#didn't you have a flaming sword? it was flaming like anything

[skullfragments]

soooo i've been real busy this past month and change working on this monster of a painting! it was originally for the GO Ref library study club but clearly took much longer than i anticipated😅

for those of you who don't recognize it, this is based on one of my favorite historical paintings, Judith Beheading Holofernes (1620) by Artemisia Gentileschi. i love the Baroque period and this painting (as well as her other works) makes me insane. here it is Good Omens style so maybe all of you can be insane with me <3

"Aziraphale (and Crowley) Beheading the Metatron"

(non-bloody and non-glowy versions under the cut)

#IT'S DONE #can i get a wahoo #dear tumblr pls don't fuck up the quality #sara does art #good omens #good omens fanart #shout out to the GORL server!!! #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #the metatron #OFF WITH HIS HEAD #i will never attempt digital oil painting again #(pls stop me if i do) #artemisia gentileschi #ITALIAN BAROQUE QUEEN #italian baroque #i need you all to know that the suggested tag that came up was 'italian barty crouch jr.' #david tennant you're already in this picture that's enough #baroque art #judith beheading holofernes #the superior version btw #tw blood #didn't you have a flaming sword? it was flaming like anything #if u zoom in pls appreciate the tartan bowtie detail #that shit took me way longer than it should have #as well as the approx 15hrs each i spent on azi's sleeves #did i miss any tags?? #ART #i'm going to hibernate now thank you

[bimb0fy]

— 02; bonfire

pairings; luke castellan x hephaestus!reader

warnings; smoking, SMUT, slight bondage, slight degrading, public sex, loss of virginity, raw sex (wrap your willy silly!!), rough sex, dom!luke, corruption kink if you squint, maybe, idfk atp, wrote this b4 my English speaking exam so it's shit.

summary; the weekly bonfire, a tradition for councillors like yourself, like luke, but this one, this one had a certain twist to it.

wordcount; 1.4k

masterlist!! | navigation!!

-> You walked down to the bonfire. You're brother Alex made you dress up for Luke. He could sniff something happening and usually, Alex was always correct about that.

You raised the low rise pants, the star imprints were different. Yet he wasn't overboard with the outfit, allowing you to wear white shirt instead of a tank like he originally planned.

You smiled as you found your way to the councillors bonfire, each week, you'd throw one and get wasted and high.

You plopped down beside the Apollo Councillor, smiling at her as you talked.

"Hey mender, wanna get outta here?" Luke said as he raised his hand for you to take, which you gladly accepted.

You walked to the lake, hand in hand as you walked down the path. "Wanna play a game? Like 20 questions?" Luke asked you as you gave him a confused glance.

"Why?" You asked the boy who shrugged.

"I don't know anything about you." Luke answered. You smiled and nodded as he smiled back. "Let's see, uh, what's you're favorite color?"

"Basic much." You joked as he laughed. You sat down on the dock, taking off your slippers as you dipped your legs into the water, Luke sat crossing his legs beside you as you looked at the stars. "Green."

"Green?" Luke asked as you nodded. He smiled before turning back to the sky. "Mine is red."

"Okay uh, have you ever left camp?" You asked the boy who shook his head. "Wait really?"

"I don't have a place to go back to." Luke looked at the planks, tracing the outlines as you looked away, placing a hand on his in an attempt of comfort.

"I go to my aunts sometimes, my mom she uh, she died from an illness." You muttered as Luke looked at you. You gave him a sad smile as he pulled out a cigarette box from his cargos. "Really Castellan?"

"Shut up, don't act like you don't smoke." Luke laughed as he placed the cigarette in his mouth, taking out his lighter but groaning when it doesn't light.

"Here. Let me." You said as you removed your legs from the water, shivering from the cold as you leaned in.

You snaped your fingers, a little flame exiting from your hand as you lit up the cigarette for him.

Your face close to his. His gaze steady onto your eyes. You felt butterflies in your stomach as his breath hitched.

Once the cigarette lit up, you moved back to your original position. Luke exhaled the smoke, handing you the cigarette as you placed it into your mouth.

"Shit that's a nice one." You exhaled before handing it back, only for him to shake his head, taking out another one.

He took out his lighter, lighting up the cigarette before looking out to the stars, but your thoughts were confusing you.

He didn't correct you with his sword, his lighter is clearly working. It was almost as if he knew you'd light the cigarette for him, why was he acting this way.

"Hey Luke?" You called out as the boy turned to face you, a smile on his face as he inhaled the smoke, taking out the cigarette before answering.

"Yeah mender." He smiled as you crossed your legs, facing him as he did the same. "Whats up?"

"You're lighters working." You pointed out as Luke held onto it. He glanced at it, then back at you, clearly still confused.

"And what's the issue mender?" He asked before putting the cigarette back into his mouth, you put out yours, causing him to do the same as he stared at you, waiting for you to continue.

"You didn't correct me when I was making your sword, and you knew I'd light up your cigarette if your lighter randomly stopped working, didn't you?" You asked him as Luke bit the inside of his cheek.

Luke didn't even know how to respond. He knew what you were thinking. He leaned in, taking a second to watch your reaction.

You leaned in, intchung closer as you placed you hand onto his cheek. You're noses touching as his hands snakes around your waist.

Without warning, he pushed you onto the dock, knees on both sides of your thigh as he kissed you.

You let out a groan as he grabbed your arms, clutching onto your wrists as his lips hatched to your neck.

"Luke!" You breathed out as his hands found their way under your shirt.

"Mhm." He mumbled into your neck, kissing and biting the area. You let out a groan as you pushed him off, he had a hurt expression on his face as you sat up. "Sorry."

"No no it's just. I've never been with anyone, ever." You confessed as Luke raises his eyebrows at you, seemingly shocked by your confession.

"Really? Huh I gotta say I wasn't expecting that." Luke muttered as he stared at you, smiling, yet it wasn't a smile. It was a lustful grin at most.

You'd be lying if you didn't like Luke, everyone did.

Yet, he liked you. He chose you.

"Do you wanna?" Luke asked you, a grin plastered onto his face. You were nervous obviously, and all you could think about was someone finding you out here with him.

Luke would be lying if he said that didn't turn him on. He needed you, from the moment he saw you in your pony tail, working on a random Apollo kid's arrows and god, you were breathtaking.

"Okay." You whispered as he smirked. He gave you a grin, a grin that you interpreted as a 'I'm not gonna go soft on you' grin.

He pushed you onto your stomach, rasing up your hips as he smirked. His hand traced against the burn scars along your back, raising up your shirt as he kissed your back.

He slowly slid your pants down, you underwear falling along as he groaned at the sight.

You were pure, he could tell.

"God, mender you ready?" He asked you as he palmed through his cargos. You nodded your head, he kissed your back before unbuttoning his pants.

He pulled out his cock, precum spilling onto his fist as he gave himself a few jerks before lining up with you.

One swift movement, that was all it took for his to enter.

You let out moans and mewls at the unfamiliar feeling. You could hear Luke's groans as you clenched around him.

His hips started thrusting into you, not giving you time to adjust to his side as you let out moans, the sounds of his balls hitting your ass and completely obliterating you was too loud for you're liking.

But Luke was making you feel too good.

"Luke. Oh. Oh Luke right there." You moaned as you're eyes rolled to the back of your head. Tongue out as you couldn't think anymore, simply panting at the way he was completely destroying your insides.

"Oh god you're so tight, just my personal little cocksleeve huh." He whispered as he pounded into you. You moaned as he slapped your pussy, pulling put and flipping you over.

Your arousal dripped everywhere as he changed positions, entering you once more as he watched your tits bounce at his pace.

"Fuck you're perfect babe, made for me." Luke muttered as he drilled your sobbing cunt, fully disappearing in you.

Without a second thought, your back arched as you came. He groaned as he helped you through your high, pulling put and finishing onto your stomach as you let out loud moans.

He plopped down beside you, grinning as he looked at you. "Not bad for a virgin mender."

