She managed to pull Ms Pauling also which is pretty cool.

SOLDIERSUNE MIKU: the ghost of Shakespearicles told him to dress as Miku and redo the salem witch trials. Only knowing one witch (Merasmus), he finished this quickly and now roams the country with Zhanna (who is now Zhannagane Miku after Mikus metal counterpart) spreading malice and wonder through the power of AMERICAN SONG COVERS. He uses a wig for the Miku effect, but is working on growing his hair out also.

MITOSIS: Pyro and Engie were shagging one time and they came so hard they did mitosis. Now theres 23 babey Pyros (count em) and Engineer is a single dad. There's a lot of Pyro Mitosis Lore™ in my head, but the basics are that they evolve into either humanoid, beastial, demonic or celestial Pyros eventually.

TAVISH, KING OF THE LOCH NESS: he did it he blew up that bloody sea monster and now he is king of Loch Ness. The self loathing has died down a lot which is great for him but his body is still a scrumpty distillery which is eh. Still, he has funky water powers and his partners Soldiersune and Zhannagane come to visit often.

KEEPER OF TIME AND SPACE GUY: Heavy was mad, he knew he'd been had so he shot at the sun with a gun. Instead of being a show off like that bitch Juno, he had a nice philosophical conversation and chess match with Time and impressed Time so much he was appointed as the guardian of Time and Time's partner, Space. His guns (the six angel thingies pictured) can turn into celestial weapons which helps in the protecting but people don't shoot at the sun so often so its a relaxing enough gig really.

GODDAMMIT ENGIE: after realising how much more efficient Gunslinger was than a lame ass human hand, Engie succumbed to his hubris and eventually replaced all his body parts with robot parts. Including his dick which led to the Mitosis Incident. Anyway. His chest is a dispenser which makes projects pretty convenient and he has a mini-sentry attached to each arm and leg, making him a walking weapon. This did not help with the god complex, but it helps with the single father thing.

THE INFERNAL DOCTOR: Medic kept attaching more souls to his own and selling them to Satan for power. Satan got so sick of this eventually he attempted to beat the shit out of Medic. By now Medic was slightly more powerful than Satan so this ended with Medic absorbing Satan's powers and basically taking his place. Somehow, his relationship with the guy who is now a celestial being was unaffected by this. If they really tried they could probably ascend even further. To godhood, perhaps. In any case, Medic becoming The Devil from The Bible did nothing for the god complex.

???: Sniper just kind of fucked off into the woods one day god knows what happened to him but Scout's convinced she saw him for like three seconds a week ago and "YOU GUYS HE HAD ANTLERS I SWEAR-"

RETIRED AND BECAME A FUNCTIONING MEMBER OF SOCIETY SPY: yeah. He's very happy with Scout's Mother (Maureen), and he's letting his roots grow out (his spy agency made him dye his hair black). He's even making an effort to be a good parent to Scout, bought her the trans flag ipad cover and everything, but she just keeps trying to cancel him. Maureen's sure they'll work it out between themselves eventually, but until then she has to keep finding more secure hiding places for the ipad (the best so far was the time she buried it under a tree a mile away, took Scout at least four hours to find and retrieve it that time)

There's also YURI MS PAULING, in which she pulled a whole polycule of beautiful women, but I'll cover her in another post.

Also TERFS DNI please. Woke Scout is just Scout being Scout (which is to say a bit stupid), and assuming all trans women are like that would be ridiculous. So fuck off.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Switched Sides - End || Lloyd Hansen

Character: Lloyd Hansen x former Hitman!FemaleReader

Summary: Y/N L/N quit her job as a hitman to take care of her nephew after her stepbrother died. It’s been a year since she became a good aunt to her nephews, and she wants to keep it that way. But her quiet life got disturbed when her former boss asked for her help.

Warning: Nothing.

A/N: Reblog and any feedback are much appreciated.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Last Chapter.

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi please 🥹

In the warm sunlight with the birds chirping in the peaceful morning. Inside the bedroom, there are two people on the bed. They were still sleeping since they were exhausted from last night's activity. 

Lloyd woke up first while you were still lying beside him. It’s rare. If this happened a year ago, you wouldn’t still be here. You would leave in a second after you use his body. It never crossed your mind about relationships since you prefer to be alone. 

That’s why he still didn’t believe you could be a parent.

You're the most daredevil person he has ever known. You're not afraid of death.

If there's a reaper in front of you, you probably asked the angel of death, "What took you so long?"

That's why you're the deadliest hitman at the agency. The code name Antarctica fits you. When you were on a mission, your expression never changed. You are cold and deadly. You're not afraid of anything since you have nothing to lose. When you left, everyone felt the differences. Even the head of the agency was regretful for letting you go. 

This is the reason why he approached you. The agency wants you to come back. 

Lloyd thought it would be easy, but when he saw you, Mark, and Kendall together, he realized it would be difficult. 

He sighed heavily, his hand gently stroking your back, and then he kissed your forehead. "Do you like your nephew that much?"

After he said those words, you suddenly open your eyelid and look at him. Lloyd swore he almost got a heart attack. 

“Yes, I do.”

You would go crazy if something ever happened to them. 

Because you realize your nephew is the reflection of your brother. Every little thing that Mark and Kendall do it's the same as your brother. The way they sleep, eat and get angry. 

You didn't realize you missed your brother that much until the last time you saw him lifeless inside the casket. The little brother who always followed you around never complained when you could only give him a boiled pumpkin for lunch and dinner. 

Back then, both of you were poor, and you worked on child labor at the farm. The farm owner always gave you any vegetable before it turned rotten. The only veggies that could fulfill your hunger were pumpkin. And the habits stayed. One time on the mission, you and Lloyd were hiding in the safe house. The location was the city's outskirts, and it was near the farm. Living near the farm brings you back. You didn’t realize you ate a lot of pumpkins until Lloyd pointed that out. 

You and your brother didn't have a good childhood. Since you can't return the time, you want to give Mark and Kendall the best childhood. 

"I've been living my life like a walking corpse. It doesn't matter to me if today or tomorrow will be my last day."

Being a hitman, you need to kill your feelings and emotions. 

But you regained both when you saw Mark and Kendall at your brother's funeral. The way Mark protects his baby brother is the same as when you were kids. Suddenly, you remembered when you and your brother could only be silent when the parents were fighting and arguing. 

