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plush-rabbit · 2 months

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A/N: I can't come up with a title so,,,, yeah!! Anyways, I've had this saved in my drafts and I miss writing and even with spring break!! my professor still gives us homework. So, here I am. this is just a thing where like reader is an angel and falls and like it was gonna be a short series, but like,,, i never finish my series (except for ciays)

Word Count: 3.1K

You sit with a pit in your stomach. Your legs are causing the items on the table to shake, and you can't stop the dread that is looming over you, cold and heavy. There's a shift beside you, and a hand cups over your thigh, a feeble attempt to get you to stop moving. You can only flinch in response.

“Can you just- I don’t know, fucking chill or something?” His hand gives you a squeeze, before pulling back and crossing his arms. “They aren’t gonna do shit to you.”

“Lucifer fell because he asked too many questions,” you counter, gasping for breath. The room feels too tight, too full and empty all at once.

Beside you, he scoffs. “Love to break it to ya babe, but you aren’t him. You’ll be fine.”

“Exactly,” you hiss, hiding your face in your hands. “I’m not him. I’m- I’m a low ranking Angel. I- Oh Father, I don’t hold any type of status. I’m going to fall,” you voice breaks and tears are in your eyes, horror and fear making you pale.

“You’re not.” He’s harsher this time, and pulls you to look at him. His name is on your tongue, and he interrupts you. “I’m vouching for you. And so are the rest of my girls. You’ll be fine.” He loosens his grip on you, and smooths a hand down your hair. “Chillax, babe. I know you’re a little goody-two-shoes, but this is nothing. You’ll probably just get demoted or some shit.”

“Adam.” Your hands grasps onto his, and you want to believe that he’s right. “But what if-”

The door opens, and you both whip your head around, watching as Seraphim walks in, her head held high and face lack of expression. The pit in your stomach swallows more of you.

Your rise from your seat, and Adam begrudgingly follows. “Sera-” you clear your throat- “I uh- Seraphim. Good evening. I- I thought we were not allowed to meet before the trial,” you look around the room, and for a moment, you have hope. She wouldn’t go against orders, so perhaps she’s here with good news. You give her a tense smile, and she walks to the desk, her wings taut and folded behind her.

She sits at the chair with her arms folded over the desk. “I wanted to be the one to deliver the verdict.”

Your brows furrow, and sit back down, your ankles crossed over one another, and your body leaning towards Adam’s. His hands reach over the space between the chairs and you grasp onto him, nails digging into the clothed covered skin.

“The verdict?” You ask in a whisper. “But I hadn’t- What about my trial?”

“It was decided that you would not have a trial.” Her voice is like stone, unwavering, strong, and heavy.

“Decided by who?” A chill runs down your spine, and it’s as if you can feel a presence around you.

“If there’s no trial then how do fuck do you all even have a verdict?” Adam, as always, is crude, and it only furthers the sickness deep in you.

“Adam,” you say in a high pitched voice.

He turns to you, and squeezes your hands. “Well? What is it? Community service? A demotion in rank? Paperwork?”

“Sera,” your chest is tight, your bones pricing into the tender flesh, “why didn’t I have a trial?”

“Look, the demotion can’t be that bad, right? I’ll look after them. Make them my assistant or something. I got shitload to do anyways, they’ll keep me on it.”

“Sera,” you plead, “I was promised a trial. I was told that it would be fair.”

“No trial is good, right? Means it was easy to consider your fate.” You flinch. “You get to be my assistant. Don’t worry babe-” he tugs on your hands for your attention, but you’re fixated on Seraphim and that way that they look at you with somber eyes- “I won’t work you too hard.” The playful tinged words make you sick.

“Sera,” you croak, leaning away from Adam- “my trial. It was promised.”

She calls your name, it’s whispered like a prayer, uttered like a curse and laced in sorrow. You know your outcome, before she can even say it. “I’m terribly sorry.” Your body goes cold. “It has been decided that your punishment for questioning the beliefs and practices of Heaven will be the taking of your wings and The Fall to Hell.”

You can taste the bile. It burns, the acid fills your mouth, and it makes your eyes burn with hot tears.

“What the fuck!” Adam shouts, your hands are let go, and you stare into her eyes. You can hear the chair squeak as it’s pushed away and it nearly topples over. Adam goes to you, short strides to grasp his hands over your shoulders. “That isn’t fucking fair! They were promised a trial, so where the fuck is it?” He’s furious, and the hands around you bring you no comfort.

“I’m terribly sorry.” Seraphim looks at you as she speaks. “For the both of you.” Her eyes dart between you and Adam.

“I didn't mean to,” you whisper, your nails digging into your clothes. “I promise that I-”

“Come on Sera! I've done worse shit than them. Can't we just look the other way?”

“Adam, I need to speak to them alone.”

“Like fuck I’ll-”

“Adam,” you breathe out. He looks at you, moving to kneel in front of you and you look at the demonic mask, and you want to retch. “Let us speak in private, please. I’ll meet you outside.”

He looks at you, through the golden eyes of the mask. “Fine,” he huffs. He stands, and presses a kiss to the top of your temple. You wish that you could return the gesture- that you could look up and kiss him back without worry. “Yell if you need me,” he whispers to you. You nod, unable to mutter a word to him.

The door clicks behind him, and you’re left alone with Seraphim- something that you’ve never had the opportunity to experience. Perhaps if circumstances were different, you’d be more ecstatic.

They call your name, and she holds her hands out to you. Like a trained dog, you place your hands in hers, and you let the tears fall.

“Why am I falling?” You ask, gaining no comfort from her hands.

“Emily- one of the younger Seraphim- has begun to question certain aspects of Heaven. I fear that the questions won't settle.”

“So this is- I’m meant to scare her? To remind her of her place?”

Seraphim sighs, and she lifts a hand, tracing a delicate finger along the back of your hand. You hate the ways he says your name- like she still cares for you. Like your name is sweet as honey. As if she has the right to speak to you with care and love. “You must understand that Emily is still so young.”