"Shut up Castellan." You laughed as you sat up with a strained moan. Biting your lip to forget your aching cunt as you slowly put your pants back on.

"Want me to kiss it better?" Luke joked as you widened your eyes at him. "No worries. I'll do it next time."

You smiled at his sentence. Next time. He wanted to see you again.

"It's getting late, cmon, I'll walk you to your cabin." He stood up, raising his hand for you to take it, which you gladly did as he wrapped his arm around you. "So tell me, what's your dream date huh."

"So now you're gonna take me out to dinner huh? What happened to doing that first."

#fanfic #x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x hephaestus!reader #hephaestus #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #pjo fandom #pjo series #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians fanfic #percy jackson and the lightning thief

[cobragardens]

5 Good Omens Timefucks that Haunt Me

1.

Why is this here? Why is this line included? Is it just to add texture, to imply that larger world of corporate fascism of which Crowley and Aziraphale are subjects and victims and little worker bees? If so, why "They've started early" specifically? Why not "I wouldn't have expected that shrub to be the first to go" or "Aw, I liked that rock formation"?

Crawly doesn't make this comment in an offhand way: he sounds a bit taken aback and not thrilled that things have kicked off sooner than he anticipated. But it doesn't ultimately seem to make any difference to this scene, so why do we, the audience, need to know Hell started early?

2.

This one I'm not as confident will turn out to be significant, because iirc it appears in the book, which was a complete story when written, and because it serves a narrative purpose: it puts Agnes Nutter in charge of the situation, not her murderers. By backfooting Witchfinder Major Pulsifer, Agnes startles him enough she's able to walk past him without Pulsifer seizing her and discovering the extra 80 lbs of gunpowder and roofing nails in her skirts.

But. Agnes Nutter's sense of time is Nice and Accurate, and she notices the witchburning party are late and remarks on it to herself before she says anything to Pulsifer. So assuming a few minutes to position Agnes, tie her to the stake, and read the charges and conviction against her, Pulsifer and Agnes' neighbors are 12-15 minutes later than they should be. Why?

If the book answers this question, I don't recall; the show does not. And again, it seems to make no ultimate difference to this scene.

I'm not saying this was even purposely included in S1 as a timefuck. I am suggesting that as Gaiman seems to be fucking with time or timelines in this story, even if he and Pratchett didn't plan it like this when discussing the sequel, a retcon is hardly out of the question.

3.

As others have pointed out, Shostakovich's Symphony No. 5 is 45-55 minutes long. If you're listening to it on 78s instead of LPs because you are a CRAZY PERSON, it's going to take you more like 1 hour 5 minutes, because one side of a 78 holds, at most, 5 minutes of music, so every 5 minutes you have to get up and flip or switch the record.

Shostakovich wrote his 5th symphony in response to criticism in the state newspaper (possibly penned by Stalin himself) that his previous work didn't suck the Communist Party's dick hard enough--the kind of criticism that put him in danger of being sent to prison or killed. At the time it was first performed in 1937, Symphony No. 5 was considered a massive triumph, walking the line perfectly between Shostakovich's artistic standards and the Communist Party's demands of him.

The choice is symbolically significant, but it's a symphony, so whoever's censoring it isn't censoring lyrics or information. Again, why? Why is a 45-55-minute symphony only 21 minutes long? What did the time thief do with the 24-34 minutes?

4.

Here's the rug that covers the portal to Heaven in Episode 1:

Here's the rug in Ep. 2:

Aziraphale does not change this rug for the party. We know this bc we see it in Episode 5 when Mrs Sandwich enters the bookshop and the party is in full swing:

Now here's Aziraphale moving the circular rug to expose the portal to Heaven:

But here's Crowley, putting the rug back:

Why are there two different rugs?

5.

Every end credits track has the first line of "Everyday" embedded in it But after the line from "Everyday," at the end of Episode 4, the theme skips twice like a vinyl record, and then is stopped by whoever controls the turntable and restarted, with several seconds of music having been skipped over.

This is not the first time it has mattered to a character in Good Omens what we in the audience see and hear. I argue here that God asks Aziraphale what he did with the flaming sword She gave him in order to show us the audience who Aziraphale is. God also addresses us the audience directly in S1, not only narrating about characters omnisciently but speaking to us about Herself in first person.

Now we evidently have a second character who has gone meta and is changing what we the audience experience of this story, and--indications are good--the story itself.

#good omens #good omens s2 #good omens meta #good omens timefucks #good omens chronology #good omens discontinuity #good omens as metafiction

[cheeekycharchar]

The Forbidden Fruit, Choices and Fear

[A GOOD OMENS META ANALYSIS OF AZIRAPHALE POST S2] I know everyone is still upset about that gut punch of an ending to GO S2.. and many are also extra upset at Aziraphale.. I'm in so much pain over it too but.. I have to rationalize that damned "I forgive you" line that broke all our hearts to comfort me until we get S3.. I basically overanalyze our favorite cocoa loving Angel to explain his reaction to the kiss and why we all need to be a lil kinder to him.

2500 BC in the Land of Uz.. Aziraphale, the Angel of the Eastern Gate, had the fear of God put into him. And this affected the rest of his immortal life up until that kiss.

Angels, after the Fall and the great war between Heaven and Hell, had the fear of the Almighty's wrath put into them. They all fell in line and stayed in line. Or else they'd end up like their fallen brethren.. or worse. But there was one lil Angel that had since toed that line..

"Didn't you have a flaming sword? Yeah, it was flaming like anything." "…Gaveitaway.." "You what?" "I gave it away!" As far as we've seen, this is the first time Aziraphale did something "bad". And he's already feeling the pressure. The guilt. The fear. He didn't follow the rules. He didn't do exactly as he was told. And suddenly, here's a Demon slithering up next to him and making him doubt his choice even more. The same Demon that snuck past the guardians of Eden and tempted the first human's into eating the apple, breaking the rules and getting them kicked out of paradise on Earth.

"Bit of an over reaction if you ask me. First offence and everything. I can't see what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway. "Well, it must be bad.. [..] Otherwise.. you wouldn't have tempted them into it." "Not very subtle of the Almighty, though. Fruit tree in the middle of a garden with a 'Don't Touch' sign. Makes you wonder what God's really planning." "Best not to speculate. It's all part of the Great Plan. It's not for us to understand. It's ineffable. It is beyond understand and incapable of being put into words."

Already the seeds of doubt are tinkering in his mind. Stay in line. No more questioning the Almighty's plans. That's what got all the bad Angels thrown out of Heaven and then Adam and Eve exiled too.

"I do hope I didn't do the wrong thing." "Oh, you're an angel. I don't think you can do the wrong thing." "Oh, thank you. It's been bothering me." "I've been worrying, too. What if I did the right thing with the whole 'eat the apple' business? A demon can get into a lot of trouble for doing the right thing. It'd be funny if we both got it wrong, eh? If I did the good thing and you did the bad one." *chuckles* "..No. It wouldn't be funny at all!"

And then we get to season two's opening reveal. Crowley and Aziraphale had actually met before the wall of Eden.

"But that's idiocy!" {…} "It's not our job to advise the Almighty on the details of creation." "Well, then whose job is it?" {…} "Well, if I was the one running it all, I'd like it if someone asked questions. Fresh point of view."

And thanks to Aziraphale mentioning the Great Plan to Angel Crowley.. it put seeds of doubt into his mind. Making him question the Almighty's plans.

".. I'd hate to see you getting into any trouble." "Thanks for your help. And thanks for your advice. I wouldn't worry though. How much trouble can I get into just for asking a few questions?"

And then 10 million Angels fell. Kicked out of Heaven and marked as evil, unforgivable, and without God's love for eternity. Then we get the flashback to the story of a a prosperous man of outstanding piety named Job and how his life was destroyed because of a bet between God and Satan to test his faith even in adversity.

"What did he [Job] do? "Job? Nothing. Job's the nicest man in the world. That's why he's so perfect for the bet. You see, God was saying how righteous Job was and how much Job loved God. And Satan pointed out-- that maybe that was just 'cause God's been so nice to him. ..God's letting Satan destroy everything Job has. And then we'll see."

