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gloomwitchwrites · 7 months ago

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Demon's Thrall

Incubus Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: noncon/dubcon elements, demon!Simon, incubus!Simon, accidental summoning, deal with a demon, descriptions of future sexual acts, power imbalance, master/slave, witch!reader

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Requested by @coffeecaketornado for 3.5k Spooky Bingo (Summon a Demon)

Attempting to return what has been lost, you seek the Void, with the hope that someone will reply. What responds is a creature from hell. They return what you’re asking for but the price for such an ask is your soul.

ao3 // main masterlist // 3.5k spooky bingo masterlist

There is fire in the air. Salt on your tongue.

Power surges through you, heating your blood, and lifting you into the air. Words, old and ancient, drip from your lips. The grimoire in your hands glows, the pages tinged in blood-red. Its cover is leathery, made of human flesh and lined with animal teeth.

You've been searching for years, delving through dimensions to seek a spell that might return what you've lost. The pentagram on the floor radiates yellow light as the candle flames around you go out.

This is your last hope. A final attempt.

Little witch.

The voice is deep, whispering in your ear. It is not one you recognize.

Ignoring the voice, you remain focused on the spell, chanting until the air kicks up and roars in your ears. The pentagram's glow increases, almost blinding in its intensity. There is a heavenly bright quality to the light, and hope swells in your chest, spurring your chanting to a louder crescendo.

Little witch.

A dark form takes shakes within the light. It’s slightly round in shape, like a hunched figure. You are so close. This is what you’ve been waiting for. Everything you’ve lost will be returned.

You will be whole. You will be happy.

The final words fall from your lips, and a sense of completion settles over you. The ritual is done. It is complete. You’ve finally succeeded after years of trial.

The wind dies, the air calming, and your feet return to solid ground. The pentagram’s glow dims, revealing the figure crouched within. Whatever dark shadow obscured them within the light melts away in tendrils of black sludge, revealing…wings.

Leathery, bat-like wings.

They ripple. Shake.

Expand.

As the bat wings unfurl, the first thing you see are stone grey horns. They curl slightly out and back, the sharpened tips pointed upward toward the ceiling. They are connected to a man, his skin flushed a subtle shade of red. His legs and torso are bent, his arms crossed over his knees protectively.

Behind the thick, muscled arms is movement. The man lifts his head, and you’re met with eyes so black they resemble bottomless pits. They are consuming and yet empty, begging you to fall inside and tumble forever without ever knowing the relief of death.

Staring directly at you, he blinks slowly like a contented cat. Some of the darkness bleeds away in his eyes, revealing fiery pupils. A wickedly cruel smile forms, stretching across his face in a way that unsettles you.

The quiet after the ritual is drowned out by his power, the intensity of it slamming into you like a wave. It is immense. Suffocating. You feel no pain. No hatred. It is violent arousal, so pure and unfiltered that your body shudders as if in ecstasy.

Incubus. Demon.

"I did not summon you," you growl, fighting through his demanding presence. It wants to wiggle in, you twist around your heart, to make you orgasm to feed his infernal desire.

"Oh, little witch. You did," he purrs.

With a languid, hypnotic sway, the naked demon before you revealing himself completely, standing tall and proud in the middle of the pentagram.

He is solid muscle—all strength. Broad shoulders give way to a firm chest and abdomen. Scars pepper his skin. They are not haphazard or random. There is a pattern. There is a purpose. The scars on his chest and abdomen spiral downward, circling the base of his erect cock in a mandala-like pattern.

Your gaze lands on the hardened appendage. It is ribbed and pierced on the underside. The base is slightly rounder, the skin a bit loose as if it could swell. His testicles are heavy and large. There are scars there, too.

He is terrifying, yet entirely alluring.

"I didn't call for a sex demon."

The demon smiles, showing his fangs. "You asked for something to be returned to you.” He extends his arms in a placating gesture. “And I have granted it."

Bitter hope blooms in your chest though you know that demons enjoy a good lie. "You grant me nothing."

The demon's smile doesn't fade. "If I could not grant your request, I'd be in your thrall. Trapped within this pentagram. Unable to touch you.”

"You are in my thrall, demon.”

He shakes his head. "No, love. You are in mine."

With a snap of his fingers, a heavy weight seizes your neck. Instinctually, you claw at your throat, dropping the grimoire. Your seeking fingers find solid metal.

A collar. A fucking collar.

“What have you done?” you ask, panic rising in your voice.

The demon does not reply. He lifts his hand, palm upward, and then brings his fist together as if he holds an invisible robe. He tugs that transparent tether and you jerk forward, falling onto your face.

The wooden floor slams into your stomach, pushing all the air from your lungs. The demon tugs again, and you’re dragged across it. Gathering your wits, you flip onto your back, your own hands clawing at the air in front of you to find the invisible chain.

“No!” you screech, finding the connection. “You are contained!”

A sob quickly rises with the panic, threatening to burst forth from your lips as you dig your heels in. Every tug draws you closer and closer to the pentagram.

Glancing over your shoulder, you seek the grimoire where you dropped it. As if sensing your intent, the demon pulls on your chain harder, yanking you back around to face him. With a snarl, you jerk back against the chain to put distance between the two of you.

The demon is stronger, and with a final tug, you’re yanked onto your feet and hauled over the pentagram. You slam into him, but the incubus is a solid wall, and his hard cock pokes at your stomach like a demanding prod. It’s a threat of what’s to come.

You've heard the stories. Incubi love witches. They last longer in hell, and their wombs can carry demon spawn easier than any human. For them, witches are a treasure. Human women are shared. Witches are hoarded. At least this one won't share you with others. He'll keep you for himself. He'll keep you alive and healthy but only for his own ends.

"You asked for revival,” he purrs, breath warm against your skin. “The one you sought dwells in my realm. I granted your request. Now you're mine. Forever."

The incubus snaps his fingers and the grimoire ignites, consumed in flame. With a roar, you lash out with all the power you have.

Nothing swells. Nothing ignites.

You are empty. Hollow.

Your magic does not answer your call.

"What have you done?" you gasp, staring down at your hands before turning your threatening gaze on him.

"It's only silenced," he murmurs. "Not gone."

You pound your fist against his chest but the demon does not falter. It's like hitting a brick wall. You use your other fist, striking out repeatedly but the demon is unfazed.

"Are you done with your tantrum, little witch?” he asks, bored.

"You've made me your slave," you hiss.

The demon's pleased purr only tightens the leash further. "Your words. Not mine."

"You've put a collar around my neck."

"We made a bargain."

"We did no such thing,” you insist.

The demon’s head tilts slightly, amused. “You called out to the Void. You asked for help. Any help. And I granted it. If you didn’t want something to answer, then why do it?”

Because I want everything to be as it was.

You remain silent, jaw tense as you grind your teeth. You will not justify yourself to this monster. Your actions are your own.

“I have nothing to say to you, demon,” you reply slowly.

"Ghost," he corrects with a cocky smile. "That is what you are to call me. Or," he shrugs.

"Master. Since you seem to prefer that."

"You're foul," you mutter.

Ghost's smile is almost mocking, as if you're a petulant ignorant child who knows nothing of the world. "Oh, little witch. You'll change your tune. I guarantee it.”

You lean as far back as you can which isn’t much. Ghost’s hold on your chain is unrelenting. "What is worse than being at the beck and call of a demon?"

Ghost’s head dips intimately as if to kiss you. You jerk back, but wince when the metal of the collar bites into the nape of your neck.

"Any hellspawn might have answered your call,” he whispers gently. “Would you like one of the Grand Dukes? They’re an…interesting bunch. Their harems are vast, but a witch to add to a collection? You’d have them all fighting over you.” Ghost chuckles softly. “Exchanging beds constantly. Satiating their every appetite.”

Your nostrils flare in anger. Jerking on the chain does nothing, and Ghost does not move away from you. He remains close like a lover.

“Or perhaps a Lord of pestilence? Can you imagine yourself in one their laps for all eternity? Constantly sick. Constantly ill. A new disease to test on your flesh whenever they please.” When you don’t reply to his remarks, Ghost continues. “What about a Torturer from one of Nine Circles?”

"You're teasing me,” you growl.

Ghost shakes his head. “I am merely telling you the truth.” He lowers his voice, a menacing promise. “They will take. They will hurt.” His gaze drops to your lips, observing your mouth. His hand upon the chain gives a little tug, and that one little pull almost closes the distance. His thumb traces your chin, the sharpened nail lightly pressing against your bottom lip.

“I am a demon of pleasure,” he purrs. “You’ll spend your waking hours keeping my cock wet and warm. All you’ll know are the orgasms I give you.” Ghost’s head lowers further, lips brushing against your cheek as he continues. “You’ll look beautiful in my lap. Naked. Skin glistening with sweat from hell’s fires. Cunt full of my cock.” The corner of his mouth twitches with amusement. “Promise you’ll enjoy the piercing, little witch.”

“Fuck you,” you mutter.

He sighs. “You think me cruel now. But I promise, little witch, you’ll be begging for me.”

“I don’t beg.”

“For my cock you will.” One muscled arm comes around to your back, blocking escape. “You will resist. You will hate me even. But in time, you will want me. I’m a patient demon. I can wait.”

“Then you’ll wait for all eternity. You are no different from your brothers and sisters”

He exhales, lips tracing against your cheekbone to move to your ear. “I cannot wait to fill your holes. To gift you with my seed. To know what you sound like when you orgasm with my cock inside you.” Deep in his throat comes a rolling groan. “You will want no others.”

“I will never want you,” you whisper, but even your strength is wavering.

Ghost’s grip on your leash tightens until the metal digs into your skin. He draws you in until there is no space between your bodies. His hard cock digs into your abdomen. Through your clothes, you can feel the ribbed shaft. Though you abhor the idea of spreading your legs for this hellspawn, you’re also curious about how he’d feel inside you.

The corner of his mouth quirks in amusement. "Already you lean in my favor."

"You're delusional."

Ghost traces the curve of your ear with his forked tongue. "I can smell your arousal, little witch."

Against your buttocks, Ghost’s tail traces a trail downward. It ventures between your legs. You stiffen as the tip slips between skin and fabric, toying with your entrance. For a moment, you think it might dip inside, but it retreats.