“And a higher ranking than I am.” You turn away from her, but you can’t pry your hands away. You want comfort, even if it's given by your judge and even if the hands that hold yours are going to be stained in gold. They say nothing to your comment, and you hold their hand tighter. “When?” You croak out.You dig your nails into their skin- it’s cold, and as much as you want to hurt them, you cannot.

“By the end of the week.” Their words are spoken without wavering. “You’ll be confined in one of our holding rooms for incoming souls for the time being. You’ll still be allowed visitors. The spectacle will be watched by only those that you allow, and by the high-ranking angels.” You let out a sob, and bow your head. “It will be quick. With the ranking unbeknownst to the rest, it will be an Exterminator who will remove your wings. They’ll be wearing one of the ceremonial robes. After the removal of your wings, you’ll be-” she pauses and you can already feel the emptiness.

“I’ll be cast out.” You look up and she nods, her hands squeezing yours.

“Understand that if I could will it any other way, I would.”

You look at the hands holding onto yours, and you think about how someone will have to clean your blood. How they’ll get on their knees and wipe the ichor from the floor, how the rags will drip in riches and stain their hands in sin. Your wings flitter in response.

“You said an Exterminator?”

“Lute has been tasked with your severance.”

“Why not Adam?”

Seraphim looks shocked. “I- I would not wish for him to be the one to remove your wings. If it were any other, I believe he would do an excellent job, but since it’s you,” she trails off. “I do not believe he would be able to commit.”

“But Lute can,” you say.

“Yes. She is able to put her feelings aside, and do her job.” Seraphim pauses, their eyes are trained on you, and a few look at you in pity. “However, if you wish for it to be Adam-”

“No,” you interrupt. “No, you’re right. He wouldn’t be able to.” Your wings feel heavy. “Sera?” She hums in response. “How soon will I be cast out after my wings are removed?”

“Effective immediately.”

You lay in your new bed- the mattress new and solid underneath you. It’s nothing like the one back home. You can’t seem to get comfortable, all that you can do is lay there wrapped in Adam’s arms, pulled close to his body where your breath tickles at his skin. “You can run,” he says quietly into your ear. “I’ll leave the door unlocked, and you can run.” His act of defiance brings tears to your eyes.

“Adam,” your voice breaks.

“The Exterminators will be the ones tasked with chasing you down.” You feel the way his hands grip your skin, clawing and desperate to keep you beside him. “They won’t get you. They’re loyal to me. They’ll listen. You can live on Earth.”

When you close your eyes, tears trace down the curve of your face. “Lute is the one performing the severance of my wings,” you tell him a hoarse whisper, unable to keep the horror out of it. Even speaking about it is enough to send a pain down your spine and at the base of your wings. His nails pierce into your skin, pinching into the softness of your stomach. His wings flutter, and they are heavy above your body. “She’ll do a good job,” you comfort. “A clean cut that will make it easy to heal.” There’s bile burning in your throat. “Please don’t be upset with her after the event.” His arms wrap tighter around you, and his wings hide you from the outside, curving over your body, cupping you and holding you. Your hands hold onto him, at the nape of his neck, trying not to look at him, but commit his touch to memory. “I don’t think you should be there.”

“Like fuck I won’t,” he seethes, the venom in his words are unable to hide the tremor.

“Adam,” you murmur, “I’m serious. I- You shouldn’t see me like that. I- I know that I would look for you after it happened. I- I can’t ask for you to see me so broken.”

“I’m going,” he tells you in a tight voice, his breaths coming out in gasps.

You nod, and swallow the pit lodged in your throat. “Please don’t stop it.” He whispers your name, and lets you go, coming up to a sitting position. His wings still stretched, touching you so gently. You look up at him, tear stains glistening on your cheeks. “This is my fault. I’ve accepted it. I know I’m going to plead and cry for mercy, but ignore me, Adam.” Your hands find his, and you hold onto him desperately. “Don’t fight for me. Let it happen.”

“You should run away,” he tells you again. “We can run together.” Tears glisten in his eyes, and you don’t recall ever seeing him so upset.

You smile, but it trembles and falls, and tears spill out. “Where would we go?” You ask in a quiet voice.

“Earth.” His jaw tightens, and you don’t comment when his voice cracks. “We’d take a bunch of gems from here and sell them there. We’d be rich.” You try not to let the quaking in your chest show, the soft stuttering that threatens to release a storm. “We’d sing in some dingy ass club, and I’d use my blessing to make us famous.”

You laugh, and it’s clouded by tears. “I thought we were in hiding?”

“We’d be in disguise,” he counters, a hand prying away from your grip to wipe away the tears. “We’d settle after a few years, get a nice house in a big city. Gamble, drink, fuck. Maybe have a few kids in like a hundred years.” He smiles when you turn your head to kiss his palm, your other hand going to curve over his. “We’d have a nice life.” He lays over you, hiding his face into the crook of your neck, and presses his lips to the warmth of your skin when your hands tangle themselves into his hair. “It’s a nice plan, right?”

“Of course,” you say through tears. “You always come up with good plans.”

You stand in a stadium, dressed in white, your back exposed and your wings fluttering about no matter how much you will them to still. No one fears that you are going to run. Not when there are archers lined, and not when the Angels are watching you. You see Adam, and he wears his mask, standing with his arms held behind him.

You wish you told Seraphim that he wasn’t allowed.

Chains bind your ankles and wrists. The iron pinching your skin and irritating the flesh. You’d take this pain a thousand times over than what’s about to happen.

“For questioning Heaven’s beliefs and practices,” the voice echoes around, “we sentence you,” your name sounds empty, and you can’t breathe, “to have your wings removed and to be banished from Heaven.” You do a stupid thing and glance at Adam and he looks away at your glance. You feel a tinge of pain, but it’s better this way. “You will now have your wings removed.”

You turn your head, and see Lute. She’s shrouded in white robes with gold accents. Her hair is tied, and her wings are pinned behind her. She does not cast you on any type of look and you're grateful for that.