Now remember, the great flood wasn't too long ago. Where the Almighty wiped out nearly all of the human race with a big storm cause they were tetchy aka simply irritable, bad-tempered and annoyed. So this time, Aziraphale actually questions Heaven about this bet when he finds out that Job's children will be killed.

"Trust in God's plan, Aziraphale. Always." "Of course. So, once Job's trials are over, everything is restored to him?" "Even better than that. God will reward him with twice as much as he had before." {…} "I think they quite like the old ones [Job's children].. And if.. we kill them-" "-Aziraphale… we are the good guys. We're not killing anyone. What we are doing is simply not stopping hell. What they do is up to them."

His faith is wavering. He can hardly believe that Heaven would actually destroy a good man's family without truly understanding the fragility and consequences of human life/death; all to test him on a bet.

"Are we sure that Sitis wants to give birth four more times?"

Furthermore, they would be forcing Job's wife to give birth 7 more times despite Aziraphale's warning of them loving their original 3 children and that Sitis may not actually want to give birth to more children at her age. Hence taking away her choice. But thankfully, good ol' Crowley is the worst demon ever and is secretly protecting Job's children and goats. Something they're keeping between the two of them. And then during this deception… Crowley tempts Aziraphale with his first bite of food.

"Have an ox rib." "Are you trying to tempt me?" "Not at all. Angels can't be tempted, can you?" "Certainly not." "Well, there you are then. You're free to try the food."

A temptation he quickly falls into. A choice to eat the food and enjoy it to gluttony. Another sin under his belt. In the end, Virtuous Job passed his test but had the shit reward in return. Except Crowley and Aziraphale secretly saved the children.. which lead to Aziraphale lying straight to Heaven.. again.

And this is where he finally falls apart.

"I'm ready to go." "Go where?" "To Hell." {….} "But you have to. I'm like you now.. A demon.." "You think you're a demon?" "I'm a fallen angel! I lied.. To thwart the will of God." "Well yeah, you did, but I'm not gonna tell anybody. ..Are you?" *shakes head no* "No. Then nothing has to change, does it?" "…But what am I?" "You're just an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can." "That sounds um.." "Lonely?" "Yeah. But you said it wasn't." "I'm a demon. I lied."

As Crowley always tells him- Demons lie. And Aziraphale lied. Again. And now they're keeping this huge secret between the two of them. To never be spoken of or else possibly face the wrath of God. THIS scene right in this minisode here is SUCH an important part of Aziraphale's character and his future choices. And that's what it's all about, isn't it? Choices? The ability to choose between good and evil.

"Look, I am good. You, I'm afraid, are evil. But people get a choice. You know, they cannot be truly holy unless they also get the opportunity to be wicked." "Yeah, that only works if you start everyone off equal. You can't start someone off like that and expect her to do as well as someone born in a castle." "Ah, but no, no. That's the good bit. The lower you start, the more opportunities you have."

What we learn from this wee Scottish body snatching story is that something can be seen as evil but could actually be a good deed from a different perspective. And that Aziraphale truly believed that the lower you start, the more opportunities you could have. But he also believes in divine punishment. Punishment that can be dealt at any time for any thing. Big or small. From a few questions that make you lose God's love to selling corpses for survival money and accidentally getting your best friend killed or just having too much faith in God could destroy everything in your life for a bet. All of which he has witnessed with someone good (Crowley, Job, Elspeth, etc) losing everything that's important to them in the most horribly way. But Aziraphale remembers the hard lessons he learned; of inequality and responsibility of your actions and the choices you make.

Someone born into poverty doesn't get as much out of life as someone born into a rich lifestyle. Or.. a lowly snake and a lowly principality falling in love and being forgiven may not be as easily dismissed as a Duke of Hell and Archangel finding love in one another and simply being allowed to run away to the stars together without any punishment. It's all of these moments, these lessons that Aziraphale learns throughout the years that change his view on life but he still remembers the wrath of God throughout existence. Something as little as a question could get you kicked out of Heaven, eating an apple could get you banished from paradise or you could be the most faithful perfect and loved person and still have your entire life destroyed over a bet. What does he know most about the Almighty? They're "tetchy" and unpredictable.

"Aziraphale, Angel of the Eastern Gate. Where is the flaming sword I gave you, Aziraphale, to guard the Gate of Eden?"

He then conceals the truth to God themselves of the choice he made to give humanity a fighting chance of survival by giving his holy sword away. And is left alone without another word. Forced to walk on egg shells for the rest of his existence out of fear.

"So, giving the mortals a flaming sword. How did that work out for you?" "The Almighty has never actually mentioned it again.." "Probably a good thing."

That fear of the unknown consequences to his past actions.. his lies.. for good or for bad.. he could fall at any moment or lose everything he holds precious (aka his Angel-ness and Crowley).

"I'm not an idiot, Crowley. Do you know what trouble I'd be in if.. if they knew I'd been fraternizing? It's completely out of the question." "Fraternizing?!" "Well, whatever you wish to call it. I do not think there is any point in discussing it further."

So what does he always do? Deflects.. to protect himself. To protect Crowley. Not saying the real truth out loud. Keeping the reality of their relationship an unsaid secret like always.

But sometimes, actions speak louder than words.

"Should I say thank you?" "Better not."

Yet again, he breaks the rules. Doesn't even want to hear a thank you. Again, it must all go unsaid.

"You go too fast for me."

Crowley has always been one step ahead of him. Asking questions, falling, breaking the rules, etc. Aziraphale isn't ready yet. He's not ready to lose everything he holds dear to him by admitting out loud all of his sinful choices or else face the punishment he's been fearing for thousands of years.

"Go off together?" "How long have we been friends? Six thousand years."

Aziraphale starts panicking here. Crowley is saying too much out loud. Deny deny deny.

"Friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don't even like you."

This bandstand breakup was literally Aziraphale freaking out about doing too many bad things dealing with the whole anti-Christ situation and Crowley getting too close to saying what they truly are to each other. But the fear is too much and he lies again. But this time to himself. Aziraphale has only ever wanted to do the good thing. To make the correct choices. To be on the right side. But he's always faltered. Made choices that he was sure were the bad ones. Lied on occasion. Kept secrets from Heaven and God. Given into temptations. And has always had this fear of God's Almighty wrath hanging over his head for millennia. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop. At any moment, everything will be taken away. But what could be the last straw? The straw that finally breaks the camel's back? To garner God's attention and punishment. It has to be something big. The biggest and most important part of his life. Something that matters to him more than anything in the world. His relationship with the Demon, Crowley. But he's learned. If you don't say it out loud.. if you keep it to yourself. Then you won't be punished. It's worked out for him so far. So why should he think otherwise? And then in the end of S2E6, Metatron gives him the opportunity to make a change to the Heavenly system. His chance to restore his best friend to his former holy glory. A chance to relieve all the suffering he's seen throughout history. A chance to make a difference. Despite all his secret sins, he's being given an unbelievable opportunity- one that proves that maybe he isn't as bad as he always thought he was. He's actually seen as worthy. But then Crowley gets angry about all this. He's against it all. He doesn't want that. He doesn't want to be an Angel again. He doesn't want to return to Heaven. He just wants to be with Aziraphale. And he finally says their best kept, unsaid secret out loud. With a love confession and a passionate kiss.

"You idiot. We could have been… us."

Aziraphale wants this more than anything but every instinct inside of him is screaming to stop it, to not let anyone see, to not let anyone know the truth. This final temptation. His one and true forbidden fruit that is the Demon Crowley.. and it's the one he knows he must resist at all costs.

The fear is overpowering. And the only words that come from his lips…

"I forgive you."

I forgive you for letting our unsaid secret out. I forgive you for trying to tempt me. I forgive you for refusing to join me in Heaven as a renewed Angel. But can he ever truly forgive himself for the choice he just made? Remember, in the end, Aziraphale is just afraid. Afraid to lose everything. Afraid to lose Crowley. Fear of punishment can be traumatizing after all. And it will all be fixed in S3. ;) HAVE FAITH IN GAIMAN!