The tip of his tail appears before you. The two of you observe it. It is glossy with your arousal.

In stunned silence, you watch as Ghost licks the slickness off. A pleased groan escapes him. "Beautiful. Tasting you properly will be an honor." The middle of his brow creases slightly, and that wicked smile returns.

"Ready to descend, little witch?”

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belovaballerina · 5 months ago

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I feel her heart beating in me

Wicked: Elphaba Thropp x fem!reader

Rating: Teen

WC: 1.4k

Prompt: “I'm everything she never was. Now everyone's out for my blood” -Anything Like Me by Poppy for @sweetspicybingo (Lyrical Bingo Collection)

Warnings: WLW, blending of book and musical lore, angst, SPOILERS IF YOU’RE NOT FAMILIAR WITH HOW THE MUSICAL ENDS

Summary: You’re on the run with Elphaba, finding a brief respite in Quadling Country

Elphaba’s hand furled tightly around yours, her pointed green nails nipping your skin as she tugged you along. You gasped for air as you focused on running as fast as you could, the Grimmerie tucked tightly under your other arm. There wasn’t any time to waste; Fiyero’s cryptic message arrived only moments ago, providing very little time for escape. The broom slipped between Elphaba’s thighs as you wrapped one arm tightly around her waist as she lifted into the sky. Behind you, the winged monkeys followed, and a few swooped down to attack the guards and keep them off Elphaba’s trail.

You pressed your face into Elphie’s shoulder, trembling as your other arm continued to grip the Grimmerie. “Where will we go?” you whispered.

“I don’t know,” Elphaba answered honestly.

When your wits returned, you suggested, “Quadling Country seems the safest choice. They’ve grown tired of being exploited by the Wizard. Surely, they might aid our cause.”

“Our cause, is it?” Elphaba teased, and even though you couldn’t see it, you knew there was a smirk on her face.

“We are in this together whether you like it or not,” you pointed out.

“I’m glad,” she replied honestly, resting one hand on top of yours as the other gripped the broom handle.

The hill to cross into Quadling Country was steep and rocky, and you felt relief when your feet finally settled on the smooth, red-paved road. Quadling Country mimicked the Emerald City, but everything was bathed in red instead of green. Even the occupants possessed a deep ruddy, and beautiful complexion.

“It is her! The Witch!” a woman screamed, pointing her finger accusingly.

“Hush! She stands against the Wizard, the man who has worked us to the bone and exploited us,” a man responded.

“We welcome you, witch!” a few voices cheered amongst the gathering masses.

“Her name is Elphaba, my good people,” you smiled.

“Miss Elphaba! Miss Elphaba! You are safe here!”

Her hand reached for yours, fingers entwining tightly as a sense of relief washed over you and her. Some of the crowd had taken to handing various fruits to the monkeys, clearly delighted by them, too. You and Elphaba were shown to a rustic farmhouse and given food and shelter. It would suffice for a day or two. You had no idea of how fast the Guard might catch up, and you only hoped this wasn’t a trick. It would be quite irritating to wake up with a knife pressed to your throat. The cup of red mint tea cradled in your hands soothed your nerves.

A fire roared in the hearth, bathing the spacious room in an orange glow. Elphaba removed her hat and stripped off her black robe, leaving her in a simple, dark purple, sleeveless frock.

“Will you help me loosen my braid?” she asked, sitting in front of you.

“Of course,” you smiled, sitting your mug down and moving your fingers through her thick, black tresses to loosen the braid.

“I’m exhausted,” she sighed, leaning back against your chest.

You wrapped your arms around her waist and rested your chin on her shoulder. “Me too. Let us try to get some rest,” you murmured, shifting so the two of you were lying down and facing each other. You gazed into her eyes, noting the hues of jade and olive, with flecks of dazzling seafoam around her inner iris. There were times when they appeared dark, bathed in amber and chestnuts. Elphaba was a peculiar being, unearthly and hauntingly beautiful.

The two of you intertwined, limbs furling until they almost became one. Her lips held a tinge of sweetness that you savored as her long nails pleasantly scraped down your back. Her hands slipped up your tattered shirt, her warmth spreading through you. You gazed into her eyes, noting the hues of jade and olive, with flecks of dazzling seafoam around her inner iris. There were times when they appeared dark, bathed in amber and chestnuts. Elphaba was a peculiar being, unearthly and hauntingly beautiful. It was hard not to fall under her spell.

Your forehead rested against her, allowing your eyes to close as you held Elphaba. It would be a new day tomorrow, and still, you were by her side. It was a small thing that you were beyond grateful for, and cherished the nights spent in her arms. You detested how she had been painted the villain and sought to spread the truth of the deceiving Wizard. If the Quadlings learned the truth, it would spread throughout the Land of Oz.

A few days passed, and Quadling Country continued to provide a safe haven. While the inhabitants were impressed by Elphaba’s sorcery and entertained by the winged monkeys, especially with Chistery’s attempts to speak, you made yourself valuable with other skills. Though Elphaba had taught you little spells, the townfolk enjoyed your trick of making a daisy rise from the pavement cracks or when you could summon a kaleidoscope of butterflies. It was fun to watch the monkeys fly after the multicolored insects. Apart from those limited feats, you were a gifted cook and a whiz with a needle and thread.

By the end of the week, it was time for you and Elphaba to move on, even though you had grown to love the Quadlings.

“We will spread your truth, Miss Elphaba.” You watched her face glow happily as she held the woman’s hands.

“I have a gift for you, Miss, since you cannot fly,” a young male smiled. He brought forth a beautiful dark black horse, its fur the same color as Elphaba’s rich raven hair.

Your eyes brimmed with tears of gratitude. “This is very kind of you.” You warmly hugged him, waving and calling out heartfelt goodbyes before departing with Elphaba and the monkeys.

Happiness was fleeting, was it not? Tears streamed down your face as Elphaba cradled it tenderly in her hands, her thumbs swiping away your tears.

“I will always love you,” she whispered before her lips captured yours in a deep kiss.

“Your name will forever be on my heart. Please be happy, my love,” you sniffled, holding her close.

The trap was set. The ruse worked, and all of Oz believed the Wicked Witch was dead when, in fact, she had fled with Fiyero by her side. You couldn’t begrudge him; love was an odd thing, and what you shared with Elphaba would never be forgotten or tarnished. You kept a lock of her ebony hair pinned to the inside of your dress; her scent lingered behind on your nose, and the warmth of her lips burned your own. Her hat had been left behind, a cherished possession you would never relinquish.

“She’s dead?” Glinda asked, her voice cracking as her shoes clipped against the castle floor.

You whirled around to face her. “I suppose you won.” It was imperative to keep this a secret, even from Glinda, even while knowing Elphaba had disappeared safely. Keep them safe; may their bones never break, and may they never die.

Her jaw dropped. “I was her friend! I was your friend! And that is all you can say to me?” Fury laced her lilting voice.

“You betrayed her! Made her the enemy to serve your own ambitions,” you snapped, fists balling at your side.

“And I regret that.” Truth strained in the word.

“Then help me make it right. Help me continue her legacy; what she wished to achieve can still be done,” you pleaded.

She swallowed hard, gripping the Grimmerie tightly.

“That’s what I thought.”

You stormed past her, stopping when she grabbed your shoulder.

“This is yours now. Protect it, and I wish you all the luck, my friend,” Glinda whispered, pressing the Grimmerie into your hands when you turned to face her.

You softened, glancing into her warm, doe eyes, and felt your anger melt away. “Thank you, my friend.”

Her lips were butterfly-soft against your cheek.

You tucked the Grimmerie safely into your leather bag and then mounted your horse, Zixi. You settled Elphaba’s hat on top of your head, your cape billowing behind you as Zixi galloped away. You cast your gaze to the sky while keeping a tight grip on the reins.

So if you care to find me, look to the western sky.

Your heart thrummed in your chest as you rode toward the west with newfound hope pulsing through your chest and a kaleidoscope of colorful butterflies leading the way.

“I will never forget you, Elphaba Thropp,” you whispered, disappearing into the forest with a promise to fulfill.

#fics: wicked #sweetspicylyrics #elphaba x reader #elphaba fanfic #elphaba imagine #wicked fanfiction #elphaba thropp x reader #wicked elphaba #elphaba thropp #wicked imagine

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chocourse · 9 months ago

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 (𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓈𝓃𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈 𝒹𝑜)

➶ poly! ineffable husbands x angel! fem!reader ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ The Egyptians built one of the seven wonders of the world, the Greeks discovered philosophy, but make-up was invented by a desperate angel during the construction of the Tower of Babel, when people spoke the same language and wanted to settle in a city after the great flood. That angel was you. And you really needed the make-up when the first bite happened.

➴ genre: fluff, polyamory, falling in love

: ̗̀➛ warnings: references to christian religion & lore, fashion and make-up lore, love bites/hickeys, mentions of snake poison, corruption i think

⌨ :: 2.2K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ special thanks to @honeytwo for helping me translate this into english, correcting my grammar and other mistakes. thank you for everything! °♡̷•.

⁀➷ a/n: Hi, dears! I am happy that I took the time to publish this story here after Ao3. I wrote it in January when I watched Good Omens and was looking for comfort after bawling my eyes out. Alright, that's all I wanted to say. Go and enjoy your unique history with the ineffable husbands! <3

➳ good omens masterlist

A FAIRLY LONG TIME AGO

As much as possible, you wanted to blend in with the people. You were too attracted by their nature to spend the rest of your time until Armageddon up there, among snow-white washed columns, in empty halls where nothing really interesting happens. You can deliver the reports even if you’re living on Earth and watching the humans work, you reassured yourself.

You've enjoyed watching the mortals ant-like, feverishly at work, creating wonders like the Tower of Babel.

“Upon my word, what a masterly job,” said Aziraphale, when the tower was already very high.

Aziraphale agreed with you about your intentions on earth, and you used to talk about the exciting things people can do and how exciting it will be to learn about their work and future generations.