You don't want that memory to happen again. 

That's why you volunteered to be the guardian for Mark and Kendall. You want to provide them with the best childhood. 

"I do love them. They're the reason why I want to wake up and live every day."

When Lloyd heard that, it confirmed his guess. You’re not coming back. He wants to say he doesn’t like it, but you’ve made your choice.

He lifted the blanket and then stood up from the bed. "Let's go. Bruno had left me hundreds of messages."

You were taken aback seeing him being disappointed. It seems like you made a mistake. But you don't know why. 

Both of you walk together to your apartment. When you arrived at the building, Lloyd whispered to your ears, "The stalker has been following us. I'll get him."

You didn't feel threatened. "Don't do anything. Meet me at the park once you get him."

Lloyd nodded and left. 

The moment you arrived at your apartment, Bruno opened the door. Heartbreak crossed his arms. "You're late."

You shrugged your shoulders. "We got a surprise attack last night."

"Bullshit. You spend the night with him." 

You scoffed and headed into the room. You saw your nephew drawing on the kid's table. 

"I hope they're not trouble you."

"They're good kids."

Mark and Kendall were used to babysitting. Their father works as a detective and always goes home late at night. 

"Where's Lloyd? I thought you came here together."

You got closer to Bruno and whispered, "He noticed I have a stalker, so he went to catch him."

"Oh. We noticed that." 

You raised your eyebrows. "We?"

Bruno clicked his tongue. The secret finally got out. He went to the coffee machine to make coffee. "Well the reason why we came here is to bring you back to the agency."

He poured the coffee into the glass. "I'm not supposed to say this, but he missed you."

"Lloyd?"

"Well, both of you are the best duo and could finish a difficult mission in a short time without being stabbed or getting shots. Since you left, he chose to work alone."

'Ring.'

A phone call from Lloyd: "I've found him. It's just a kid."

"A kid?" You thought you heard wrong. You immediately ran to the park.

When you arrived, you saw Lloyd sitting on the bench while the other person kneeled. 

Lloyd noticed you. "I think you should talk to him."

You looked at the kid who was wearing an oversized hoodie. No wonder why you don't feel threatened. He's just a teenager. 

You got closer and leaned down "Why did you follow me?"

The teenager lifted his face to look at you. "I want to apologize to you and the kids."

"Me? Why?"

"It's because of me the detective got exposed with the drugs and he lost his life. I'm so sorry." He bowed his head to the ground. 

You have learned about your brother's death. He was investigating the drug case, and he met the drug addict. When he went to one location, he was exposed to fentanyl and inhaled it. He got overdosed, and the help arrived late. 

The teenage sobbing, "I got sent to rehabilitation, and when I got out, I wanted to apologize, but I'm too scared to face you. It's because of me the kids lost their father. 

When you hear his explanation, you want to punch him. But you can't do it. Your brother would be disappointed. The reason why he joined law enforcement is to help people. 

You squared down at the same level as him. "Stop feeling guilty. At least you apologize and admit your mistakes. You have stopped doing drugs, too. My brother would be proud of your effort."

After you said those words, you could see the teenage face brighten up a bit. Seems like your words ease his burden. He is still young and has much time to fix his life. 

You share an encouragement to the teenager before you and Lloyd go back to the apartment. 

While walking together, he grabbed your hand. "That was disappointing. I was expecting you to gage his eyes out and pull his finger nails."

You giggled. "If I were still a hitman, I would do it. But now, I must be a good role model for my nephew."

Lloyd hummed and kept walking. 

You notice him sulking; he could be childish sometimes. "I'm sorry, Lloyd. I'm going to stay."

Lloy stopped his foot."I understand."

You were silent until you said, "But I will be here for you, and they like you."

Lloyd stopped again. But this time, he looks at you with a smile. "Don't use them to get me."

"Mister Hansen!"

Lloyd heard the familiar voice. He looked up front and saw Mark running towards you while Bruno carried Kendall. 

With his little leg, Mark runs faster than he holds Lloyd's legs. 

Lloyd looked at you and sighed. "I'll come and visit when I have the time."

5 years later. 

"Left, right, left, right."

"More passion, more energy."

Three males are running together. They're jogging at the same pace. 

Lloyd in the middle, Mark on his right, and Kendall on his left. This jogging is for Kendall. He's joining the marathon for this year. 

His cancer treatment went well, and his body accepted all the medicine. He became cancer-free when he was five years old. 

"Always keep your pace, and be confident at the race Kendall."

Kendall looked up and nodded. "Okay, Dad."

Lloyd hummed happily when he heard that. It never occurred to him would be called by that name.

It happened after he put the ring on your finger. After three years, he decided to retire from being a hitman and join you. 

The four of you became a complete family. It's quick for Kendall to call Lloyd as dad, but Mark doesn't. He still calls him uncle or mister. But if he mentioned Lloyd with his friends or teacher, he would "I will ask my dad first."

After the training, three of them go home. When they opened the door, a delicious aroma filled their nose. 

They saw a variety of food plates on the dining table. 

Lloyd is always greeted with this warm picture after he marries you. 

You were putting a spoon of sugar into the pot when you saw them, "You guys got back early."

Mark unties his shoelace. "The sky darkened, and it's going to start raining. Mister Hansen doesn't want mud on his shoes."

Lloyd shook his head; he ruffled Mark's hair. "You and your brother go take a shower before eating."

"Okay." Both of them answered together and ran to their room.

After the kids were gone, Lloyd joined you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You felt his mischievous gaze before he kissed you. 

You never thought you could have this life before you didn't want anything. This was before you met your brother again, and Lloyd suddenly appeared by helicopter. 

The moment they appear, your dull life turns to bright. You weren't prepared, but with them, you could do anything. The world is yours, and you're not alone in it. It's a gift, a blessing, the best gift of all. And it's yours to keep.

-The End-

Thank you so much for reading and following the series. I know the ending seems rushed, it's because I have no more idea how to continue the story.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Last Chapter.

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi please 🥹

Taglist:

@sabrinaselina55, @magnificentsaladllama , @cherrybubblebullet @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters , @bagoffeelings @darkofimagination, @starsofcloud, @thatzolagirl, @distancedss, @mswgtsd @chibijusstuff

[astronautbeans]

Uhhhh randchers duo!!

you are wonderful and amazing thank you <3 one ranchers snip coming right up!!!