..Sorry this was so long and drawn out but… I NEED SEASON 3 ALREADY.. (everyone! keep re-watching GO2 on Prime! and no more threats to the creators plz ^-^) Honestly, this was very cathartic to write and help me come to terms with the most heart wrenching painful TV kiss of all time D: But I need to see how their story unfolds. I need to see Aziraphale allow himself to make the choice to be with Crowley without fear of punishment. I NEED MY INEFFIBLE HUSBANDS. TOGETHER. T^T

PS. Literally as I was finishing writing this, I saw Neil Gaiman himself say this on his Tumblr, "But the story of Job is pretty central to the whole Good Omens conversation, including Aziraphale's bit of it." OMG I KNEW IT lololol

#Good Omens #Good Omens meta #good omens analysis #Good Omens 2 #Aziraphale #Crowley #ineffable husbands #Good Omens theory #go2 spoilers #character analysis #“I forgive you”

[dalliancekay]

We've been talking for millions of years

Aziraphale was clearly taken by Angel!Crowley from the moment he met him. I think the 6000 years could be read as when the whole human breeding thing starts. Even God says there's been many nice days in the Garden. How many? The count didn't start until the day they left Eden I think. When we meet Aziraphale and Angel!Crowley in Before the Beginning, Earth was still an idea in the works. And the War didn't happen. Or Crowley surely would have been more cautious. So I hope they have met and talked and Crowley grumbled about how unfair it all was.

And Aziraphale tried to placate him that it will all work out somehow, there’s a Plan. And they kept meeting, Crowley showing Aziraphale the prettiest corners of the universe, Aziraphale telling Crowley exciting developments re: Earth.

I wouldn’t try to guess at how far their relationship has gone… maybe relationships of the kind we know now weren’t invented yet and still, these two loved each other without knowing anything about it. After all, no other angels seem to have ANY relationships of any kind. Apart from higher or lower levels of condescension towards each other.

Then the Great War came and tore them apart. After knowing each other for millions of years and their close more-than-friendship, their world falls apart. After all, Crowley tried to do the right thing. And Aziraphale did too but it wasn’t to be. Yet. But. Their story wasn’t finished yet.

Aziraphale is relieved when he’s sent down to Earth to guard the brand new humans from the demons he has heard that the damned angels have been turned into. He’s a bit fearful about the whole thing but glad to be away and keen, if a bit anxious to see the project he’s discussed/worked on for so long.

Crowley hates Hell. He hates it cos it’s not what he wanted or what he thought he was joining. He has been lied to. He’s not regretting his decision to turn his back on Heaven, no. He still thinks they’ve made too many crappy decisions. But he despises what the Rebellion became.

When Beelzebub asks for a volunteer to go up to the new planet and tempt the fresh innocent human couple into joining them, he volunteers, even if only to escape the claustrophobic walls and the mess nobody ever clears up.

Tempting comes easy to him. He imagines talking to his lost friend. ‘But why wouldn’t you try fruit from this one tree. What’s the problem with knowing things anyway? Wouldn’t you want to decide by yourself Eve? And Eve does make a decision.

Crowley’s worried now. Not for himself. He’s without hope but did he hurt humans by doing this. He didn’t mean to. He doesn’t really want them to go to Hell. Or Heaven for that matter. He only thinks they should be free to make their own choices. If only he had someone to talk to.

He spotted a distant angel earlier. Reminded him of, of… the light hair...anyway. They held a flaming sword but surely he can dodge that if needs be. He could just try for a simple chat. He has no idea how demons are talked about in Heaven. But he guesses the angel might just try to smite him. Worth the risk. Everything feels so raw and strange here. Maybe stealing a bit of familiarity will help him settle his nerves.

He decides to slither over and ask how the angel feels about what’s been done. Will they be furious. Hurt? Guilty? Oh. It’s him. It’s too late now. Always too late. It’s him. Aziraphale. Aziraphale. It is HIS angel. What is he going to do. FUCK! Well. No better way to find out. He could just tease him like the old times. What's the worst that can happen.

Shitfuck but he smells good. These new senses will take a while to get used to: “Well that went down like a lead balloon.” A lead balloon? Whatthefuck even is that. Oh for Someone's sake.

Aziraphale’s standing on top of the Garden wall, squeezing his fingers with worry - what exactly has happened. What has possessed him to give away his sword. Did he disappoint God? Heaven? It doesn’t FEEL wrong to help them. If only he had someone to talk to.

Another angel? What. A snake? Oh. Oh. They are changing. Could it be? His heart will surely explode into million pieces…!!!! A lead balloon?!? “Sorry what was that?” Does he remember me? I think he does. I think he does. He’s here. As lovely as always.

I’ll keep him safe. Safe. I will keep him safe this time.

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #aziraphale my beloved #good omens thoughts #before the beginning #garden of eden #good omens eden #kaypost

[captainsophiestark]

The Hard Call

Azriel x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Requeted by Anon! Nonnie, thank you for enabling me to write about Az and Flynn, I absolutely love you for it ❤️ Feel free to drop by any time you want to talk anything SJM-related! Hope you like this, and good news, I have a Flynn fic coming in the next couple days too!

Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses

Summary: Azriel made the hard call when he had to, but he's feeling pretty guilty about it.

Word Count: 1,610

Category: Angst, Fluff

WARNING: House of Flame and Shadow spoilers below the cut!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I swore under my breath as Nesta jammed Ataraxia into the back of the Daglan, the Asteri, whatever it was called. Black blood spurted out of its mouth, but a moment later, the thing—Vesperus—pushed back against the tip of the blade and removed it from her chest. It shouldn't have been possible for something to survive a direct hit like that from Nesta and that sword, but a lot of things from the past few days shouldn't have been possible.

When a fae female had landed in a heap on the River House lawn in front of my mate, I knew we were in for some strange new challenges. But never in a million years could I have predicted the journey she'd led us on through tunnels apparently running all under the Night Court, straight into the heart of the Prison. And now we were facing down one of the most dangerous creatures in the universe, just me, Az, and Nesta, with the female Bryce as an unreliable additional ally.

I tightened my grip on my sword and tried to calm my racing heart as I stood shoulder to shoulder with Azriel. We'd gotten through countless life and death situations together before, but for the first time in a long time, I wasn't sure we'd be able to get out of this one.

Vesperus gave Nesta a horrifying smile as the wound in her chest quickly healed. I glanced to Az, but he kept his eyes locked on the monster before us.

"Ataraxia didn't work," Nesta breathed. "The Trove-"

"Do not summon the Trove," barked my mate. Based on what we knew about this thing before us, I immediately agreed. "Don't bring it near her."

"But-"

"Not even for our lives," he snarled, leaving no room for argument. The same harsh resolve solidified itself in my mind, and I braced myself for the possibility of a last stand. At least if we went down, it would be fighting side by side with my mate.

A flicker of shadows floating softly over my shoulders was the only indication that my mate felt the same. The Daglan grinned, and I got ready to pounce.

****************

Hours later, I sat slumped in my favorite chair in the Velaris townhouse, trying to recover from everything that had happened under the prison. We'd managed to kill the Daglan-Asteri, despite Bryce trying to question it, no matter the risk to our world. But she had gotten away in an impressive display of power, which meant her world's Asteri might have a chance at using her to find us.

Needless to say, when Az, Nesta, and I had made it out of the Prison, we'd had a lot to debrief about with the rest of the Inner Circle.

Nobody was happy about the situation we now found ourselves in, but for the time being, there was also nothing we could do about it. So once we made a basic plan to try to gather information and prepare in case something from that other world came back, we all split off for our separate tasks. Az still had a few things to go over with Rhys, but I was free for the time being, so I'd come to my favorite cozy spot in Velaris to try to come down from the insane adrenaline that had been pumping since Bryce got here.