When you were particularly engrossed in reciting your predictions, and explaining them to each other with sparkling eyes, Crowley would just roll his eyes and do it with relish, as if it was his natural reaction to your enthusiasm. He decided he'd rather be with the two of you instead of in the company of damned souls and stake-ridden demons when there was no one to tempt and lead into sin. It wasn't boring at all, especially with the fairs they held back then, the intoxicating people, the musical instruments, the delicious food.

His favorite events were the celebrations. When the men working on the tower would take a break from work and gather in town to drink and sing. They fanned his fire, his desire to do something underhanded. Not evil, just something genuinely bad. Like what he did to the apples and Eve at the tree.

He thought deeply about the ways in which he could make others sin. That's when he heard you laugh. You were amazed at what Aziraphale had said. You sipped flushedly into your alcohol jar. You weren't wearing your halo or spreading your wings, but you looked just like an angel. Beautiful, ethereal, uncorrupted, even when you were indulging in human pleasures and getting drunk at an easy pace.

Bingo.

Crowley smiled, his eyes gleaming under his black sunglasses. He headed towards you.

“Did you try everything?” he asked.

“The dates are heavenly ,” Aziraphale agreed, putting another piece in his mouth. “You must try one, Crowley.”

“I will,” the demon promised. “Later. But first, I'm going to taste something that's inviting to my imagination…”

His fingers brushed over your shoulder. His fingertips touched your sensitive skin, then...

“Ow !" you squeaked in surprise as he sank his canines into the exposed skin of your neck.

When an angel wants to fit in with humans, she can't walk around with a snake-bitten neck like she's fine. So you tried to use a miracle to make it disappear, but as it turns out, miracles don't work on demonic bites, which is kind of unfair, but part of the Incomprehensible Plan, so you had to resort to some other method, without blaming the Almighty for creating the demon bite the way it is.

You used paint to cover it up. It was the first make-up experiment in history. Cleopatra will use your method in dark red, but it will be a long time before then, your injury will heal and heal many times over.

In any case, Crowley grinned as he watched you walk around for weeks, neck covered in paint. He was very pleased with himself, and you often caught him looking at you with his yellow snake eyes, grinning like he was planning to do it again.

When God confused the tongues of men, you were grateful to Him.

Now, you could send the demon to Hell in countless languages.

IN THE 16TH CENTURY

Garbo.

Garbos everywhere.

Lace, frills, colours, fancy fabrics. You were very fond of the English Renaissance under Queen Elizabeth I. Mainly because of the full turtlenecks, which usually covered your neck magnificently. You could even forgive the low-cut dresses and corsets - although when silk scarves came along, looking back, the wide turtlenecks you once wore would have looked like clown costumes.

It was further satisfying to know that Crowley hated rules by default, let alone about fashion. He really despised the Sumptuary Laws, and cursed that he hadn't invented them, because they were truly demonic. In contrast, Aziraphale, who always put a lot of effort into his appearance, was fine with the expected attire, and always looked elegant with a pleasant smile.

Sometimes, though, his smile faltered when his turtleneck grazed the bite marks on his neck. You stroked his upper arm sympathetically at such times, and yet: neither of you told Crowley to stop what he was doing on your necks.

You had no problem with early medieval times. The tight, plain dresses were simple and, importantly, the neck was not visible, only the back of the hands and the face, and after marriage, the hair - not that you married, it was just the fashion among married women. On the other hand, the pale ideal of the early Middle Ages, when women had blood drained to make them white as doves, was disappointing. Then came arsenical powders, the cause of many women's deaths. At the time, you were ashamed of inventing make-up, and so women wanted to tamper with their natural beauty with all sorts of talc fads. You have to suffer to be beautiful, they said, and they didn't realize that there was no need for any suffering because they were beautiful from creation.

Your determination was only further strengthened when it was discovered that Elizabeth I died of blood poisoning from using white lead on her face. And you thought the sixteenth century would bring radical changes…

Actually, there has been a radical change, but not in make-up.

Crowley invented the suction mark, which didn't swell up like a snake venom-infused wound and came in a variety of colours depending on how much time Crowley put into creating them. They made him feel like an artist, so he liked to tinker with them. He'd been paying devoted attention to your necks for a very long time, so you're actually used to it, it's become a tradition.

In fact, you both kind of loved it.

IN THE 19TH CENTURY

The rice powder is made from natural ingredients. We're finally back here, you peacefully acknowledged at every social gathering. Usually you only powdered the back of your neck, but richly. The fashions of the 1800s called for ruffles, corsets, a relatively modest neckline, no turtlenecks or neck-covering. But a thorough, ornate make-up look was something every self-respecting woman had to create, and because you only covered your neck, you were often the victim of gossip.

When Aziraphale opened his bookshop and held a small gathering to celebrate with champagne, snacks and a ball, the ladies whispered a great deal about you, hiding behind their fans. They sized up your clothes, your make-up, yourself. They guessed how much of a goer you must be. It made them angry that even though you don't wear normal makeup, men still seek your company because you're witty and good, not jealous like them.

Crowley was annoyed by the women who belittled you, the men who complimented you, the fact that you had been hiding the fact that you were his for centuries. Just like Aziraphale, only he didn't seem as desperate as you to cover his marks. Although his top hat usually shaded them well, where it was appropriate to remove the headgear, nothing covered them.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley more and more often as if he knew perfectly well what the marks meant, just as he knew that Crowley was a cruel, unrelenting demon and would not say it.

When Crowley asked you to stop covering your neck, he was actually saying it. With his eyes shining mysteriously in the moonlight through the window, when Crowley took off his glasses and all the guests had gone, leaving only the three of you and the empty glasses and the crumbs.

Tenderness and love. This is what his words would have tasted like if you had eaten them.

It was the same way Aziraphale looked at you when you caught him gazing at you, silent and dreamy, or when you simply spoke to him enthusiastically about something that interested and excited you as people once did when the Tower of Babel was raised, and he listened patiently, as if he had nothing better to do.

When you said all right to Crowley with a smile, that meant you loved him, too.

Them, too.

NOWADAYS

“Um, are you–” Gabriel furrows his eyebrows and tries to decipher you with a polite smile. “What is this?”

You're wearing the purest white, as befits a visit to Heaven. Obviously Gabriel would not object to that. He wears mostly white, with a faint hint of blue. What he can't make out is the fluffy white scarf wrapped tightly around your neck, right up to your nose. You stand before him like a polar bear with a neck brace. Or an almost completely covered, ethereal mummy.

Or maybe a spool of toilet paper.

You pull the material slightly in front of your mouth to answer.

“I'm cold,” you report with a blush.

“It must be exciting.” Gabriel admits that you've probably spent too much time on Earth, among humans, and its somewhat dulled your angelic senses. He clears his throat. “Well, we can get down to business then, let's not waste each other's precious time.”

You nod. He is absolutely right.

In the empty, snow-white-plastered heavenly hall, a table, a folder and a pen with wings - not a bijou, strictly used for official signatures - appear. Sighing, you take a comfortable seat, and as you take the pen, you give thanks that now women can wear comfortable and practical pants too.

And, you add with even deeper satisfaction, great scarves.

...

Ignoring the closed sign, you rip open the door and burst into the bookshop.

“Sorry, but we’re closed– Oh, it's you.” Aziraphale smiles a greeting, then notices the upset on your face. “What happened, darling?”

“It was embarrassing to show myself like this in front of Gabriel,” you reply as you begin to unravel the fuzzy covering around your neck.

Aziraphale pats your upper arm piteously, presses a kiss to your temple and promises to bring you a mug of hot chocolate to help you relax.

Long time ago you promised Crowley you wouldn't cover his marks, but when you meet your angelic bosses, it's a different story. If they find out what's between you and him, they'll make hell in heaven. That doesn't impress Crowley, especially not today. Before you left, he had so covered your neck with his special love marks that a simple scarf wouldn't have been enough to cover it. Especially since he's recently returned to biting.

You'll find him on the sofa at the back of the shop. He's got a real proud smile that makes you want to throw a scarf at him. You throw the scarf at him. He catches it easily.

"You little..." you grit your teeth.

“Idiot? Shit? Asshole? The lowest of demons? Bitter of your eternal life?” He's playing with the scarf. He doesn't look up, doesn't admire the colorful patchwork he's created on your neck. Even better. If he would do it, throwing a scarf at him would not be enough.

"Lovely sweet creature," you say in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Bleh.” Crowley scowls. “That's a thousand times worse than you swearing.”

“I know. That's why I do it.” You sit down in the armchair furthest away from him and continue to stare at him harshly.

He sighs.

“My love, you're too beautiful with my marks on your neck. I cannot help it. And every man should know those are mine. Even the angels up there.”

Except Aziraphale. He already knows full well that if the blobs on your skin were to be exhibited as paintings, the artist's name would clearly be Crowley.

And you know what these marks are called these days, and that makes you happy. You ask, a little more lightly, if he knows. Crowley shakes his head.

“Love bites,” you tell him.

“It's only natural that they call it that. I invented it, and for thousands of years you and Aziraphale have been the only ones to get it. What else could it be?” Crowley gets up, comes over to you and squats down in front of you, taking your hand in his. He’s not wearing his sunglasses. His eyes are vivid, the sky glowing yellow behind the black sliver of the moon. "It's not something I give as punishment or temptation. It is exactly what it is called. Humans are smart enough to give it such a good name.”

“Well, well, you're praising the humans.” Aziraphale arrives balancing a tray on the low coffee table next to his open book and a stack of newspapers.

“Have you heard what my creations are called?”

“I don’t think so.”

The demon tells him. The angel blushes and starts passing out mugs. Crowley admires him, then turns to you.

“Will you sit with me?”

Luckily for him, you're not overly resentful. You nod, and you’d be lying if you said you weren't warmed by the sight of his smile and his hand reaching out for yours. You end up on the soft couch, his arm around your shoulders, your hot chocolate in your hand.

And love bites on your neck.

#good omens x reader #ineffable husbands x reader #poly ineffable husbands #aziraphale x crowley x reader #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #good omens fanfiction #good omens #good omens fluff #ineffable husbands #cross posted on ao3 #polyamory #x female reader #x fem!reader #x female y/n

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whisperingmidnights · 6 months ago

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Heyyy☺️ well if it's still possible to request for the bingo... could I request Helion x Reader x Azriel with public sex, please

Anything for youuuu!

