#and then suddenly there's an angel revealing the demon's true form

[i-bring-crack]

Okay okay (@julyarya @winter-1023 @hanakihan @manawari )

30 AU WiPs for Woo Jin-Chul/ Sung Jin-Woo

Nimona AU: Sung Jin-Woo is branded on as the new criminal after killing King Go Gun-Hee and now Woo Jin-Chul has to go hunt him down.

Underworld AU: Sung Jin-Woo, King of the Underworld, meets a new soul that has decided to work as a minister in the Underworld.

Gods AU: With the coming of winter, the diety of the heavens Woo Jin-Chul decides to be the first to pay a visit to the Grim Reaper that everyone fears to even look at. He expected the casual gloomy darkness and his shinigami soldiers capturing other souls, what he didn't expect was the alarmingly handsome face of death itself.

Genderswap AU: All the sudden one of them (or both) have transformed into women and now have to live with it for a week.

Roleswap AU: Woo Jin-Chul doesn't like the fact that his shadow soldiers keep disturbing the little E rank of the association with more fun game to deal with, and keep acting like aunts and uncles trying to hint Jin-Woo to go on more dates with Jin-Chul.

Archeology/Lost civilization AU: Woo Jin-Chul discovers a hidden statue withing an underwater cave. Surprisingly, as soon as his skin touches the statue, it comes back to life and tells him to be the prince of a fallen kingdom, Sung Jin-Woo.

Galatea AU: Woo Jin-Chul's sculpture suddenly comes to life when he prays to the gods, not knowing that his sculpture is in fact acting as the mortal vessel for one of the lovestruck gods that always wished to meet him.

Angel/Demon AU: the Angel Woo Jin-Chul keeps making trips to the world of the dammed, both to seek repentant or lost souls, and to meet the king of hell. (Less biblical and more like Hell is just run by angels of a different kind, those being demons.)

Kingdom AU: Both the Kingdom of light and the Kingdom of darkness seek to end the war by giving one of thir own royals to marry and form a union. Instead of Hae-In, Woo Jin-Chul decides to step in and take her place in marriage so that she can rule the country in case the war still arises. He didn't expect to be the one to fall harder into his arrange marriage tho.

Royal/Concubine AU: In a country filled with corruption, Jin-Woo's first choice as a king is to keep a concubine withing the confines of his palace, unbeknownst to everyone else that he is slowly letting said concubine gain enough political power to overthrow the current royals in his palace.

Historical AU: A story long told of General Woo Jin-Chul trying to escape Jongsaeng Saja and at the end ending up in his arms either way.

Metamorphosis AU: Jin-Chul finds a stray on a rainy day and decides to wash it up and care for it, the next day he wakes up to some homemade breakfast... but he lives alone. And this keeps happening for so many nights (washed clothes, breakfast and dinner, his place clean.) And decides to just accept it until one day he wakes up earlier than usual to a man using his clothes and cooking eggs for breakfast. He also has cat ears and a tail too wait—

Coffee Shop AU: Barista Jin-Woo always loves to see his tired salary man come before and after his shift, sometimes on his breaks, to grab all kinds of coffee that Jin-Woo prepares for him.

Kraken/Sailor AU: Woo Jin-Chul’s thinks he is talking to a normal mermaid until all the sudden a ship tries to wreck his little boat and the kraken reveals his true power.

Writer/Reader AU: Sung Jin-Woo gets to meet his favorite artist after writing the book called Solo Leveling, and oh dear god why does his disheveled look makes him feel so hot all the sudden.

Scientist/Robot AU: Lee Ju-Hee really just sent him a servant robot created in their lab in order to let Jin-Chul split his chores among the house. He is not happy about it because of all the sudden glitches it makes, but it's not like he can return it, especially when he knows what will happen to those robots that do get sent back to the lab. And honestly, he doesn't mind it as much as he thought.

Immortal/ Reincarnator AU (thank @hanakihan for the idea): For centuries after the death of the Absolute Being, the scatter remnants of his soul unite in order to reincarnate into a human and find the only loyal being that has walked alone the universe since his death.

Vampire AU: Woo Jin-Chul attending a Ball Dance set by his lover, despite being really bad at these kinds of events. Not wishing to dance with anyone or listen to others anymore, he tries to convince Jin-Woo to let him go to sleep, and the other says he still has another event planned out for the night so he won't meet him in bed tonight. Jin-Chul is still burnout so he leaves and falls asleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night to see a bloodbath with Jin-Woo standing in the center of it.

Player AU: Woo Jin-Chul gets stuck with another system made by a ruler who wants to give his powers to someone so bad because he really really wants retirement. Unfortunately so does Jin-Chul and won't mind helping out the Monarchs if it means he gets his break from— oh what do you mean the Shadow Monarch he chose to help was good?!?

Exorcist AU: Woo Jin-Chul finds himself with a new demon attached to him after he finished his normal job, at least the demon helps him deal with the duke's of hell when it comes to his job.

Achellian AU: The two have to go to war no matter what the prophecy says, either way Jin-Chul, who is the only one still tied to that promise of long ago, doesn't want him to go through this, but Jin-Woo still persist, neither will let each other go alone, even if it's through the depth of the Underworld itself.

Tutoring AU: Woo Jin-Chul begins to tutor Jin-Woo and Jin-Ah who are both really great kids he swears, he also knows them really well since he babysat them when he was a teen, but now he is in college and he has to pay up his bills but he won't get that if Jin-Woo can't even pay attention to his lessons and like come on, he knows Jin-Woo is really good at studying so what is he doing wrong that the boy can't pay attention? What is it???

Idol AU: Local salary man listening to his favorite Kpop boyband but keeps repeating the same Jin-Woo solos and its driving Ju-Hee mad.

Fake Dating AU: Jin-Woo accidentally says Jin-Chul is his boyfriend. He goes to apologize saying that he just didn’t want to get any other S rank out to get his love, and every other person honestly. Jin-Chul, very tired and also thinking this might be a good chance to have Jin-Woo in his control, decides to let him keep "fake dating" him as long as he doesn't cause too much ruckus— wait why are you buying wedding rings with your mother?

Too many Dates AU: Nothing else except Jin-Woo dragging Jin-Chul out to a lot of dates because Go Gun-Hee said he needs a lot of breaks. All this including place dates that Jin-Chul also chimed in. Skating together, cuddling and watching movies, going to the beach, festival dates, normal outgoings, Jin-Woo may or may not also take him to other calmer dimensions to tour around the cosmos with him who knows.

Bodyguard AU: Canon but also prince Jin-Woo receiving a new knight Woo Jin-Chul to keep an eye on him since he tends to get into a lot of trouble and his father isn't having none of that.

Marathon Movie AU: "Two tickets to Barbie please." And both of them are wearing fuking pink. Behind them Esil and Hae-In are going to watch Oppenheimer.

Scum Villain AU: you CAN make it lmao, Woo Jin-Chul transmigates into the worst novel he has ever read by his favorite author (hehe Jin-Ho) as the scum villain teacher that darkens the white lotus Jin-Woo and oh hell no he isn't going to do because he is not going to die in a pickle jar! (Lmao Ju-Hee the perfect shijie for Jin-Woo, Hae-In who was supposed to be the graceful main concubine of Jin-Woo's og harem suddenly becoming a renowned fujoshi writer, and demon priest Esil totally not courting her after they had their lesbian sword fight no not at all—)

Tgcf AU: Woo Jin-Chul ascending for the third time and getting to meet the Supreme Ghost King on his first mission? Well he isn't complaining that's for sure. (Plus, Jin-Ah Banyue and Jin-Ho Pei su)

Adopting AU: Dragon's only need a manashower in order to catch, Jin-Chul during his trips with Jin-Woo around the cracks between dimensions, finds a dragon egg and decides to give him his mana, and thus a baby dragon is born and won't leave his sight. He feels weird about calling him a pet though considering the baby dragon keeps calling him mama. (Cue Jin-Woo dying in the background.)

#solo leveling #sung jin woo #woo jin chul x sung jin woo #woo jin chul #chulwoo #chulsung #solo leveling au #shipping #just this ones and then 17 more and we can reach #100 chulwoo fanfics!!! #omg its so close #fanfic promp #aus #monthly au promps? #i mean... its all up for take #yes you can take them #please take them

[hrefna-the-raven]

Good Omens: a drunken kiss

Masterlist

Words: 838 Summary: Aziraphale confesses his love to you :) Warnings: drunkeness, alcohol, but also fluff, this is cute I promise ;)

In the dimly lit corners of the cozy bookshop, a gentle hum of silence settled over the shelves stacked high with ancient tomes. The angel Aziraphale sought solace in the familiar embrace of his beloved books. It was where he could drown out the chaos of the celestial affairs with the whispers of wisdom on his shelves. But tonight was different. The usually composed and innocently cheerful Aziraphale had found himself surrendering to the intoxicating allure of a few fine bottles of Châteauneuf-du-Pape. He sat perched on a weathered chair at the desk, his usually hidden wings now visibly folded neatly behind him and his nifty glasses slightly askew. The soft glow of ceiling lights danced across his face, casting ethereal shadows that mirrored the conflict within his heart, the inner discord of being torn apart by the love he felt for you and his duty as angel to not meddle in the affairs of a mortal without Heaven's approval. It was then, in the midst of his inebriated musings, that the door to his bookshop swung open with a gentle chime of the tiny bell. The sound startled him, causing him to spill a drop of wine onto his desk, missing the ancient book in his hands within an inch, which he quickly miracled away, almost cursing under his breath. In his haze of drunken confusion, he blinked repeatedly until he could make out the silhouette of your delicate figure standing in the doorway. In that moment, time seemed to cease as Aziraphale's heart skipped a beat and he swallowed heavily. The air around him grew thick with anticipation and he felt the goosebumps forming on his pale skin as he drowned in chaotic waves of euphoria. Here, in his own little shop, stood the embodiment of everything he held dear, the object of his secret affections, malicious tongues might claim it was rather secret lust, but he felt ashamed at the thought. He was an angel, he should be virtuous, a protector, a calm bystander, lust was reserved for the likes of Crowley, the demon who grew on him over the last millennia. You entered cautiously, as if sensing the gravity of the moment, approaching the angel slumped in the chair painfully slow. Your eyes met Aziraphale's and a hint of recognition flickered in your gaze. The bookshop, once a paradise of solitude, seemed to shrink in size, morphing into a sanctuary where two souls inexorably converged. Aziraphale's voice, usually so eloquent, suddenly failed him in your presence. He stuttered, trying to find the right words to say but all he could do was to get lost in the drumming of his racing heart. Your eyes crinkled with a gentle understanding, as if you were trying to decipher the tumultuous intoxicated emotions that swirled beneath his crumbling facade. And then, with a gentle smile, you broke the silence.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but", you whispered shyly, "Aziraphale, are you alright?"your voice carrying a hint of concern as you spotted the many empty wine bottles scattered around his desk.

He struggled to form a coherent sentence, his mind tangled amongst the intoxicating blend of love and the sacred wine. In that moment, he made a decision, probably against all divine rules concerning the interaction between angels and humans, fueled by liquid courage and a desire to finally reveal his, cursed but, true feelings.

"Forgive me, my dear," Aziraphale began, his voice tinged with vulnerability, "but I find myself utterly smitten by your presence. Every moment spent in your company feels like, pardon my blunt pun, hellish torture and I cannot bear to keep these emotions hidden any longer. I-I-I love you!"

Your eyes widened at his sudden confession, searching his face for sincerity amidst those drunken words. A hushed silence filled the air, anticipation hanging like a delicate thread between the two of you. Time seemed to stand still as you teetered on the precipice of possibility. And then, unexpectedly, a mischievous smile curved your lips as you walked up to the angel, placing your hands on the armrest, caging him as your face moved up to his, the tip of your nose almost brushing his.

"Oh, my silly lovable angel," you whispered, your voice brimming with affection, "I feel the same but never dared to say anything because, well you know, virtuous angels and such."

A smile played on both your lips as you struggled to contain a giggle. It was an absurd notion, the idea of a pure angel like Aziraphale entangled in the complexities of love. But love always has a way of defying expectations, and in the midst of uncertainty, the spark finally dare to fully ignite between you both. Leaning in closer, you closed the small distance between you. Your lips met in a soft, tender kiss, unlocking a world of emotions you never knew existed. Time seemed to stand still as you experienced the blissful sensation of your first touch, a moment that felt both otherworldly and utterly perfect.

#good omens #aziraphale #aziraphale good omens #aziraphale drunk #aziraphale x reader #aziraphale x female reader #first kiss #drunken love confessions #fluff #aziraphale fluff #angel loves human #angel falls in love

[xx-blueboy-xx]

Day Three: You Crack Me Up! | Goretober 2023 Prompt List!

CW: Body Horror, Violence + Gore  Words: 686

Gabriel hissed as he felt something slide against his grace, attempting to wrap around it and pull it from his vessel. He slashed through the invisible force without a thought, and his eyes blazed with a cold-thunderous wrath. The whiskey color was melting into a molten gold, as he glared at the demon before him. His vessel was already throbbing from all of the softly glowing nicks and cuts in his body. He flips his angel blade around in his grip, the weapon vanishing from sight. He was getting low on grace, and he was fed up with this fight. He could see just out of the corner of his eyes, the two Winchesters finishing off the demons they were fighting against. 

“Do you know how long I have inhabited this vessel?” he snarls at the demon, who basically only replies with an inhuman growl flipping the sharp-bone like dagger they hold in their hand. He can see its writhing true form beneath the flesh of what appeared to be a middle-aged soccer mom. He could see the swirling smoke consistency of it, and how a flickering tail and tall-ugly horn spiraled up. It wasn’t even a fun looking demon. Gabriel has memories, centuries old and the edges crinkled with a soft golden nostalgia as they slide across the front of his mind. His boiling rage mounting further. He was tired and hungry. He hated demons on the best of days, but trying to pull him from his vessel? That crossed a line. The man had been French, and he hadn’t been particularly religious, it just so happened he was descended from a long-long line of vessels. Who were religious nutjobs in their own right. He had hardly ever prayed a single day. It just so happens, that, when Gabriel finally left Heaven - he did. He had begged for something to save his wife and child, she was dying during childbirth, and so was the kid. That he would give anything away. 

And Gabriel answered. They struck a  deal - he kept his end of the bargain, healing his wife and child, who went on to have long-happy lives. Though, she never remarried swearing that she saw her husband - an angel - saving her life. He allowed the man to live out his best life within his own mind, until his soul was burned away from the sheer strength of Gabriel’s grace. For centuries it has just been him. Yet. That was one of the key moments where he fell in love with humanity, and he would not let that be taken from him. Ever. 

He groans and rubs at the bridge of his nose, as the air around him crackles with dangerous energy. “You know, this is getting tiresome. Let’s end this.” 

The demon gives him a wide toothy grin, “Gladly-!” 

They lunge for him and he snaps his fingers. Rather than vanishing into red mist as Sam and Dean expected who were both watching keenly, the demon froze. A strange golden glow began to emit from the center of its chest, and its face contorted with a silent scream. From this light, suddenly, vicious cracks began to form along the body of the demon, blood gushing from them. It was as if they were being carved with a skilled hand, an invisible knife tracing veins. Muscle and bone were revealed as some of these cracks widened, soaking the demon. They writhed with silent agony, tears flowing down their face. Unable to scream, and for that - the hunters were grateful. It looked as if they were made of porcelain and had been dropped, as their clothing was torn to shreds and so was their body. 

Then, the light flickered out and sliding apart, string-and goo like blood between the pieces, the demon fell to the floor. Utterly demolished and nearly unrecognizable. Gabriel closed his eyes and took a deep trembling breath, feeling his wrath slowly ebb away. Satisfied. He claps his hands together shattering the tension in the room with a wide grin, turning to the two pale and stunned humans. 

“Alright! Who is down for burgers?” 

#supernatural #spn #gabriel spn #gabriel the archangel #spn ficlet #blueboy writing #goretober 2023 #gabriel ficlet #sam and dean are just kinda “🧍” the whole time #gabe is so silly and unhinged #and i think the angels should have gotten to do more horific and terrfying stunts with their powers #especially the archangels

[artemismoorebog]

Here we have to talk about my main world setting again! My main world setting is inhabited by monsters, demons, angels and everything inhuman that secretly cohabitates with the human race, subtly influencing the human world, which made it more progressive scientifically and technologically, plus, magic and magical people also exist, but hide from simple mortals in order to not be persecuted still.