One perk of Rhys and Feyre building the River House and Nesta keeping Cassian at the House of Wind more often was that the townhouse, my personal favorite location, was often free for Az and I to use as our own. I closed my eyes in my favorite armchair by the fire, still in my fighting leathers, and focused on taking deep breaths to try to get the tension out of my shoulders.

I'd actually almost managed to drift off to sleep when I heard the front door open and shut heavily. I didn't need to look to know Az had just arrived, so with a deep sigh to drag me back from the edge of sleep, I raised my head and turned to look at my mate.

"Everything figured out with Rhys?" I asked. He nodded once, moving into the room with a face like stone. I frowned, sitting up and paying a little better attention as he took a seat on the couch, his gorgeous hazel eyes never leaving mine. "What's wrong?"

A muscle in Az's jaw ticked, and I knew he was mustering a response to my words. Despite his reputation as the unreadable spymaster, all our time together as friends and then as mates had given me a leg up on everyone else who tried to read his expressions.

I stood from my seat in the armchair and moved to sit before Az on the couch instead, taking his hands in mine. His eyes searched my face, and I let a small smile work its way through the exhaustion, trying to put him at ease. He could take however long he needed to, and I'd be ready to listen when he wanted to talk.

"I'm... sorry."

I raised an eyebrow. "For what, exactly?"

That muscle in his jaw was working over time, the rest of his face the same inscrutable mask he'd worked so hard to perfect.

"For what happened in the Prison. For... being willing to let you die down there, rather than risk Nesta summoning the Trove. You deserve a better mate than that."

My jaw dropped, shock preventing me from responding for a few small moments. Az just kept staring at me, and even though his face didn't show it, I could feel the guilt eating him up at his core.

"Az, you have nothing to apologize for!" I finally managed. One of his eyebrows quirked up and he frowned, expressing doubt at my words without speaking one of his own. I huffed and squeezed his hands tighter.

"Listen to me, Azriel. The reason you are my mate is because you made that decision in the Prison. We both know that letting something like that into the world with a weapon like the Mask is an unacceptable option, as long as there is anything in this world we can do to prevent it. If the Daglan or the Asteri or whatever she was had gotten her hands on the mask, it probably would've cost the lives of everyone we've ever cared about, and the rest of this world along with it. Nothing is worth allowing that to happen."

Az ground his jaw, his gaze softening and his eyebrows furrowing as he continued to scan my face.

"Are you... sure? Cassian and Rhys... I think they'd tear the world to shreds for their mates."

I just shrugged. "For what? If the world is gone, if the cost of that choice is absolutely everything else, then what's the point of saving each other in the first place? We'd have nothing left, other than the blood of the world on our hands."

Az grunted, and I shifted closer to him, bringing one hand up to cup his cheek.

"Az. I love you, so much, and a part of that love is because you're not so selfish as to risk throwing the world away for me. Especially since, more likely than not, we'd be dead anyway not long after she got that mask. Neither of us is selfish enough to make a call like that, and I love that about us. The only thing that matters is that we stand together as long as we can, and I knew damn well in the cave that if either of us was going down, we were going down side by side, fighting to our last breath. Obviously I'm happy we both made it out of there, and I'm not saying we shouldn't fight for each other, but that call you made today? I'd be pissed if you'd made a different one."

Az studied me for another second, and I let him see every truth and emotion written in my face. Finally, he sighed, the tension going out of his shoulders as he reached out and pulled me closer to him, arms around my waist. I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck and tangling my hands in his hair. We'd almost died today, and I wasn't about to take the fact that we were both still here together for granted.

"Have I mentioned lately how happy I am to have you as my mate?" Az asked, his voice a little gravelly as he leaned in closer to me. I smiled, leaning forward and letting my lips ghost over his own.

"Yeah, actually, you have. But I'll never complain about hearing it again."

Az smirked, then gently closed the last of that distance between us, his lips brushing softly against mine. I leaned into the kiss, eager for more contact, and I could feel Az's smirk widening right before I deepened the kiss. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me as tight to his body as possible, and I tangled my hands in his hair, letting myself get swept up in him.

I'd meant every word I'd said to my mate, about the choice he'd made and how I felt about it. But I was also incredibly happy it hadn't come down to the cost of our lives, and that we'd made it out of there together. And now that Official Night Court Business had been taken care of, I intended to fully celebrate and appreciate Azriel, and the fact that we were still here together. And I knew he intended to do the same.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

#a court of thorns and roses #azriel #a house of flame and shadow #crescent city #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel imagine #azriel oneshot #a court of thorns and roses fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #the night court #bryce quinlan #nesta #rhysand #the inner circle #azriel shadowsinger #acotar oneshot #acotar x reader #acotar imagine

[the-kr8tor]

In Deep Water

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 8.7k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, CW vomit mention, CW Inaccurate medical procedures, CW injury, TW blood, CW violence, TW death, CW guns.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

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CHAPTER 7 >>> CHAPTER 8

The laughter gets louder as the source of it shows itself aboard the black hellion, the fog makes way like a curtain opening to start a performance.

Hobie's grip is tight, fingers weaved around your arm, bruisingly strong. Your nails dig into his flesh as the uniformed man tilts his head to look at you, his toothy yellowing grin thrown in your direction. His powdered white wig flutters in the breeze, medals glinting off the single lamp on the bow, hands resting on the pommel of his pristine sword. The angelic figure head is a stark contrast to the devil sneering down.

The blackened wood of his ship groans as it continues to break a part of the revenge. The sails unfurled behind him, blue wings fluttering in the wind.

The angel of death has come.

“Look at what we have here.” He clicks his tongue, eyes boring a hole through your skulls, he narrows them into slits, and like a snake, he slithers as close as he can, tethering close to the edge. There's a flash of emotion in his eyes, snarling, the navy man chuckles, the mere sound makes you want to cower. “Hello little birdy, now how far did you fly to get where you are now?”

Hobie clenches his jaw, stepping over to hide you from his view. His hand never leaves yours, the dull ache from his hold says that this isn't just a nightmare.

You want to wake up even if it means losing his hold on you.

“Oh where are my manners? Mummy would whip me if she ever knew I didn't introduce myself to a lady.”

Hobie shifts his weight, ready to pounce if need be. You grab his shirt, making sure he doesn't do anything drastic. Subtly flicking your eyes to the side, you see the crew do the same. They look at you with fear in their eyes, the hunter’s gazes illuminating their contorted faces.

You can't help but let out a shuddering breath, the sound echoing around the open waters, hoping to get your cry for help to somebody who can do something, anything to get you and everyone out to safety.

“My name's Captain Mathias Bradshaw.” He drawls, thin lips curling into a smirk. “This here is my little merry band of sailors who has a bone to pick with—” pointing at Hobie with his thick finger, white cosmetic smeared on his palms. “Him. The red hydra. I forgot to greet you yet, long time no see you rapscallion.”

You hear Hobie's shallow breathing. Grey eyes thundering, a storm brewing, lightning flowing through his veins. The only reason why he doesn't let himself loose on Mathias is your touch.

“You see here, sweetheart,” The man addresses you and you only. “For the past three years your so-called captain and I have had a bit of a tiff.” He chuckles coldly. “A rivalry of sorts.” He pauses, looking over his shoulder. “Is it still a rivalry if you're leagues above your rival?”

“No, sir.” A gruff voice says, hidden behind the mist.

Mathias turns back around. “Well, we got our answer then.”

Hobie sneakily murmurs to you. “Hide—”

“I'm not done talking!” The sudden outburst makes you jump in your skin.

“You should've been done with your senseless dialogue a long time ago.” Hobie straightens his posture, head held high, a picture of a pirate captain. “Come down here and fight like a fuckin' man, show me your flames and I'll show mine.”

The man scoffs, amusement in his green eyes. “Flames? Yours is barely a spark.”

Hobie scoffs. “Let's be done with it then. Get the closure we both want, fight me in single combat.” Mathias knits his brows, Hobie smirks. “No? Thought you were a gentleman, where's your fuckin' honour?”