CW: D/s dynamics, oral (m!receiving), orgy (not described in detail)

Scarred fingers tug at the golden collar around my neck. I hum, settling back against my lover's broad, warm chest, sipping the wine from his cup since mine ran dry a while ago. I should've known he wouldn't drink at an event like this, my keen-eyed shadowsinger preferring to keep his mind just as sharp when it's not just us tucked away in the palace.

And tonight's crowd is sizeable, to say the least.

My eyes drift, as they always do, over the writhing bodies to Helion at the heart of it all: shining like the sun with a lovely faun straddling his lap. The antlers rising from her dark curls are strung with little golden faelights, and the freckles splattered across her bare back match the sweet little white speckles on her furred legs. She's a beautiful female, a favorite of his, and they're always such a joy to watch together.

But tonight, I feel a little more possessive, like something vicious and feral has seized my heart. The wine helps to dull the feelings swirling in my breast, but it doesn't erase them. Not completely.

"You truly don't mind?" Azriel asks, trailing those lovely fingers along my spine as he nips the tip of my ear. I tilt my head curiously, and he wastes no time sprinkling light, teasing kisses along the line of my neck as he grabs my hips, tugging me more fully against him. Here in our shadowed alcove overlooking the party, no one's paying us any mind.

I wouldn't mind if they did, though. This time, at least. I wouldn't mind showing him off.

"I certainly don't mind this," I giggle, tangling my fingers with his as the shadows whisk my cup away.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"What do you mean, Azriel?" Hazel eyes flicker with uncertainty as they meet mine, and I lean up to brush my lips lightly against his. "Clearly I don't mind sharing, not with you."

"With her?"

"I haven't minded in the past." All true. And I might not mind now if we hadn't started this...thing with Azriel. Those strong, rough hands turn me in his lap until we're face to face, and I rest my hands on his broad, sun-kissed shoulders. Veins of copper snake between the flecks of green in his hazel eyes, reminding me of the ancient pine trees and snowcapped mountains he tells me about on the nights when the fire burns low in our chambers and sleep has yet to find us.

If I ask kindly enough, I wonder if his High Lord would allow him to take me. Just once. I'd like to see it, all of it, to know him better...if he would allow it.

There are still so many parts of Azriel I cannot touch. How unfair it is that he should be able to see all of me and keep so much of himself tucked away.

"And now?" A ghost of a smile plays at his lips at my disgruntled hum. "You're too tense to be enjoying yourself, my jewel."

"I am, it's just...I think I'm feeling a little sensitive. A little possessive. Like I want to claim what's mine." Light dances in his eyes once more, and Azriel leans his head back to watch me as I straddle his thighs. "But I'm aware that I...I might not have a right to. Not really." Not as far as he's concerned. Everyone knows where Helion and I stand, where the boundaries of our relationship lay.

If I'm honest with myself, Helion's truly not the issue tonight. But this isn't a subject I know how to broach.

My fingers trail over his tattoos, beautiful swirling lines of black ink that never seem to dull against Azriel's skin, following them down to the golden chain connecting the piercings decorating his chest.

I wonder if he wears gold when he's away from us, too. If he keeps that reminder of warmth in those cold, distant mountains of the north. If he thinks of us at all.

His wings rustle as his fingers catch my chin, bringing my gaze back to his. I chew at my lower lip until his thumb tugs it free, running over the plush, bitten flesh until it sneaks between my teeth instead. I swirl my tongue over its tip just to watch that slow, calculating smirk spread across his handsome face.

He really is too good looking.

"You've been doing a lot of thinking, haven't you?" He nods when I do, tapping the tip of his finger lightly against my tongue until my lips part for him. "Too much, perhaps."

Shadows swirl over my skin, cool and sweet as their master. I think he likes the look of them on me. They slip beneath the sheer fabric of my gown, and his eyes follow them down, down, down to where the fabric bunches around my thighs. My breath catches in my throat as they slide over the most sensitive parts of me, touching and teasing as his fingers slide between my lips.

"You're so lovely." The whispered praise settles over me as the din of the party grows muffled, like it's all slipping away. In our shadowed corner of this gilded hall, he is the brightest thing I see. I can feel his body stirring in response to mine, the hand squeezing my hip tugs me forward, urging me to move.

So I do.

Planting my hand on the muscled plane of his abdomen, I shift my hips until I find a rhythm that makes his breath hitch. Azriel's smoldering hazel eyes grow heavy-lidded as he watches me, and I finally allow mine to close as I focus on how incredible the hot, hard length of him feels beneath me. He moans appreciatively, his grip tightening on my hip, and suck hard at the fingers in my mouth just to hear more of those lovely noises.

Between the stimulation from his shadows and the feeling of him beneath me, completely at my mercy, I think I could spend forever like this. Gods, I want to.

Another pair of hands, warm and familiar, brush over my bare shoulders as Helion's mouth closes over the pulse in my neck. I gasp has he sucks hard enough to leave a mark, and my dress vanishes in a whisper of raw power...along with Azriel's pants. When Helion decides he wants something, he usually takes it. I open my eyes when I feel him reach between Azriel and I to drag the tip of the shadowsinger's cock along my sex. The Illyrian beneath me watches with a hazy, feline smile as he trails his damp fingers from my mouth along the center of my body, marking me. Claiming me.

"You might be content to hide here in the shadows, my loves," Helion whispers against my temple, "but not from me. Let me watch you."

"We're not hiding," I gasp as slick fingers swirl around my clit, "are we, Azriel?"

"I'd argue we've attracted quite the crowd- fuck," our lover hisses as Helion's thumb slides over his tip, swirling our arousal along the flushed, sensitive skin.

"Well, if you're not hiding, sweetheart, would you be willing to entertain us further?"

"Sir?" I ask sweetly, fluttering my lashes as I look up at him, and he gives me a regal smile as he settles on the lounge at our lover's side.

"Get on your knees," he commands, giving Azriel's cock an appreciative squeeze. Our lover's strangled whimper has me scrambling off of his lap onto the plush rug beneath us. Lowering my lips to the tip of his cock, I whine as Azriel's shadows slip inside of me, stretching me. Preparing me. Helion's hand tangles in my hair, gently guiding my movements, urging my head lower. It feels good to give him control, to allow him to use me like this. To not have to think.

"Good girl," the High Lord murmurs. "Let us see you. Let everyone see you."

#talk to me #ask game #kinkvember bingo #azriel x reader #azriel x reader x helion #helion x reader #helion x reader x azriel

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watching-spn · 2 days ago

Text

spn s6 bingo card update!

okay so i made this bingo card before starting s6 and now i wanna take a moment to talk about it after finishing the season. for some of them i'm not totally sure whether i can cross them out or not, but yeah, let's try:

"dean wanting to bring sam back from hell" -> yeah, dean admits to have tried to bring sam back in that one year between 5x22 and 6x01, because he didn't know sam was already back. and after he finds out that sam's soul is still in the cage, he does everything in his power to get it back

"michael isn't dead and he's very pissed off" -> yeah idk, i guess this one's also true because he's just in the cage, so not dead (as i understand it, angels are only dead when they're actually gone? like, neither in heaven nor hell or whatever else, so i'd say he's still alive, just not free). and i think you could say he's pissed off, considering the damage he did to sam's soul in there

"dean and cas hug" -> well, no. we were robbed.

"chuck is either god or in danger" -> yeah lmao no chuck in the entire season, guess he's just useless now that the whole prophet-thing is kinda outdated with the free will/no apocalypse thing, so maybe he just vanished because his purpose is gone? idk, kinda wanted to know why the fuck he just disappeared into thin air but okay thanks (i mean there are still more seasons, so maybe he'll come back. not counting on it though)

"bobby being absolutely done with the boys but helping anyway" -> lmao always, we even got a whole episode of this

"time travel" -> yup! the whole titanic thing of course, but i'd say the most prominent time travel ep was the one where they visited samuel colt

"dean gets slammed against a wall" -> i mean, he's been beaten up and probably been smashed against walls often enough, but i only count the ones that have at least a bit of homoerotic tension, so sadly none in this season as far as i recall

"bloody cas" -> oh yes. 6x19 where the jefferson starship attacks cas and dean just cuts its head off from behind and splashes cas with blood. yeah

"dean dies again" -> yeah (6x11 when he wants to talk to death). when doesn't he?? i think that's the only thing one can be sure of when watching this show

"sam at the very end of 5x22 was actually lucifer" -> ok no

"dean praying to cas" -> yeah like all the time. but somehow i want it to be more intimite (?), yk as in him being alone and sincere about it and not just "hey castiel... could you come down for a sec?", i want him on his KNEES

"sam fucking a monster" -> surprisingly not. cas does kiss a demon though

"really powerful cas" -> oh i cooked with this one. wasn't thinking about god level power but damn yeah

"dean crying" -> i think so? i think he cried when lisa almost died. i could be wrong though

"adam is dead" -> since he's not alive, i guess he's dead, yeah. not saying he can't also come back, but yeah, dead at the moment

"god dies" -> still don't even know who/where he is, soooo no

"sam having trauma" -> not at first, but the second the wall to his memory of hell breaks down this boy is nothing but a big ball of trauma

"dean and lisa break up" -> yeah, i was pretty sure he would lose her and ben somehow :(

"archangels being assholes (raphael??)" -> ha i called it! i figured since michael and lucifer are in the cage the next one who was gonna fuck up their lives would be him

"hell flashbacks" (not flackbacks lmao, sorry for the typo) -> mostly just sam on fire but yeah

"cinematic showing of cas' wings" -> yesss 6x15!!! love it

"lisa dies" -> almost, but fortunately we have cas and his healing powers!!

"crowley kissing more guys" -> i'm certain he did, but we didn't get to see it :(

"more intense destiel eye sex" -> in my opinion jensen and misha can't do a scene together without their characters doing that. so yeah. it was there

so in conclusion: bingo!(?)

this was actually fun so maybe i'll do this again for another season!