PEOPLE GO VOTE GHOST’S VAULT OVER HERE IM WRITING ANYTHING YOU COULD IF YOU SEND ME PROOF YOU VOTED FOR GHOST VAULT @mcyt-builds-contest

Whoever gave Tango the idea that Jimmy didn’t have fire in him — and therefore would never truly match him — had been utterly, embarrassingly wrong. The universe didn’t make mistakes. When it had said ‘your nether flames and his golden wings belong together’, it had known. It didn’t bind their souls together for no treason, it had known.

Tango hadn’t thought he could admire Jimmy more than he already did. Sure, his wit, his charisma, his nature, all those traits made him easily lovable, but somewhere deep down below, there were embers. Embers that, when struck, provoked, were more than willing to start burning.

He looked up at his once soulmate, red eyes wide in wonder, one arm numb from the TNT that had brought him down, and he couldn’t help the proud grin that parted his lips and showed his teeth. There in front of him, Jimmy’s wings were bright with golden flames. The were spread wide, cutting Grian off from him, the fire filling in the gaps where his wings were short.

As much as his body begged him to let himself fall asleep, he stayed up to watch Jimmy chase Grian away. The pride was just enough to keep his eyes from slipping shut as the adrenaline started to wear off. He wanted to cheer, wanted to shout “Whoo! I knew you had it in you!”, but he couldn’t so much as say his name. Instead, a pathetic groan escaped — really, people needed to see he was the incompetent one of the two.

When Jimmy finally turned to him and kneeled by his side, his eyes were bright and glowed golden light. He looked downright angelic, like he’d flown down from the sky like a guardian angel just for him. He was the canary, but instead of his voice dying out, he turned aflame to lead the miners out the cave, a brightness in the abyss, a lantern.

Tango didn’t doubt the hand Jimmy reached out to help him up was hot to the touch. He couldn’t tell even if he wanted to. He staggered to his feet, Jimmy catching him easily, and laughed softly in embarrassment.

“Thank you,” he muttered, a genuine smile on his face as he looked up at his once soulmate — he wouldn’t mind still calling him that.

The flames died down. Jimmy looked … tired, but his eyes were painted with concern, protectiveness, like he’d set himself and the ground around him aflame again if he needed to.

But as they did, the collar around his neck became visible again. A yellow timer ticked down, and it was a horrid reminder that this wasn’t Double Life anymore. They weren’t soulmates anymore.

And still, as Jimmy smiled at him, he couldn’t quite agree with that. They weren’t tethered together anymore, but there was something strong between them still.

“No more little canary, huh? Who knew there was a phoenix beneath all that?” He grinned, exhausted as he was, and patted his chest.

Jimmy just rolled his eyes. “Don’t let Grian get you like that again. I might not be there to save you again like that.”

Tango gave him a curt nod, though he would love to see those brilliant flames again. They’d match pretty well with his own, wouldn’t they?

not my best work but we’re gonna roll with it, hope you liked it <3

[atlasscrumpit]

It may be kinda wierd. Yandere stuckony.

The reader is a uni student. And they're her guardian angels who fit into the society by being her professors. They fall in love with her even though they aren't allowed to fall in love with human.

And the reader doesn't understand why they keep looking at her. She's even more surprised when she notices that they appear everytime she's in trouble.

(not really Yandere but still)

Bucky/Tony/Steve platonic x reader

Bucky sat at his desk while Tony paced up and down his office.

"Look I'm thankful and all but after I died I thought I'd have like...heaven and peace and all that nice shit. Now I just have to spend my days as a goddamn professor to protect a girl?" Tony grumbled as Bucky took his glasses off and rubbed his face.

"You should be thankful, being a guardian is one of the highest jobs. They don't choose just anyone." Bucky replied making Tony roll his eyes.

"Can I at least get drunk?" Tony asked, Bucky stopped and groaned.

"No, you cannot. You have a duty and you'll complete that duty." Bucky replied before Tony walked out mumbling under his breath.

He passed Steve while he entered Bucky's office.

"Trouble with the new kid?" Steve asked sitting accross from him.

"I still have no idea why they chose him." Bucky grumbled staring at the work in front of him.

"Well, they obviously saw something in him, how's Y/N going lately?" Steve asked as Bucky looked up from his work.

"She's started dating someone and her grades are going down, he seems like a piece of shit too. I know we're not supposed to interfere but I have a bad feeling about this guy, just keep an eye on her, okay?" Bucky warned as a Steve nodded.

"Got it, chief." Steve replied before leaving.

Bucky didn't love being the team leader, but he'd been a guardian longer than Steve or Tony.

Bucky died in war and Steve only a few years later.

But, Tony had only been doing this for less than a year.

Steve was about to leave when he felt an odd sensation.

"Did you feel that?" Steve muttered, turning around to see Bucky already standing up.

"It's Y/N." Bucky said as him and Steve rushed out.

Tony wasn't fair behind them shouting about something.

They got to your dorm room and heard you crying and screaming for help.

Bucky kicked the door down while Steve ran in, he saw your boyfriend pinning you down as you cried out.

He instantly grabbed him and threw him to the floor.

"Get the fuck off her!" Steve shouted as Bucky forced him out of the door.

You scrambled to get your pants back on as you cried softly.

Steve knelt beside your bed.

"Hey, it's okay. It's alright, Y/N." Steve said as he grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around you.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry." You whispered as Bucky came over and handed you some water.

"What are you all doing here?" You asked, your eyes still wide.

"We were passing by and heard you call for help." Steve explained as you nodded a little.

"Did he manage to..." Steve muttered as you shook your head.

"No, you got here just in time." You whispered as Steve nodded.

"W-Will you help me report him?" You whispered, looking at Steve as he offered you a soft smile.

"Of course, Y/N." 

--

After Steve, Bucky and Tony had called your best friend they left your dorm, knowing you would be safe.

But, they were definitely going straight to the head office to report the man that had tried to hurt you.

"I don't get why she needs two guardians like you two and also me. I mean, just one of you could've stop what just happened." Tony said making Bucky groan a little.

"Don't question things so much." Bucky grumbled making Tony roll his eyes once more.