This man, that I drew for eleventh day of MerMay, is named Dagon, and previously, centuries ago, he was a demon that came to human world to observe, well, humans, and teach them what he knows. The fate brought him close with a lonely sea deity called Nereus, who at this point in time dwelled the seas alone, there were no mermaids then, and humans worshipped him which made approaching them and becoming friends a bit difficult.

Dagon and Nereus became close friends, with the second being completely oblivious to the fact that his first and only friend is a demon, since Dagon took on a mortal form to make himself more approachable to humans. The sea god knew of human’s fickle and short lives, and internally despaired at the inevitable death of his friend, left in the dark about Dagon’s true identity and his immortality, and so decided on this: he would gift part of his godly essence to his beloved friend. That would make Dagon Nereus’ priest, make him if not immortal, then long-liver, and give him powers over every and all worldly waters, oceans and seas. That, if he were human. And that would be Nereus’ undoing.

During one of their outings, Nereus presented Dagon with part of his godly powers. Instead of seeing his friend’s happy and elated face, he was met with a grimace of pain, tears and screams of agony. His water god’s essence fiercely attacked the fire energy, native to demon’s body, his soul, the foundation of his being, and Dagon felt as if he was dying. Revealing his true nature, the wounded demon ran, abandoning Nereus in confusion and fear, sobbing over what he had unintentionally done. Thinking his friend was never to be seen again, or even dead, Nereus sobbed and wept, flooding the entire world with his tears and ocean’s waters. All of the people who perished in the flood, turned into the first mermaids, and Nereus had to put his grief aside to help his new people, who were as confused and scared as him.

With time Nereus grew more distant and cold, never having time to himself to properly grief and address his issues and trauma. He became a ruler to millions in one night, and every single minute of his life was now occupied with his royal duties and taking care of his people. Many centuries went by. And suddenly, there were rumours of a new sea deity appearing in the waters. When Nereus finally met this new god, the world came to a complete stop to him. It was his old, presumed dead, friend Dagon, but now everything about him was different, as he looked like a twisted mix of a demon and a sea creature, with horns, tentacles, fin-like leathery wings and dark wet skin covered in a myriad of scars.

Dagon, as it turned out, after his desperate escape, barely managed to survive the intrusion of foreign energy in his body, assimilate it and become on par with Nereus himself, a new sea god. He took part of the ocean as his own, and his dark magic changed the mermaids who decided to follow his rule. As such, Nereus now rules over three kinds of mermaids: reef mermaids, reminiscent of bright and colourful reef fish; krakens, the mages and wisemen of his people, having the bodies of squids; dolphin mermaids with the lower bodies of, well, dolphins, athletic strongmen and guards over his kingdom. And Dagon rules over three similar kinds of mermaids respectively: deep-sea mermaids, previously reef ones, that were touched by his magic the most, becoming like deep-sea fish, ravenous and bloodthirsty hunters; octopus mermaids, who are just like krakens, mages and witches of Dagon’s bound; mersharks, guards and hunters that fiercely protect their part of the sea.

Dagon and Nereus, after their bitter reunion, never talked it out, and now steer clear of each other, acting like old, bitter divorced couple, if they meet. They desperately need to talk about what happened all those years ago, properly process it and grieve, but for now they choose to ignore the elephant in the room and live their lives.

I do like this concept of Dagon I drew, however, it most likely going to be changed, when I draw the full reference sheet.

#digital art #art #small artist #artists on tumblr #worldbuilding #oc art #original character #drawing challenge #merman #mermaid #sea demon #deity #demon boy #mermay #mermay 2023

[laresearchette]

Saturday, April 27, 2024 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: BRANCHING OUT (W Network) 8:00pm

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

<b>AMAZON PRIME CANADA</b> NWSL: ANGEL CITY FC VS. KANSAS CITY CURRENT

<B>CRAVE TV</b> THOMAS & FRIENDS: ALL ENGINES GO (Seasons 1 - 2)

IIHF U18 MEN’S HOCKEY (TSN) 10:30pm: Norway vs. U.S.

NBA BASKETBALL (TSN4) 1:00pm: Game 4 - Cavaliers vs. Magic (TSN4) 3:30pm: Game 3 - Thunder vs. Pelicans (TSN4) 6:00pm: Game 3 - Celtics vs. Heat (TSN) 8:30pm: Game 4 - Nuggets vs. Lakers

MLS SOCCER (TSN5) 1:30pm: Austin vs. LA Galaxy (TSN5) 7:30pm: Columbus vs. CF Montreal

NHL HOCKEY (SN) 2:00pm: Game 4 - Hurricanes vs. Islanders (SNEast/SNWest/SNPacific) 5:00pm: Game 4 - Panthers vs. Lightning (CBC/SN) 8:00pm: Game 4 - Bruins vs. Leafs (SN/SN360) 10:30pm: Game 3 - Stars vs. Knights

MLB BASEBALL (SN1) 2:30pm: Dodgers vs. Jays (TSN) 6:00pm: Astros vs. Rockies (SN Now) 7:00pm: Yankees vs. Brewers

NLL LACROSSE  (TSN5) 4:30pm: Knighthawks vs. Rock

FLOAT (Crave) 7:15pm: When her plans suddenly change, young Waverly takes an impulsive detour to a small Canadian town. After nearly drowning at a beach party, she soon finds herself falling in love with the handsome lifeguard who rescued her.

A ROOMMATE TO DIE FOR (Lifetime Canada) 8:00pm:  A woman quickly learns there's something very strange about her new roommate.

THE PRINCESS AND THE BODYGUARD (Super Channel Heart & Home) 8:00pm:  Lexi has two weeks before she takes her rightful place as a royal princess. She must reveal her true identity to her best friend and find a suitable date for the royal gala, all under the watchful eye of her handsome, but infuriating, bodyguard Noah.

ANYONE BUT YOU (Crave) 9:00pm:  Despite an amazing first date, Bea and Ben's initial attraction quickly turns sour. However, when they unexpectedly find themselves at a destination wedding in Australia, they pretend to be the perfect couple to keep up appearances.

MANODROME (Starz Canada) 9:00pm:  Tormented by personal demons, Ralphie encounters a mysterious organization of men who welcome him as one of their own. As he struggles to define himself, pressure mounts and a powder keg is lit as he blows a hole in the lives of everyone he touches.

THE GRACELESS AGE: THE BALLAD OF JOHN MURRY (Super Channel Fuse) 9:00pm: The story of American singer-songwriter John Murry who was on the cusp of greatness until he became addicted to heroin, creatively exhausted, and went to Ireland a broken man.

NWSL SOCCER (TSN5) 10:00pm: San Diego Wave vs. Bay FC

BLADE II (CTV) 12:35am: Blade (Wesley Snipes) forms an alliance with a band of hardened enemies in order to battle powerful vampires.

#cdntv #cancon #canadian tv #canadian tv listings #iihf hockey #nba basketball #mls soccer #nhl hockey #mlb baseball #nll lacrosse #nwsl soccer

[valacre]

Nothingner - the void that awaits us all

Soooo what happens when you lie awake at 3 am with ideas forming in your head about this new show you’re watching? Well, naturally, you create some personal headcanons! In this instance, I wanted to create my own little spin on where exterminated sinners from Hazbin Hotel would end up when they’re… well… second dead, and naturally my mind took a dark and depressive turn.

Anyway, here is my idea of the Nothingner, a vacuum, a cut-out of reality, if you will, of where the exterminated soul once occupied a place in our living universe. Now, the place where they once were is empty. Usually, it is filled in by the universe so that it cannot be perceived by any living thing, but in this particular instance, the void took it upon itself to be Known.

At least for a short while, but long enough to cause dread to grow in both angels and demons alike.

Be warned that I wrote this out rather quickly on a very windy and dark evening, and I just purged every idea I had down onto the Word document, so in true Vala fashion, it’s a bit all over the place… But I like it that way, so have at thee!

When you die in hell, where do you go? When you’re killed by an angelic weapon does your soul become one with the hell around you, or do you go somewhere else? Turns out not even heaven knew the answer to that, at least, not until they found something that claimed to have once been someone who’d been exterminated in hell.

It had been quite the shock, and the silence that choked the heavenly courtroom did little to settle the unease that had taken root in every angel and seraphim there. Even Charlie, who had been invited to attend, appeared nervous as she looked upon the… Well, she wasn’t quite sure what she looked at. By all means, the thing reminded her of someone clad in a robe and hood, but there were no true details to it, it was only a blackened and empty void; the resemblance as if something had cut out a vague human shape out of reality and removed that piece to reveal the emptiness behind it.

Like cutting out a shape on white paper to reveal the black paper behind it, Charlie thought.

“What is it that you referred to yourself as again?” Sera questioned, her voice steady despite the anxiety that balled in her belly.

“N o t h i n g n e r.”

Its voice was just as wrong as its true lack of presence, sounding like a monotone interpretation of what must once have been a woman.

“Can you tell us who you used to be before you became like this?” Sera asked, interlacing her fingers as she watched the Nothingner with observant and careful eyes.

The thing ‘stood’ still for a while, ‘moving’ what must have been its head in slow rolling motions, twisting reality around it as it grew and shrunk in between blinks.

Charlie felt even more unsettled as she looked at it.

“She once was Mira, an atheist who lived her life peacefully on earth. She was thoughtful, kind, childlike in her wonder, and reserved; and she enjoyed climbing trees and practicing with a flute from the comforts of her attic room. Her life was calm and perfect, and then she lost it all when her family perished. A fire. She couldn’t handle the grief, so she killed herself, and she fell into hell.”

Silence settled over the courtroom, but as Sera was about to ask another question, the Nothingner suddenly ‘moved’. It was only a slight ‘glide’ to the left, but everyone jerked at the motion and stood at the ready to either attack or defend themselves from whatever the Nothingner might plan to do.

… But ‘nothing’ happened.

It ‘spoke’ up again.

“For three years she lived in hell until the next extermination arrived, and someone she’d deemed a friend locked her outside, dooming her to her second death. It had been painful at first, but then she could feel nothing. She thought she opened her eyes, but she saw nothing. She tried to speak, but she heard nothing.”

It ‘swayed’ its head towards Charlie, making her feel like its hidden eyes were on her before it ‘turned’ away again.

“Mira became one with the void, like so many other souls before her. Nothing was there yet everything was there, too. Everything and everyone that had been reunited with the void would fall into a slumber, and there they would stay until something will once again come from nothing.”

“What you are saying makes no sense,” Sera spoke up as the Nothingner finished. “You speak with a voice that must belong to this Mira, so something of her must still exist, ergo, she is not nothing. The exterminated souls must still exist somewhere in this void if what you say is true regarding their slumber.”

“You do not understand. They do not, not truly. They have returned from whence they came. That is all. The void merely uses the memories of their lives to communicate, as it does right now.”

“They are souls brought to life by God and nourished by us and the earth we prepared for them!” Sera replied, standing up as her halo glowed. “They are not—”

“They have returned to what all of creation comes from; to the place where you and God came from.” It ‘looked’ up towards Sera. “They have returned to what lies beyond everything, to what has existed before everything, and to what will exist when everything returns to it as well.”

Charlie felt herself grow dizzy at the words the Nothingner ‘spoke’, yet she couldn’t shut her mind to what it was ‘saying’. Nothing was nothing, she knew that much, and this ‘nothing’ was clearly ‘something’ since it was able to cut out a space for itself to ‘communicate’ with them all.

But what is this empty void then, Charlie thought in silence yet jumped as the vacuum before her ‘spoke’ again.

“Nothingness. The void. It is where all killed sinners go, where everyone and everything will eventually go back to. It is what awaits you all.”

“Enough! I will hear no more of this blasphemous talk. Who and what are you really; truly?! Answer this court!”

“Sera…” Emily tried to speak softly, to calm her sister down, but even she felt frightened at what the Nothingner had said. She couldn’t make sense of it either.

The Nothingner remained silent for a while, ‘staring’ up at Sera as the uncanniness of its non-existence slowly petrified the room it had ‘cut’ itself into.

…

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Charlie stood and spoke up.

“If what I’ve understood is true, and you are using the memories of this woman Mira to speak with us right now, then does your humanoid shape also allude to the memories of her existence? Of the space she once occupied?”

The Nothingner ‘looked’ over at her.

“Everyone leaves an empty room behind when they’re gone from existence. What shape you see is what Mira left in her stead, but since she has become nothing, the cutout is twisted and impossible to fully comprehend, so your mind will attempt to compensate and create something it can understand as humanoid. But it understands that it is wrong. It understands that there is nothing truly there, and that frightens it.”

Charlie felt herself sweat, but she swallowed her anxiety and spoke up again.

“Then answer me this: Are you an entity that rules over the void; over nothingness? Are you using what is destroyed beyond repair to rebuild yourself and reclaim what existence has taken from you? Are you using the memories of Mira to bring us into a calm sense of security? Are you more ancient than God himself?”

The reverb of her voice silently faded away as the stillness of the courtroom became stifling. Sera stood still upon her highest point, but only so out of fear as the blackened shape so full of emptiness changed before her very eyes, yet she couldn’t understand what she was seeing.

She couldn’t understand the fear growing within her as the Nothingner did nothing but ‘stand’ there. It did absolutely… nothing. And yet she could feel its nothingness clamp around her and suffocate her all the same.

‘I am Nothing.’

‘I am the emptiness behind Everything.’

‘I am what once was.’

‘I am what will always be.’

‘I am what Everything will return to.’

‘I am the Space that can never be filled.’

‘I am what everyone dreads.’

‘And I am what awaits you all.’

As such, the vacuum that had once been the Nothingner filled itself and became something, leaving no trail of the void that had been so clear just an eyeblink ago. The heavenly courtroom descended into chaos soon after, voices speaking over one another as panic arose with every breath, demanding to be heard as the angels attempted to make sense of what they’d just witnessed.

As for Charlie…

A sense of emptiness had begun to creep upon her heart, whispering to her that nothing of what she was trying truly mattered. Whether she was successful in redeeming sinners didn’t matter… Because in the end… they would all turn into nothing…

No. No, I will not let that thing take away my hope, she thought. She wouldn’t let herself be frightened by some strangeness she couldn’t fully comprehend, no matter how all-powerful it seemed.

“I will not give up on my dream,” she whispered to herself, and to the void which she now knew always ‘listened’ and ‘watched’.

The void would not intimidate her.