#no spoilers for after s6 please i only just started s7 #spn #watching supernatural #spn watch updates #supernatural #spn watch #castiel #dean winchester #destiel #sam winchester #bobby singer #crowley spn #supernatural season 6 #spn s6 #spn season 6 #bingo card #spn bingo card

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alien-of-earth · 23 days ago

Text

Wrote down my thoughts while watching DR S3

Ep 1

* I really thought they were gonna bring up the Oni again at the start…. sigh…

* Thunder fang looking kinda weird… like dawg idk if you are a dragon. Wings are sick af tho

* Thunder fang really got beat by the arch-dragon of locking tf in

* Ooh remix and SICK ASS OPENING

* NOOOOO NOT ARINS PICTURE ON THE PIE CART AUGHHHHH

* Girl not Sora already mourning Arin 😭

* Lobbo is dead. Death by pie.

* Awww Jayaaaa, she’s daydreaming

* Siblings are fightinnggggg, I love annoyed Nya

* “Greatest hits of evil warriors” Lloyd what 😭 they’re not artists dropping the next sick ass album

* Cole just say you want to be with Geo

* ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF COLE BEING A GHOST IN 2025? HELL YES

* Oh Frak bless you heart, you’ve got a lot of unlearning to do

* Stop Frak is just like Arin 😭

* YEAH THATS WHAT I JUST SAID LLOYD

* YES SORA AND FRAK BONDING AWWW

* They actually have such a funny dynamic lol

* No way Zane wouldn’t teach Sora to bake, this is character assassination

* SORA AND FRAK ROMANCE??? (Boy she’s a whole lesbian)

* Not this fuckass rock insulting Vincent Tong’s voice, I WILL THROW HANDS

* I’m gonna be so fr, I’m sick and tired of this ugly ass puppet

* Wyldfyre’s disguises are something else 😭

* Why do so many ninjago species have an affinity for throwing rocks

* Frak being a conspiracy theorist was not on my bingo list

* Also, so is Cole just gone? WHERE IS HE??? TELL ME HE’LL BE INVOLVED WITH THE PLOT PLEASE

* Giant evil puppet controlled by gay sword. Got it.

* LMAOOOO WYLDFYRE NOT AGREEING TO “LOVING JAY” ahdiajdhakdbsk

* I gotta agree with Kai on this one, Nya. Jay is many things, but the heart of the team? Idk

* Awww ok the rocks are actually cute

* Nya really said “when diplomacy fails, start waterboarding everyone”.

* To be honest I thought Nya might leave Kai behind. Wyldfyre, maybe not, but Kai, maybe.

* Why is Zarkt kinda……..

* Kur is ugly af, pick up a toothbrush already mf

Ep 2

* Noooo Ras is isolating Arin

* Aw Arin’s still such a sweetheart awww

* This is gonna go bad

* New theme goes so hard

* Oh Arin is going to kill that doll

* LMAOOOO ARIN FEEDING RAS LIKE A CHILD

* Ok grandpa let the boy eat

* DO NOT HIT THE CHILD, RAS WHEN I CATCH YOU RAS

* Arin sweetie anger is not sustainable

* CAREFUL IS NOT YOUR MIDDLE NAME ZANE, YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY ZERO SELF PRESERVATION SKILLS

* Sora being salty is kinda funny

* Wyldfyre sending “selfies” and Kai photobombing is the funniest shit I love them

* Wyldfyre immediately siding with Kai is gold fr

* “Sorry for not being a fish” lmaoooo

* NEW NINJAGO SPECIES DROPPED OOHHHH

* ONI MENTION!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

* Oh we are definitely seeing an Oni in this season

* “Old ladies know everything” TRUEEEE, Gladys and Linda always be snooping 🔥

* C Y C L O P S. 🙂‍↕️

* Sora used: Emasculate. It was very effective!

* “Serpent-splain” SORA WHAT 😭

* Ras is such a whiny baby in this 😭

Ep 3

* “I see mental conflict in you” ok furry I see physical conflict in you. Who’s the one needing to be carried around by a teenager, huh?

* Hearing Kai say “speedrunning” was so crazy wtf

* Kai knowing exactly how to lure Jay in? Alright plasma fans are getting fed well this season

* Not Kai implying video games are the at the core of Jay’s being 😭

* Wyldfyre: Video games are boring

* Kai: 😨 (<- Currently considering putting her up for adoption)

* Ras is the definition of a pathetic little meow meow in this season

* LOBBO GOT THE DRIPPPP 🔥

* LOBBO LORE??? LOBBO’S MOM HATED HIM???? 😭😭

* Lobbo that hat is a whole fire hazard

* EW KAI STOP CARESSING THE VIDEO GAME

* Wyldfyre discovering fun video games is so wholesome actually

* MORRO???? *distant crowds of fans screaming*

* Morro helping Arin? Yooooooooooo

* Ok that creature design is super super cool

* Oh no Wyldfyre’s hooked and Kai’s locked in, rip Nya.

* The cut from Nya smiling with Jay and Kai to both Kai and Nya looks defeated…. Ow

* Morro’s growth being shown here is actually very bittersweet

* NO WAY NINJAGO ACTUALLY HAVING SOMETHING COMPLEX WITH SOULS AFTER THEY DIE

* AND MORRO PROTECTING LOST SOULS

* W WRITING

* Morro not moving on…. Hhhhhhhh

* lol I love how Kai knows exactly what Jay’s playing style is

* The wind blowing after Arin calls Morro noble… wow. I was concerned about them shoehorning Morro in for fan service, and while I still think his return wasn’t exactly needed, I think they handled his character really well.

* “I’m not leaving you” Morro probably needed to hear that

* Called it, Wu isn’t dead

* Arin seeing Morro as a hero…. damn…….

* Why did they give Drix such juicy lips

* WHY IS THUNDERFANG KINDAAAAA

Ep 4

* “White, blue and pink is where it’s at” I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE SORA 🏳️‍⚧️

* RAPTON WENT WOKE???!!?!

* ICE CREAM NINJA LMAOOOOO

* ZANE SAID THE LINE! HE SAID THE LIIIIINE!!! (It cannot be!)

* Gay toaster sighting!!!

* Who tf is putting all these Nindroids in metal cocoons

* PIXAL! THE QUEEN HAS RETURNED!

* Money first 💅💵 ok Jay getting that bank

* AHHHHH ZANE MIMICKING THEIR VOICES THAT IS HORRIFYING

* Rapton is a theater kid confirmed lmaoo

* COOL MASK PIXAL (wish it had some color tho)

* Oh PIXAL the girlboss that you are

* GIRL THIS IS SO COMICAL STOP GIVING ZANE NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCES

* Love how the Forbidden Five are just doing a fetch quest on their own time

Ep 5

* Hey Roby how’re you doing buddy

* Awwww Roby’s little dragon messenger is called Hermes awwww

* Geo’s got a gig with Roby!!! Cute!

* Oh they’re definitely gonna kidnap Geo to fix that blade

* Well rip Roby it’s been good knowing ya

* WHAT THE FUCK IS A SHINY NEW MECH DOING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DESERT???

* Honestly Rapton’s commercial was sick af, I might be convinced

* So many subplots and WHERE IS COLE

* Kai being so ready to beat up Roby if he broke Wyldfyre’s heart 😭 big brother behavior fr

* “Take me to Roby town” aw Wyldfyre

* Oop I forgot Sora hasn’t learned spinjutsu

* Yo it’s so cool to see Riyu fight!

* Sora said “glow up” 💀

* ILY PIXAL BEAT HIS ASS

* Zaneus Prime

* HOLY SHIT, AIN’T NO WAY ARINS PARENTS DIED

* Ohhh wait nvm Ras is probs gaslighting him

* Still the visual of Ras talking to Arin from in between his parents’ graves goes crazy

Ep 6

* ZEATRIX PUTTING A HIT ON RAS IS KINDA FUNNY LOLLL

* Awww Arrakore or however you spell his name rebuilding Djinnjago by being the anti-Nadakhan

* DARETTHHHHH

* The Dareth theme is back lolll

* The setting is actually so pretty

* LMAOOOO ARRAKORE W, CLASSIC DJINN TRICK

* Damnnnn Nya was going for Rox’s throat, respect

* LET SORA HAVE KITTENS NYA

* Lollll, Sora and Riyu crushing Lloyd and Nya landing on Kai’s head

Ep 7

* SAMURAI MOMENT SAMURAI MOMENT

* “I got swole for buffness” ZANE RESPECTFULLY. STOP TALKING.

* Is it just me or are PIXAL’s eyes huge

* I actually love how Arin’s staying kind and virtuous despite Ras’s influence

* JAY IS DROPPING BOMBS????

* Ras really loves his child endangerment huh

* WHY IS A BABY THE QUEEN

* WHO LET WYLDFYRE OPERATE A VEHICLE

* AINT NO WAY LORD RAS DECAPITATED THE FIRST SPINJUTSU MASTER, BEYOND SACRILEGIOUS MY GUY

* Arin fighting Riyu’s family… man……

* Wyldfyre angst nooooo

* “For some illnesses, there’s simply no cure” OUCHHHHH

* THE NINJA DO NOT THINK YOU’RE A VILLAIN, ARIN

Ep 8

* Aww baby Sora 🥺

* Reverse snake whisperer is a horrifying concept

* Ras Lloyd custody battle real

* “Of course the ninjas masks are flame resistant, they have to be with Kai around” lmaooo Kai being a walking fire hazard is confirmed

* NOT THE WAY RAS GOT SNATCHED UP LIKE A TINY DOG GETTING GRABBED BY A HAWK 💀

* WHY ARE SOME OF THE PEOPLE IN THE CROSSROADS SO MEAN TO BABY SORA

* NOOOO THE NETHER SKELETONS ARE SENDING CHILDREN TO THE MINES

* Arin and Sora’s friendship is genuinely so sweet

* HOW MANY TIMES IS RAS GOING TO NEED TO BE SAVED

* The lightning bolt knives are pretty cool

* Sora fucking kills Jay

* Stronger together 😢

* The hug……

Ep 9

* Thunderfang will rise? And he’s a dragon? Dragons risi- *gets shot*

* We love communication please work things out guys

* LOLLLL KAI CANONICALLY CRASHED ONE OF JAY AND NYAS DATES LOL

* Ok it’s episode nine WHERE IS COLE

* Stop, Sora holding onto one of Zane’s claw-finger-things is so cute

* YES SORA UNDO THE BRAINWASHING

* Nokt is a petty bitch, lowkey respect it

* Top 10 anime betrayals

Ep 10

* COLE THERE YOU ARE

* PUT A PIN IN YOUR HONEYMOON OR WHATEVER HELP KILL THE GIANT DRAGON

* Aw Frak and Arin getting along :>

* ARIN LET THE CAT DIE HE HASNT DONE SHIT FOR YOU

* YEAHHHH RGB SIBLINGS COMBO LETS GOOOO

* NO THUNDERFANG STOP TRYING TO VORE LLOYD

* Cole and Geo protecting the family, aww

* Wait what is Jay doing here

* “Random mercenary” Nya that is your husband

* Noooo Wyldfyre stop getting hurt

* Kai punching Thunderfang in the eye was so comical

* JAY PUNS ARE BACK!!????