"Or what? I'll become a demon or some shit?" Tony grumbled, Steve decided to just say out of it for the moment.

"Demons aren't real, Tony. Humans created them as an excuse to do bad things." Bucky said, Tony slowly realising a lot more about the world he lived and died in.

--

It had been a few months since the incident and thankfully your ex had been kicked out of university.

But, there was something about your favourite professors... They seemed too know a lot about you that professors shouldn't.

Bucky was working in his office like usual when Tony burst through the door.

"Have you ever heard of knocking, Tony?" Bucky grumbled, not even looking up from his work.

"Can we have sex?" He asked as Bucky looked up.

"You're not my type." He grumbled making Tony roll his eyes.

"Not you and I! I just mean...whatever we are. Is it okay to have sex?" Tony asked with a hopeful smile.

"As long as it doesn't interfere with your job, yes you can indulge in those pleasures." Bucky replied before Tony rushed off again.

Not long after Tony had left, Steve entered Bucky's office.

"I feel like Y/N might be on to us or something... I don't know, she seems different around us lately." Steve muttered as he sat across from Bucky.

"She has been a bit off lately, I'll pull her aside after class tomorrow and talk to her. She has been avoiding us." Bucky muttered looking at Steve.

--

You packed up your bag as quick as you could, ready to rush back to your door before you were stopped.

"Y/N, can I see you for a moment?" The professor asked as you sighed and rolled your eyes, so close.

You walked up to him and smiled.

"Everything okay?" You asked, he returned your smile.

"You just seem a little off lately, I wanted to make sure you were okay." He said as you looked at him in confusion.

"You never care if the other students are a bit off." You grumbled as he chuckled softly.

"Maybe not, but you have a lot of potential and I don't want to see you fail." He said as you crossed your arms.

"What is it with you, Rogers and that new teacher? You guys never stop staring at me, are you attracted to me or something?" You asked, Bucky was surprised you were so upfront about it.

"No, Y/N." He said as you narrowed your eyes.

"So, what is it then?" You asked, he could see you were getting quite paranoid.

Bucky sighed and sat down.

"Have a seat, Y/N." He said as you reluctantly sat down.

"It's complicated, Y/N... We're here to protect you, you don't ever need to be afraid of us." Bucky whispered, only confusing you even more.

"Just fucking tell me what's happening!" You shouted making Bucky groan with annoyance.

"No, I know how to test it." You grumbled grabbing scissors off his desk.

"Anytime I'm in danger all three of you somehow know!" You said as you grabbed the scissors and cut down your arm.

"Y/N! Enough!" Bucky yelled as he stood up and pulled the scissors away from you.

Steve and Tony came running into the room and you looked at Bucky.

"The truth, now." You growled as he sighed and looked at Steve and Tony.

"She may as well know." Bucky said, the two men looking at him in shock.

Bucky was always a stickler for rules.

"She's driving herself mad with this, the only way to help is telling her the truth." Bucky continued as the two men nodded.

"Then tell me!" You shouted, Bucky groaned and waved his hand over the cut on your arm and healed it.

You looked at it in shock and then back up to him.

"Y/N, we are guardians. That's the best way to describe it. We're here to protect you, we don't know why there's three of us but...what we do know is that for some reason you need us." He said as you looked away and took in a deep breath.

"This is a lot to take in... But, I also read a lot of comics and kind of prepared for this... Okay, I'm good." You said as Tony looked at you in shock.

"Did you just talk yourself through this whole thing in like ten seconds?" He asked as you nodded.

"Yeah, is that weird?"

[bestygogirl]

BEST YGO GIRL: Round 4, Group B

Match 2

please use this as an opportunity to say why you like a character, not why you don't.

Propaganda under the cut!

Aoi Zaizen

The show hates her but she is a very good character. Trickstars and Marincesses are both hella cool decks.

Aoi’s parents died when she was around 6 and she was mostly raised by her older brother. She’s the 2nd best Duelist in the VRAINS at the start of the series and over the course of the first season goes from being rather shy and only putting on a happy facade to a determined Duelist willing to risk her life to save the world. She even puts a stop to a virus that’s leaving people in comas.

Aoi gets two more avatars (Blue Girl and Blue Maiden) and also obtains a semi-magic AI named Aqua as her partner.

She never lets her trauma keep her down and was a huge inspiration for me in high school!

AOI ZAIZEN IS THE BEST GIRL! She's gonna sweep this whole tournament and here's why:

Is the peak YGO Girl who Deserved Better from the writers

Just a normal everyday girl IRL who secretly turns into an ultra bubbly sweetheart idol who everyone absolutely loves when in the virtual world.

Her VRAINS persona is extremely popular, and none of her fans know that she's just Some Girl.

Plays an idol deck with Trickstars (toxic meta combo not included)

Is sheltered by her overprotective older step-brother/guardian, but very quickly stands up for herself and what she believes is right.

Mutual protection with said step-brother is the sweetest thing ever, I love Aoi and Akira moments so much!

She does NOT fall head over heels for the main protagonist, but they do share a nice conversation and handshake as they become friends IRL (one of the best VRAINS scenes, honestly)

Absolutely wrecks Soulburner for like 99% of their duel, and only loses because the writers don't understand how to move a plot along if Soulburner doesn't win as many duels as possible

Duels two seasonal antagonists, and completely destroys them both before losing thanks to an OP anime card that will never see the light of day, and a one-off card made specifically to counter her strategy and have her lose.

Her first virtual avatar, Blue Angel, is inspired by the main character from her favorite childhood book. That's adorable!

Her main summoning chants are all about hopes, dreams, and believing in yourself.

In the English dub, she says "I could so swipe left on you right now" implying that Tinder exists in the Yu-Gi-Oh universe.

Never got the Magical Girl transformation sequence she deserved because the writers apparently were not aware that Yu-Gi-Oh VRAINS is a Magical Girl show, despite the two main dudes getting that special treatment.

AOI ZAIZEN DESERVED BETTER! Give her what she deserves!