Her gaze is steeled. You know her. She knows you. She’s seen you at your worst, and you’ve seen her at her best. You’ve shared meals with her- broken bread and drank wine together. She’s been in your home. Her smile has always been sharp, and there are moments where it’s tender, vulnerable and saved for those closest to her.

She does not smile at you. She keeps her gaze focused on you, and you can’t help but tremble, the iron of the chains clinking together. You look away, and you’re grateful you had nothing to eat the morning of. You were grateful you were not given the choice of a last meal.

“On your knees,” Lute tells you in a strained voice.

You hope Adam won’t be mad at her. You hope that if he is, that she can take it.

You flinch at the chill touch of the sword. Your wings flutter, and you bite your tongue. You should make your case once more. You shouldn’t be here. You only asked a simple question. This shouldn’t be happening. You shouldn’t be here. There’s a point against your back. You look up and find Adam. You need him to save you. You can run away with him. You’ll live the life he wanted. You’d do anything. You’d be his. You yelp as something sharp cuts into you. You’d never disobey Heaven again. You’ll never ask again. You’ll be content. Please, Father, you’ll be good.

“Stay still,” she says, breathing out the last word in a plea, and when you cannot, she’s forced to continue.

The tearing is a sharp pain. One that makes you writhe and scream, your throat raw and the sounds unbearably loud. Every twist and turn only further aggravates the wound, skin pulling and muscles bare for the Angels to see. Warmth runs down your back, caressing the small part of your back and spilling onto your legs and thighs. Your hands slam into the ground, clawing at the porcelain floor. Through tears, you can liquid gold, shining and shimmering.

The cool air is agony against your open wounds. You’re warm, and wet, and the final strip of skin is pulled away from you. The heaviness of your wings are gone from you, and crane your neck to see them land with a heavy ‘thud’ away from you. The base of the ivory feathers are drenched in gold, and you can only think about the misery you’re in, and you reach for them. You need them back, you want them back. You’d sew them onto yourself if you could, but you can’t leave them here.

Your eyes glance around, wide and horrified, searching the crowd, and you roll onto your back, screaming once more, and calling for Father, your eyes landing on Adam. Legs block your view, and heavy hands lift you, pulling on your arm, and stretching the raw muscle.

You can hear someone, but your own screams overpower the other, and for a moment, you’re in the air, lifted and unable to breathe, until gravity pulls you down.

It’s a searing pain. It burns your skin and the whips of air slash against your back and body. You’re beaten and battered, carried by the air of Hell, and your screams only echo around you. The ground is unforgiving, a crater forming around you as you land. Gravel and sticks push against your skin. Your body lays crumpled on the floor, limbs twisted around each other, and your body is a mix of gold and dirt.

Weeds twist into your hair, and the stench of Hell makes you retch. You cry on the ground, alone and numb. There is no Father here; there is no warmth for you here. In a shay breath, with your hands clawing at the dirt, you wish for death. You wish for the demons to pry you apart and for your body to never recover.

And far away, tucked away in his castle, eyes looking up at the heavens, Lucifer sees a shooting star streak across the sky, and his heart drops.

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snivyartjpeg · 3 months

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oh my god they were roommates

#rain code #raincode #mdarc #master detective archives: rain code #yuma kokohead #yakou furio #is shinigami present enough for a tag #desuhiko thunderbolt #yes ive made the exact same smoking joke with two other characters idc #anyway. the thrilling sequel bc i love these two #most of these were requests from the rain coat server #you cant convince me that both yuma and yakou dont smell like bad body wash and cigarettes

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mxwhore · 7 months

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finishing a report while listening to the fear and hunger ost like

#i love miros artstyle so much what a master of vibes #yes im listening to pulse and anxiety and the prhvl bop on loop why do you ask #fear and hunger

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wexhappyxfew · 10 days

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12. pushing a strand of hair behind their ear

For Annie and Brady please.

I love them soo much. And I adore your writing.

Also I hope you’re doing well and are having a great day :)

hello anon! thank you so much for submitting this prompt!! 🥹 it absolutely took a fairly cute direction in quite the circumstance (we’ll see what that means), so i hope you enjoy!! :) thank you for the love on annie and brady too! 😭 that’s so sweet!! they’re a joy to write so i hope this provides some goodness for them! YOU TOO ANON!!! i hope your day (and now weekend) is going wonderfully! please enjoy!!!

i found you again

(a/n): had a much longer version that this but….did not feel ready for that so, i shortened it up and made it work a bit more with the prompt and i liked how it came out so :) it is shorter than some of my other writings, but i hope to expand on it more in future postings haha! please enjoy!!

Annie slowly slid out of her bunk and moved through the tiny room towards Brady's bunk and got a look at his face, immediately shrinking a bit at the sight of him looking so safe, small and youthful in his sleep, reminding her of that last time they'd found each other side by side, the unknowing between the two of them, one of their last conversations face to face. And now….he was right there.

Annie reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a small shake. In almost an instant, he awoke and turned to her in the darkness and immediately reached towards her like he always used to do and grasped her arm. Always reaching.

"Hey, everything okay?" he whispered quietly, his voice a pin-drop in the dark.

"I can't get myself warm." she whispered back, the frustration behind her voice, flogged with a bit more emotion than she was going for and he immediately moved over the best he could in the cot and lifted his blanket up.

"Hop in." he whispered, a small smile on his face. Annie immediately sat on the edge and pulled herself into the bunk, wrapped in her own blanket and turned on her side, immediately becoming engulfed in Brady's chest, his bit of warmth and him. He let the rest of the blanket fall around her form and then he immediately wrapped his arm around her, pulling her shivering form to his own side, arm rubbing up and down, a bit of friction on her clothes, from him. Annie snuggled her head into his neck, where it seemed to be the warmest and let out a small sigh of relief at the bit of warmth that was finally entering her body.

"Better?" Brady whispered, warm breath tickling her neck, and she smiled and nestled closer and nodded.