* WAIT WHAT

* LLOYD

* LLOYD WTF

* Wait Arin

* Arin what are you trying to do buddy

* Arin they’re playing the “I’m going to sacrifice myself” music don’t do it

* NOW THE FLASHBACKS

* Welp rip Thunderfang

* And welcome back Lloyd! First fakeout death of the season!!!

* Aw hugssss

* Shut up Ras you salty bitch

* This is all so sweet but there’s like five minutes left yet so I’m scared

* WHAT SORA????

* Ras stfu

* Poor Riyu :c

* Jay you’re fooling no one

* He actually has that fuckass haircut 💀

* He’s still pathetic lmao

* Awww Cole getting Geo some pie, so cute

* “Get away, weirdo” Jay sounds so fruity 😭

* I KNEW ARINS PARENTS WERE ALIVE

* Morro being like a Hermes (guiding souls to the underworld) is actually a really cool character development for him

* “You’re a big one” is crazy lol

* NO WAY HE JUST VORED MORRO

#ninjago spoilers #dragons rising spoilers #dr season 3 spoilers #dr s3 #cole brookstone #jay walker #zane julien #lloyd garmadon #nya jiang smith #kai jiang smith #arin ninjago #sora ninjago #ninjago wyldfyre #ninjago lord Ras #pixal borg #my thoughts

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mossy-morg · 1 year ago

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MY PARENTS GOT ME AND MY 24 YEAR OLD SIS TICKETS TO BLUEYS BIG PLAY

It's June

ya know what that means? Not only is today kids day in Poland so I have a festival-lile event at school but it's also Pride month!

This means I have to try make a Qinter piece. Which is also a problem because I've been struggling with this one headcannon and all three sides of my brainn want something else. Is Qibli FtM trans, Winter FtM trans or do I fuck it and make both FtM trans

Y'all enjoy polish kids day and the first day of gay month while I think.

Also my dad did ground me for four days(today is one of them) so I might not post too frequently. Also that means I'm writing this even thoI'm not meant to. I'm roaming my ass for y'all

#wof #wings of fire #pride #trans pride #transmasc dragons #pride month #kids day #bluey #bluey bandit #bluey heeler #bluey bingo #bluey chilli #Bluey's big play

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amethystarachnid · 4 months ago

Note

Hi, this is a request for

MARVEL MULTIVERSE - The Game

I am very interested in Greek mythology AU with Sam Wilson. (Female reader.)

I don't know how much you had planned for it but if you don't have anything planned for now this is what could work: (If you already had something planned, ignore this ^^)

Maybe a slight rivals to lovers? As I have something on the side with him cooking about an OC also using wings but as an owl, maybe something around that.

Thank you :D ✒️

WISDOM

⤷ SAM T. WILSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Sam T. Wilson x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, action, fantasy

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Multiverse

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.6k

ᯓ★ Summary: you and Sam never really got along, but maybe things between you two will change if you have to go on a quest together

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing

ᯓ★ Hi guysss!! I'm back! the fever finally healed and I'm back stronger than ever!!

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The sun dips low over the horizon, a burning ember casting its last golden light across the sprawling cliffs of Mount Olympus. The air is thick with the scent of wild thyme and sun-warmed stone, the distant crash of the sea below a steady rhythm that pulses through the ancient land. You perch at the edge of the precipice, your talons scraping against the rock as your feathers ruffle in the evening breeze. You’ve always preferred this hour—when the day begins to yield to the velvet quiet of night. It is yours, as much as the wings on your back or the keen edge of your sight.

The humans below are lighting their lamps, preparing offerings to the gods. Some, no doubt, will be meant for you. They always pray to you for wisdom, for guidance in the dark. An owl’s keen vision, they say, pierces the shadows where secrets hide. It’s a role you fulfill willingly. Not for them, but for the small spark of satisfaction it brings—to know that when they’re lost, they seek you out.

The sudden rush of air behind you draws your attention, your senses flaring in instinctive alarm. A moment later, a figure lands with an easy grace, the wide sweep of wings folding neatly against a broad back. The feathers gleam dark in the fading light, their edges tipped in a soft bronze that catches the sun’s last rays. You sigh before you’ve even turned to face him.

“Sam,” you say, your voice flat, though your pulse has quickened. “What are you doing here?”

He grins, his expression annoyingly smug. He’s always grinning, as if the world exists solely to amuse him. You’ve often wondered how he can carry such irreverence in the face of divinity—as if being chosen as the God of the Sky is a casual affair, not a mantle that demands respect.

“Can’t a guy enjoy the view?” he says, spreading his arms wide to indicate the sweeping vista behind him. “Figured you might appreciate some company out here, Wisdom.”

You bristle at the nickname. “I don’t need company.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he says, eyeing your solitary perch. “What is it with you and the whole lone-sentinel act? You’re not the only one with wings around here, you know.”

“Your wings are showy,” you snap, your gaze flicking to the sleek expanse of feathers at his back. “Built for speed and spectacle. They’re nothing like mine.”

“Showy?” He places a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know these wings have saved countless mortals from storms, fires, and the occasional poorly aimed lightning bolt. But sure, let’s call them showy.”

You roll your eyes, turning back to the horizon. He always knows how to needle you, to find the exact tone of teasing that leaves you balancing precariously between irritation and… something else. Something you refuse to name.

“What do you want, Sam?”

“You’re no fun, you know that?” he says, stepping closer. His voice softens, just enough that it brushes against your defenses. “I wanted to see if you’d heard.”

“Heard what?” you ask, though you keep your gaze fixed on the distant horizon. You don’t trust him when he’s like this, his usual bluster replaced with something quieter, something that stirs a strange ache in your chest.

“Zeus has called another council.”

Your feathers twitch, betraying your annoyance. “He always calls councils. Half the time, it’s just to hear himself talk.”

“This one’s different,” Sam says, his tone serious now. “Word is, there’s trouble brewing in the mortal world. Something… unnatural.”

That catches your attention. You turn to face him fully, your sharp gaze locking onto his. “Unnatural how?”

“That’s what we’re supposed to find out,” he says. “But you know how these things go. A lot of posturing, a lot of blaming, and not much else.”

“And you came here to warn me?” you ask, suspicion lacing your words. “Why?”

He shrugs, the movement casual, though there’s a flicker of something in his expression that you can’t quite place. “Maybe I figured you’d want a heads-up. Or maybe I just wanted to see the look on your face when I told you.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re predictable,” he shoots back, the grin returning to his lips. “Come on, Wisdom. Don’t tell me you’re not even a little curious.”

You hate that he’s right. You’ve always prided yourself on being above his games, on keeping your distance from his reckless charm. But there’s a spark of intrigue now, a question that won’t be ignored. If there’s something unnatural threatening the mortal world, it’s your duty to understand it, to face it. And if that means enduring Sam’s presence… well, you’ve faced worse challenges.

“Fine,” you say, your voice clipped. “But don’t think this means I’m going to tolerate your nonsense.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, though the mischievous gleam in his eyes tells you otherwise.

The two of you take flight together, your wings slicing through the cooling air as the night deepens around you. You’ve flown alongside him before, but it’s never felt quite like this. The tension between you is a thread pulled taut, vibrating with each beat of your wings. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, noting the ease with which he moves, the confidence in every motion. It’s infuriating, how effortless he makes it seem.

“Try to keep up, Wisdom,” he calls over the rush of wind, and before you can reply, he dives, a blur of dark feathers and laughter.

You grit your teeth and follow, your wings folding against your sides as you plummet after him. The air tears past you, and for a moment, there’s nothing but the sheer exhilaration of the fall. Then you snap your wings open, catching the wind and leveling out beside him. He glances at you, his grin wide and triumphant.

“Not bad,” he says, and you resist the urge to wipe that smug expression off his face.

The two of you streak across the sky, the world below a patchwork of shadows and faint light. You’ve always felt most alive in the air, where the burdens of divinity seem to fall away. And yet, with Sam beside you, there’s an edge to that feeling, a sharpness that leaves you breathless in a way you don’t quite understand.

When you reach the council chamber, the air is thick with tension. The gods are gathered in a semi-circle, their voices a low hum of discontent. Zeus stands at the center, his presence commanding as always, though his expression is grim.

“You’re late,” Athena says as you and Sam enter, her sharp gaze flicking between the two of you.

“Blame him,” you say, jerking a thumb in Sam’s direction.

“I’ll take full responsibility,” Sam says, his tone light, though his posture is respectful. “Wouldn’t want to tarnish her impeccable reputation.”

Athena sighs, clearly unimpressed, and turns her attention back to Zeus. “Shall we begin?”

Zeus nods, his voice booming as he addresses the assembly. “Mortals have been whispering of strange occurrences. Crops failing overnight, rivers running dry in hours, creatures appearing where they should not exist. These are not the workings of the Fates, nor of any god in this room. Something is amiss.”

The murmurs grow louder, and you exchange a glance with Sam. For once, his expression is serious, his brow furrowed as he listens. It’s a rare thing, to see him so focused, and it sends a ripple of unease through you.

Zeus continues, his gaze sweeping the room. “We must discover the source of this disruption. I will require volunteers to investigate.”

Before you can think better of it, you step forward. “I will go.”