AND SHE'S A TRANS LESBIAN

Dark Magician Girl

she is iconic, basically the unofficial mascot of the anime. She has so much merch and so much fanart she is THE girl ever

[mckiwi]

The Dance of 1650

Chapter Five: Guardian Angel

Read on AO3

Start<< Prev< >Next

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Category: Gen

Fandom: Good Omens

Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley, Aziraphale/Crowley

Characters: Aziraphale, Crowley, OFCs, OMCs

“I did the ‘I was wrong’ dance in 1650, in 1793, 1941–” -Aziraphale S2:E1 39:45

If 1793 was the crepe incident and 1941 was the magic show, what happened in 1650? Or rather, what happened the time Crowley was accused of witchcraft?

---

This is written for Whumptober 2024. All of the prompts will be used by being divided up between six chapters throughout October. Each chapter will have a list of the prompts used in the tags.

“You can quit the begging and praying. No angels will come save you.”

“He will if he ever wants to see me again!” 

Aziraphale wrung his hands together and paced in one of the church’s back rooms. He’d gotten Crowley off of the consecrated ground, at least. That was his most pressing concern, but now that she was dealt with, he didn’t even know where to begin. This was as far as his hastily put-together plan had taken him. 

He could really go for some crepes right about now. And a drink. With Crowley. Far away from this town and Scotland in its entirety. The weather here was too dreary and chilly for his liking, anyhow. 

That could wait. General Bell would be back anytime now, more than likely wanting to discuss Crowley’s sentence. Obviously, he didn’t want her to die, that was simply unthinkable. If Crowley were to be discorporated, she’d be downstairs for decades! Who could he possibly thwart in the meantime? 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could admit to himself he’d miss her company immensely, regardless of the accompanying wiles. But those were thoughts for the back burner, once those were invented. For now, he had more pressing matters. 

Four knocks in quick succession at the door broke Aziraphale out of his thoughts, “Yes? Who is it?”

“General Nicholas Bell. May I enter?” The man announced. 

Aziraphale steeled himself and crossed to open the door, “Hello, General. How can I help you?”

The general seemed slightly put out. “Afternoon, Brother Fell. I was just wondering of your intentions with the demon.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” the angel lied.

Bell searched for his words for a moment before stating, “I’ll admit, at first I thought your intervening with the trial to be troublesome. Brother Rowe let my men and I decide the fate of witches. Your insistence has delayed the witch’s sentence, certainly. But for that very reason, I’m thankful. If we had proceeded with the sentencing without knowing the truth, that poor woman the demon is possessing would have died unjustly.”

What about all the other women who died? A voice that sounded suspiciously like Crowley argued. Aziraphale shoved that thought to the metaphorical back burner, too. “I see. Pardon me if I sound obtuse, but, what difference does it make if your subject is a witch or demon?”

“That’s what I was here to ask you,” Bell answered. “I’m a Witch Hunter. I’ve no experience with the supernatural. You, however, gave me those verses to reveal a demon’s nature and how to cleanse a body with holy water. Do you know of a way to kill a demon?”

Yes. He very well knew how to kill a demon. It was his job, admittedly one he was very bad at. 

Aziraphale looked down at Crawley. Would he kill her? He looked out across the mass of tattered blankets and sleeping children. He looked at the baby who had never been safer than in the arms of a demon. The ark gave a particularly awful lurch, or it might’ve just been the guilt settling in his stomach as he turned the other cheek. “I’ve been commanded to protect every life aboard, and that’s what I intend to do.” 

“You can’t kill this demon,” Aziraphale said in way of an explanation. It wasn’t a lie. They can’t kill Crowley. He wouldn’t allow it. “The most you could possibly do is send it back to Hell.”

Bell nodded, “and how do we do that?”

Aziraphale hesitated, “Give me some time and I’ll have a solution. This is a very delicate matter, you see. I can’t afford any mistakes.”

The general accepted this, “Understood. Thank you for assisting me. Is tomorrow morning sufficient time for you?”

“That should do, yes. I’ll be here in the morning.” Aziraphale agreed. 

His wording seemed to trip something in the other man’s memory, “Your lodgings! I’m sorry for the state we left it in. I will have some of my men repair things for you. By the time this ordeal is over, all of your things will be just as you left them.” 

Nothing would be the same after this was over, but he let it go with a short hum. General Bell took it for the dismissal it was and left Aziraphale to his thoughts once again. 

The sun had long since set on the horizon. Aziraphale had papers strewn out in front of him and a cup of tea that had hardly been touched. It was fortunate angels didn’t need sleep, not that Aziraphale would be able to regardless, not when he still didn’t have a plan in place. 

He’d had several ideas, though none of them seemed worthwhile. His most promising idea thus far involved causing an earthquake and breaking the doors to the cell, allowing Crowley to escape, but that’d been done before, and it’d surely be noticed by humans and Heaven alike. Scotland wasn’t exactly known to have foundation-shattering quakes, after all, so that idea carried about as much potential as a piece of wet firewood. 

Wet firewood… he could suggest Crowley be burned at the stake, but–

No, that wouldn’t work. Aziraphale hung his head in his hands and scrubbed at his face harshly. How had they gotten into this situation again? 

He mulled over several more ideas in the following hours. One such idea involved Crowley turning into a snake and slipping out unnoticed through the mob of people. He thought better of it when he remembered what God had last said to the Serpent of Eden. He will crush your head, and you will strike his heel. Best not to have Crowley around that many snake-crushable boots. 

As the sun rose and the fog dissipated, Aziraphale set out through the village in search of… something. He first stopped by the cells but found them guarded and locked. Crowley was inside, he could sense that much. She wasn’t on the verge of discorporation, at the very least, though Aziraphale would wager Crowley’d complain she’d ‘die of boredom’ if only given the smidgen of the chance. She loved to complain and gripe, though hardly ever did anything to solve the apparent problem. “Why would I thwart my own wiles? That’s meant to be your job, innit?” She’d said once. 

There were three ways they typically executed witches. He visited all three sites and plotted. 

Trial by Water. This was the most common trial, and perhaps the only execution that could somehow be deemed a ‘trial.’ The accused would die either way, but there was the possibility of a posthumous decree of innocence. The witch was tied and thrown into the lake. They would either drown, proving their innocence, or they would survive, only to be convicted of witchcraft and hanged for it. 

Aziraphale eyed the docks of the nearby lake. They didn’t technically need to breathe, so perhaps Crowley could stay submerged long enough for the crowd to disperse and for Aziraphale to fetch her. 