A booming laugh replaces Mathias’ scowl. “I guess it died with your little red hair—”

Hobie lets go of you, drawing his gun, pointing it directly at the monster's head. The crew takes this as their cue, doing the same, pointing their weapons towards the men surrounding them.

There's hunger in his eyes, beneath the swirling grey there's a hunger waiting to be fed.

The enemy ships don't even aim their cannons at the revenge, instead they float still in the water, unmoving, the men aboard their ships smirk in your direction like you're being served to them on a silver platter. It's then you notice the sons of the sea’s ship is no more. They took the brunt of the hellion’s collision.

No longer their sails fly, their crow's nest and pieces of wood lay floating in dark waters.

Left behind, slowly drowning in the depths.

You feel droplets sliding on your cheeks, for a second you thought it's your tears. And then more and more of it comes pouring down, splashing on the wooden floorboards.

Thunder booms from a distance, lightning flashes in the sky, lighting everyone's scornful faces.

A few of Karl's men stand with Hobie, clutching their injuries. You don't see Robbie, his lack of presence makes you glare at the sneering men.

“Say her fuckin’ name.” Hobie says through gritted teeth. “After what you did— Say her name.”

“Eh.” Mathias shrugs, “I forgot.” the laughter of his men echoes in the mist.

“You fucker—!” Hobie's hand shakes despite this, he draws the golden gun, aiming it at the navy man whose smirk gets wider.

“I recognize that little blunderbuss.” He chuckles, wiggling his pointing finger, “She pointed that at my head too, you'll be unsuccessful just like she was.”

It takes every fiber inside Hobie to not just shoot and face the consequences later. But he's surrounded, his crew is surrounded, they have no chance of escaping death if he shoots. The only option he has is through single combat and to appeal to the man's ego. He's hoping the idea works.

One look over his shoulder, one glance at your trembling face and he's back to that day, the day MJ was lost. He prays that this day doesn't end the same way three years ago.

“Little dove,” Mathias’ devilish eyes roam over your trembling body. “Look at you,” he chuckles lowly, “I'd say dear ol' Hobie here got an upgrade just because this one's got her head still glued on her neck!”

Hobie almost shoots him until someone from his crew screams, their voice full of malice, venom dripping with every utterance.

“Fuck you!” Gwen exclaims, “Don't you have any honour? She's dead and you're still spitting on her watery grave! After everything you've put her through!”

“Ah! Gwen Stacy, the ballerina turned pirate. How you doin', miss Stacy? I heard your father's still down in the stables, trying to repay his debt to the crown.” he rags her on, scoffing.

“You're still defending her? She's a traitor, a navy spy. The greatest one we've ever had in fact. Her only downfall is loving a bunch of…” he sucks in his teeth, trying to find the word. “Thieves like you. Love got her head cut off and love will be your ruin too.” Flicking his eyes to you, he observes everyone's faces after his tirade.

Hobie steps between Gwen and Mathias, his guns still raised, eyes brimming with the anger of a forsaken God. Yet he remains calm, clearing his throat, standing tall.

“Mathias Bradshaw, I challenge you to single combat, a duel. I win, you let us go. You win and you get to take us all back to the capital.” Hobie's voice booms louder than the thunder above. Lightning strikes near, the water sizzles at the contact. “I know a man of your stature can't say no.”

The man in the uniform guffaws loudly, broad shoulders shaking. “Oh that's hilarious, you think you'd win against me, little pirate? Hmm?”

“Yes.” Hobie doesn't miss a beat.

Mathias smiles, “I guess this one's less messy than what I was planning. Name your terms.”

“Guns only, five bullets. You get shot three times you lose.”

“I'll add a tiny thing to your wager.” The navy man looks over to your direction, pointing his crooked finger at you. “Same terms but I get to keep your little bird.”

Hobie turns to you, wide eyes staring back at you. “No—” He's already shaking his head before you speak up.

“Deal!” You roar above the thunder storm, deciding your own fate. The rain is getting heavier, drenching your terrified self. “The captain will take your terms as long as you honour it.” Nodding to Hobie, he holsters his weapon away from you.

Mathias cackles in the background.

Gently holding on to your arm, you already know what he'll say.

“Don't. Do you know what you just agreed to?”

“I do,” you stare at his raging eyes but they're tender when he looks at you. “I know you can take him, I trust you.” Taking his hand away from your arm, you squeeze him once before pulling him towards you. “Don't play fair, because he won't.” you whisper. “Fucking obliterate him, for MJ.”

Hobie takes you in like it's the last thing he'll ever do. He imprints your touch in his mind, wanting to remember the softness of it when the bullets get too much for him to bear.

He nods slowly, still unsure of your decision. If you trust him enough to sell your soul then he'll fight to the death so you don't have to.

With one last look at you, he turns around, facing up to the man he loathes the most, wanting to just strangle him with his bare hands. Maybe he'll do just that.

For the crew.

Mathias takes his blue coat off, grinning the entire time.

For MJ.

He grabs on to a rope, rappelling off the black hellion, landing in a thunderous impact on the deck.

For you.

Now that he's leveled with your gaze, he's a lot smaller down on the deck, stout with a round belly, face painted with white lead that's currently melting in the downpour. Hobie's taller and slimmer but he makes up for it in his agility and speed. You've seen him fight but Mathias' form could be compared to Finn's build, all muscle and strength hidden behind his uniform.

You're glad this was a duel of pistols if it was any other fight Hobie could be in trouble.

A few of his men do the same, jumping off the hellion while the ones on the smaller ships stay on board but keeping their eyes peeled.

Surrounding the bloodsail pirates, the hands of Mathias' men never leave the pommels of their rapiers. Hobie clenches his jaw, now standing before the king's flame, he can't help but gaze behind the man, back to you and his crew.

Gwen goes to your side, lacing her trembling fingers through yours, Pav sidles behind you, clutching the back of your vest. Miles stands next to Gwen, holding her other hand. You see them look at eachother with a knowing glance and glimmering eyes.

Your eyes meet Hobie's, you give him a nod, eyes full of fury, and trembling lips. You mouth a ‘Bleed him dry’.

The simple act of Hobie smiling at you, makes you tear up. It's the same one he gives you after you patch him up, it's the same one when he handed you the hot chocolate. It's the same smile that makes your heart flutter in your chest.

You're afraid as you part with the crowd to the side of the duelists, lest you get caught in the crossfire. As the one in front, you get a good look at the enemy on the other side, all lined up perfectly like the obedient soldier men that they are. You roam your eyes to their faces, wondering how they could obey a man like Mathias.

You assume the uniformed man walking towards the duelists is Mathias' right hand man. Left eye covered in an eye patch, his hazel eyes observe you. He's carrying a large wooden box, pristine and smooth at the edges with golden locks and embellishments. He opens it with a creak, rain water landing on the wood and soaking the velvet inside.

“You're the challenger, you get the first pick.” Mathias gestures towards Hobie, all smiles like he's not about to meet the end of a bullet.

You stand on your tippy toes to take a peek inside. There are two dueling pistols, flintlocks. One white as fresh snow, one is black like the hellion.

Hobie takes his pick, pocketing what you assume is the five bullets. The black gun in his hand shines when a lightning strikes the mast of the hellion. You hear splintering wood in the distance.

He steps back in place, measuring the metal’s weight in his hand.

“Good choice.” Mathias eyes down the gun. “Death has touched that one.”

Hobie glares, baring his teeth. If only that was enough to kill the man before him.

Mathias takes the remaining gun, wiggling it in his hand. “You ready, little pirate?”

Hobie doesn't show an ounce of fear. “You're going to die today.”

“How confident, confidence alone won't help you aim straight.”

Your entire body shakes whilst they stand back to back, guns raised on their sides. They walk slowly, counting their steps.

The pouring rain doesn't help, raindrops obscuring your vision, the cold mixing in with the ice in your veins.