"Much." she whispered, "Thank you." He smiled, and she shifted a bit, cuddling deeper, and then sighed at the immense amount of comfort that she hadn't felt in days, finally encircling her. Slowly, she brought up a hand out of the warmth of the blanket, and brought it to the side of his face, gently brushing her thumb over the bit of stubble on his cheek, the pleasant feel of him just right there, was comforting in it of itself. It was all she needed.

"So," Brady whispered, his voice somewhere next to her ear, "I never asked, after you were captured - what happened?" Annie shifted a bit and sat up, away from the warmth of his neck, and instead staring down at him, her thumb brushing his cheek, head resting on her hand, staring at those twinkling eyes.

"I was out of it for the most part," Annie whispered back, reaching up to brush some of his strands of hair from his face behind his ear, over and over, watching the sleepiness roll into his eyes, "between the knock to my head and the knee, the lack of food and water….I don't remember much aside from well…..the questioning. The staring." She met his gaze, watching quietly as he let his eyes linger over her face.

"What'd they ask you?" he whispered, his voice so low, all she really saw was his moving lips in the bleary darkness.

"Questions about everything. The 100th. About Birdie; newspaper clippings and such. About Buck and Bucky, about the Regensberg mission - my name was in the paper. Asked about home." Annie managed out, her eyes hardly leaving his own, "I didn't tell them anything. I told them my name, my number, my unit. That's it." Brady watched her and slowly brought up his free hand and brushed it against the bottom of her lip, lingering over the few scabs under her chin from the few scuffles with Germans and falls and punches.

"You?" she whispered back.

"The same." he whispered, "Lot of questions about the 100th - Buck especially. A few about you." She stared at him.

"I didn't let on a thing, though," he whispered, "I'd rather die than give away info about any one of us."

For a moment, they just stared at each other in a way that was far more intimate than anything else in the past few days, enough where her heart raced, and she suddenly felt consumed by his ever-present gaze on her own.

"Did they do anything to you?" he whispered, his thumb brushing her cheek again as her hands continued to prod his hair, "I swear to-", he looked at her, "Annie, if they laid a finger-"

"No, they didn't, not like that," she whispered, hand shaking against his face, "just shoves, a few…punches-"

"Punches?" Brady whispered, "Annie I-"

"John." she whispered, louder than she had wanted and quieted herself, shaking her head, "I'm fine, look-" her hand cupped his cheek, "I'm right here." He stared at her so longingly her stomach hurt, that yearning, that want, that desperate, reaching nature lingering between them.

"I know." Brady whispered, his hand grazing her neckline which was layered in blankets and clothing, "Just….if I ever see them doing anything, I'm jumpi-"

"John," Annie whispered, her voice soft as cream, "you don't have to do any of that now. It's just you and me. Right here." She reached out and took one of his hands, placing it on her chest where her heart was, hidden under skin and bone and overcoats. Brady watched her, like some sort of miracle and believed her. He let out a breath and swallowed.

Watching each other in their current circumstances was an art in it of itself - their hesitant, lingering gazes, the touches on one another's faces, the way her eyes evaded his, but always came back, their bodies so close, pressed against one another, but still distant.

Watching Brady now, he looked beyond exhausted, more than he ever did back at Thorpe Abbotts, and the more she continued that same, calming motion of brushing his strands of hair back, sometimes to settle behind his ear and sometimes to not, she watched his eyes grow more tired.

And in a sense, she got the idea it reminded him of when he was a child, when there was no war and his Ma probably tucked him in at night and brushed his hair gently until his eyes closed. And now, he was halfway across the world, in a P.O.W. camp.

"You need rest," she whispered softly, watching as he leaned a bit more into her touch as her fingers graced over his cheek, his eyes fighting to close, fighting the sleep, "it's okay." He watched her through half-open eyes and brought a hand to her neckline and watched her.

"I'm glad I found you again, Annie." he whispered, "I don't know what I'd do if I knew you'd gone down and didn't end up here." Annie stared at him, her world stilling around her and she couldn't help but lean forward and press a soft kiss to his forehead, before pulling back and cupping his cheek.

"Get some rest, okay?" she whispered, "I'll be right here." Brady watched her again and then nodded, that small smile on his face failing to disappear, as his eyes slides shut and his body finally seemed to relax.

You couldn't do that much here, you were always on guard, waiting for the next sound of explosions, or someone in the hallway, yelling, screaming.

Yet, here, he finally seemed to let go of all of that and sleep.

And until his breathing became deep and slow, she sat up, running a hand through his hair and letting him feel at home for once.

Even if that home was nowhere near here.

Even if home was this, right here.

#masters of the air #mota #silver bullets #mota writings #annie bradshaw #john brady #john brady x oc #annie x brady #these two (sobs)#and yes.....this has always been the plan from the beginning if you were wondering (and as you can see....i still can't find myself writing #about when brady goes down in annie's pov)#(so we're avoiding it by doing this)#(ahhh)#this prompt absolutely opened the door to some quiet moments of these two side by side and sharing one bed is something i'm forever loving #please enjoy!!! :D #ladies who brady

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solomonssock · 1 year

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Imagine taking Diavolo to the human world for his birthday with a promise to show him something unlike he’s ever seen.

You take him with you to traverse the wildlife of a national park, hiking over weathered earth while you take candids of his enthusiastic reactions to the unfamiliar scenery. You send the snapshots to Lucifer and Barbatos throughout the day, assuring them of your safety and reveling in how adorable your lover looks.

Imagine how your heart swells as you take in the wonderment and childish glee that overcomes him as he insists that you two stop at each infographic on the trail. It’s necessary that he take in each one, he tells you, so that he can learn more of the world you were born upon, and how it formed.

The world he appreciates as an extension of you.

Imagine explaining to Diavolo how the sun’s warm caress can soon come to burn as you lather him in sunscreen - how he purrs his thanks as you delicately rub the lotion into hard-to-reach areas, and check him over to make sure he didn’t miss a spot. His grin is as unwavering as always, but his eyes are another story. Unlike how they shimmer beneath the Devildom moon, Diavolo’s eyes glimmer in the human world's sunlight.