Trial by Hanging. This wasn’t so much of a trial as it was a death sentence, plain and simple. The accused would be hanged for their supposed crimes. At the very least, it would be a swift death. 

Again, they didn’t technically need to breathe, but the rope might cause undue damage to Crowley’s throat or even decapitate her, and Aziraphale didn’t want to risk it. Though, if the rope frayed just so, and if it just so happened to snap… Aziraphale tucked away that idea for further review. 

Trial by Fire. It was less an execution than it was an act of theatre. A spectacle for those fully believed to be witches and to serve as a warning to others. A pyre of wood was lit aflame with the witch tied to a stake in its midst. 

Could he make it so the fire wouldn’t ignite? Or at the very least not harm Crowley? Their corporations were resilient, yes, but still mostly human. Fire would destroy her corporation all the same. 

Hellfire might not, though. 

——————

That afternoon, Aziraphale convinced General Bell the only way to send a demon back to Hell was with fire. Hell was often depicted as a fiery pit of sulfur and brimstone, after all, so it wasn’t too difficult to have the General come to this conclusion. The best lies always hold an element of truth, as Crowley had told him once. 

And so Aziraphale began to plan this spectacular escape. He couldn’t get too close to the Hellfire himself, else he meet a rather gruesome and permanent end, dooming them both in the process. He could remove the Miracle-dampening shackles, however, and tie a knot loose enough around her wrists to trick onlookers but be enough for Crowley to slip through. 

Now all he had to do was get down to Crowley’s cell and tell her of his plan! She would think his plan was genius!

“Full offence, Angel, your plan’s horrible.”

Or perhaps not. 

They bickered the point back and forth until it suddenly came to a screeching halt. 

“Why not!”

“Because it could destroy you!” Crowley bellowed. Aziraphale stared in stunned silence. “I’m not living in a world where I’m the reason you’re not.”

What could he possibly say to that? Aziraphale swallowed, “And the feeling is mutual.”

It didn’t take long before Aziraphale caved and brought the demon into his arms. She stiffened at the contact and the angel retreated, fearing having hurt her, but she ignored his concerns and leaned into the hug. He allowed himself this moment. They would figure things out. They would be okay in the end. He mustered up enough self-control to stand and leave the cell with a promise of wine tomorrow night. 

——————

The rising sun was met with cheerful birdsong, unbeknownst to Aziraphale’s emotional turmoil. A pyre was being set up while other people went about their everyday lives as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Aziraphale felt sick to his stomach. 

Soon enough, a band of people strode forward with two people in tow, one of which being Crowley. She still had the Miracle-dampening shackles on and a gag in place, looking worse for wear. Three days chained to a cold, hard floor hadn’t done the demon any favours. She looked as if she hadn’t slept the entire time if the half-lidded eyes and sluggish movements were anything to go by. Or that could just be the old wounds reopening from the unusual movements after being mostly stationary. Aziraphale, not for the first time, felt a tug of regret. He shouldn’t have ever gotten them tangled up in this mess. A torch was lit aflame and Aziraphale took a stabilizing breath as Crowley was led to…

The docks?

What?

Aziraphale was about to question the purpose of the pyre when he took notice of the second person being brought to trial. 

Doctor John Davis stepped up and was tied to the stake.

“Hang on just one moment! This isn’t what we discussed!” Aziraphale exclaimed and strode over to General Bell. “We said Crowley would have a Trial by Fire! Whatever happened to that?”

Bell nodded, “I understand your confusion. I do appreciate your valiant effort to help the cause, but the more I thought over your words, I realized that if you want something done right, you’ll see it done yourself.”

Aziraphale gaped, “what about the doctor? Where does he get involved in this?”

“He confessed to being a witch in exchange for his daughter’s life,” Bell answered. 

“This is– this is a right outrage! We had a deal!”

“No, Brother Fell, I don’t believe we did,” Bell chided. “I asked for your advice, which you gave. I never said I would do what you said.” Aziraphale was struck with the thought that Gabriel and Nicholas Bell might get along splendidly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a Trial to get started.”

Bell nodded toward the man holding the torch. The man pulled away Davis’ gag and asked, “Any last remarks?”

Davis took a deep breath and spoke, “I only hope my wife will be there to catch me should I fall for my sins and that God will forgive me for my trespasses.” 

Aziraphale sent a quiet Blessing his way. 

Bell nodded toward the man holding Crowley and removed her gag. “Any last remarks?”

Crowley licked her lips and wrinkled her nose in disgust, “yeah, no. I’ve already done the whole ‘Fall for my sins’ bit. Not a fan. But really? This entire charade has been something Hastur would love to hear about. In fact, I think I’ll introduce you to him personally.” At that, Crowley levelled Bell with an impressive demonic glare, which really wasn’t helping her current allegations. 

“That is all then,” Bell started. “I hereby sentence Doctor Davis to burn at the stake and the demon Crowley to be cleansed by holy water.”

Angel and demon looked up in utmost alarm. “I beg your pardon?!” Aziraphale all but shouted. 

Bell exhaled heavily and cast Aziraphale an annoyed glance, “Yes, Brother Fell? Are you in objection to my using the verses you gave me specifically for if a demon should come across my path to God’s Light?”

Aziraphale huffed, “Well I didn’t mean for it to be this particular demon.”

The Witch Hunter caught onto his wording like a hound to a fox’s scent, “Be careful how you speak. You being a minister doesn’t give you any protection from the righteous flames of the pyre.”

Crowley struggled in the man’s hold, “Oi, watch it!” She spat even as the man tightened the ropes. 

“I’m growing tired of these interruptions,” Bell seethed and raised a hand, “benedic aquas has in nomine angeli!”

Aziraphale saw the way Crowley instinctively shied away from the water despite not feeling the effects himself. “So that’s it then?” Crowley asked the Hunter. “You tie me up and throw me in just to die either way. I’ll sink or swim.”

Bell hummed, “‘Sink or Swim’ you say? I like that. I think I’ll use that.” At Crowley’s indignant scoff, the Hunter looked out across the gathering crowd. “Light the fire. Throw her in.”

Aziraphale and Crowley screamed as one as the demon’s back hit the water. 