With every step Hobie takes,

Five

with every hit of his boots on the floorboards,

Four

your heart tries to escape,

Three

pulse hammering,

Two

threatening to give out. Afraid of what's to come. No one else dares to make a sound.

One

Standing end to end on the dock, they turn around swiftly.

After a beat, the man with the box yells. “Fire!”

Bang!

The sound echoes out in the dark, above all the rain and thunder.

Hobie hits his mark, Mathias groans, clutching his dominant shoulder. Smoke bellows out of their guns, dissolving into the rain.

Your words are repeating in Hobie's head ‘Don't play fair’ you say, then he won't play fair.

He notices his bleeding arm, looking down he sees the bullet nicked his skin, leaving an angry gash in its wake. The wood behind him gets the brunt of the bullet, the metal embedding inside, splintering a gaping hole.

You jump when Mathias laughs along the thunder. More and more lightning pierces the sky. You can taste iron in your mouth, not realizing the pain from biting the inside of your cheeks.

They reload, Mathias’ man observing with his watchful eye, making sure they both adhere to the rules; but you highly doubt he's doing it for fairness sake.

Metallic clanking, gunpowder clinking against steel, Mathias' voice enters the fray to your dismay.

“You know, you were too easy to fool.” He starts, finishing up his reload. “You never asked why I left my lieutenant in your hands and why was it so damn easy for you to get my travel documents.” Smiling, the lead on his face melts further, dripping on the floorboards, the white paint mixing in with his blood. “Just like I said, love will be your downfall.”

Hobie doesn't have enough time to squabble, instead he would let his aim talk for him.

“Twenty paces!” The eye patch man yells again.

Hobie and Mathias move forwards, getting closer and closer to each other. You want to put a stop to the duel, but you have to trust Hobie that he'll make it, that he'll win. He has to.

You dare not blink.

“Fire!”

Bang!

Hobie almost keels over, his shoulder heavily bleeds, trembling hand holding his flesh together. You see him smile underneath the pain, following his gaze, Mathias clutches his shooting hand, groaning and hissing. It looks like Hobie shot a hole right in the man's hand. The white gun lays on the bloodied floor, discarded.

Gwen's hold on you tightens, you can hear Pavitr sob quietly.

You catch Hobie's eyes. There's hope in the swirling grey, nodding, you encourage him, mouthing an ‘end it’. He seems to understand, straightening his stance, he reloads the gun as best as he can with an injured shoulder.

Mathias wheezes out a strained laugh. “I gotta hand it to you, your aim is pretty good.” He stands, grabbing his gun on the way up with his uninjured hand. “No matter how amazing your aim is, you're still bloody blind!” He screams, spit flying out of his mouth.

“My two bullets that's in you say otherwise.” Hobie tilts his head mockingly.

“No, no, no.” Mathias clicks his tongue, waving the gun wildly. “You still don't get it do you? You're not asking questions, letting everything fall into your lap, thinking God's on your side on your little revenge quest. But he's not,” he chuckles. “Sacrificing my lieutenant was the best decision I've ever made, especially knowing the fucker can absolutely sing. Loose lips sink ships, little pirate. Do remember that. Especially since you didn't seem to learn from it last time.”

Hobie's face falls, dread filling his chest.

“Bribing the governor to plant my travel documents and telling him to go unwind in a brothel for a couple of days was well worth my coin.” Mathias stretches his shoulder, reloading his pistol with bloodied hands.

He continues. “The two idiots at the gates were…well idiots, I barely had to do anything to them. The lock was a false security to make you sweat a little bit.” The king's flame proves himself. “You're blind. You've focused so much on taking me down that you didn't notice the little details. It's either that or you're also deaf, preferring not to hear your crew's concerns.”

“Not a very good attribute for a supposed captain.” he shrugs, he says his words mockingly.

“Fuck you!” Hobie aims directly at his rival's head.

It's all his fault, everything that led up to this point is his fault.

The gun trembles in his hold. Mathias looks pleased, smiling at Hobie.

“You know the rules.” Mathias sucks in his teeth. “Don't fire until lieutenant Dubois says so or I win and I get your little bird.” he looks over at you. “Oh we're gonna have so much fun together, every night, every day.” His laughter makes you want to grab the nearest knife and shove it down his throat.

You don't back down from his disgusting gaze. “If he doesn't kill you, I will.” Pavitr tries to hold you back. “And it won't be quick.” your voice shakes from sheer anger.

“I look forward to it, duchess.” Mathias spares you one last glance.

You don't notice how Hobie looks angrier than he did, he's clearly holding back. His glare alone could burn a hole through Mathias' skull. Yet he stands tall, getting a second wind; he's gonna shoot a hole in his skull instead.

His head goes a hundred knots per hour, thinking of all the what ifs. What if he just listened, what if he didn't let her stay, what if, what if, what if, the words are tattooed in his mind, clawing and biting at his psyche.

“Ten paces!”

They walk in sync, closer to each other more than ever. Pausing in place, they stare each other down, Mathias' smile never leaving his lips. Hobie's scowl gets deeper with every second that passes.

“Fire—!”

“Fuck this.” Mathias lunges in surprise, grappling Hobie.

Hobie doesn't get a chance to dodge, his gun clattering on the floor as the heavier man tackles him to the ground. The wet floors make it hard for Hobie to find leverage against Mathias who's currently choking him with his large arm.

Chaos ensues, everyone breaks the line, unsheathing their weapons, fighting, steel and skin clashing. Pistols going off left and right, but your main focus is on the two men writhing on the floor.

You hear Hobie choke so you run faster, taking a fallen dagger from a corpse, you quickly dodge people, determined to save Hobie.

“This is what happens when you let your feelings decide for you!” Mathias yells above the mayhem.

Finally making it close to them, in one swift movement, you stab Mathias on his back, crimson ebbs on his white shirt like spiderwebs. He screams, letting go of Hobie.

You don't spare him a glance as you take Hobie by his arm, dragging him below deck. Shutting the doors closed, Mathias bids you farewell with one last cackling.

Guiding him through the corridors, you hope the winding hallways help make it harder for the enemies to find you.

“Y/N.” He wheezes out.

“Don't fucking talk.” Your feet brings you to the galley. Sitting him down, he plops like a fish on the chair, head lolling to the side.

Slapping his cheek, he wakes back up with a groan. “Actually, keep talking. Stay awake, please.”

Hobie nods, “I need to go back up, I can't leave them there.” He tries to stand but your hands stop him, making him sit back down.

“You can't help in this state. Let me treat you then you can go and help.” You look in his pained eyes. “Please, at least let me help with your shoulder.” your other hand fumbles to his back, searching for an exit wound. You already know the answer when you feel the hot crimson weeping out from the puncture left behind.

You plead with your eyes.

“Alright, do what you have to do. Make it quick.” he nods, you leave his side to light a fire in the hearth, laying a metal poker on top of the hot coals. “Can I tell you a story?”

“Whatever keeps you awake.” Taking out the first aid kit from your bag, you notice your hands tremble. They never shake when you're treating someone, with your back turned away from him, you swallow down a sob.

“There was this girl, she had red hair like one of those…” he sighs, injuries aching, throat throbbing. “Apples.”

You reach his side once again, trembling fingers dipping into the wound ointment. “You have a way with words.”

He grabs your shaking hands in his, “Are you alright?”

You pause in your frantic movements, blinking rapidly. “Y-you’re the one who's bleeding right now.”

“You're shaking.”

You twist your wrists away from his touch. “I'm alright, worry about yourself and your crew.”

“You're a part of my crew”

“Shut– just…” you exhale. “Continue your story.”

Hobie nods, eyes drooping. “She just one day showed up on the docks, asking for a place.” He inhales sharply. “I needed to fill the second ship so I agreed, I let her in. I shouldn't have done it.” His eyes well up but no tears fall. “I should've turned her away but she was determined, she had the skills to stay— can you give me somethin’ for the pain? A fuckin' rum or wine, anythin’”

“No alcohol, if you want to bleed out be my guest.” You hold a cloth above his wound, pressing down to stop the bleeding as much as you can.