This time, you make a selfish request for him to briefly remove his glamor and pose him for a picture that you send to no one. The way the specks of gold scatter through the trees and shift across his skin, blending into his eyes and the collar of his true form, is just for you to admire - your golden Adonis. You press a kiss to his cheek when you two finish, standing on the overlook and spending some time drawing out pictures in the clouds that float by as he hugs you close.

Imagine his complete and utter fascination with the cavern tour you’ve surprised him with. You laugh at how often he has to duck beneath the drapery formations to avoid hitting his head, but grip his hand as tightly as he holds yours as you both traverse deeper and deeper into the earth. Admittedly, snippets of the tour go over your head as you stare at him, unabashedly. You can’t help it with how cute he looks, enraptured by the tales your tour guide spins of human history, strife, and success. He asks questions as to how they initially uncovered and cleaned out the cave, how they’ve preserved the structure, and how they currently manage upkeep. When he is not inquiring, he points out every bat that crosses your path. He coos at how their little feet and talons grip onto the crevices and gasps when the guide shows him closely how they are able to use their wings to hold themselves up as they rest.

Imagine that near the end of the tour, the guide gives you guys a special treat and turns off all the artificial light planted throughout the cavern. Pitch blackness enshrouds you and robs you of your sight, but you don’t panic. This deep into the earth, there is no noise pollution; a pin could drop and all would hear. Yet, all you hear is the small murmurs and shuffling of the other ongoers who remark at how fascinating and terrifying this is - that no wonder humans once thought only demons resided deep within the pits of this cave. You smirk at that, squeezing Diavolo’s hand. He squeezes your hand in kind before he tugs it gently.

You quietly follow him as he pulls you a bit further from the group. Although you cannot see him, you feel him turn to face you before he kisses you deeply. Yes, humans were made to live in daylight; but demons thrive in darkness. You shiver as the ridges on his wings slide against you, embracing you as they push you into his chest. You melt into his hold as he tenderly rubs his thumbs beneath your eyes, whispering softly so that only you can hear among the murmurs behind you.

“Never will you need to fear the dark or demons, my heart. For I will be your eyes, your strength to command, and swear to guide you safely back to me when you stray too far from my side.”

Imagine how happily he digs into the plate he’s ordered at the nearby diner, famished from your long trek. He’s tried most of the teas before finally settling on a classic vanilla shake. The warmth of his hand seeps into your own as he interlocks your fingers atop the table.

You admire his features as the shadows and sun rays pass over him. He intently watches the sun set through the glass window beside you both.

“Volo,” you shake his hand when the last of the sun has dipped beneath the horizon, stars starting to prickle the night sky, “what did you think? Did you have fun?”

“I believe,” he begins, thumb rubbing over each of your knuckles with great reverence as he lovingly looks to where your hands meet, "I am the happiest I have ever been.”

“I also believe,” he takes another sip of his shake and you laugh as you have to thumb off some cream that catches on his lip, “ah-thank you, beloved. Yes, I think tours like this would do well in the Devildom, don’t you? How revolutionary would it be, to be able to share our lands natural formations with other realms, just as you’ve granted me the pleasure of today?”

You smile at the prince, marveling at his endless enthusiasm for, and dedication to, his dream. You know you should hold your tongue. When your love is enamored with an idea, he tends to run with it without thought to the paperwork that piles up as a result.

But you could never deny him. Strong as you may be, you do not have the heart to snuff out the awe that sparkles in his eyes.

“I think it would be a great way for our people to be introduced to the history and customs of one another. A beautiful showcase of the tenacity of each realm and an experience which could peak interest in the scientific study of our vastly different wildlife,” you muse.

“It would be interesting, too, if we could fund some research and uncover ways in which our lands may be compatible, especially in terms of agriculture. It would be good if we could open up trade between the realms sometime soon, and even better if we could grow some food appealing to both groups in either realm to encourage joint food establishments. Maybe a restaurant or food court you can visit after the tour?”

Your heart flutters as he brings your hand up to his lips and presses a chaste kiss onto the skin there.

“You astonish me as always, my heart. Truly, we are fortunate to have your insight on these matters.”

“And I,” he leans over the table, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, ”am fortunate to call you mine.”

Later, before you call for the check and prepare to return home, you make sure to set a reminder on your D.D.D. to treat both Barbatos and Lucifer to a bottle of expensive demonus for the unintended work you’ve set out for them.

#I've never called Diavolo Dia #He's Volo to me #would have loved to write a fic but don't have the time to invest in 10k words rn - yes 10k bc Diavolo makes me feral #I thought an imagine would suit it fine and I'm satisfied with it hehe #I'm working on more but I do return to school this week and another project is starting so I will be a tad bit more slow #no worries though - I'm sticking around for the long haul <3 #diavolo x reader #reader x diavolo #obey me #diavolo x y/n #diavolo x you #obey me x reader #obey me one master to rule them all #omomtrta #imagine #obey me imagine #obey me barbatos #obey me lucifer #reader insert #reader imagine #om! diavolo #obey me x you #obey me x mc #obey me mc #gn reader #gn!reader #gn!mc #this was entirely self indulgent and i wish i could explore the world with him #best travel buddy because he's interested in nearly everything and has the enthusiasm to keep you going #aa i love him

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pixelatedraindrops · 10 days

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You can't just leave him to suffer all alone Makoto... ;w;

So this is essentially a role-reverse of this comic XD (idk why)

Makoto may be super moody and fussy when he catches the flu; but if Yuma catches the flu, he's super needy and clingy when delirious. And it looks like Makoto can't say no to him... x'D

I guess your work is going to have to wait after all. Now you better properly take care of your sick original! (just try not to get sick yourself hehe)

I know this comic is usually supposed to be heartwarming but...I made it more silly.