[asnowfern]

For @nessianweek day 3: Song Association

A/N: This line in Angels Like You by Miley Cyrus really reminded me of post-acowar Nessian. Here's a little accompanying drabble below the cut!

Nesta's eyes were closed, her ears straining to ignore everything but the live music of the tavern. When she felt the larger than life presence that took the seat next to hers, she did not open her eyes or acknowledge the newcomer.

There is only the music, she told herself. The lively beat, the lilting vocals, the accompanying strings, the-

Slight drum of fingers.

Her train of thought slammed to a halt, brakes screeching loudly in protest. Her eyes flew open and she pointedly did not look to her side and downed her glass, slamming it against the table. The wooden surface shook slightly in the echo of the impact.

"Careful not to break the glass on your hand, sweetheart," the voice teased.

Nesta did not need to ask why he was here. It was obvious. Just like how every crack of the fireplace was just as much of a reminder. She did not need a funeral or say goodbye to the headstone.

Crack.

She suppressed a shudder to little effect.

Not when she let him die with hatred and bitterness in her heart, his empty glassy eyes etched into her cursed immortal brain. She did not deserve forgiveness, she did not deserve closures. And she did not deserve the male next to her.

Before she could stop herself, she sneaked a peek at the Illyrian male next to her. His hazel eyes were trained at the rows of liquor bottles behind the bar, broad fingers lightly toyed with his glass, swirling it occasionally. The dim faelights reflected some of his striking features while also obscuring his face with dancing shadows, almost dragging him down to the darkness. To her.

Nesta could've sworn she saw those idle fingers twitch at his side as the edge of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. He knew she was staring, was a moment from making a lewd comment about it. So she cuts in, swiftly picking up a second drink off the bar counter and gulping it down. This time, she lets it crash its way back to the surface almost a little too close to his hand.

Cassian didn't flinch. Instead, he turned to her, brow raised, "You are more likely to hurt yourself than me with these little smashes."

She huffed and stood up abruptly, snatching up a random bottle of wine and left the establishment. The tavern owners knew enough by now who bankrolled her ever growing tab.

He followed close behind, trailing back barely half a step, his hulking form easily clearing the path for them. Eventually, they stopped in a quiet corner.

Nesta spun herself around, icy blue glaring up fiercely at dancing hazel, and demanded, 'How long are you going to follow me around?'

"I didn't think you wanted to be alone today," he shrugged.

The next cutting words bubbled, indignant at his presumptuousness, but died at her lips as his face softened, at his eyes that held such gentle concern and affection. Her heart sputtered and wreaked havoc on her bodily functions. Instead the words that spilled out were, "Take me somewhere only you know"

He paused for a beat before his recently healed wings spread and stretched, strong arms gently securing themselves around her. Without a word, they took off smoothly into the dark sky.

He landed them in an old clock tower. It wasn't the tallest nor the newest clock tower in the city. The large rust covered bell hovered creakily next to them. Yet, the view.

Oh, the view.

It was a perfect unobstructed view of the bridge and Sidra, the snow capped Illyrian mountains flanking it like a protective guardian.

More than that, it was quiet. Nothing but the lulling melody of the spring wind in their faces.

"I spent a lot of time here during those forty nine years. Just drinking, worrying," he confessed, his mind lost to the past, "hating myself for letting him go into danger alone, for failing as his general, his brother."

She recognised the moment for what it was, a shared vulnerability, a truce. She looped an arm around an elbow and squeezed slightly. You didn't fail.

Calloused fingers interlaced with hers, squeezing back reassuringly. And you're not alone. Not today, never. His thumb rubbed soothing circles. I'm here.

They didn't speak, not verbally. But his shoulders would nudge almost playfully at hers. His wings eventually unfurled to wrap around them when she shivered with the wind. Her eyes followed the trail of scarred membranes on his wings, the sound of agonised screams echoed in her head, a reminder of her failures.

Crack.

Nesta felt her body beginning to shake.

A comforting hand lifted hers to the wing, gently pressing soft fingertips to the scars on the hard and strong bony structure, it's fine. I'm fine, we're fine.

In the darkness of a sleeping Velaris, surrounded by the singing breeze and protective mountains, Nesta found the words slipping past her lips, "Wings like yours will only get dragged to hell with me"

The leathered wings curled tighter around them as low tones vibrated down her spine, "Wings like these are meant to fly you out of hell."

[cheerleaderman]

Yuya OverBlot

Ok ok been thinking about Yuya’s overblot it’s all over the place bear with me

But first when Yuya was at the mirror it called her a shattered soul. Give that Yuya only has half a soul since the other half is still in his original world.

Yuya collected bolt in their body due to being exposed to all the OverBlots. Chapter 6 and 7 a lot of boltage was collected in them.This is way Yuya’s eyes gets darker also the bolts is just sitting there like a cup about to overflow with water.

Before the OverBlot

Like with all the other OverBlot there would be a Series of dreams. It would feature the shooting star over the castle in the beginning of the movies and scenes of people wishing on stars. The last dream will be a conversation Yuya had with her mother.

“People wish on stars in hopes their dreams come true”

“But what about the stars Mama? Do the stars have dreams and wishes of their own”

“I not completely sure——“

Unlike the previous times she can’t pinpoint who exactly represents a star in the school. Feeling uneasy about the upcoming OverBlot they’ll have to deal with while at Heartslabyul they asked the 5 who do they think would represent a star. Taking a minute to think being used to Yuya’s random questions at this point Cater responds that the only person he can think of is Yuya.

“It would have to be you Yu-Yu, being the perfect, always helping that’s practically filling people in a way, Headmage said he wanted you to bring change to the school. You’re basically NRC shooting star”

The next OverBlot is me?? But I don’t even have magic how can that happen??? Was all that was on his mind for the next few days.

Also like how Riddle has Red-rose tyrant I was thinking of names A burnt out star- Memories of the Deep- A shooting star’s wish- In the memories of star

OverBlot/form

Once the other half of Yuya soul comes to Twst the bolt left their body and gave other Yu a physical form. The Yuus starts having a having a who are you? You’re me? What happened to me…us?. When they touch they Yuya start to feel enormous pain as if they’re body was getting crushed and passed out. This is when Yuya gets there memories back but in the midst of that the blot Yuya turns into an OverBlot form.

-Yuya will only have a bit of her soul back so now she’s has 2/3 while the rest is claimed by the bolt.