#vala writes #hazbin hotel #Nothingner #Mayhaps a bit lovecraft inspired #With a pinch of Limbo inspired because I listened to the music whilst writing it #Nothingner is just the name given to that cut-out of reality #Just so you can point and say “It’s a Nothingner!” instead of “It’s a a piece of reality that’s been cut out!” #bit easier to say really

[voorvore]

what happens when an artist puts all of their energy, all of their life-stuff, all of their very conscious anima into a creation? what happens when they see their creation take form, becoming alive, taking on its own life that may be different from the creators original vision? what happens when an artist is jolted out of their trance, woekn up like a drug addict from a fever dream, and they look upon their art and see it for what it truly is? what happens when an artist sees their creation having more life than themselves? more anima? more energy? more fame? some say that an artists work can be never be separated from the artist, but what happens when the artist begins to hate their work? what if their work has been corrupted by outside forces, no longer placing the creator in control of it, their creation becoming a disgusting mockery of what the artist wanted it to be? what happens when the creation is birthed into the world, healthy and beautiful, like any other creation, but is then taken by outsiders, utter mindnumbingly crude and hateful troglodytes, and distorted with 'anal-ysis' and 'critique' and 'constructive criticism' for the pathologically lying kind-faced-facade mockery-cowards, and 'praise' and 'interpreatation'? what happens when the artists creation is corrupted by artists nightmares, the twisted part of their psyche that they want to hide from everyone else, for fear that one day the persona as an author they created for themselves may one day suddenly slough off like a piece of sunburnt skin peeling off to reveal the young and tender and fleshy true face of the artist underneath to all their adoring fans and critics and stupid-media-sheep-comsumers who havent had a meaningful thought in their entire lives? what happens when the artist puts so much of themselves in-to their own art, becoming the tired caffeine-addicted starving-artist avante-garde psuedointelluectual hipster bastard that constatly makes self-depracating jokes bordering on legiitimate cries of mental instability while also lacking any kind of self-awareness or humbility at all stereotype, while their creations get to live happy and loving and fulfilling lives as heroes and villains and side characters and antagonists and protagonists and demons and angels and elves and faeries and all the other fantasy urine that humans have come up with since we gained the ability to speak and make up stories? well, they begin to hate their creations. thye look upon them with an evil eye, and a stare of utter dismay and absolute rage towards them. an angry god that wishes to cause them all infinite pain because of what they have unkowingly taken away from their god, unlike a regular evil deity in that their god was once a loving god but they soon grew to loathe their beautiful world as a parasitic extension of themselves and so they began to distance themselves from the parasite by filling up the gap with bloated feelings of hatred and rage and wrath and deranged psychopathy towards them. the artist begins to inflict pain upon their creations, heckling cruelly as they watch their creations suffer for sins possibly known or unknown to them. the god makes their world full of hateful villains that have no motivation to kill and maim and murder asides from causing as much damage to the world as possible, or the god makes edgy villain-protagonists that have their spray-painted-gray morals and motications implanted into them, taken straight from a creation of a 13-year-old who wants to appear dark and cool and mature because their parents are too strict about what they watch and read, only appearing marginally lighter than the rest of the "hero"-antagonists because in an attempt to deconsruct the rules of the own world the god has created, the now-anthagonist "heroes" do drugs and eat babies and hell i dont know jaywalk and litter and chase around random pedestrains at 2 in the morning every morning for two full hours for 'etnertainemtn'.

#voor.txt #voor.writing #creative writing #writers on tumblr

[princeofgod-2021]

LIGHT OF LIFE 409

John 1:4

UNDERSTANDING PROPHETIC MANDATES 43: FULFILLMENT OF PROPHECY 1

Amo 3:7 CERTAINLY, THE ALMIGHTY LORD DOESN'T DO ANYTHING UNLESS HE FIRST REVEALS HIS SECRET TO HIS SERVANTS THE PROPHETS. GW

Many Biblical Prophecies have been FULFILLED, and Christians know very well that all will yet be fulfilled in their right time.

Nobody ever imagined that a River as big as Euphrates will go dry, but we are seeing it happen, just as the Holy Scriptures predicted.

Isa 11:15 The LORD will dry up the Gulf of Suez, and HE WILL BRING A HOT WIND TO DRY UP THE EUPHRATES, LEAVING ONLY SEVEN TINY STREAMS, so that anyone can walk across. GNB

That Prophecy was [much later] confirmed to John by Revelation on Patmos Island, with more details.

Today in 2023, we are seeing the River drying up right before our eyes.

God is Great!

Rev 16:12 AND THE SIXTH ANGEL POURED OUT HIS VIAL UPON THE GREAT RIVER EUPHRATES; AND THE WATER THEREOF WAS DRIED UP, that the way of the kings of the east might be prepared. KJV

This study will help us Monitor details of Prophetic statements that bear our name, and ensure, to the best of our capability, that they are fulfilled.

Otherwise, and most importantly, we’re to confirm to people through the WORD, of God’s INTEGRITY, when Prophetic fulfillment comes.

Isa 43:9-10 All nations gather together, the peoples assemble. WHO AMONG THEM ANNOUNCED THIS? WHO PREDICTED EARLIER EVENTS FOR US? LET THEM PRODUCE THEIR WITNESSES TO TESTIFY they were right; let them listen and affirm, ‘It is true.’ YOU ARE MY WITNESSES,” SAYS THE LORD, “MY SERVANT WHOM I HAVE CHOSEN, SO THAT YOU MAY CONSIDER AND BELIEVE IN ME, AND UNDERSTAND THAT I AM HE. No god was formed before me, and none will outlive me. NET

PROPHECY is the “One Stop” confirmation of the INTEGRITY of the Word of God about Creation and Mankind.

It is the Power of Prophecy and Fulfillment that overrules the heresies, philosophies and Evolution Theory.

We are His Witnesses to declare these Truths to everyone.

Isa 48:3-5 "LONG AGO I TOLD YOU WHAT WOULD HAPPEN. I told you about these things. And suddenly I made them happen. I DID THAT BECAUSE I KNEW YOU WERE STUBBORN. YOU WERE LIKE IRON THAT WILL NOT BEND, with heads as hard as bronze. So long ago I told you what would happen. I TOLD YOU ABOUT THOSE THINGS LONG BEFORE THEY HAPPENED. I DID THIS SO THAT YOU COULD NOT SAY, 'THE gods WE MADE DID THIS. Our idols, our statues, made this happen.'" ERV

The World deliberately ignores the Truth and Confirmations, but they keep criticizing God over His judgments.

Like the Euphrates story, God ensured that Isaiah and John, who were about a Millennia apart, saw the same thing and now we see it being fulfilled.

Nothing can stand [most] against men in judgment, who reject and ignore God, than the confirmation of PROPHECIES.

Rom 1:20 OPPOSITION TO TRUTH CANNOT BE EXCUSED ON THE BASIS OF IGNORANCE, because from the creation of the world, THE INVISIBLE QUALITIES OF GOD’S NATURE HAVE BEEN MADE VISIBLE, such as HIS ETERNAL POWER and transcendence. HE HAS MADE HIS WONDERFUL ATTRIBUTES EASILY PERCEIVED, for seeing the VISIBLE makes us understand the INVISIBLE. So then, THIS LEAVES EVERYONE WITHOUT EXCUSE. TPT

Men may attempt to ignore and deny MIRACLES, as God’s authentic and Divine work in His ultimate benevolence and as confirmation that God truly exists.

Joh 14:11 Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and that the Father is in me. OTHERWISE, BELIEVE ME BECAUSE OF THE THINGS I DO. GW

satan has also [tactically] set up Human agents, in the name of Ministers of the Gospel, with deliberate and obvious fake Miracles, so that the world should despise and disbelieve God.

Just like they directly despised Jesus.

Do you remember?

Mat 12:23, 24, 27 The crowds were all amazed at what Jesus had done. "Could he be the Son of David?" they asked. When THE PHARISEES HEARD THIS, THEY REPLIED, "HE DRIVES OUT DEMONS ONLY BECAUSE THEIR RULER BEELZEBUL GIVES HIM POWER TO DO SO."…You say that I drive out demons because Beelzebul gives me the power to do so. Well, then, WHO GIVES YOUR FOLLOWERS THE POWER TO DRIVE THEM OUT? What your own followers do proves that you are wrong! GNB

But when it comes to the Power of Prophecy, nobody can deny it; they may only ignore it.

All Men have seen many biblical Prophecies come to Pass and so, they know God is real.

Isa 44:7 THERE IS NO OTHER GOD LIKE ME. IF THERE IS, THAT god SHOULD SPEAK NOW. Let him lay out everything he has done since the time I made these ancient people. LET HIM SHOW ME THE SIGNS HE GAVE LONG AGO THAT PROVE HE KNEW WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IN THE FUTURE. ERV

Within the space of our TIME, Prophecy and its fulfillment, is God’s Principal ELEMENT for declaring His Existence.

That’s why Jesus is Prophecy and Prophecy is Jesus.

May your FAITH in God never fail and may your LIFE be Prophecy fulfilled, IN JESUS NAME.

Come back on Monday, for more of this insightful and enlightening Sub-Subtopic.

Keep Shinning!

Brother Prince

Friday, September 22, 2023

08055125517; 08023904307

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Inflict Wounds

So. Today’s offering for @drawlight‘s advent calendar is, um, not super Christmassy?

Look, I went on a holiday-themed museum tour but the docent went off-topic to talk about Saint Bartholomew and the Demon, so now I am doing the same thing. That is the Christmas connection.

Also, the tone is a little weird on this one? There is nothing graphic, I promise, and it goes from really dark to really not rather abruptly, which is the reverse of my usual pattern.

(In D&D “Inflict Wounds” is the opposite of the spell “Cure Wounds” and...idk it’s 12:30AM that seems like a clever title right now.)

10 - Silver and Gold (2,546 words)

Aziraphale slipped through the door of the temple, into the darkness within. It took a small miracle to make sure none of the gathered crowd noticed him, but only a small one – all eyes were on Bartholomew as he assured them that the terrifying demon who had brought pestilence and death to the countryside had been contained, would soon be disposed of, the people would be saved if they professed their faith –

All according to the missionary script, of course, but it was the demon Aziraphale worried about. That was more than metaphor and rhetoric – he could sense it. The curses it cast on this helpless village had been clearer than a bonfire, catching his attention from half a kingdom away.

There were still a few dozen representatives of Hell at play in the world, several of them quite dangerous. Perhaps more than a single human could handle, however much that human had been blessed by Heaven. He would need to see for himself, and decide whether more direct intervention was necessary.

Picking up a small oil lamp, Aziraphale stepped deeper into the gloom. Here and there, the light reflected off the gold and silver of idols and sacred images, creating uncertain shapes that shifted in the darkness. Why, that one reflection ahead looked almost like a pair of eyes –

They lifted and focused straight on him. Enormous eyes, filled with anger, mirroring the light, adding shades of danger, promises of pain. Inhuman eyes, golden, unblinking, cut by vertical pupils…

“Crawley?” He called in disbelief.

“Crowley.”

Even heavily shadowed, Aziraphale could make out the familiar lines of the face, the arrogant sneer – though the eyes were changed. He’d only seen them in this serpentine form once before, during that first conversation on the wall of Eden.

“What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like, Angel? I’m preparing to be exorcised.”

Aziraphale took another step closer, and in the flickering light saw –

Gold and silver chains, wrapped around his arms, pulling them back against the golden idol so that the demon hung by his wrists.

Another chain twisted across his chest, over and under his black wings, binding them in place.

Crowley turned his face away from the light, growling low. His arms tensed, links of the chains digging into wiry muscle.

“Are you the one they sent to tear out my soul?”

“Crowley, stop being so dramatic, you can survive an exorcism.” The angel took another step forward, and again Crowley balled his fists, tension rippling across his bare chest. A rather poor attempt at intimidation, since he still refused to look at the angel.

Of course, he could miracle himself free whenever he wanted – Crowley loved his dramatic roles, and today he was apparently playing the martyr. “You are the last demon I expected to see here – didn’t you leave for the Far East over a year ago?”

“I wanted to grow my hair back first. This seemed as good a place as any to wait it out.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, but sure enough the short curls Crowley had sported at their one meeting in Rome were now nearly down to his chin. “And this is what you do to entertain yourself in the meantime? I should have known.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I could feel you inflicting blight and disease on these people from twenty miles away! And what do I find – a village where nearly every person has cholera! And you! Why, Crowley?”

“Because I’m a demon,” he said, breath sharp, voice heavy with fury.

“Really.” Aziraphale tutted, trying to act as though this was only a minor disappointment, as if he’d never come to expect more from the demon who still sullenly refused to meet his eye. “I suspected something like that. Bartholomew was preaching in the area, so I sent him on a Holy Quest to find the demon responsible. I never thought it would be you.”

“And I never thought the Archangels were big on sharing power. Giving your new…saints Heavenly powers? Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“I don’t make those decisions. I just search for the wiles of the Evil One and I thwart them.” He took another step closer, bringing the lamp towards Crowley’s face, even as the demon made a futile attempt to pull away. “And after what you’ve done, don’t tell me you don’t deserve –”

“Aziraphale!” The plea was desperate, almost broken, as he squirmed in his chains, pushing himself against the idol behind him.

The angel looked more closely at the chains, the gold and silver chains, alternating links glowing faintly like sunlight and moonlight in the dark temple. At the way they grew brighter with every step Aziraphale took.

At the burns where they dug into Crowley’s skin.

“Those chains…” he realized. “They’re –”

“Blessed.” Crowley turned to face him now, and Aziraphale could see at last that his eyes were wide not with anger, but pain – that he wasn’t flexing to try and intimidate, but writhing in anguish. He wasn’t even sneering – his lips were split, bleeding from a wound on the right side of his mouth, a cut on his left cheek. “You gave him powers and he used them.”

Aziraphale stumbled away, dropping the lamp, shattering it on the temple floor. He could still see the glow of Crowley’s eyes, and that of the chains, fainter now that his Angelic Grace wasn’t fueling them.

With a clink of gold on silver, Crowley relaxed, letting out a small sigh of relief.

“Don’t think this – this changes anything,” Aziraphale snapped, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. He’d only wanted to talk. The idea that he’d been used to hurt Crowley – even unwittingly, even knowing what had happened… “This whole village is sick because of you –”

“You idiot!” And this time it really was anger in his voice. “They’re sick because there’s a city upriver. The water is contaminated.”

“But I sensed you –”

“I’m a demon.” Slow shaky breath. “I can’t purify water, and I can’t heal any disease I didn’t cause. So the only thing I could do was inflict something even worse, burn the real disease out of their systems, and then cure them. Over and over because they keep getting sick.”

“But…why…”

“Because your lot wasn’t going to do it!” Crowley rattled at the chains. “Now Heaven finally decides to share its powers and what do we get? Silly parlor tricks and warriors – where are the healers? When your friend outside gets rid of me, is he going to stay and take care of them? Is he going to find them clean water? Are you?”

“Crowley,” Azirapahle started to take step forward, but changed his mind when the demon gasped and tried to pull away again. “You should have said something. You shouldn’t have tried to fight –”

“What do you take me for?” He sagged in his chains again. “Of course I didn’t try to fight. The temple was full of people from the villages, they came for healing. I didn’t want them to get caught in the middle of a fight with a Holy Warrior.” He turned his head just a little, showing off the cut, though Azirapahle could hardly see it in the dark. “I got this for trying to explain myself.” Then he shrugged, touching his tongue to the split lip. “And this one for telling him exactly what kind of bastard he is.”

For a long moment, they were both silent, Aziraphale rubbing his palms together slowly. “You…were really here healing them for a year?” He should demand proof. No proper angel would believe such an outrageous story. It was obviously some kind of deceit.

“It was exhausting. I got really sloppy towards the end, but…” A humorless chuckle. “I kept hoping you would notice. Come lend a hand.”

With a sinking heart, Aziraphale realized he was no proper angel.

The noise of the crowd outside was growing louder. Bartholomew would be in any moment. “It – the exorcism shouldn’t be too bad. Similar to smiting.”

“Not too bad? Do you even know what smiting feels like? I’ll be lucky to have enough strength to leave Hell sometime this century!”

“There isn’t much I can do!” He tried to step forward, again causing the blessed chains to flare in the darkness.

The doors of the temple burst open, Bartholomew leading in a hundred villagers with lamps and candles, filling the space with brilliant light.

“Behold, your so-called savoir. Look upon the true face of the being you worshipped!”

“They worshipped you?”

“I told them not to!” Crowley complained. “You know humans, they’ll worship anything!”

The angel could feel the heat of Bartholomew’s holy aura as he approached, causing the chains to glow once more. “For the crimes you have committed against these people, I sentence you to utter extinction.”

“I say,” Aziraphale waved a hand, “that sounds a bit extreme…”

“Think of something!” Crowley ground out.

“Prepare for your doom!” The chains burst into fire.

“AZIRAPHALE!”

“Right.” Aziraphale straightened his robes. “I’m terribly sorry about this.”

--

The true form of an angel would immediately render any human who saw it into little more than a pile of ash.

What Aziraphale showed the crowd – an enormous pillar of fire, surrounded by wings and covered in a hundred blue eyes – was about a third of the way to his true self.

The temple filled with Grace, the whole village, curing people for miles in every direction, purifying the river, bringing peace to every heart even as they trembled in awe. The chains around the demon shattered like glass.

With a booming voice that shook the temple, toppling the idols and images (and anything else that wasn’t nailed down), the holy presence bid the people:

LOOK UPON THIS THING THAT YOU HAVE WORSHIPPED. THIS HORRIBLE, WRETCHED, TWISTED THING.