because they're silly lil' guys... x'D

Based on another skit from @foxes-in-love

#rain code #whumpcode #master detective archives: rain code #rain code spoilers #yuma kokohead #makoto kagutsuchi #makoyuma #pixeldoodles #my art #sick comfort #idk why I decided to make a reverse of this #but it was very silly #makoto just leaves the stuff for yuma to use on his own #only for yuma to beg him to stay… ;w;#makoto you can’t just leave him alone ;-;#your work can wait yuma's sick and needs you #not even the almighty CEO can say no to THAT face 🥺#he removed his suit so it wouldn’t get contaminated lol #also yes yuma is in makoto’s bed #i like to think when Yuma gets better he won’t remember a THING #God I love these two they are everything to me ;w;#sick post game yuma reverting back to wet napkin yuma x’DD #this is the makoto version cause the bg is purple :3 #even the foxes roles are reversed in this comic x3 #god its 5am I should sleep…

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nozomi-mats · 4 months

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Best boy in baldurs gate so far

#yes you can pet the dog I love it #bg3 #nozomi gaming tag #I do not love that the dog's master was killed though that shit hurt :(

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corallapis · 7 months

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Do you want it? Do you want anything I have? Will you throw me to the ground like you mean it, reach inside and wrestle it out with your bare hands? Do you know how it ends? Do you feel lucky? Do you want to go home now?

#yes we're grainy b/w siken tensimm posting in 2023. what do you want me to say.#the way simm says “how about that?” gets me every time. like i know i have brainrot (see above)#but tell me a way to read how he does that line that isn't about love.#doctor x master #dw

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bumblingbabooshka · 3 months

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Tuvok & Janeway both strike me as people who insist they aren't rich* but then they bring up a summer house or something in casual conversation *note: I'm aware that Star Trek humans live in a post-scarcity world with no money but still. I can't help but see the truth and the truth is that Janeway's fridge had an ice dispenser.

#It's a very SMALL summer house #I love them <3 #Janeway especially is trying to stop Chakotay from eating her alive. She isn't RICH - she had to get a job. Her father ALWAYS #impressed the value of hard work onto her! (Where was the job?) It's not important. <- It was at a golf course and then interning at #some fancy lab because her dad was an admiral but he SWEARS he didn't pull any strings. Not her father!#Janeway gives off such big 'My father was a self made man!' vibes and I think he absolutely was but that meant she grew up a bit spoiled #and she doesn't want to admit it. Not EXORBITANTLY wealthy but still #Tuvok's 'I had a Vulcan master teach me kal-toh' ass....you had a vulcan MASTER teach you KAL-TOH??????? AT FIVE????#What is there to TEACH????????#I'm strangling him like bart simpson <3 #Vulcan Master: Hello (Tuvok's dad). I have conquered all emotions and have at my disposal knowledge which the common Vulcan could never-#Tuvok's Dad: Wonderful. Please teach my toddler Kal-Toh.#Vulcan Master:..................T he game Kal-Toh? / Tuvok's Dad: Yes.#star trek voyager #Kathryn Janeway #Tuvok #Janeway & Tuvok are the prince and princess of Voyager in that order

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fisheito · 2 months

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wait. puss in boots rei? unfulfilled dream? as.. as in. kinda like. a last wish.? like. the last puss in boots movie.? perrito garu?????

#OK BUT ANYONE WHO HAS SEEN THE LAST PUSSBOOTS MOVIE. YOU CAN SEE IT RIGHT??#THE REI WHO HAS LOST ALMOST ALL 9 OF HIS LIVES AND A GOOD BOY GARU TO KEEP HIM GROUNDED??#garu who has been thru the horrors but still maintains his loving upbeat demeanour #who would throw him away. 😢 no. we take the gkaru and we cherish them #seriously my folktale knowledge is so lacking. there has to be an actual story rei is based on yes?#mumbles while reading the wiki article... helps his commoner master marry a princess? awhua???#does that sound like something rei would want? hm. curious #i'll sit in my delusional world where rei puss in boots is the one with perrito and scawwy cool death wolf #my mind briefly entertained the idea of eiden as kitty softpaws but i couldn't imagine him fighting alongside rei at equal swordsmanship #....does REI have good swordsmanship? is he even a fighter? or is he more the type to throw flaming potions from afar #anyway yes eiden can be a street-smart smart alecky cat but can he fence? no? then no kitty softpaws for now #garu helping rei come down from a panic attack 🥺#rei has no feather on his cap. it is JUST Father. he looks like a feather until he unfurls his true form and becomes the orb atop the cap #rei #garu

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badly-drawn-bbu · 5 months

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HI FRIENDS!! As some might’ve heard from the main accounts of Admin Maah, today marks THREE YEARS since they first became a fan of BBU! But what you might not know is that I, Admin Buck, share this same anniversary with them!!! >:3 we were actually on the same call together when she discovered the game!

Before we get into some personal messages below, let’s talk about the art! We collabed on recreating two drawings we each made that faithful day ❤️ individual credits will be in this post’s tags!

Now here are some SUPER sweet words from Admin Maah 🥺: “I’ve already had my little celebration for the day but!! I can get sappy Again, as a Treat. BDBBU was started as a small side project back in 2021 because I really loved making silly stuff for this game, and years later I still do! These characters and this world are so incredibly fun for me to explore and work with and BBU countinues to be a source of joy for me through it all 🥹🩵 - Maah”

My turn to say sentimental things yippee!!! I haven’t played a more direct part in BDBBU for very long, but being a fan of BBU itself has both spanned most of our (the admins) friendship, and has made a huge impact on it overall. Making silly art and jokes surrounding the games characters has brought us closer together ever since we discovered BBU, and I’m excited to continue having fun with my best friend and making you guys laugh with our badly-drawn-bbu art onwards <:3c 💖

#admin buck #admin maah #CREDITS TIME!#Maah drew/coloured both Barnaby and Emmaah #they also coloured my Fantoccio and added all the text and extra effects #I (Buck) drew/coloured Buck and drew Fantoccio #I drew the OG doodle of our sona’s jamming to I’ve Had Enough of You >:3c #Maah ALSO drew the OG Fantoccio/Barnaby doodle #and yes they are singing the Best Friends song Master Frown and Brock sing in Unikitty! 🙏🩷 we both love that show and that pairing #bbu #billie bust up #badly drawn bbu #fantoccio bbu #barnaby bbu #dang it i can’t move tags in browser. just know that Admin Buck wrote this post in case it wasn’t clear enough #still tagged maah for their contributions!