OB!Yuya puts Yuya in a cage to keep him safe. It will stands guard until someone sends an attack or try to get close to Yuya. “ The only on there to protect you is yourself”

-Has 7 different forms representing the 7 OverBlots since its mainly their blot in Yuya’s body. Each Form has its own ability and will mimic bits of personality of how the OverBloters acted.All forms will have chains for despite how hard Yuya tries to move on they never escaped and end up falling back into their old habits.

-OB!Yuya is Yuya but still separate entities, OB! Yuya can still live on without Yuya because it has part of her soul but if Yuya dies while they’re separated it will go berserk and now everyone screwed since it only listens to Yuya.

-Yuya his self cannot use the bolt he will have to separate but he will pass out for a bit when that happens. If you know the Persona series think of it as Yuya using a persona.

-Even though OB!Yuya doesn’t talk it can repeat things from Yuya’s memories that happened during that overblot like chapter 6 from Idia/Ortho bolt form gave the ability to summon bolt creatures and if they are hurt you’ll hear Idia’s voice yelling about how they hurt Ortho

- A guardian angel, always helping, the savior

-Yuya can choose to live on in Twst but their perception of death drastically or choose to Die being tired of everything which will be the “bad” ending.

-Getting back their memories Yuya has a breakdown in the dream world their in. They been dead this whole time!?!? WHY They can never visit mom again, they were trying to get better after escaping one bad place just to be put in another bad place. Why me what did I do to deserve this, I wasn’t even allowed a peaceful death, could my cousin be out there?(he is) he got hit by the black carriage too. In response to this OB!Yuya will be looking Crowley dead in the eyes while there is the sound of a carriage hitting someone on repeat in the background  

[ma-du]

God, why would you drag me back to the Phantom.... Oh yeah. It's Little Baby Man's fault Lmao

ANYWAY

DP x DC Au, where Batman somehow dies and – to the delight and horror of the Joker and other villains and the Batfam – returns as the Guardian Ghost of Gotham, practically the Gothamite version – and adult and reasonably scarier, not least because he looks a lot like the Batman Who Laughs – of Danny Phantom. Which, come to think of it, isn't much different than when he was alive lmao

His main obsession is protecting Gotham, of course, and it's obvious that he haunts both the batcave and that poor long-suffering gargoyle where he used to perch to watch over the city and brooding.

He's kind of a spirit of justice and vengeance? Like, sort of like Ghost Rider, but without the whole devil and fallen angel and fire-destroying sinners and chains thing? He scares villains to the point where a good number of them shit themselves once or ten times, and duh, he may be dead after all, but he's still fucking Batman. And he will protect his fucking city, not even if he has to drag himself back from the afterlife to do so.

And of COURSE the city was going to be in chaos after his death, how the hell wouldn't it be? Batman died in front of everyone, there's a video or a billion of them, of what's left of his body being taken to the Justice Tower morgue by Superman on the internet, and apparently Bruce Wayne had a sudden stroke and ended up dying in the Wayne Mansion – not that those things are related, mind you. It turns out that, with the departure of Batman, villains like Joker, Two-Face, Penguin, Riddler, Bane, Scarecrow and etc etc etc take this as permission to start a war for absolute domination over the city. The Robins and Red Hood and Nightwing and Black Bat and Spoiler – even Agent A –and Signal and Oracle and the GPD and Commissioner Gordon can't keep up with demand, and even with the help of the League it's difficult because they can lock one of them back in Arkham, but soon another bad guy takes the place. They are desperate. They need Batman.

So they talk to Constantine and Zathana and every other member of the League and beyond, research until they scrape the bottom of the deep web with everything they don't have. Then they make the summoning circuit, place their sacrifices, perform the the chant and BAM! Batman.

Not entirely Batman, not entirely Bruce.

He comes back Other.

And he comes. By all the Ancients, he comes.

[disillusioneddanny]

Howdy Dis!!

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

Omg this is such a hard question lol.

Hmm number one is definitely:

1. You’ll Find A Rainbow

Hurt and on the run after telling his parents the truth, Danny and Jazz go to the only person they can trust to keep them safe from the Fenton's.

Danny's birth mother.

Harley Quinn

It also features Danny/Damian

2. Holding Me Now In Hand

After Tim Drake tells his family about his new insane chemistry teacher, Dick Grayson decides to do some investigation himself.

What he wasn't expecting was to instantly fall in love with the chaotic science teacher.

Danny had managed to make a new life for himself in this new dimension as a science teacher at Gotham Academy. He had a fulfilling life, teaching the kids of Gotham how to survive on the streets and then at night protecting the bats who roamed the streets. Now, to make things even better, he had somehow caught the attention of Dick Grayson. If Danny had to be honest, his life was going pretty great for him.

Now he just needed the other shoe to drop

3. Bask in our Cosmic Insignificance

After Lady Gotham sends a lost and alone King Phantom to check on a little boy Danny Fenton finds himself the new guardian "angel" of a six year old boy.

Tim Drake.

4. Sound of Silence

A religious group rises up in Gotham citing that anyone who joins will be given powers and strength unlike any other. Dick Grayson and his wife, Barbara Gordon go undercover to infiltrate this new group to find out how all these people are suddenly getting meta powers. There they find a young boy being held prisoner by the cult and being drained of his ectoplasm to turn the members of the cult liminal.

Now it's a race against the clock to save the teenager from the cult without being destroyed by a giant group of liminal religious zealots who are convinced that the god is a gift from the heavens to provide them all with everlasting life.

Will they be able to defeat the Church of the Infinite before this boy's life is gone forever? Or will they be too late?

(This one only has one chapter posted but I’ve already written like 5 chapters for it and I’m obsessed)

5. Bones Exposed

After years of being a halfa, Danny's body starts to gain more symptoms from his death, resulting in his human half slowly dying. In a desperate attempt to live the rest of his life in peace, he becomes a hermit, living isolated in Gotham and only leaving his home when his services are needed at Wayne Enterprises. His life isn't what he expected, but it's his and he's accepted it.

That is until Tim Drake gives him a reason to start looking for a way to stop himself from dying all the way. Now Danny is desperate to learn how to deal with his disabilities and stop his body from dying completely. At least he has Tim Drake at his side to help.