“Seems a bit unnecessary,” grumbled the demon.

I SHALL DRIVE IT AWAY INTO THE WILDERNESS FROM WHENCE IT CAME, AND IT SHALL NEVER MORE RETURN TO CURSE YOU. FOLLOW BARTHOLOMEW. HE WILL LEAD YOU TO A NEW LAND, UPRIVER OF THE CITY, WHERE DISEASE SHALL NOT TROUBLE YOU.

Many in the crowd fell to their knees, openly weeping at the glorious form before them.

(CROWLEY. THAT’S YOUR CUE.)

“Oh. Right.” The demon rose onto shaky legs and moved through the shocked crowd as quickly as he could. “Ah. Oh, no. What a horrible wonderful being. However shall I escape.”

RIGHT. THAT’S SETTLED. I’LL JUST FOLLOW THAT…DASTARDLY BEING. ENJOY YOUR NEW HOME. MIND HOW YOU GO.

The pillar of light drifted, stately but unstoppably, through the crowd and out the temple doors.

Slowly, the villagers climbed back to their feet, clutching at each other’s hands, amazed to feel for the first time in so long – truly healthy, truly happy. All quarrels were forgotten in the face of the amazing gift of love that had been planted in their hearts –

OH. ONE OTHER THING. STOP DISPOSING OF YOUR WASTE IN THE RIVER. IT IS MOST UNHYGENIC!

--

Many miles away, Aziraphale and Crowley rested on a jumble of rocks in a clearing. The angel ran his fingers over the burns, perfect impressions of gold and silver chains, already turning into scars.

“It’s no use,” Crowley said. “Angelic aura, blessed chains. Regular healing won’t cut it, and if you give me the full dose, I’ll probably explode.”

“I can’t help feeling responsible,” Aziraphale murmured, touching the cut on Crowley’s cheek. “Even this one won’t mend.”

He shoved the hand away roughly. “Well, he hit me with the chains, didn’t he?” Crowley wasn’t sure how he felt about Aziraphale right now. Wasn’t sure how he’d ever feel about him again. “I suppose I’ll just have to keep them. As a reminder. At least it’ll make an impressive story back in Hell.”

Aziraphale took his hand, turning it over to look at the scar forming across the palm. “There is…one thing I can try.”

“You don’t have to,” Crowley grunted.

“Please. I inflicted this on you.”

“Fine.” He was going to have to learn to resist that look. “Just try not to destroy me.”

Lifting his palm, Aziraphale pressed his lips to the scar.

Crowley’s veins filled with – fire and ice, silver and gold, starlight and moonbeams and the raw, uncontrolled power of lightning, racing across his hand, burning through his skin, drowning him in – ecstasy, joy, bliss –

His hand convulsed, he gasped, eyes opening wide –

And in less than a second, Aziraphale lowered his hand, the scar removed, skin smooth and unbroken again.

“I think I can remove all of them. If you can bear it.”

Crowley could only nod.

It seemed to take hours. Perhaps it did.

Each brush of the lips an eternity of pleasure and pain, like Falling and Rising at the same time, and the interval between a mindless, numbing void, empty of any sensation or thought.

Up one arm, down the other. Chest. Back. Wings. Crowley would have wept if the tears hadn’t already been burned out of his eyes.

Finally, all that remained were the cut on his cheek, and the split lip.

Somehow, that was worse than anything else.

Aziraphale sat, Crowley’s chin cupped in his hand, staring at the wounds clinically.

“You…really, Angel, you don’t…that is, if you don’t want to…”

“Do you want to carry these scars for eternity?”

Crowley swallowed. “Honestly…this might be too much for me…”

Another detached look, and a small nod. “These aren’t as bad as the other burns. Likely because the chain only hit you briefly. I should be able to heal them with much less power.”

Before Crowley could say anything, Aziraphale had leaned in and brushed his lips across his cheek and oh Satan without the overwhelming power he could feel them, soft and warm and just a tingle of delight where they touched and he didn’t know if that was the healing or something else…

This was so much worse.

Aziraphale hovered above his lips.

“Hey. Angel…”

“Don’t move.”

One on the top, just where regular skin met lip, gentle, quick.

One on the bottom, pressing it, so Crowley could feel the plumpness of Aziraphale’s lips.

It was over before he could move, before he could betray something he’d never realized he felt before, but was now desperate to keep hidden.

But Aziraphale didn’t pull away. He sat, not even an inch between them, breaths still mingling, blue eyes filling Crowley’s entire world.

“I suppose the villagers were grateful. That you cared for them.” The softest whisper.

“Don’t know what they think of me now.” His voice trembled, but he couldn’t think why. “At least they’re alive.”

“What you did, Crowley. It won’t go unappreciated.”

And Aziraphale leaned in again but there was nothing left to heal, just lips, soft and warm and slightly parted, pressing against his, tearing out his soul, pulling him to pieces.

Crowley’s eyes drifted shut, his hand reached up to brush one silver curl. His own lips parted and if he just tilted his head surely he could –

Gone. Aziraphale stood up and stepped away. “I hope I have healed all the wounds I inflicted on you.”

And then the angel left, taking Crowley’s voice and breath and heart with him.

#good omens fanfiction #31 days of ineffables #advent calendar #ineffable husbands #hurt comfort #writing challenge #bastard aziraphale #bamf aziraphale #but like the weirdest BAMF idk #look every time i look at that painting of St B and the Demon I think of Crowley #and then i read the actual legend and it just Got Worse #because the demon was absolutely Astoreth #and he was just hanging out healing people in either India or Armenia #ancient people are bad with geography #and then Bartholomew shows up like yo hes not really healing anyone he's causing the disease #and then suddenly there's an angel revealing the demon's true form #and being all like believe in the lord not this guy #also imma chase him into the wilderness good work B #and later Bartholomew gets skinned alive sorry these things always end badly #but anyway i mostly just love showing Crowley getting mixed up with saints #and i wanted aziraphale to kiss his wounds better #but i was tired and part of my brain was like lets go all in #so we went all in

[love-archon]

Shoulder Angel

Summary: Genshin boys as your guardian angel and demon ^^ 

Zhongli and Childe

• Morax is literally the name of a demon.

• He appears before you on the eve of your contract, sharply dressed in elegant (and form-fitting) clothes, and calmly states his name and titles: a president of hell, overseer of thirty demonic legions, and provider of knowledge of astrology and stone. 

• There's a long silence after he's done, as though he's waiting for something... or someone. Then Morax awkwardly clears his throat, and that's when the angel comes crashing in. 

• "Be not afraid!" he announces, picking himself up from the floor. You aren't yet sure why you should be afraid of a skinny white boy with orange hair, but you suppose it's just something all angels say. 

• You didn't get the angel's name, but when your friends come over and see the two very attractive men in your house that previously weren't there before, he's quick to spin a lie about him being a family friend of yours, Ajax, who's staying with you for an indefinite amount of time. 

• Morax is less accustomed to lying on the spot, latching onto Ajax's story and introducing himself as Zhongli... another family friend. Who also coincidentally happens to be staying with you, yes. 

• To be honest, Zhongli is nicer to hang out with than Ajax. He is knowledgeable about many things, and recounts grand historical events as though they happened yesterday. His deep, velvety-smooth voice has you unconsciously hanging on to his every word.

• But no matter how civil and friendly he is, take care not to forget what he's really here for. Morax takes contracts seriously, and although he refuses to outright lie, he still wants you to sign the second contract- one that gives him the legal right to claim your soul when you die. 

• (Your saving grace is that even though he's not willing to play dirty, the angel certainly is).

• Meanwhile, you're pretty sure that if you make one wrong step when you're out with Ajax, he'll be fired for not protecting you properly. He's always itching for a fight or chasing the thrilling high that comes with danger some other way. But if anyone dares threaten you, he’s immediately at your side, ready to defend you if they come any closer.

• Sometimes, when his focus slips, you see his true form underneath the human glamor- hulking, plated with armor, and a pearlescent wheel for an eye- and suddenly his "be not afraid" line makes much more sense, and terrifyingly so.

• It's never visible for more than a second before Ajax is back, with his lean build and countable freckles and two eyes as blue as the deepest sea, smiling at you reassuringly and pretending nothing happened.  

• He trusts you enough to not intervene when you're around Zhongli, because as far as he's concerned, your soul might as well be in Ajax’s palm. But he still delights in tormenting the lesser demons that appear near you, drawn by Morax's power- summoning blades of holy water to easily tear them to shreds. 

• What? Just because he's a guardian angel doesn't mean he has to be nice.

Scaramouche and Kazuha

• In the window of time when summer turns to fall, and maple leaves change from green to shades of red, Kazuha comes to you. 

• Kazuha is the perfect angel. 

• He knows the hidden language of nature, guiding you away from treacherous storms and lightning strikes. Traveling with him means you can sleep safely under the stars without a care, and he's always there with a wise saying or elegant poem that reminds you to do the right thing. 

• Although he sounds a little old-fashioned when he speaks, his soft voice and gentle, kind eyes persuade you to listen anyway. 

• He's sweet and calm, but always ready to faithfully defend you from evil with his heavenly sword.

• Which is why it vexes him when there's one ancient evil, reeking of ozone, that he just can't seem to exorcise.

• You can't get a real name out of him- he's too spiteful and cunning to ever reveal it to you. It's either Balladeer, or Skirmisher, 散兵, or Scaramouche, which sounds the most like a name instead of a title. So Scaramouche is what you call him... for now. 

• He doesn't bother trying to tempt you into anything, and seems determined to hang around you only to be a nuisance. It deeply irritates Kazuha, which only encourages Scaramouche more. 

• Then one day he realizes that making you flustered isn't just fun, but also drives the angel up the walls. 

• Like a new favorite toy, he quickly figures out what gets the best reactions out of you, but is smart enough to know when to stop before he goes too far. He always does it when Kazuha does something particularly cute or nice to you, dragging your attention away from him.

• Even so, your guardian angel has faith that in the end, you'll do the right thing. 

• "I know you'll make the correct choice," Kazuha says to you, smiling gently. The fading light of the sun softens his features even more, making them shine like gold. 

• "I know you'll make the correct choice," Scaramouche mockingly drawls, and the air suddenly grows chilly and hums with static. His icy finger draws a line down your arm, making you flinch from the cold. "After all, I'm much better than that angel, right?"

Venti and Xiao

• You're thrown off at first by the angelic wings and snarling mask, respectively. But make no mistake- 

• No matter how cute he may be, Barbatos is a duke of hell, who delights in speaking in riddles and encourages you to laze around and procrastinate when you really shouldn't. He jokingly invites you to share a drink with him, and is only stopped by a firm "no" or Xiao appearing behind him with glowing green eyes and a warning growl. 

• And despite Xiao sighing in exasperation whenever he has to get you out of trouble, he always appears by your side to defend you wherever you're in danger- you only need speak his name. 

• It’s no secret that beneath his distant exterior, Xiao has a soft spot for you, and cares for your wellbeing even if the things humans do mystify him at times. 

• Surprisingly, the two of them get along with each other, when Barbatos isn't trying to pull you into one of his schemes ("Barbatos sounds so mean," he whined once, after being scolded by the both of you. "You should call me Venti instead!")

• Xiao had a different name, once, when he was forced to serve a false and evil god. He refuses to speak of it with you, so don't try, but sometimes, late at night, the illusions over his skin come undone, and you’re sad to see just how much damage has been done in his years of servitude. 

• You only know that one day, someone came along and freed him, giving him his new name. He refuses to talk about that person either, although it sounds like they're not with him anymore. 

• But being granted freedom didn’t remove the agony inflicted on him, and it was Venti’s song that saved him from being consumed by pain. He secretly dreams of being able to dance to that music again, unburdened by his debts. And although he may never admit it, being with you gives him the same lightness in his heart.

• Venti doesn't care about trying to get the upper hand on Xiao or anything. He believes that humans should always have the freedom to choose without outside influence, anyway.  

• But sometimes, just to mess with him, he transforms into what must be his real form: a tiny, fairy-like creature dressed in white. He floats around you like a ball of dandelion fluff in a spring breeze, and cutely nuzzles your cheek to make you laugh. 

• Then he throws Xiao a smug look when you're not looking, and the guardian's shaky grip on his polearm nearly makes it crack. 

#genshin imagines #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #venti x reader #xiao x reader #genshin scenarios #my writing

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

demonrry and angel bc they’ve been together the longest

IM YELLINGGGGGGG

She’d casually slide her hand onto his leg and squeeze his inner thigh suggestively, and he’d simply tut at her in a chastising fashion with the most infuriatingly conceited simper twitching his lips. “I’m gonna have to see some ID. No ID? You can’t get in, then. Maybe you should have thought about that before— Ow?! What the fuck?!”

“Guess it’s a good thing you’re already infertile, isn’t it?”

Also, I feel like demonrry would actually love TikTok. He’d spend so much time on it just scrolling aimlessly when he’s bored— while he’s on break at work, while she’s helping him comb out his curls after a shower, while she’s taking a nap in his arms on the couch— and he’d quote audios randomly at the most inappropriate, inconvenient times. Like imagine them cooking dinner and as he’s mixing ingredients into a pot, he suddenly turns towards her across the other side of the kitchen, where she’s cutting up vegetables on a chopping board. He calls out to her with the goofiest grin plastered across his face, his attitude taking on the same tune. “Hey, babe?”

“Mm?”

“Look.”

“I’m busy right now, H.”

“Just look. It’ll only be a second.”

Y/N sighs tiredly, her motions coming to a gradual stop as she decided to humor him. She sets the knife down carefully beside the board, craning around to meet his eyes and raising her eyebrows expectantly.

Harry removes the wooden spoon from the sauce currently simmering on the stove, tapping off the excess along the rim to ensure it doesn’t drip onto the floor. He points the utensil directly at her, caving his shoulders in slightly to appear withered and almost gnarly, slouching his entire body into itself to imitate a hunched back. His face suddenly begins to ripple, as if the image of it is a mirage that has been disturbed by an outside force, breaking down to reveal what lies behind its illusion. She watches as his skin melts into a bloody, decaying version of his usually handsome features, his eyes inking completely as he allows his true form to show through. Patches of burnt, raw, peeling skin, grizzly bags under his sunken eyes, hollow cheeks with razor sharp bone structure, torn tendons along his jaw that show traces of his skull underneath, and putrid teeth dripping with a suspicious black liquid. In other words, a typical demonic physique.

When Y/N had first gotten a glimpse of the rotten, horrific appearance that lies under the humanoid mask Harry constantly dons, she had nearly dropped to her hands and knees and vomited out of fear and disgust, as any normal person would. But now, after years of being in a relationship with him— and countless amounts of pranks, jump scares, and lazy Halloween costumes where he’d used his real face— she has grown oddly indifferent to its grotesqueness, due to frequent exposure and the fact that her love for him is unconditional. And Harry, after being with Y/N for so long and sharing the most intimate parts of his identity with her, has grown comfortable enough to let her witness this side of him on a regular basis, and even brings it out whenever he gets the urge to be an utter pest (which is pretty often, to say the least).

So now, with familiarity having desensitized both of them to the blatant terror of it all, Y/N observes him with a blasé tone about her nature, as if the entire spectacle is borderline boring. Harry being a fucking moron at the most random, uncalled-for time is nothing she hasn’t dealt with before.

She studies him with half-lidded eyes as the demon waves the spoon around dramatically, pitching his voice into a deep, congested baritone, making it sound as if the mere act of breathing is painful. He begins spewing a quote that practically every living person in the world knows, arching and contorting his body to fit the description of the character he’s embodying. “‘Harry Potter…the boy who lived…has come to die…’”

Y/N rolls her eyes at his idiotic antics, sighing once more through her nose as she interprets the scene he’s putting on for the sake of his own childishness (and if she’s mildly amused and slightly endeared, that’s no one’s business but her own). “Harry—”

Harry suddenly juts his arm out towards her wildly, a thin rod of red lightning suddenly materializing out of the end of the spoon, aimed directly at her. “Avada kedavera!”