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taardisblue · 2 years

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also lowkey the master wearing all the doctor’s old outfits had “dumped guy putting on his ex’s shirt to have a cry in the bathtub” energy im sorry

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers #dw #dw spoilers #LIKE YES BBY I KNOW SHE DIDNT KILL YOU HERSELF ON GALLIFREY #but is that REALLY a reason to just #raid her closet and just. sadly play the recorder on a mushroom planet for who knows how long??#also the way it ties into that master novella #i do love that vibe #anyhow in short once again the master is a bitter dumpee and decides to make it everyone's problem #more news at 11 #also one day ill process all the doctor's sad lil remarks about it. but not today.

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empresskadia · 2 months

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Hear me out:

If you're dating a Spartan, they're more than likely used to you as a member of active military, right? They're so used to you being a soldier that they tend to forget that before them, before the war, you were someone else. Like, Linda finding out you were a pianist, or Kelly finding out you were a gardener, or Naomi finding out you were in art school. Something like that.

OKAY I'M HAVING A FANGIRL MOMENT BECAUSE THE CHARACTER I HAVE IN MY HEAD WITH NAOMI IS AN ARTIST AND YOU READ MY MIND AND I'M SCREAMING

anyways-

I'm excited you brought this up and this whole prompt, because the Spartans would be more used to a more active military partner, whether it's being a Marine, ODST, a Spartan-IV, Scientist, Engineer, etc. They used to you fighting in a war, Spartans are antisocial by nature, so they most likely wouldn't hang out with your friends or other teammates, and most other branches of the Military view Spartans in awe, so they most likely never see you in a "normal" environment until way later on.

I'm sure they know you have hobbies, they've heard you talk about them and the Spartans delight in it for you but they've never seen you doing them. Most of the Spartans probably never thought of who their partner was before them.

So they are always pleasantly surprised to find out new things about their S/o, like, Linda would be scouting the ship looking for her partner after a mission, more likely than not, she's never heard someone play the piano before in person, sure, Deja played them music as children but Linda had never seen someone play in-person before, she didn't even know the Infinity had a piano. Imagine her surprise when she enters the empty bar and finds her partner lost in their own world playing a random song that might have significance to them. When you finish the song, she wants to hear it again, scaring you half to death when she silently appears at your side, "What song was that? Will you play it again for me?"

Or, Kelly going for a run around the Infinity's memorial park one early morning, say, maybe after breakfast, she knew you had plans after eating with Blue team. She respects her partner's space, choosing not to pry and going on with her business, of course, Kelly can spot her partner a mile away, it's second nature for her at this point. So when she sees you digging in the ground with flower pots all around, she goes to investigate. Her shadow towers over your hunch-over form and you just give her a smile over your shoulder before going back to business. Kelly observes for a while, remembering a conversation in which her partner said something about growing a garden again. "Is this what you mean by 'green thumb'? I don't think these flowers grow tomatoes."

Or, one night, Naomi finds you, Mal, Vaz, Dev, and Phillips, all slightly intoxicated in the staff room, chatting away about life before entering the military while her partner is tapping away at a datapad with a stylus. She's seen you use it before, assuming you were working on reports or reading in-time information. Naomi is about ready to drag her partner away before you've had too much when you start talking about a boarding school on earth that your parents sent you to before the war started, an art academy. Dev leans over, and gaps at the datapad before ripping it out of your hands to show the table and Naomi has to blink before she registers the sketches. Most of them were of...her? Different angles, her expressions that she often shows to you, some were even in armor and you had gotten all the pieces drawn correctly. There was one of BB, and the whole crew, another one of a previous unit you've served in and the last one was her laughing with stars and hearts drawn around her, the words 'the love of my life." written above her head.

I can even assume that John's heard his partner hum melodies, never a full song but humming to yourself while working on a project or even getting ready for bed. He's never questioned it, it's something you always did, he's aware some of the tunes you hum are from your grandmother. What he didn't expect was to return from a mission and being unable to find his S/o for a while until Roland directed him to the Infinity's bar, saying the Spartan-IVs convinced you to perform. It's your voice he's aware of first before seeing his partner on the small stage, singing away like nothing else mattered around you. John isn't surprised when you notice him right away after giving a bow as the room fills with cheers and 'encores'. You both slip away from the area knowing this wasn't John's crowd to be around. "I didn't know that was a song. Or that you sang."

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pumpkaaboo · 8 months

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fuck it. massive pile of byrgenwerth headcanons

Willem was a decorated and well-established scholar from a wealthy family. When he decided to depart his previous university and establish a new one near some recently-rediscovered historical sites, no one really thought twice, but very few followed him. Not many wanted to brave the bitter winters of the mountainlands (and, though no one would admit it, the rumors of a blood-drinking aristocracy and immortal monarch certainly played a part in many a scholar's decision). That was alright, to him. His ideas attracted company.

Laurence was one of Willem's students, and decided to put his doctorate on hold in order to follow his favorite professor to the newly-established university. He admired Willem's boldness and willingness to break new ground, to challenge assumptions about what was impossible. Over time, he grew disillusioned as Willem began urging caution towards the findings from the labyrinths, eventually leading to the Byrgenwerth schism. By the time he would have realized his mistake, he was too far gone to understand what was happening to him.

Gehrman was initially a simple mercenary hired to escort scholars through the tombs. However, the bond he fostered with Laurence drove him to catch up with the rest of the students and participate directly in their research. Eventually, he became something of a gold standard for tomb prospectors, and only those willing to follow in his footsteps were permitted access to the deeper layers of the labyrinths. He left with Laurence, not because he agreed with the newly-crowned Vicar's ideas, but because Laurence was the only person he had ever really been honing himself into a weapon for.