Sam steps forward as well, his voice steady. “So will I.”

The room falls silent, and you can feel the weight of their gazes on you. Zeus nods, his expression approving. “Very well. The two of you shall go together. Find the source of this disturbance and put an end to it.”

You glance at Sam, your heart sinking. Of course it had to be him. This mission was going to be difficult enough without his infuriating presence. But there’s no turning back now. The path ahead is set, and you have no choice but to walk it—or fly it—together.

The mortal world feels strange as you and Sam step into its realm. Your wings, bound and hidden beneath heavy cloaks, feel unnatural, almost stifled. Every step on the uneven dirt road reminds you of the limitation you’ve imposed on yourself for this mission. Beside you, Sam walks with an easy stride, as if being forced to ground himself doesn’t bother him at all.

“You’re quiet,” he says, his voice low enough to blend with the evening breeze.

“Observation requires silence,” you reply curtly, your eyes scanning the horizon. The village where you’re supposed to start your investigation is just ahead, its cluster of thatched-roof houses dimly lit under the fading light of the sun.

Sam chuckles softly. “You can’t just say you don’t want to talk to me?”

“I thought that much was obvious.”

Despite your tone, his grin widens. He always seems amused when you’re short with him, which only irritates you more. But there’s no time for bickering now. The closer you get to the village, the heavier the air feels, thick with unease. You glance at Sam, and his face is serious for once, his jaw tight as he surveys the scene ahead.

The two of you enter the village cautiously, careful to keep your steps measured and your faces neutral. The streets are nearly deserted, and the few people you see hurry past without making eye contact. It’s a stark contrast to the lively villages you’re accustomed to, where mortals chatter and laugh late into the night.

“Something’s definitely wrong here,” Sam mutters, his gaze flicking between the shadows.

You nod. “We’ll find out more in the morning. For now, we need somewhere to stay.”

It doesn’t take long to find the village’s only inn, a small, creaky building with a faded sign swinging above the door. The innkeeper eyes you suspiciously as you step inside, his gaze lingering on your cloaks. You lower your hood slightly, revealing just enough of your face to disarm him.

“Travelers?” he asks, his voice gruff.

“Yes,” you reply. “We need a room for the night.”

His eyes dart to Sam, then back to you, before he nods. “Only one left.”

You sigh internally, already anticipating the argument that’s sure to come. But before you can say anything, Sam slides a coin across the counter and gives the man an easy smile.

“We’ll take it.”

The innkeeper hands over a key and mutters directions to the room. You follow Sam up the narrow stairs, your irritation simmering just below the surface. When you reach the room, you stop in the doorway, taking in the sight of the single, narrow bed pushed against the far wall.

“Perfect,” you say dryly.

Sam shrugs, dropping his pack onto the floor. “Hey, it’s better than sleeping outside.”

You glare at him. “I’ll take the floor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says, leaning against the bedpost. “You’ll be sore and miserable tomorrow, and we need to be at our best.”

“Then you take the floor,” you counter.

“I’m not sleeping on the floor either,” he says with a grin. “Guess we’ll have to share.”

Your feathers bristle beneath your cloak, but you keep your expression neutral. You don’t have the energy to argue further, and you know he’s right\u2014you’ll need to be rested for whatever comes next.

“Fine,” you say tightly. “But stay on your side.”

Sam chuckles, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Promise.”

You roll your eyes and turn away, slipping off your cloak and carefully tucking it into a corner. Without your wings bound, you feel slightly more at ease, though the thought of sharing a bed with Sam keeps your nerves on edge.

The two of you settle in awkwardly, lying as far apart as the narrow bed allows. You keep your back to him, your body rigid as you stare at the wall. For a while, the room is silent except for the faint creak of the inn and the occasional muffled sound from outside.

“Relax, Wisdom,” Sam says softly after a while. His voice is closer than you expect, and you can feel the warmth of him just behind you.

“I am relaxed,” you reply stiffly.

“Sure you are,” he says, his tone teasing but gentle.

You don’t respond, focusing instead on slowing your breathing. Eventually, your exhaustion begins to catch up with you, and your body starts to soften against the mattress.

When you wake in the middle of the night, the room is dark, the faint glow of moonlight seeping through the cracks in the shutters. It takes you a moment to realize why you feel so warm, so\u2026 comfortable. Then you notice the arm draped over your waist, the steady rise and fall of Sam’s chest pressed against your back.

Your first instinct is to pull away, but something stops you. He's holding you loosely, his body relaxed and unguarded in sleep. It's an intimacy you never expected from him, and for a moment, you let yourself simply feel it. The heat of his skin, the softness of his breath against your hair, it's almost enough to make you forget who you are, what you are.

But the moment doesn't last. Your mind catches up with your heart, and you shift carefully, trying to extricate yourself without waking him.

“Y/N?” His voice is groggy, barely more than a whisper.

You freeze, caught. “Go back to sleep,” you mutter.

He hums softly, his arm tightening around you just slightly. “You're warm,” he murmurs, his words slurring with sleep.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you don't trust yourself to speak. Instead, you lie still, willing your breathing to slow. It takes a long time for your racing thoughts to settle, but eventually, sleep finds you again, this time, with Sam's warmth still wrapped around you.

The next morning, you wake to the sound of birds outside the window and the faint glow of dawn creeping into the room. Sam is already awake, leaning on one elbow as he watches you with an unreadable expression.

“Morning,” he says, his voice soft but teasing. “Sleep well?”

You push yourself upright, your cheeks burning as you avoid his gaze. “Don’t read into it,” you say quickly. “It was an accident.”

“Sure it was,” he says, his grin widening.

You groan, shoving the blanket off and standing. “Come on. We have work to do.”

As you gather your things and prepare to face the day, you can feel his eyes on you, his presence a steady weight that you can’t ignore. This quest is going to be far more complicated than you anticipated, and not just because of the danger lurking in the mortal world.

The village stretches before you in the muted light of dawn, its narrow paths and crooked buildings casting long shadows across the dirt roads. Despite its eerie stillness, there’s an energy beneath the surface, a tension that vibrates in the air like a string pulled taut. You and Sam move through the streets side by side, cloaks drawn tightly to obscure your wings. His presence is a steady weight at your side, grounding you even as your senses remain alert for the slightest sign of trouble.

The innkeeper had mentioned strange occurrences—livestock disappearing without a trace, fields blighted overnight, people vanishing into the forest and never returning. There’s no clear pattern, no sense of what might be causing it, only an underlying fear that has driven the villagers to the edge. You suspect the answer lies deeper than what mortal eyes can see, and it’s your responsibility to uncover it.

Sam stops suddenly, his hand brushing your arm to catch your attention. His gaze is fixed on a group of villagers gathered near the well, their faces tight with worry as they speak in hushed tones. You glance at him, and he gives a small nod, a silent agreement to approach together.

The villagers stiffen as you draw near, their eyes darting to your cloaks. You’ve learned how to carry yourself among mortals without drawing too much attention, but their wariness is palpable.

“We’re travelers,” you say, keeping your voice calm and even. “We heard about the troubles in your village and wanted to offer our help.”

A man steps forward, his face lined with age and worry. He studies you carefully, his gaze lingering on Sam before returning to you. “What kind of help could strangers offer? The gods themselves seem to have turned their backs on us.”

“Perhaps the gods haven’t turned away,” Sam says, his tone light but firm. “Perhaps they’ve sent help without you realizing.”

The man narrows his eyes, clearly unconvinced, but another voice cuts in before he can respond.

“They vanished into the forest last night,” a woman says, her voice trembling. “Three of them. My son among them. There was no sound, no struggle—just gone.”

You exchange a glance with Sam. The forest. It’s always the forest. In every tale of danger and despair, it’s the place where shadows deepen, where answers lie hidden beneath layers of mystery and fear.

“Take us to the edge of the forest,” you say. “We’ll look for them.”

The villagers hesitate, their fear a tangible thing that hangs in the air between you. Finally, the older man nods, gesturing for you to follow.

The walk to the forest is tense, the silence broken only by the crunch of dirt beneath your boots and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. When you reach the treeline, the man stops, his face pale as he stares into the shadowy depths.

“This is as far as we go,” he says. “If you’re wise, you’ll turn back too.”

“We’ll manage,” Sam says with a confidence that seems to unnerve the man further.

The villagers retreat, leaving the two of you alone at the forest’s edge. The air here is different, heavier, as if the trees themselves are watching. You feel a shiver run through you, not from fear but from the strange energy that pulses beneath your skin.

“You feel it too,” Sam says, his voice low.

You nod. “It’s not mortal. Something else is here.”

Without another word, you step into the forest, the canopy above swallowing the light and plunging you into a world of shadow and whispers.

The deeper you go, the stronger the presence becomes, a thrumming energy that prickles against your skin. The forest is unnaturally quiet, the usual sounds of birds and insects replaced by an oppressive stillness. You keep your senses sharp, your eyes scanning the underbrush and your ears straining for the faintest sound.

Sam walks close beside you, his usual lighthearted demeanor replaced by a quiet focus. It’s strange to see him like this, all of his attention honed in on the task at hand. You’d always thought of him as reckless, too carefree to take anything seriously, but now you’re beginning to see another side of him.

“Stay close,” he says suddenly, his voice soft but firm.

“I’m not a child, Sam,” you reply, bristling at his tone.

“Didn’t say you were,” he says, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Just don’t want anything sneaking up on you. You know, since you’re so predictable.”

You glare at him, but the faint amusement in his eyes disarms you. For a moment, the tension between you eases, and you allow yourself a small smile in return.

The moment is short-lived. A sound ripples through the forest, low and guttural, like the growl of a predator. You freeze, your hand instinctively moving to the hidden weapon at your side. Sam steps in front of you, his body tense as he scans the trees.

“Did you hear that?” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Stay behind me.”

Before you can argue, something moves in the shadows—a blur of motion too fast to track. You barely have time to react before it lunges at you, a creature of sinew and shadow with glowing eyes that burn like embers.

Sam moves faster than you thought possible, his body a blur as he meets the creature head-on. His blade flashes in the dim light, slicing through the air with precision. The creature snarls, its movements erratic and unnatural, but Sam holds his ground, his strength and skill undeniable.