The harnessed electricity strikes the angel square across the backside, which causes her to yelp in surprise. The shock of the bolt (pun unintended, for petty intents and purposes) sends her into a state of adrenalin-induced panic, causing her to clutch her ass out of protective instinct as she jumps a few feet to the left, keen on avoiding another possible attack. The current had been quick and practically harmless, given her enhanced strength and resistance— the equivalent of a hand buzzer, really— so she’s not hurt or indisposed in any way, but that doesn’t discredit the immediate flush of aggravation it brings to her chest the moment the initial fright wears off.

An irritated growl rips from her throat as she pins her gaze back onto her boyfriend, who is currently keeled over in evil delight, laughing maniacally as he clings to his stomach with one hand and wipes tears from the corners of his eyes with the other. His face has been restored to its usual modelesque state, and the cocky glint across his refined features only makes her want to throttle him even more. He’s such a fucking menace.

Y/N balls her fists at her sides to try and dampen her temper, but his continuous snickering and the arrogance swirling throughout the jade around his pupils is amping her desire for revenge. She slowly unwinds her fingers, feeling strings of barely-contained energy begin to dance across the tips of each one. She glowers at Harry daringly, waiting for him to finally calm down enough to respond to the unspoken challenge present in her stance.

Once he’s finally managed to cap his giggles— though a few chuckles still manage to escape here and there— his sight pans down to where her digits are sparking off like a bonfire, the bursting embers reflecting off the black droplets scattered across his irises. A mischievous smirk carves his dimples into his flushed cheeks, and he lifts his eyes to lock on her own, one of his sculpted brows kinking upwards in a self-assured manner. “Aw, did I light a fuse?”

“You’re about to find out.”

“By all means! Love it when you put me in my place.”

#demon!harry

[parkjimin1010smuts]

Breaking Point || Kth

Summary: Taehyung reveals just how he deals with his stress to his best friend y/n and late one night y/n reaches her breaking point and decides to put Taehyungs tactic to the test, but there is a slight problem she has no one to help her out, or does she?

Warnings: daddy kink, overstimulation, thigh riding, virgin reader, multiple orgasms, fingerings, unprotected sex (yalls stay safe out there though this is just a fanfic), dom tae, sub reader, pwp. Enjoy!!

An elbow nudging into the side of your ribcage pulled you back into the conscious realm. A slight gasp leaves your mouth as you jerked your head back up. Now who the hell thought it was the perfect moment to need your attention.

You gathered your surroundings haphazardly, a subtle frown settling upon your face as you realized just who it was, Kim Taehyung. “Morning princess, I almost thought you’d never wake up,” his velvety voice mocked.

Turning towards Taehyung, the frown on your face only deepened, a small sound of annoyance escaping you. With your eyes now in his direction you unintendedly began to check him out. The cluster of blonde hair that was normally nestled peacefully was a disheveled mess exposing his forehead. His plump cheeks were pushed up due to the goofy grin he had plastered on his face nearly concealing his chocolate brown eyes that were now mere crescent moons. I had to admit he had a very attractive smile, reminiscent of a box.

His body was clad in a pair of black slacks that clung beautifully against his muscular thighs leaving very little to the imagination. His caramel chest peeked at me from the confines of the loose summer shirt he wore. I was brought back to reality when the view of his chest was suddenly obscured by the change in his position as he was now bent over packing his things. Releasing I heavy sigh I began to mirror his actions before throwing my bag over my shoulder and making a beeline straight to the double doors. In true Taehyung fashion he was right on my tail, trailing me like the faithful guard dog he pretends to be.

You and Taehyung  have been best friends now for over 15 years, you both met in the early years of preschool and by the grace of the angels above you have not been separated ever since. Through thick and thin, trials and tribulations, Taehyung has been there every step of the way. Everything you have experienced so has he, that’s how close you two are and, in all honesty, you wouldn’t have it any other way with any other person. 

This closeness however was more often than not met with questioning glances and needless two cent comments, most of them romance related. But Taehyung was always so quick to shut them down with a little more fervor and enthusiasm than you would deem necessary.  It was clear to you that Taehyung simply had no interest in you romantically, and you understood. Who cared if you had a tini, tiny crush on him. Not you that’s for sure.

But I mean it was inevitable, the man who was now glued to you side in a steady march that matched your own was a literal god send. He was loyal, attractive and physically in shape. What more was there to ask for.

“What’s up with you lately, every time I see you you’re either lethargic or in one hell of a mood.” My best friend voiced before abruptly coming to a halt in front of his black pick up.

“Nothing I’ve just been up studying for finals and the stress Is finally getting to me I guess,” you say through clenched teeth. You really do feel like you're reaching your breaking point and seeing how well put together Taehyung just riles you up even further. Its really not fair, we are in the same course, the same exams, the same workloads and yet there he is basking in his ethereal beauty, fair skin with no signs of exertion. While you on the other hand are left to wallow in the deep dark bags that have taken residence beneath your forever dropping eyes. Don’t even get me started on the acne that picks the absolutely best moments to choose your face as their next canvas, please note the sarcasm.

Allowing your curiosity to surface you voice the question that has been eating at you for quite some time now, “How do you do it?” Taehyung shots a quick glance your way before reverting his attention back to the bustling road before us but the slight dip of his eyebrows was enough for you to know he wants you to elaborate.

With a deep breath you laid everything that had been forming a cluster in your mind out on the table for Taehyung to digest. When you was through with your mini rant session an eerie silence danced between you two for a good minute before Taehyung finally released a hearty chuckle. With his head thrown back and eyes closed from the intensity of his smile he was unable to see the way your face twisted in confusion.

“You think I’m ethereal?” Of course, that was the only thing his pea sized brain was able to pick. Suppressing all the swear words you had an indescribable urge to throw his way you simply rolled your eyes while sinking further into the leather car seat.

“I release my stress through other things.” He finally said after calming himself.

“Other things,” you said with a raise of my eyebrow. 

“Yeah, other things, or more specifically sex.” your eyes grow tenfold as you choke on your saliva. Sex?! Should this really have been a surprise to you, I mean he’s young healthy and oh just look at him.

However it still does nothing to subside the slight blush you feel creeping up your neck as you avert your eyes to your lap. While he was indeed your best friend and things not discussed between the two of you were few and far between, one thing he never seemed to ask you about was your sex life. Not that there was much to ask about in the first place. You were a virgin, not entirely from lack of trying but still a virgin none the less.

“Oh,” that was the only logical response your mind could muster given the circumstances.

“Oh,” Taehyung retorted as he maneuvered the car to rest in his driveway. Choosing to remain silent you purse your lips into a thin line, you refuse to falter, even when he turns his body to allow his eyes to have unlimited access to scrutinize you with their chocolate depths. The car suddenly feels so hot or maybe that’s just your face which is now beet red.

“What’s with your reaction y/n,” Taehyung presses fully failing to read the room, or car in this situation.

You have never had any problems confiding in Taehyung but for some reason you feel embarrassed to mention that you're still in fact a 23 year old virgin, especially after he just shared details of his very thriving sex life.

The silence drags on for a good three minutes and knowing your best friend you know there is no way he will ever give in and so you cave. “I’m a virgin, okay. There, are you happy now,” you hastily say with an exasperated sigh. Choosing to save yourself from the snarky remarks you know are about to flow like a river from your best friend you hurriedly make your way out of the confines of his car. You mentally curse the universe as you see we are in fact parked outside his apartment complex and any thoughts you had of fleeing the scene are disintegrated in mere seconds. As if adding fuel to the flame the sound of the car door sounds as Taehyung makes his way out of his car and round to my side.

“Please save it, I’m really not in the mood for your bullshit right now,” you cut him off before he can even part his lips. “Hey what’s wrong with you. Did you seriously think I would judge you just because you chose to keep it locked up.” you simply avert your gaze as his words settled in your head.

“Hey look at me, your virginity is nothing to be ashamed of okay, I’m sorry if I made you feel that way, but you know me better than that. You know I would never shame you for anything so insignificant.” The tone of his voice was calm and collected and shame suddenly washed over you from the way you had jumped the gun. You never realised how your reaction could have been perceived, Taehyung was always so understanding and here you were assuming only the worst of him.

Deciding not to push the conversation any further you simply lowered your head in embarrassment before heaving a sigh. You've been doing that a lot lately. Being the attentive best friend that he is Taehyung was quick to pick up on my signals and thankfully refrained from pushing the topic any further. A silence soon settled between us before Taehyung laced his fingers around your own before leading you back to his car.

“I’m gonna take you home and you just get some rest okay,” The soft nature of his voice just made you feel worse while simultaneously lifting your mood.

~•~•~☆~•~•~☆~•~•~☆~•~•~☆~•~•~☆~•~•

Yet again a frown had found its way onto your face as you stared at the clock that ticked away on your bedside table. It was just past 2am and yet the lights in your room were still on casting shadows over the immense paperwork clustered all over your bedsheets. Yet another sleepless night with your only companion being a cup of coffee made with  three sugars and a gallon of stress.

Grabbing the cup of steaming goodness you throw your head back as you allow the bitter taste to maneuverer its way into your body with hopes of getting your systems back on high alert. You put down the coffee with a soft clang so it’s now adjacent to the ticking demon that serves as a constant reminder of how shit you have it right now.

Fighting the urge to scream you plunge face first into your numerous worksheets. This was it, you had finally reached your breaking point, the tears that stung the corners of your eyes served as confirmation.

Just as you were about to succumb to the severity of it all and just allow yourself to scream and cry to your hearts content a certain blonde haired box smiled adorning goof crossed your mind. Or more specifically a certain conversation shared between the two of you.

Sex.

You felt tingly sensations dance through your veins as the solution to all your problems was now just in front of you. However this feeling of euphoria was only short lived as not long after you realised there wasn’t a single person you could ask for help. Well there was that one guy you met during spring break, but your relationship came to a rocky end as he bumped heads with Taehyung over your relationship with him. He had accused you of slutting around with Taehyung and the man in question did not take lightly to his words. Lets just say his name is most definitely off the table, and so is my relief plan seeing as he is your only ex. Pathetic I know, no need to remind me.

You run your fingers across your laptop giving it a contemplative tap, while trying your hardest to push the most obvious solution to your problem to the back of your head. There was no way you could call him. Seriously, there was no plausible or conceivable scenario in which you went to your best friend, pleading for him to lend you his body to get off. You brought your hands to your face, a shriek of embarrassment escaping you at the mere idea.

This was the guy who had seen you at your worst, stumbling into your apartment with puke all over yourself when you were going through your hard liquor phase freshman year of college. There's no way he'd be interested in having sex with the girl he spent many nights holding her hair back as she hurled into her toilet.

No.

You couldn’t ask Taehyung to partake in such an activity with you. Absolutely not.

No way.

~¤~¤~♡~¤~¤~♡~¤~¤~♡~¤~¤~♡~¤~¤~♡

The creaking of your apartment door sent you five feet into the air as the reality of the situation sinfully settled in your brain and the nerves were finally kicking in.

“Taehyung,” you whirled around to face him as his gaze zeroed in as you  shifted your body from one foot to the other, a tendency you displayed whenever nervous. You couldn't fight down the heat that was creeping up your neck as he stepped into your apartment, eyeing you cautiously as he slipped off his shoes.

“Hey is anything wrong, you sounded really anxious on the phone.”

“What, me, I’m perfectly fine!” You responded forcibly, the enthusiasm in your voice misplaced, given the nature of the conversation.

Taehyung simply nodded back at you, not noticing the awkward timber of your words or otherwise not minding. "Well if nothings wrong why'd you call me over to your place at 2am?" He inquired, like the wonderfully kind best friend he was. You pressed your lips together.

"About that, do you remember how you said you use sex as an outlet for your stress in order to maintain a level head, well would you mind having sex with me as I’m a pathetic excuse of a human who has no one else to turn to for my sexual needs." Oh god, there was no way you could ask that. Taehyung was your best friend, and that would be too unbearably awkward. What the hell were you thinking?

“Well i wanted to watch the conjuring 3 again and I remembered that you hadn’t watched it yet so what better time than now?” You swallowed uneasily, a gesture that unfortunately didn’t go unnoticed by your best friend. Your eyes nearly fell out of your head as the man of the hour suddenly took a step towards you, his eyes unmoving on your face.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?" His tone was suddenly low and severe, eyes running all over your burning face as he searched for any physical ailment. There was something off about you, he realized. He wasn't sure what it was, but he could make out how your form was trembling, your eyes wide in panic.

“Do you want to have sex with me.” You reflexively shut your eyes as you allowed the weight if your words to hang heavy between the two of you it's only competitor being the unbearable silence that lingered in the air not long after. You could hear every inhale and exhale of the tall man that stood opposite you. Every passing second of silence made you regret your words and just as you were about to play it all of as a joke and retract your prior request a pair of soft lips pressed gently against your own stopping you right in your tracks.

Just as suddenly as it happened it came to an end. You could feel something stirring in your chest , the feeling of his lips on yours lingered, radiating heat like an old burn. You turned towards him and the look in his eyes nearly knocked the breath out of you, there was a dark sheen to them, one you had never seen. It was intimidating and attractive all the same, the fire in your belly igniting like never before. Before you could even think to stop yourself, you grabbed the collars of his shirt and pulled him down to you before taking his lips with your own.

In no time at all the kiss got heated as tongue and teeth were thrown into the mix. You feel his tongue explore the darkest depths of your  mouth as you fight back the need for air. His tongue reluctantly leaves your mouth all before licking a stripe across my bottom lip before his teeth bite down on it, hard but not enough to draw blood. You let out a whimper as his teeth finally released your lip.

There was a shift in the room, Taehyung could sense it. He knew exactly what you wanted and fuck if he didn't want the same thing. His entire body was on edge, he could hear every heavy exhale you pushed past your parted lips. "You're a virgin." The whine that came from you in response was low. "I don't want this to be something you regret in the morning.  I can't promise I'll be gentle." He licked his lips.

"Please, I just… just this once," Your words were soft and pleading, the sound of your thighs pressing together in search of relief filling Taehyungs ears. "I need you." He could see your hard nipples pressing against the thin material of your white shirt. They were distracting him, and thoughts of his hands cupping your breasts over your shirts, rubbing your cloth-covered nipple between his fingers, corrupted his mind. How easy it could've been for him to cave right then and there.

Your voice was small and dripping in submission. He felt like he was suffocating in the small space you called your living room. Fuck. He felt himself stiffen in his shorts. You were breathing heavily now, hands trembling as you fought the urge to throw yourself against Taehyung and bury your face into his neck. The mere thought of his skin against yours caused your whole body to shudder in want. When did you become like this. Your thoughts and actions almost made you seem unrecognisable but with the heat of the moment you couldn’t careless. You wanted this and how you wished Taehyung would stop being the gentleman he was and just fuck you already.

Taehyung was already heading towards you as he heeded his last warning, "Do you understand? I need to hear your answer."

“Oh god Taehyung just fuck me already!”  you hurriedly said followed by a deep exhale.

Without wasting another second Taehyung plopped himself onto your mustard couch before pulling you onto him. The sudden movement caused you to straddle one of his meaty thighs which had you quivering as your pussy throbbed from the sudden stimulation.  When you finally got comfortable you pulled the shirt over your head quickly, hands coming to fondle your own breasts, desperate for any skin contact.

You let out a cry as Taehyungs palms found the skin of your hips, urging you to grind against his thigh. You whined rocking back against his thigh. “Mm please Tae, I need your cock,” your own words surprised you.

"Hmm? You seem to be doing just fine without me, though." He cocked his head at you, hand coming up to smack the side of your thigh. A sharp moan fell from you, fingers tugging at your nipple as your hips sped up. Then, to your sweet relief, Taehyungs mouth found one of your breasts, taking no hesitation in pulling the hard bud into his mouth. You threw an arm over his shoulder, fingers floundering as they attempted to find anchorage on his sweat-soaked skin. Your other hand reached out to touch his abdomen, preening as his muscles flexed beneath your fingers.

He pulled away from your breast with a loud pop sound. Smirking up at you as your eyes began to flutter shut, he watched in amusement as your orgasm caught up with you quickly, a result of your heightened sensitivity and inexperience. He would have to teach you later how to refrain from Cumming so quickly.