Rom was an orphaned scholar from south of the mountainlands who drew attention by being one of the only noncombatant scholars to accompany the prospectors to the deeper layers of the tombs, and she was the one who first Made Contact with lonely Ebrietas. And the left-behind Daughter of the Cosmos adored her. At first regarded as a charming little sister figure by most of the other scholars, resentment towards her began to grow once the realization that she was outpacing her peers became apparent. Rom was aware that she suddenly no longer felt welcome among her classmates, and began spending more and more time with her surrogate mother. The closer she grew to the stars, the more distanced she grew from her peers, the less able and willing to share her findings with them she became. Until one day, she was no longer human at all. The knowledge of how to contact Ebrietas died with her, not to be rediscovered until the Choir found the Isz chalice.

Maria, though technically a relative of the Queen Undying, was so distant as to be for all intents and purposes a member of the servant class. She took up the role of common knight just as her mother, and her mother's mother, and her mother's mother's mother had before her. What was not common was the circumstances behind her knighting; on her own, she slew the great, winged, many-clawed thing that had been her own mother using nothing but the blinding glint off a hand mirror and a sharp-toothed metal comb. Such a prestigious feat was almost enough to overcome the dishonor of a family member losing themself to the sanguine plague, and she received her title when she was barely old enough to lift a sword. In fact, Annalise herself was considering and subtly training Maria for the role of her own personal knight, though Maria left before she could make any such announcement. In Byrgenwerth, she saw the potential for growth instead of stagnation; for the creation of a new future instead of endless nostalgia for an increasingly clouded past. Not trusting the ideals she was taught by an aristocracy that made blood magic into an art, told her that her grief over her mother should instead be shame, and maintained feudal rule for centuries, she essentially outsourced her morality to her fellow scholar-prospectors. This would turn out to be a mistake, though she wouldn't allow herself to realize that until years after the fact. The hamlet, as it was happening, was merely the first crack in the facade to her. But before that, she was Gehrman's apprentice, and brought with her the techniques and traditions of Cainhurst's knights. She was responsible for Yharnam's hunters becoming descendants in spirit of the knights, though few bothered to learn enough about Cainhurst to draw the parallel. Gehrman ended up learning almost as much from her as she did from him.

(Cainhurst's cultural views on gender and sexuality are very different from those of most of the rest of the world, as implied by the knight's sets, Maria's hunter gear being clearly based on the masculine version of the knight's set, and Annalise's whole... everything. Maria probably had to be taught what the cisheteropatriarchy is and how she'd be expected to act by Rom. Her response was likely something along the lines of "That's so stupid and just makes everyone's lives worse, why do people agree to participate in it???" Rom did not have an answer for her.)

Logarius was a descendant of the knights who fought against the faction that would eventually become Cainhurst in the great Pthumerian civil war. Over time, a political conflict had been mythologized into a legendary battle between purity and corruption, not helped by Cainhurst's general isolationism. He initially joined the tomb prospectors in the hopes of learning more about the glorious history of his ancestors, and was quickly accepted into the ranks of the scholar-prospectors alongside Gehrman. Naturally, he was none too pleased when Maria showed up and almost immediately earned her place as Gehrman's star pupil. Maria, who had never been very good at reading the emotions of others, was unaware of his resentment towards her until the founding of the Executioners in their modern form. Ludwig, who arrived in Yharnam once the Church was already in full swing, was a descendant of these same knights, but despite Logarius's efforts to recruit him, he was far more willing to let the past stay in the past and focus on the issues of the present.

Micolash was a relative newcomer. He was the archetypal "former child prodigy gets to college and is surrounded by equals or superiors for the first time in their life and immediately has an identity crisis". The fact that said superiors included women was salt in the wound. (Compared to the rest of its contemporary universities, Byrgenwerth was fairly egalitarian in its admissions, but this was still a time period where women were seen as property. That mindset is difficult to shake, and most didn't see any reason to try.) He was determined to find a breakthrough that would outshine everyone else, and surrounded himself with people who never criticized him. Laurence was actually a bit reluctant to let him come along to the nascent Church, and definitely regretted his decision on more than one occasion. Especially after the School of Mensis for all intents and purposes severed itself from the rest of the Church.

(In a modern AU, Micolash would be selling cryptocurrency and Great One NFTs)

Caryll was a bit of an enigma. They never drew close to anyone, throwing themself headfirst into their work and only contacting anyone else to share their notes and results. No one was ever able to figure out whether they were a man or a woman. Maria was the only person unphased by this. Sadly, Caryll's transcription of runes only began to show truly impressive results once Master Willem's mind had already begun to fail, so he was never able to both see what his student had produced and understand what he was looking at. Caryll eventually died of dehydration after multiple feverish days spent working on a single rune, forgetting to tend to their physical needs. Ironically, the rune carved into the desk where their classmates found their body was Lake.

Yurie the Last Scholar was named as such because she was the last person to ever visit Byrgenwerth for the knowledge contained within before Yharnam, and everything around it, fell into ruin, not to be unearthed for centuries. Her mission was twofold: first, she was to comb through the texts of the university for anything new to the Choir. Second, and perhaps more importantly, she was to destroy any record that could be used to harm the church; most notably, this included attendance records which might be cross-referenced to determine which students had left alongside Laurence. She completed the second mission, but not the first. She lost herself in eldritch knowledge, and eventually forgot why she came to Byrgenwerth in the first place, so immersed was she in the thrill of discovery, of ever-expanding insight. Not that there would have been anything for her to return to. Perhaps what happened to her could be considered a mercy. She never had to know.

#bloodborne #byrgenwerth #master willem #laurence the first vicar #gehrman the first hunter #rom the vacuous spider #lady maria of the astral clocktower #martyr logarius #micolash host of the nightmare #runesmith caryll #yurie the last scholar #cloudtalk #and yes in my headcanon the comb maria used to kill her mother is the same one you can find in the old workshop.#anyway these are just my silly little headcanons. very subject to change and i love hearing what other people think

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