You shake off your shock and draw your own weapon, moving to flank the creature. Together, you and Sam fight as if you’ve done this a thousand times before, your movements instinctively synchronized. The creature is relentless, but it’s no match for the two of you. With one final strike, it lets out a piercing screech and dissolves into nothingness, leaving behind only the faint scent of sulfur.

You lower your weapon, your chest heaving as you catch your breath. Sam turns to you, his face flushed but triumphant.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice tinged with concern.

“I’m fine,” you reply, though your hands are still trembling. “What was that?”

“Something unnatural,” he says grimly. “Zeus wasn’t kidding about this.”

You glance at him, your irritation forgotten in the wake of the battle. For the first time, you feel a flicker of gratitude for his presence. Whatever lies ahead, you’re glad you don’t have to face it alone.

The rest of the day is a blur of tension and discovery. You and Sam uncover more signs of the creatures’ presence—claw marks on trees, patches of scorched earth, and the faint remnants of an otherworldly energy that clings to the air like smoke.

By the time night falls, you’re both exhausted, your bodies aching from the strain of the day. You find a small clearing and decide to make camp, the fire you build casting flickering shadows across the trees.

As you sit beside the flames, the silence between you feels less heavy now, less strained. There’s an unspoken understanding in the way you pass each other food, in the way Sam adjusts his cloak to shield you from the chill.

“You fought well today,” you say quietly, surprising yourself with the admission.

“So did you,” he replies, his voice warm. “Not bad for someone who’s ‘predictable.’”

You huff a laugh, the sound surprising you both. For a moment, the tension between you fades, replaced by something softer, something that feels almost like trust.

When you finally lie down to rest, the danger of the day lingers at the edges of your thoughts, but Sam’s presence is a steady comfort.

The forest feels endless, the thick canopy above blotting out the sun and casting everything in shadow. Days blur together as you and Sam press forward, following the faint trail of devastation left by the creatures. Every step deeper into the woods feels heavier, the oppressive energy seeping into your bones. Whatever force drives these monsters, it’s ancient and powerful, far beyond what you initially expected.

The attacks grow more frequent. It’s as if the creatures sense you’re getting closer to the source, their aggression increasing with every skirmish. The battles leave you winded and bruised, your divine strength tested in ways you hadn’t imagined. Even Sam, with all his confidence and skill, is beginning to show signs of wear. Still, he pushes forward, his determination unwavering.

You try to ignore how often his focus shifts to you—how his eyes flicker to check on you during fights, how his hand brushes yours when the silence stretches too long. It’s disarming, the way he looks at you like you’re more than just his rival, more than just another god forced to endure this quest. You don’t know how to process it, so you bury the thoughts deep and concentrate on the mission.

The final confrontation comes without warning. One moment, you and Sam are navigating a narrow ravine, the air thick with the scent of moss and damp earth. The next, the ground trembles beneath your feet, and the creatures emerge, their forms twisting and shifting like shadows given life. These are not like the ones you’ve faced before. They’re larger, more feral, their movements faster than your eyes can track.

You barely have time to draw your weapon before they’re on you. The battle is chaos, a blur of flashing claws and snarling teeth. You and Sam fight as one, your movements synchronized in a way that feels almost instinctual now. You’ve learned to anticipate each other’s actions, to move in tandem like two halves of a whole.

But even with your combined strength, the creatures are relentless. One swipes at your side, its claws tearing through your cloak and leaving a jagged gash across your ribs. You grit your teeth against the pain and strike back, your blade finding its mark. Beside you, Sam takes a blow to the shoulder, the force of it sending him stumbling before he recovers and drives his sword through the creature’s chest.

The fight feels endless, each second stretching into an eternity. You’re bleeding, your body aching with the strain of battle, but you refuse to falter. Beside you, Sam is equally battered, his movements slowing as exhaustion takes its toll.

Then, finally, the tide turns. With one final, desperate effort, you drive your blade into the heart of the largest creature. Its body convulses, a horrific screech tearing through the air before it collapses and dissolves into ash. The remaining creatures falter, their connection to the source severed. One by one, they fall, their forms dissipating into nothingness.

The silence that follows is deafening. You stand there, chest heaving, your weapon still clutched tightly in your hand. Blood drips from the wound at your side, staining the ground beneath you. Sam is equally battered, his armor dented and his face smeared with dirt and blood.

For a moment, neither of you moves. The realization of what you’ve done, what you’ve survived, crashes over you like a tidal wave. The euphoria is overwhelming, a rush of relief and triumph that leaves you dizzy.

Before you can stop yourself, you close the distance between you and throw your arms around Sam. He catches you instinctively, his arms wrapping around you as you bury your face in his shoulder. His body is warm and solid against yours, grounding you in the chaos of your emotions.

You don’t know how long you stay like that, clinging to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you upright. When you finally pull back, your hands still rest on his shoulders, your breaths mingling in the small space between you.

His eyes meet yours, wide with something that looks like shock. For once, he’s speechless, his usual smirk nowhere to be found. You’re not sure who moves first, whether it’s you or him, but suddenly the space between you disappears.

His lips press against yours, warm and urgent, and the world falls away. The pain, the exhaustion, the forest around you—it all fades into nothingness. There’s only Sam, his hands steady on your waist, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that takes you by surprise.

You don’t know how long the kiss lasts. It could be seconds or hours, but when you finally pull back, you’re both breathless. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes searching yours for some kind of answer.

“Was that—” he starts, his voice rough, but you cut him off with another kiss, softer this time.

When you pull back again, you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Shut up, Sam.”

He laughs, the sound warm and genuine, and for the first time, you feel the weight of your rivalry dissolve completely. Whatever lies ahead, you know you’ll face it together—and for now, that’s enough.

The ascent to Olympus is both triumphant and wearying. After days of trekking through mortal lands and battling shadows, your bodies ache with fatigue, yet victory fuels each step. The air grows lighter as you near the summit, the golden halls of the gods shimmering in the distance, their brilliance blinding after the dim forest.

Sam walks beside you, his cloak billowing in the crisp wind. His wounds, though tended to, still show faint traces of the battles you’ve endured. His steps are sure, though his occasional glances at you betray a quiet worry, as if even now he fears for your well-being. It’s a side of him you never expected to see, one that has burrowed deep into your thoughts and refuses to leave.

When you finally reach the gates of Olympus, the other gods await you. Their eyes are bright with curiosity and perhaps a hint of respect. Even Apollo, lounging against one of the golden pillars, seems to straighten slightly as you and Sam stride forward.

Zeus rises from his throne, his imposing figure framed by the glow of lightning that seems to pulse around him. He regards you both with a mixture of approval and something sterner, his gaze lingering on the faint scars and bruises you carry.

“You have returned,” Zeus says, his voice booming across the courtyard. “And victorious, no less. I confess I had my doubts, but you have proven yourselves worthy.”

“Was there ever a question?” Sam quips, though there’s no malice in his tone. His smile is easy, but you catch the tension in his shoulders as he stands before the King of the Gods.

Zeus’s lips twitch, as if suppressing a smile. “You’ve done more than I asked. The creatures that plagued the mortals are no more, and the balance is restored. For that, I owe you a debt.”

He steps forward, his presence dominating the space. “For your bravery and sacrifice, I will grant each of you one wish. Whatever lies within my power to give, it shall be yours.”

The offer hangs in the air, heavy with promise. The other gods lean in, their curiosity palpable. It’s rare for Zeus to grant such a boon, and you can feel their eyes on you, waiting to see what you will ask for.

You open your mouth, but Sam speaks first, his voice steady and clear. “I know what I want.”

Zeus nods, gesturing for him to continue.

“I wish to marry her,” Sam says, and your heart stops. His eyes meet yours, unwavering, as if daring you to object. “I want to build a life with her, not just as gods but as equals. And I wish for a domain of our own—a place where we can rule together, as others worship and honor us, just as they do the rest of you.”

A stunned silence falls over the courtyard. You can feel the weight of every gaze, every whisper of disbelief and curiosity. Even Zeus looks momentarily taken aback, his brow furrowing as he studies Sam.

“You ask for much,” Zeus says, his tone measured. “To bind yourself to another god is no small request. And a domain of your own… Where would you lay claim?”

Sam stands tall, his confidence unshaken. “The winds,” he says simply. “The skies already belong to you, Zeus, but the winds are untamed, wild and free. Let us rule them together. Let them carry the prayers of mortals to the heavens. Let them be ours.”

Zeus considers this, his gaze flickering to you. “And what of you? Is this your wish as well?”

You can hardly breathe. The weight of Sam’s words presses down on you, your mind reeling. You’ve spent so much of your existence keeping others at arm’s length, refusing to let anyone get too close. But now, standing before the gods, Sam’s proposal laid bare for all to see, you realize the truth.

You want this. You want him.

“Yes,” you say, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside you. “It is my wish as well.”

Zeus nods slowly, his expression unreadable. “So be it.”

He raises his hand, and the air around you shifts, crackling with divine energy. The sky above darkens momentarily, the winds whipping around you in a frenzy before they suddenly calm. You feel the power settle into your bones, a new connection to the world around you, as if the very air has become an extension of your being.

“It is done,” Zeus declares. “You are now gods of the winds, your domain as vast and untamed as the skies themselves. As for your union…” He pauses, a faint smile curling his lips. “Let it be known across Olympus and the mortal world alike. You shall be husband and wife, partners in rule and in life.”

The gods erupt into applause, some more enthusiastic than others. Aphrodite claps her hands together, a pleased smile on her face, while Ares merely grunts in approval. Even Athena gives a small nod, her sharp gaze softening as she looks at you and Sam.

Sam turns to you, his eyes shining with something you can’t quite name. He extends his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, you take it. His grip is warm and steady, grounding you in a way that nothing else ever has.

“Guess we’re stuck with each other now,” he says, his grin crooked but genuine.

You laugh, the sound light and free. “Guess so.”

As the gods continue their celebration, you and Sam stand together, the weight of your new roles settling over you. But for the first time in a long time, you feel at peace. Whatever challenges lie ahead, you know you’ll face them together. And for now, that’s enough.

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