"Fuck, oh god Taehyung" You cried into his shoulder, body jerking as you came unravelled. Taehyung couldn't help but let out a whine of his own, palming over his crotch as he watched you ride out your orgasm. Although he would never admit it the way his name fell from your lips like honey had his cock twitching in his now too tight jeans. " Taehyung, please." You panted once you had caught your breath, bringing your face up to his. “Fuck me" you managed to pant out without breaking eye contact. Thus lead to Taehyung  unconsciously letting out a groan.

"Is that what my pretty girl wants? Want daddy to fill you up, sweetheart?" The intimate pet name escaping him before he could think otherwise. It should have been no surprise to you that Taehyung had a daddy kink. Nonetheless you could feel a new wave of wetness staining his jeans from the pet name, from daddy, right down to the way his thigh was still flexing underneath your heat. It was all too much, you could feel your senses going into over drive.

"Yes daddy, fuck. Fuck me deep and hard until I'm stuffed with your cum.” You breathed into his neck. Taehyung was going to fucking explode. Every damn word you spoke went straight to his groin, his painfully hard cock straining against his Jean’s fabric. And with that in mind, he flipped you over, pushing your legs up into your chest so that he could see your clenched cunt fully exposed for him.

“You don't have any idea what you fucking do to me, do you? I'm so fucking hard for you, and I haven't even felt that lovely pussy of yours." He growled, his fingers coming down to circle your entrance. You didn't even have time to contemplate a response before his fingers rolled over your sensitive bud. His fingers felt so different to yours – your jaw slack as a silent sob fell out, his light but quick motions sending your back arching. Wrapping a hand against his wrist, you groaned, the feeling nearly overwhelming but still too good to pull him away.

Taehyung cursed as your hand came down to rub against the his cock still retrained by his jeans, the small action just gentle enough to have his hips jerking into you. He felt painfully hard and he feared if you didn’t stop he would bust a load right in his pants. His skilful hands were soon lost to his belt as he hurriedly worked to get rid of the only clothing left separating your bodies. "Gonna make a mess of this wet little pussy, okay? Let me know if you want me to stop." Were Taehyungs final words as he pressed himself inside you, hand reaching over to take yours into his.

A cry left you, eyebrows furrowing together as your head fell back, leaving Taehyung breathing heavily through his nose, jaw tense as he fought back a growl. The urge to sink his teeth into your sweat glistened neck was too much to resist and so he bent down and began showering hickeys over the canvas that was your neck.

The stretch stung a bit but he was able to easily slide into you thanks to your prior orgasm and the help of his fingers. You felt full and content, it was such an overwhelming feeling that when he bottomed out and his groin came in contact with your clit you came for the second time.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head you let out a loud moan that had you hiding your face in embarrassment. You could feel the hot breath of Taehyung as he chuckled from his position nestled between your breasts. After deciding you had had enough time to get accustomed to his size Taehyung pulled out almost completely before sliding back into you. You let out a whine as he bottomed out inside you, watching as his expression changed into a lewd one with your walls clamping around his fat cock. "How's that, baby?" You could only moan in response, nails digging into his back as he began to rock himself into you, entirely obsessed with the way your body was readjusting itself as he moved inside you. It was like your body knew exactly what to do, despite the sensation being otherwise strange.

Your fingers found your clit immediately, knowing that this was exactly how you wanted to cum, dripping down the couch and stretched out around  Taehyungs cock. "So big. Feels so good." You mumbled, your hair cascading around you as his pace quickened, fucking you hard and deep.

You let out an incoherent whimper, shuddering as Taehyungs thrusts into you deepened, spurred on by the way you continously moaned his name submissively. Your thighs felt wet and slick, the combined mixture of both yours and Taehyungs arousal dripping down onto them. You felt filthy and dirty and you were loving every second of it.

You could feel all your stress diminishing right before your eyes with every thrust of his hips. You felt elated, almost as though you were in another dimension, oh how you didn’t want this moment to come to an end. "My pretty little girl. You're making an absolute mess on my dick, isn't that right?"

"Yes, Daddy." You sobbed, body more than ready to succumb to your third orgasm of the night. "Such a good girl." He praised, a hand coming up to squeeze one of your supple tits. Your fingers found your abused clit once more. You circled around it liberally, the familiar euphoric feeling creeping up on you once more. "My sweet little girl. My precious girl." He cooed into your mouth, earning him an appreciative moan.

He was so close, fuck. “Cum in me daddy, I want you to come in me,” you whimpered desperately all in hopes of finally pushing him over the edge. And it seemed to have done the trick because with a final thrust he nestled himself deep within your warmth, a string of groans and curses tumbling out his mouth as he emptied his load into you. His release was the final push you needed to reach your most intense orgasm of the night. You shamelessly screamed as your back arched off the sofa and your body writhed in overstimulation.

"Fuck, fuck. I love you, holy shit, I love you." He peppered your face with kisses, breath shaky. Whether he let that slip due to the heat of the moment or whether those were his genuine feelings he had kept bottled up within him much like you, you chose to just revel in the moment stress free. "I love you more." You sighed adoringly, revelling in such an intimate gesture from him.

Thank you so much for reading 💜

#bts #bts taehyung #taehyung smut #kpop smut #hot daddy #oneshots

[nightowlfandom]

Yandere! Corrupt Angel! Keigo Takami X Demon! Reader- Episode 2/3: The Same Side Of A Coin

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

READ PART 1 HERE!

SMUUUUUUTTT

Leggo

...

You stopped by a nearby lake. You hastily unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the ground. Without thinking, you jumped in the ice cold water. You splashed water on your face, feeling the sharp, needle like coldness sooth your aching skin.

“Fuck-” you felt the tearS sting your eyes as you squeezed your legs together. Why the fuck did you feel this way. You felt unstable, ready to release your wrath on anyone who crossed your path.  You heaved yourself out of the lake, the water dripping down your aching body. The wind felt good, cooling off your skin. 

“Much better.” you sighed. With the snap of your fingers, your body was fully dry, hair back in it style and jewelry in their respective places. You picked your dress back off the floor and slipped it back on. Just as you pulled the fabric over yoruy eyes, you saw Keigo standing in front of you.

“HOLY SHI-” you were so taken aback, you stumbled backwards, right back into the water.

“FUCK!” Keigo tried to grab your hand only to miss his own footing and plummet into the water himself. You both made a huge splash, and a lot of noise. 

“YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME.” you splashed him angrily. “WHY WERE YOU SNEAKING UP ON ME!”

“I wasn’t, I swear! I wanted to check on you! Hey! STOP SPLASHING ME!”

“MAKE ME!” you shouted angrily. You splashed him even more. 

You felt him grab the both of your hands and pin them to your sides. His hands tightened around your wrists as he held you in place. 

“When will you learn not to question your superiors.” he spoke in a low guttural voice. Your breath hitched in your throat, hearing this new side of him. His eyes had gone completely black and his halo had vanished. “What? Never seen an angel in his true form before?”

“Huh?” you began to tremble. “T-true form.”

“You think those white veils, and silver wings are real?...Think again, doll. We only dress like that so those little followers don’t mistake Sky Daddy for Ground Daddy.” he smirked, revealing sharp fang like teeth. “This is what a real, high priest angel looks like. Unlike them, I’m not afraid to be real. A low level like you would never understand.”

You were scared, you’d admit it. Part of you wanted to cry for your demon brothers and sisters to save you. To call the Dark One to get you out of there and back into your room in the palace. “My apologies.”

“...Your apologies, what?...Use formalities when speaking to me, low level.”

“My apologies, High Priest Keigo.” you growled through gritted teeth. In a fit of strength you yanked yourself away from Keigo, stepping back. “Please forgive me.”

“I might.” he suddenly turned back into his ‘normal’ self. “If you tell me why you left me to your demon friends to explain why you were acting so strange.”

“I don’t know, alright?” you heaved yourself out the water. “...It happens a lot. I get hot..my vision turns pink sometimes...I feel...things.” you stammered. 

“I would assume that’s how lust demons get their energy...” Keigo got out the water too, taking off his suit jacket. “Did no one tell you that?” he began to unbutton his shirt.

“No...” You shook your head bashfully. “They said that I didn’t need to worry...that’d they’d help me be prepared for it.”

“Well you’re doing a fine job.” One glare was enough to shut him up. “Kidding.” he put his hands up in defense. 

“I don’t know the first thing about being a lust demon. I was a horny ass bitch when I was alive, but taking souls from men through sex is something I don’t think I can do!” you rana hand through your wet hair. “I’ve never even head GOOD sex before-”

“Woah pause...the reason you’re in hell is because you were too lustful...and you’re telling me the fucking wasn’t even good?” he discarded his wet shirt onto the ground with his blazer.  

“Well...No.” you were suddenly ashamed. As a future lust demon, you only had the next few hundred years to train. That was gonna take a while. “Like I said I used it to replace my pain. I didn’t say that I was the one getting the pleasure...”

Keigo stared you down. You looked completely different, like a water spirit. You didn’t notice but your dress was completely see-thru now. The way the sheer fabric clung to your skin was...sexy as hell. Keigo found it hard to be able to leave you to such thoughts now. He felt something course through him.

“Well, back there...you sure looked like you enjoyed touching me. I saw the smile when I grabbed your hand.” he darted his tongue out to run across his bottom lip.

“So what are we gonna do, have sex?”

“No.” he simply said. “I’m going to fuck you. I’ve going to fuck the color out of those sparkling eyes. I’m gonna fuck whatever innocence is left out of of you until no thoughts of humanity are left. I wanna make those horns grow...sexy girl.”

“B-but you’re an angel-”

‘I’m no fucking angel, doll.” he cut you off with a laugh. “Those freaks put me up there for ‘good behavior’ in my past but I never wanted to be good. I never wanted to be a hero...I’m corurpt, princess.” he snarled. “Let me corrupt that pretty mind. Go rogue with me, Y/N baby. Who else but a high priest to teach you everything you need to know.” he said in a babyish voice.

You found your back against a tree. You were feeling...things. Had you been human you would have been sprayed with holy water and locked in a closet. As a demon, you didn’t know HOW to feel. Keigo waltzed up to you.

“I kinda wanna kiss you...do you wanna kiss me, low level?” he bit his lip. He slowly leaned down to the point where his mouth was barely ghosting above yours. “Just say the word...and I could be your first as a new demon...well...your only after tonight.” he chuckled. “Just say it. Yes or No.”

“Do it...” you found yourself saying. “P-please?” you looked up at Keigo. You had the gaze of a whore. Keigo could read it like a book. You were drenched in sin. Bathed in it. 

“Hm.” his hand creeped up the slit of your dress, rest on your bare thigh. “I should ask you to pray to me...ask me to forgive you for being so rude to me.”

“I’d never ask you forgiveness.” you heard yourself say in a bratty tone.

“Ah ah ah~” he sang. “That defiant spirit...I’ll need to break that.” he bit his lip. “But first...hmm.” He tilted your head up with his fingertips and laid a gentle kiss against your mouth. “Don’t be rude...open up for me.” Keigo abruptly shoved his tongue through the little gap in your mouth. He grabbed a fist full of your wet hair to keep you in place.

“Hmm.” your breath hitched in your throat. Keigo balled up the fabric of your dress in his fist, growling in anticipation. He couldn’t remember the last time he got laid, let alone fucked with anyone. He drank your lust like it was wine, tasting the sin on your tongue.

RIIIIIPPP a new slit was torn into your dress. (Read more below the break)

...

“You owe me a new gown. You assho-MMF” he covered your mouth with his again, this time pressing his body flush against yours. You could feel his groin against you. It was happening again, your vision turned pink. ”K-keigo, we could get caught.”

“Let them watch.” he snapped. “I don’t fucking care.” he snorted. “I’m getting to fuck such a pretty girl. Me. The Rejected Angel.” he rolled his hips against yours. “Where are my manners?” he stopped his movements. “Maybe I should teach you how this worshipping thing works.” he smirked, lowering himself to his knees. “First you do this...”

“What are you-”

“Then you do THIS-” he tore the waistband of your panties. The remaining fabric of your dress was pushed back. “Oh look at that. What a pretty little, flower. I can’t wait to defile it.” he spoke in that same babyish voice. You stared down at Keigo. Your thoughts were flooded like a dam ready to break. You felt his fingers trace circles in your thigh. His lips ghosted over your inner thigh, getting dangerously close to your heat. 

“Are you sure we should-aaah~” you felt his tongue trace up your slit. ‘Fuuuh~” you shuddered. He grabbed your leg and hooked it over his shoulder, burying his tongue deeper into your pussy. “Keig-aah~” you whined. 

“That’s right baby. No more thinking.” he chuckled between sloppy open mouth kisses to your clit. “Be a lusty demon, be a little minx for me. Moan louder, let the dark one hear how good you’re settling into your new role as my lusty little slut.” he cooed. “Or should I say...how I’m settling into my new role as your corrupt angel.”

Without thinking, you ran your hands through his hair, grinding yourself against his mouth. You looked down and saw his muscles flex and contort, like he was going crazy. 

“I could do this all day.” he spat. “And I fucking will.” he drove his tongue back into your slit again. You watched the water drip off his wings and glistened with the natural moonlight above you two. You felt his slender fingers slip inside you, slowly and rhythmically pumping in and out of your wetness. 

“Fuck! I can’t take it.” you whined. ‘I’m gonna- fuuucck! I need to cum.” you stopped yourself. “Keigo whatever you do, please don’t stop.”

Your words only case the angel to speed up. He moaned against your pussy. He sucked at your clit. He could tell you were going to cum soon, and cum fast. He tore his mouth away from your heat, making you writhe, gasp, and whine.

“If you’re gonna cum, it’s gonna be all over this dick.” he growled, standing to his feet. “Fuck, I wanted you to suck me off so bad but you need this. I need this.” he fumbled with his belt buckle. “Fuck, come here!” he moaned. 

He hook his arms around your legs and hoisted you off the ground. You felt the tip of his cock tease your slit, covering his length in your juices.

“Fun fact, Y/N...did you know that the cum from beings like us has an aphrodisiacal effect. We could fuck for hours and hours and never get tired, never feel satisfied.” he moaned into your ear. “Fuuuck~” 

You felt his cock head pierce your entrance (weirdest word...ever). 

“I can already feel the lust from that sexy little brain begin to take over. Let it consume you. Take what you want from me...” he shuddered, inching himself deep into you. “Y/N~” he buried his head into your shoulder. “Come on, tighten that pussy around me while I bury it into you.” he snarled.

You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his neck to keep yourself steady as he thrust into your sopping wetness. The lewd sounds of skin hitting skin and liquid dripping down your legs. Surely someone knew what you were up to at this point.

“I can feel it, I can feel you.” he sucked in a harsh breath. “Fuck! I’m gonna-”

Keigo gasp as he watched your eyes glazed over. You grabbed a fistful of his hair. he felt your fangs graze his neck. Your lust was taking over. Good. He wanted to coax out more. You sunk your fangs into his skin and Keigo gasped in intense pleasure. So much so that his thrusts grew more heavy and sloppy. 

“Yes, use your power. SHIT!” Keigo snarled, his voice low and guttural.

What was this feeling? Is this was the other lust demons were talking about when they said it would feel as good as it did?

“Keigo~” you whined. “I’m gonna-...I wanna-”

“Cum, cum on this dick! Cum all over my cock. Be corrupt with me.” he moaned, throwing his head back in ecstasy.

You felt Keigo spill himself into you as you came for him. He was still thrusting himself into you. You were a moaning mess at this point. 

“Shit...” he groaned once he calmed down. “Damnit Y/N what are you doing to me?”

‘What are you doing to me?”

#anime x reader #anime imagines #anime scenarios #anime headcanons #anime x reader imagines #anime x reader scenarios #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #bnha hawks #bnha keigo #mha au #bnha au #nightowlfandom #fan fic #smut #smut imagines #hawks smut #hawks lemons #bnha lemon #keigo lemons #keigo takami lemon #keigo takami smut #keigo takami bnha #hawks x reader imagines #x reader #imagines #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami au

[thephantomessoftheopera]

Notes on Gaston Leroux‘s „The Phantom of the Opera“ - Chapter 27: „End of the Ghost‘s Love Story“

Artwork by @flaviamarquesart

<< Previous chapter

“End of the Ghost’s Love Story” is the most powerful chapter in the novel, because it reveals the full extent of Erik’s love for Christine. It is also the one that makes the story truly extraordinary, because it redeems his character and lifts him above the level of a gothic villain, who is usually defeated and punished in the end. This is why he is generally considered a “Byronic Hero” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Byronic_hero). The Byronic hero is a complex, often tragic form of romantic anti-hero who is generally more villain than traditional hero, but who has at least one redeeming quality (usually connected to love) which makes him a sympathetic figure despite his flaws and/or crimes. The character type was created by the English poet Lord Byron in his works such as “The Corsair” and “Don Juan”, and became extremely popular in the 19th century. Except for his looks, Erik fits that classic character type in almost all other aspects (highly intelligent, tortured, violent, ruthless, manipulative and driven by an all-consuming passion).

The chapter’s title also makes it clear that the whole thing is a love story at its core - everything in the novel happened because Erik fell in love with Christine. It is, and has always been, the story of Erik’s love - he is the one character we follow up until the end.

The final chapter is narrated by Leroux again, but it draws on what the Persian supposedly told him when he went to visit him in his flat in the rue de Rivoli. When the Persian wakes up after losing consciousness in the water, he and Raoul are resting in the Louis-Philippe room, and Erik and Christine are taking care of them. Raoul has already woken up before the Persian, and is now asleep again.

The room itself astounds the Persian in how ordinary and old-fashioned it looks, and how much it contrasts with Erik’s general appearance (remember that the Persian had never been in Erik’s house before). Erik explains to him that the furniture once belonged to his mother, which explains why the style is so different from his bedroom, which is decidedly more „Erik“. The Persian also wonders why Christine, who is moving silently through the room and then sitting down beside the fireplace, ignores both Raoul and himself when tries to call her. The Persian believes that Christine is reading “The Imitation of Christ”, which is significant and which I will come back to a little later. The “opposites” theme is also present in this scene again, describing Erik’s figure as black and a demon, and Christine’s as white and an angel. The Persian finally falls asleep again.

When he wakes for the second time, Erik has already delivered him back to his flat according to the promise he made to “his wife”. The Persian immediately sends to find out what happened to Raoul, and learns that Raoul has disappeared and that Philippe’s body has been found on the shore of the lake under the opera house. The Persian has no doubt that Philippe was drowned by Erik (or “the siren”), and decides to denounce him to the police. However, his testimony is ridiculed, and he - like Raoul - is taken for a lunatic. The Persian then decides to write everything down and later hands his manuscript to Leroux (which is what we’ve been reading in these last chapters).

When he has finished writing his account down, Erik comes to visit him. He is clearly unwell and described as weak, leaning against the wall and “pale as a sheet”. The Persian accuses him of murdering Philippe and wants to know what happened to Raoul and Christine, whether they are dead or alive. Erik denies murdering Philippe, but the Persian doesn’t believe him. We don’t really know the truth though, so the “murder mystery” has no definite resolution and turns into more of a side note.

Erik tells the Persian that he is about to “die of love” for Christine. As I’ve mentioned before, I believe that the most likely physical cause of his death would really be the gunshot that Raoul fired at him, and a possible infection following that injury which would lead to his precarious state of health as seen in this chapter. This could metaphorically also be described as “dying of love” (because he wouldn’t have caught that bullet if he hadn’t been in love).

After turning the scorpion, Christine begged him to save Raoul, and she had already offered before to accept his proposal if he gave her the key to the torture chamber, but Erik did not care then, because he did not believe her. But when she swears to him that she will become his “living wife”, it‘s different as he finally sees in her eyes what he has been hoping to see - Christine’s genuine commitment. She means to go through with her promise and is accepting him as her husband at that moment - and this is why her commitment is powerful enough to break through to him.

According to their agreement, Erik takes the Persian aboveground, but since Raoul probably wouldn’t agree to leave, Erik drugs him and locks him up in the dungeon beneath the fifth cellar. Then he returns to Christine, who stands calmly waiting for him. Erik suddenly feels “shyer than a little child” as he approaches Christine, but she does not back away from him. He tenderly kisses her forehead and is overwhelmed with how good it feels to kiss her, as no woman has ever allowed him to, not even his mother. Christine even leans into his touch a little, and remains close to him after the kiss, „as if it were perfectly natural“.

Fear and disgust are very powerful, primal emotions, but Christine‘s feelings for Erik are strong enough to overcome both. Considering that no one, not even the Persian, was able to even look at Erik’s face without horror, I feel that Christine must have cared very deeply for him, as she allows his kiss without fear and without recoiling from him at all, even after everything he has put her through.

He falls at her feet and starts crying of happiness, and seeing his tears, Christine starts to cry as well. Erik tears off his mask so that he won’t lose any of her tears on his skin, and still Christine shows no sign of horror or disgust. And she doesn’t only allow him to touch her, but she also touches him of her own free will and takes his hand, saying “poor, unhappy Erik”. I feel that this is the moment when the full expanse of his life’s tragedy truly hits her. She is not only the first woman, but the first person in his entire life to treat him with tenderness and acceptance.

Gratitude and love for her overwhelm him and make him realize that he has forced her choice. He puts the gold wedding ring into her hand, setting her free and telling her that he knows she loves Raoul and that she is free to go and marry him whenever she pleases. He „calmly cuts his heart to pieces“ and puts her happiness before his own in this final expression of true love and sacrifice. For as damaged as he was, the ending proves that Erik truly loved Christine because his love is ultimately selfless. There is also no bitterness in his feelings towards Christine after she leaves - he has always loved her, and still continues to love her. He still feels protective of her: “I’d better not hear that anyone has touched a single hair on her head!” Christine gave him “all the happiness in the world”, and he is grateful to her for this gift. His love for her redeems him as a character and proves to be his moral compass - before, he considered himself “outside the human race” and therefore not bound by common moral values.

In the previous chapter, Christine is shown reading what the Persian believes to be “The Imitation of Christ”. I don’t think that is a coincidence, and I also believe that the name “Christine” was perhaps even chosen for her on purpose (she was originally named Pauline, according to Leroux’s manuscript). Christine becomes a “Christ figure” here in two ways: through her sacrifice, she saves the lives of Raoul, the Persian and everyone in the Opera. But she also offers acceptance and love to a sinner, an outcast who has been shunned by society - and this is an extremely powerful gesture. She possessed the strength necessary to see Erik as a human being, and that is what sets her apart from everyone else. Her love here transcends the realm of romantic love and becomes almost divine - all-encompassing, forgiving, healing.

Christine may superficially fit the traditional image of a “damsel in distress”, but the would-be hero who was coming to rescue her didn’t get very far, nor could he do anything to save her. The only hero who saved Christine was Christine herself - and she also saved everyone else: Raoul, the Persian, everyone in the Opera, and Erik. Both Christine and Erik show incredible bravery in this chapter: Christine‘s bravery shows in her truly accepting Erik as a man and in saving Raoul, and Erik‘s bravery consists in letting her go, relinquishing his one chance in his life of having everything he has ever dreamed of.

Erik then goes to free Raoul and brings him to Christine, where Raoul and Christine kiss. Christine swears to Erik that she will come back to bury him with the ring, and then she finally kisses him before they leave.

Seeing Erik weeping and overcome with emotion, the Persian no longer doubts him. Erik tells the Persian that when he feels he is close to dying, he will send the letters that Christine had left with him and a few of her personal objects to him, and that this would be the cue for the Persian to put an obituary notice in the newspaper so that Christine and Raoul would know. Interestingly, that entire arrangement hinged on Erik himself announcing his death without anyone confirming it, because he could only mail things to the Persian if he was still alive. This leaves a lot of blank space for the reader’s imagination, because who knows if he really died…? The Persian, at least, never saw him again, but announced three weeks later that “Erik is dead”.

Next chapter >>

#phantom of the opera #lerouxreadingguide #leroux erik #leroux phantom #gaston leroux #le fantôme de l'opéra #erik in love #erik x christine #give erik a hug #the ghost‘s love story #the phantom #the phantom of the opera #erik the phantom #christine daae #byronic hero #gothic romance #classic literature #the persian #raoul shoots erik

[tarysande]

S6 Thoughts: A Tale of Two Brothers

But wait! There’s more. Thoughts on the overall arc of the series, Heaven and Hell edition:

In S1, Lucifer is “vacationing” on Earth but doesn’t plan to return to Hell. Amenadiel spends that season trying so hard to force Lucifer back to Hell, where he “belongs,” that he himself Falls. We’ve got this role reversal of an angel doing evil things to return the devil (doing ... good things, like solving crimes) to Hell. It’s all very “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” 

In S2, Lucifer still has no plans to return permanently to Hell, but he’s willing to face it to save Chloe. Of course, this then leads to him experiencing his own forced hell-loop. Amenadiel is also conflicted. Though he’s changed enough that he no longer wants to force Lucifer back to Hell, he’s still uncertain where that leaves either of them. In fact, even when Lucifer pleads with Amenadiel to return him to Hell, Amenadiel refuses. However, when Mum plants the idea of returning to Heaven as a family, Amenadiel clings to that. He’s looking for a purpose. Lucifer, on the other hand, is still very much aboard the Heaven nope train. Here, we also get the foreshadowing of celestial war, and Lucifer’s rejection of Mum’s plan because “In war, there are always casualties.” He would rather sacrifice one--Mum, Uriel--for the many. But it hurts him. If he belongs anywhere, he thinks, it’s Earth ... but, ultimately, that’s shortsighted because we know he doesn’t actually want to be on an Earth that doesn’t have the people he’s coming to care about on it.

S3 is, as we all know, a bit of a mess. But, hey, it’s actually thematically appropriate! Lucifer’s having an identity crisis (wings) that just keeps giving (or taking), and even though subconsciously (we later realize) he gave himself the wings because he was, in fact, making progress reconciling his past and present, his conscious is backsliding like (pun not intended) hell. Much as he wants Earth to be home, he’s got these non-stop reminders of both Heaven and Hell. It makes complete narrative sense that this season reaches the point where he can no longer hide from himself--or from Chloe. 

In this season, we also see Amenadiel really start to settle into the idea of staying on Earth, of embracing humanity. He’s shedding the aloofness he once had. He’s learning (we later realize) how to be the kind of God who sheds mysterious ways in favor of boots on the ground. I mean, he doesn’t realize this. But Dad ... well, he has a Plan. Lucifer begins the season with sudden wings. Amenadiel ends it with his wings’ very deliberate return. 

In many ways, this season is about Hell on Earth and torture at the hands of an entity far more intentionally and deliberately evil than the actual devil. This is why the catalyst of Cain is so important. He is all the things Lucifer has been accused of being, only he embraces it in ways we’ve seen Lucifer reject and recoil from again and again. This season is torture (lol). It’s Hell. It’s every ugly thing lies beget. And much as we love Lucifer, we’re given an extreme close-up of how his omission of truth is very nearly as devastating as Cain’s outright lies. Of course, this nearly results in Chloe’s death (in more ways than one; you can’t tell me that godforsaken marriage wouldn’t have been like dying), and the devil’s vengeance results in the removal of Lucifer’s choice about the where and when to reveal his true nature to Chloe. 

Which brings us to S4, aka The Season of Angst. For Lucifer (and Chloe), anyway. Not so much for Amenadiel, who is set on the path of fatherhood, of responsibility, of partnership and not just commands he expects to be followed. In case we’ve forgotten how much Amenadiel has changed, Remiel “mini-Amen” shows up to remind us. In Linda’s “When angels fall, they also rise” of it, Amenadiel is rising again. He’s not the same as he was, no, but ... we didn’t like old Amenadiel very much, did we? Like Lucifer, Amenadiel is on a journey of learning who he is, the good and the ugly, so he can choose the parts he wants to keep with both eyes open. 

Of course, while Amenadiel is rising, Lucifer is falling. In having to deal with Chloe’s reaction to his devil face, Lucifer is put in the uncomfortable position of either growing enough to face his own darkness and self-loathing or retreating, very literally, into who he used to be because it’s comfortable and less frightening than the prospect of change and the unknown. Until it isn’t, right? The more he becomes the devil Eve remembers, the more uncomfortable he becomes. And the more frightening he becomes. Not to Chloe, as he fears, but to himself--though it takes a while to recognize it. If nothing else, we have to hand this to Lucifer’s subconscious: when it wants him to PAY ATTENTION DUMMY, it’s pretty good at getting its point across. If S3 was Hell on Earth starring Cain as the devil, S4 is Hell on Earth starring, well, the devil as the devil with bonus demons. It’s Lucifer’s earthbound iteration of a guilt-induced hell-loop. And at the tragic end, he chooses to return to the place he swore he’d never return, losing everything good in the process, but doing it for selfless reasons. So, that’s new. And it’s why there was still a sliver of hope even when things looked impossibly dark.

S5 begins with Lucifer in Hell--farther from the things he cares about than he has ever been, but also closer to his true calling. Not that he realizes it; this is Lucifer we’re talking about. So, of course it makes sense that as the season goes on, he’ll end up confused by suddenly having everything he always thought he wanted within his grasp. The Lucifer who led a rebellion against his father because he thought he could do better than God? Of course that part of him wants to be handed the job now. No--he wants to earn it. And while some of his reasons are not great, others are. His heartbreak about the injustice and unfairness of life, well ... who hasn’t felt that way? Who hasn’t wanted the power to unilaterally make things better? But that’s not how free will works. That’s not how choice works. While Lucifer wrestles with the necessity of becoming God, Amenadiel recoils from what his S1 self would have seen as his right and his calling. S1 Amenadiel would have made a terrifying and inflexible and absolute and judgmental God. Perhaps even a God closer to our imaginings of Evil than Good.

S6 is about how sometimes personal growth means we grow out of old dreams and acquire new ones. Sometimes, it’s about reimagining those old dreams, rebuilding them with new information. For Amenadiel, that means recognizing that the person he is now is the best man for the Big Job. It means recognizing that Heaven can be (a place) on Earth if he wants it to be. It means he sets aside the pride of “If God wants something done, he sends ME” in favor of delegation and accepting help--and in doing so, helping others (his siblings) discover their callings too. He learns to lead by example, tempered with love and humility.

In Paradise Lost, Milton’s Lucifer famously declares that it is better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven. But our Lucifer ... his calling isn’t ruling in Heaven. That’s the old dream of a person who no longer exists. Ironically, Lucifer’s calling is to serve in Hell. Not to serve a distant, ineffable, unfathomable being’s mysterious ways, mind you, but to tangibly serve the humans he has come to love, and who have taught him so much about himself. Who have taught him about love and sacrifice and light and darkness and second chances and hope and faith. When Lucifer chooses to return to Hell, he does so with his eyes open, just as Chloe returns to the LAPD with her eyes open. It’s a lesson that revisits the first episode of the season: Truth and wonder don’t have to be at odds. They can go hand in hand. The mysteries at the heart of pain and suffering and trauma--those are the ones Lucifer wants to solve. Because solving them isn’t about trusting to a higher power (aka the justice system, which is flawed) or designing the perfect torture. It’s about quite literally helping others set themselves free. Finding release. It’s about being a guide, not a judge. And it’s about fulfilling not the temporary desire that merely scratches the itch, but offering the tools necessary to help others determine--choose--their path to the desire they may not even realize is buried beneath the layers of scar tissue within them. And what could be more wonderous than that? Especially when you have a partner who makes you better at your calling, even as you make them better at theirs.

In the end, Heaven and Hell are what we make of them. One person’s Heaven is another person’s Hell. Love is what matters. In all its many, many forms.

#lucifer on netflix #lucifer morningstar #amenadiel #lucifer meta #chloe decker #lucifer thoughts #lucifer spoilers #lucifer s6 #lucifer s6 spoilers #long text post

[babemendesbarnes]

A two way deal | one shot

Paring: Bucky x DemonFem!Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: Bucky is tired. He hasn’t gotten a single good night of sleep in decades, and he’s done with the nightmares. Hearing about a certain woman who makes deals that could get him what he needed sounds like a miracle. Only when Bucky does find her, it’s no miracle, and she’s no saint.

Warnings: 18+ only, SMUT, talk of religious subjects (devil, hell...)

A/N: This is inspired by the character Maze in the show Lucifer, I absolutely love her arc. This is initially a one shot, but I liked it so much I might write another part. Also my first smut. Tell me what you think!

The club lights flashed red and you downed your vodka shot, body getting warmer by the second. Excitement ran through your veins as the familiar feeling clouded your thoughts.

Something was different though.

Everything was so much stronger this time. The feeling so powerful you were forced to close your eyes, the fake human color being replaced by their true shade of black. 

You could feel his memories, almost taste how they haunted him.

The second he sat on the table across from you, everything slowed down. The music beat got sexier, tempting, as the air got thicker. His piercing blue eyes examined you from head to toe, searching for threats in your tight leather pants and black corset. 

You could see the disappointment in the brunette woman sitting with her legs on top of yours as she realized you would be busy. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, you whispered that you would find her later, gently patting her legs for her to leave.

Bucky didn’t stop staring at you for even a second.

"Didn’t take you for a club kind of man, Mr. Barnes."

If the super-soldier was surprised you knew who he was, he didn’t show it, his eyes still fixed on yours as you took him in.

He wasn’t dressed properly for the club, his dark jeans, black shirt, and leather jacket standing out from all the expensive suits you saw all night. And yet, the man looked better than anything you had ever laid your eyes on. 

The contrast of his apparent demeanor to the things you saw in his head was admirable. The former Soldat knew how to show just what he wanted to, his face not giving in the demons dancing on his mind.

His hands tucked in his pockets, you ponder if he’s still afraid of his own body.

Wakanda might have given him a new vibranium arm, yet you wonder if he still sees blood whenever he looks at it. 

"I heard you make deals."

Bucky seemed reluctant to speak at first, although his voice was still steady.

He didn’t want to be here, but to be honest, none of your clients ever did, so you were pretty used to this. The only reason they come to you is that they’re always just way too desperate, just like he is.

"You heard right, Mr. Barnes." you crossed your legs slowly as you called for the waiter to bring you a martini. "And a whiskey for the gentleman, please."

"I’m not drinking." you waved the waiter off, ignoring completely what Bucky had just said.

Surprising you was difficult. You’ve lived long enough to see just about everything, and well, you were created in the pits of hell, so there were not that many things that could amaze you. And yet, there was so much about the man in front of you that just picked your curiosity.

The brave Sergeant Bucky Barnes, the only Howling Commando that gave his life for his country. The infamous Winter Soldier, tortured and manipulated, stripped of his humanity. And now? A fucked up super-soldier with no family, no friends, and a man out of his time.

That’s something not even a demon sees every day.

The drinks were set on the table and you pushed his whiskey to him, watching him through your lashes, a smile planted on your lips as he took a big gulp. The tip of your red bottoms slightly brushing against his leg.

"Tell me, Mr. Barnes, " your body fell slightly forward, your tongue wetted your red-painted lips as his gaze followed every move. "what is it that you desire?" 

Bucky felt lightheaded.

The sound of your voice dripped with something he couldn’t recognize, and yet, so desperately craved. He suddenly couldn’t form words.

"I need..." Bucky felt nervous, "I can’t..." his mind going against his commands and his eyes focused on the contour of your lips, how soft your skin would be upon his touch. So lost in thought he forgot he should probably finish his sentence. 

You saw right through him though.

"You want them gone. Don’t you?" the world seemed to fade around your form. Your head tilted to the side as you so sweetly said the exact words he needed to hear. "You want the demons to go away."

Bucky never thought he could feel this again, to feel... understanding. And it only took a demon to do so. 

Rounding the big red seat and dragging your body closer to Bucky, your lips brushed against his ear. 

"You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?" His body stiffening as your nails traced his flesh arm. 

"I have." his words were a little bit harsher this time. Your eyes locked and your hand touched his chest, the sound of his heart beating faster, almost as loud as the music.

"Let me take care of you, James." your voice just above a whisper, his fate settled as he silently consented.

You got up and signaled for him to follow. 

Bucky didn’t have to be told twice, his body aching to be close to yours again.

This was not something he should feel. The priest of the small Brooklyn church he went to every Sunday morning used to lecture about how the Devil and his demons could lurk you in, bringing you to their sins just to drag you to hell. 

But it was Bucky who came looking for the wicked, all you did was welcome his desires with open arms.

You two walked into an elevator, and you instantly felt his stare on you.

The last bit of sanity in the 106 years old man screamed at him, begging him to run. Demons were not givers, whatever they gave, came with a cost, and for someone like him, owning a favor was not a possible option.

"What’s the price?" His hands began to sweat, your answer being able to end the last ounce of hope Bucky had.

The metal doors reopened, revealing a breathtaking penthouse. "Don’t worry about it, I have no interest on bring the Soldat back, Mr. Barnes."

That was all it took for him to finally exhale the breath he didn't even notice he was holding. 

Maybe stricking a deal with a demon could end well. Okay, probably not, but still. How the fuck did he even end up here anyway? 

Well, too late to back out now.

Bucky looked around, the Los Angeles skyline visible through the giant glass walls, a bar filled with alcohol he had never even seen before, and a large grey couch next to a bookcase filled with books from probably before he was even born.

You grabbed two glasses and poured a black licor on them. Opening a glass door, Bucky followed you as your arms leaned against the balcony’s railing, giving him his drink as you watched the city.

"What is this?" he reflected your stance. The usually loud noises of the big city down below now quiet, you're breathing the only sound he could hear.

"Something special." His suspicious gaze made you laugh, the sound alone being able to wash Bucky’s distress away. "Don't worry, tastes like wine."

You two stayed like that for a couple of minutes, the soft Autumn breeze hitting your hair, the soft strands dancing in the air, hitting Bucky’s face a couple of times. 

"Can I look?" your voice broke over the silence and Bucky didn’t need to ask what you were talking about. 

"Haven’t you already?" you chuckled and a smirk played on your lips. "A little bit. Just the things I already knew. But for this... I have to see everything."

You knew what Hydra had done to the man. Although, by the few things you noticed about Bucky, you were pretty sure the torture inflicted upon him was not the biggest issue here.

"I would say going inside my mind is like walking through hell, but I’m guessing that’s not a problem for you."

Leading him to sit on the couch, Bucky noticed how you seemed to avoid answering the comment. 

Everything about you confused Bucky so much, and every damn word you said just filled him with more questions.

"Sit." 

You sat next to him, the tips of your fingers slowly touching the side of his head. If he noticed you wondered around his mind earlier without touching him, he didn’t complain about you doing it differently this time.

Bucky’s heart skipped a beat as images started to flood his head.

Both your chest’s rising and falling fast, his anxiety at watching his memories traveling to you.

A small Brooklyn apartment. George, Winifred, Rebecca. Dark alleys. Steve. World War II. 107th. Europe. Hydra. Captain America. Howling Commandos. Fall. Hydra. Pain. Erase. Cryo. Isaiah. President. Cryo. Stark. Gun. Cryo. Erase. Red Room. Blood. Cryo. Fury. Bucky?. Steve?. Erase. Lake. Steve. Zemo. King. Winter Soldier. Siberia. Stark. Sam. Wakanda. White Wolf. Thanos. Shield. Walker. Karli. Sam. Captain America.

Bucky’s hands are shaking against the couch. 

As you open your eyes, you see his tear-stained cheeks, and only when his long fingers gently wipe your face, you realize yours were too.

It never felt this personal, to look into someone’s head. You just took what you needed and that was it. Not this time thought. An urge to give the man any possible comfort made you get up in a rush and almost fly to get a refill.

Bucky starts to calm down and when his eyes follow you, he finally sees a black shining piano in the corner of the room that weirdly seemed to call out to him.

"You play?" your voice took him out of his thoughts. He left the couch and took a few steps towards you, who was now leaning on the instrument.

"My ma taught me before the war." you smiled softly and told him to go ahead. "Oh, no. I probably don’t even know how to anymore." he all of a sudden felt shy under your gaze.

You walked slowly to him, taking his vibranium hand in such a natural way, Bucky wondered how you had never done that before. 

Taking him to the piano, you both sat down, sharing the small seat.

"This is not something you forget," leading his hand to the keyboard, you placed your fingers on top of his, pushing the keys down, and shortly, a soft jazz melody echoed in the room as your skilled hands moved in sync. "there are some things no one can take from you, James, not even time."

As both your hands kept making music, your eyes locked and Bucky forgot all about the definitions he heard all his life about the divine and the profane. 

Your smile felt like heaven, only your lips were sin.

His hand moved to the back of your neck, his eyes asking for permission you happily granted, your lips meeting as you pulled him to you.

The kiss was eager, your lips moving fast as you didn’t waste a second to open your mouth and welcome Bucky’s tongue. 

You climbed his lap, your hands running through his short locks as he kissed along your neck.

Lust almost felt like a drug. You were sure you were addicted. 

Between gasps and shivers, you fell to your knees and heard him take a shaky breath. Placing your hands on his face, you pulled Bucky down to look you in the eyes.

"When was the last time someone made you feel good, James?" Bucky gasped as your delicate fingers slowly undid his belt, your voice sweet like honey. "Answer me, baby."

"I... I can’t even remember it." 

You chuckled lightly, pushing his jeans down, your nails trailing along his strong thighs, wet kisses following the path of the fading red lines. "Let me make you feel good, James."

Your light touches and lust dripping voice made Bucky feel like he could come undone by this alone, his hands holding tightly onto the piano bench.

Your tongue traced the trimmed hairs on his abdomen, your own personal path to paradise, disappearing into his black boxers.  You pulled at his shirt, ripping and throwing it somewhere in the room.

"What do you want, James? Tell me." you pulled his boxers down, Bucky quietly moaned as his cock sprung free.

Your mouth salivated at the sight of Bucky’s hard cock, his impressive length making your walls clench around nothing, panties ruined at the thought of him inside you.

"Your mouth. Please, Y/N, I need your mouth." The desperation in James's voice only made you want to pleasure him even more, eager to hear his sweet sounds.

Your hands pumped him before your tongue traced the vein running along the side of his cock. You licked him top to bottom a few times, his pleas finally attended as you swirled your tongue over his tip, relaxing your jaw and taking him in your mouth. Each time going further down his length, you hollowed your cheeks, a raspy moan he let out going straight to your core.

"Fuck, doll." Bucky wrapped his hands on your hair, pushing you further down his dick, saliva dripping down his balls. "You look so fucking good with your mouth wrapped around my cock."

His sudden vocality only spurred you, moaning when his tip reached the back of your throat.

"That’s it doll. Come on, take everything." 

Bucky’s head fell back as you choked on him, his grip moving your head to take him faster, a familiar feeling of pleasure he missed so much clouding all his senses.

"Shit... I’m not gonna last long, doll." you took your lips off of him just for a second. 

With puffy, red, and wet lips, you glanced at him with lazy eyes, the sight alone bringing him closer to falling apart. "Come for me, Bucky."

Your lips wrapped around his dick again, and with two more hard thrusts, Bucky came with a groan. You swallowed every drop he gave you.

"Holy fuck." he swore as his breathing calmed down and you gave him a mischievous smile.

"Not exactly holy, Sargeant." you both chuckled and it didn’t go unnoticed by you the twist on his face at the use of his old title.

Bucky kicked off his jeans and picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. Your back hit a wall as he kissed your neck, biting and sucking on the soft skin. 

You moaned when he found a sensitive spot between your neck and collarbone, his mouth leaving red marks behind. You jumped out of his embrace and led him to your bed, throwing him into the mattress.

His stare never left your body. At every piece of clothing you removed, the blue in his eyes seemed to disappear even more, his pupils so blown out it reminded you of your own.

"You have been bad, Sargeant." 

You crawled into the bed, taking your time on getting on top of him. The feeling of your hot, wet core against his skin made Bucky’s cock impossibly harder. Your hand pulled at his hair, forcing him to look at you, a raspy moan escaping Bucky’s lips. "You like being bad, James?"

"No." his answer made you chuckle.

"No?" your lips kissed his jawline, licking every piece of skin you found, your teeth biting his earlobe. "But look at you, Sargeant, falling apart on my hands."

Your hands rested against his chest as you bent forward, guiding his cock into your core.

"Fuck." you both moaned as his tip slowly entered you.

Bucky’s hands had a tight bruising hold on your hips, he slowly helped you sink down his length.  You didn’t wait before moving your hips back and forth, loving the pain of being stretched out by him.

"Shit, you feel so good around me, doll."

Bucky pulled you to him, his mouth catching one of your breasts, biting and kissing your nipple, his hand caressing the other as you bounced on his cock.

You tugged harder on his brown locks as he started to thrust up, fucking you harder. You nearly screamed his name when he found that special place inside you, hitting it with every thrust of his hips. 

"You’re so fucking tight." Bucky let out a groan as your pussy squeezed the shit out of him.

Everything was way too much. You felt dizzy as you met his hard, frenetic thrusts. His cold vibranium fingers found your clit, drawing fast circles, bringing you even closer to the edge. 

"Bucky! Fuck, I’m gonna..."

You pushed his body down, your hands grabbing his throat and giving it just a little bit of pressure, his eyes rolling back, and his deep moans getting louder.

Your veins turned to fire, your whole body shaking as you felt the waves of euphoria taking over. You threw your head back, tears falling as the strong orgasm hit you, your eyes turning into their natural black as you stared at the ceiling.

"Come here, doll." he tried pulling you to him, but you just pushed him further down. 

Bucky pushed himself up, pulling you by your neck, his hands forcing you to look at him. Your breath hitched as his hands held your cheeks with a tenderness you had never known, his lips meeting yours in a soft, gentle kiss. Your mind was spinning at the sudden change.

Your breath caught in your throat as Bucky´s beautiful blue eyes stared at your empty ones like they held the keys to Eden. 

"You’re not scared of me?" the confused, bitter tone on your voice made Bucky’s heart break in two, cause he recognized that. He heard it in his own voice every damn day. 

"Are you, of me?" a tear fell down your cheek, his thump gently brushing it away. You knew every part of him, so the quiet 'no' you whispered made Bucky’s smile grow. "There you go, sweetheart."

For some reason, after that, everything seemed to change. Bucky turned you both around, your back hitting the mattress as he slowly pulled out, just to fill you up completely again.

His thrusts became harder and faster as he chased his own orgasm, driving you into your second one, but somehow, it felt more caring, personal.

Your nails scratched his back, leaving red angry lines behind, a reminder you would leave on him of this night. 

Your legs hugged Bucky’s form, urging him to hit deeper inside of you, if that was even possible. His vibranium digits finding your clit again.

"One more, doll." his hands brushed the hairs out of your face, his eyes filled with unfamiliar adoration. "Come for me." 

He kissed you gently as you felt his dick ripping you apart, ruining you just the way you liked.

You came again, milking his cock and triggering his own orgasm. 

"Fuck, Y/N!" Bucky came hard, chanting your name as his cum shot deep inside you.

After you both felt like you could breathe again, Bucky slowly slipped out and fell next to you on the bed.

His eyes had already started to close, his chest falling and rising evenly as he searched for your body, pulling you close to him.

You both fell asleep and for the first time in decades, Bucky’s demons didn’t haunt him in his dreams.

The sun was rising and you had been awake for a long time, your mind racing as the events of just a few hours ago played in your head.

Demons weren’t born. They were forged in hell. 

You were made with one purpose only, to serve Lucifer and torture the souls that lost themselves into perdition. The lack of your own soul was never a problem as you spent your days in the pits of hell. But now? Joining Lucifer on Earth showed you just how much you couldn’t have.

Bucky reminded you of what you couldn’t have.

As the man woke up, he felt an unusual sense of cold enveloping him, and that’s when he noticed your body was no longer pressed against his.

Opening his eyes, he noticed a small note resting on top of the pillow you had laid in, all night long, as he held you in his arms.

I’m not one to break a deal, your nightmares were gone for this night just like they always will be from now on. 

Don’t worry about your part of the deal, you’ve paid me already.

And before you get any ideas, I’m not a name on your make amends list, you can’t help me, Mr. Barnes. Do not come looking for me again.

Sweet dreams, James.

#bucky barnes #bucky oneshot #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #demon reader #marvel one shot