“Fucker!” He stomps his foot, “you can be such a little shit sometimes you know?”

You can hear the struggle upstairs. Weirdly enough, there's no sound of cannons firing.

“I know—” the ship tilts suddenly, flinging you and Hobie brutally to the side. You do your best to shield his injured self, taking the brunt of the impact, back stinging from the wall.

He lands on top of you, arms on your side, face hidden on the crook of your neck. You can feel his staggered breathing on your skin.

Bottles and pans fly towards you two. Pushing him away, you guide each other to the corner of the room, huddled together, protected by the hearth.

“Shit!” Hobie protects your head with his hand when a pot flies towards you. The ship keeps turning and tossing the both of you until it finally straightens out, you can feel how fast its going by how wild the utensils are swinging.

“Someone got hold of the helm.” He whispers, his cool hand on your tender shoulder. “We're running.” Hobie doesn't say it with pride or dejection, he utters it with embarrassment.

“That's good,” you stand up, giving him a helping hand. “We can get out—”

The unmistakable sound of a cannonball whizzes past and the ship lunges harshly on the side again. You can hear frantic yells from above.

Hobie takes your hand, “I need to get up there.”

Helping him up, you nod. “And you will, let me close that wound off and give you something for the pain and we'll go back up there.”

“Y/N, you can't—”

“We will go up there.” the fire in your eyes makes him obey. “Sit down, I'll make this quick but not painless.”

He flops down, masking the pain with a grimace. Inhaling, he continues. “I let MJ in.”

You pause for a second before taking the metal poker. “Even after seeing all the bloody signs.” He sighs. “Maybe I am blind.”

You hold his face tenderly. “You were, but you still have a chance to change that. You can still help your crew. Make it right for their sake.”

He holds the back of your neck, kneading the skin with his bloodied fingers. “I don't regret letting you stay.”

You look at him apologetically. “You will after this.” Shoving the leather pot holder in his mouth, moving aside his clothes. “Inhale” you place the hot poker directly on his bullet wound, cauterizing the gaping hole.

It sizzles, Hobie holds on to your sides tightly, bunching up the fabric in his hands. Muffled screams eaten up by the leather in his mouth.

You move the rod away once it's done. Hobie's eyes roll in the back of his head. Slapping him lightly, he wakes back up.

“Stay awake, hey. Look at me.” He stares at you through half-lidded eyes. “There you are, captain.” You smile to reassure him. He gives you a tired nod. “Now for the exit wound.”

Hobie inhales, more than ready this time around. His skin is clammy, eyes red from the brimming tears. He clenches his entire body, determined to get it over with. Twisting around in his seat, he hopes the ship doesn't rock as you push the searing metal poker on the back of his shoulder.

With a muffled yell from him, you take the tool away, letting it cool down. Moving his head with your hand, you look at him apologetically.

“I'm sorry, if I warned you first you would've flinched.”

Hobie spits the leather out of his mouth, patting your cheek with his sweaty hand, he leaves it there, stroking your skin.

“I wouldn't have flinched.” He chuckles through the searing pain.

“Of course you wouldn't.” You hold his hand that's on top of your cheek. “You did good.”

He laughs, hand leaving your skin to hold your hand instead. “Not the first time I've felt fire.”

You smile, without thinking, you lay your forehead on his as more cannonballs fly around the revenge.

“You did good too.” He whispers. Eyes closed, he leans away. “Now get me something for the pain and let's get the bastard.”

You smile, nodding to him. Taking a bottle from your bag, you rub mint oil on his upper lip, igniting his nerves, keeping him awake.

“That's the only thing I have that could help. I can't give you alcohol.”

Hobie tentatively stands up, “Maybe after this then.” He groans, slightly limping. “‘m gonna need an entire crate of ‘em.” he thinks adrenaline is enough to keep him on his feet.

He faces you, a ghost of a smile on his pained face. Hobie bends at the waist, you scramble to help him but he refuses with his hand raising to stop you. Taking something from inside his boot, he grabs a shiny and slender thing.

“Here.” Hobie hands a silver dagger to you, intricate carvings of a turtle and a sea snake looping around the glimmering handle. “Somethin’ to defend yourself.”

“Are you sure? It looks—”

“I don't mind givin’ it to you.” He closes your hand around the hilt. “Make sure this one hits his neck this time.”

“I will.” Your eyes fill with determination, adrenaline still coursing through you.

He wobbles towards the door, sparing you a smile on the way.

“Hobie,” you call after him. “Continue your story after this?”

“Only if you tell me yours.” He looks over his shoulder, giving you the same smile he always has.

You scoff with a small smile, “Maybe I will.”

“Let's fuckin’ go and be pirates then.”

—

Getting up the deck was tedious work with all the rocking and shifting from the ship and the wild waves, add that with all the cannon balls whizzing past, it was like riding an angry bull. Meeting halfway with Karl on the way there made it easier, filling your chest with hope.

“Where's Robbie?!” He frantically yells, forehead bleeding, hands gripping Hobie's vest.

“I-I don't know.” Karl's face falls. “But we'll find him, I know he got out.”

“Got out from what?” His voice trembles, “what happened, Hobie?”

Hobie holds his friend’s wrist, “I'm sorry.” Karl weeps. “Go find Robbie and your crew.” He shakes his head. “And get the hell out of here, he's after me not you.”

Karl's eyes fill with tears, flicking towards you who look on with sad eyes. “What about you and the others?”

“We'll find a way out. We always do, remember?” Hobie reassures him with a smile. “Take one of my dinghies, and row the hell out of here.” he takes Karl's hands away from his vest. “We'll see you back at the old place, yeah?”

“You fucking better, Hobart or I'll drown you myself.” Karl takes your hand briefly, nodding. “I hope I see you again, doc.”

“Me too, captain. Find Robbie.”

You part ways with Karl, praying that he finds Robbie and what remains of his men.

“Ready, trouble?” Hobie gets your attention by brushing his pinky against the back of your hand.

“I'm right behind you.”

—

It's war.

The moment Hobie opened the door to the deck you smell petrichor and blood in the air.

You get a glimpse of the battle before he could shut the doors. Bodies, both pirates and navy alike lay motionless on the floor. The sound of thunder mixes in with the pained yells, flashes of lightning illuminates the night sky and you see the faces of the dead clearly.

Two-fingers lay face first on the deck, arms bent at an angle, blood pooling from his head. Through the smoke and splintered wood, Foul screams when a sword plunges through his heart, silencing him immediately. Danny takes a bullet for Finn who promptly avenges him with his cutlass, swiftly separating the man's head from his body.

One face you were hoping was among the dead was missing. Mathias isn't on board.

Something flashes in his eyes when he looks at you. Grabbing your arm, he leans in, your heart stops.

Hobie moves past your head to press his forehead on your shoulder. Bathing in your presence, hand squeezing your skin

“Hobie?”

He smiles, moving his hand up to cup your jaw. Chuckling, he cleans his dried blood off your cheek with his thumb. “Do me a favour, Scuttlebutt?”

“What is it? We need to get up there!”

Hobie ignores you, leaning away. “Survive for me would you? Live, find your family. Promise me.” He sniffs, eyes glinting.

“What?”

“Just promise me, trouble.” He shakes you.

“Alright I promise. Can we—”

“I'm sorry.”

“What—?” Hobie pushes you hard, you fall off the steps, landing on your behind, he exits without looking back, shutting the doors closed. “What the fuck?!”

You rattle the doorknob but it's no use, he locked it on the outside. Frustrated, you try to kick in the door, hurting yourself from the hard wood.

“Fuck! Hobie!” You bang the door, peeking through the keyhole you see carnage as Hobie makes quick work of the remaining men. “Let me help!”

The sound of cannon balls going off almost deafens your eardrums. If only you had your lockpick you could open it.

Your lockpick.

It's a stretch but you still run towards your cabin, feet thudding loudly, echoing around the hallways that you've memorized.

You feel relieved after seeing your door. Shouldering it open, you frantically search for the metal on the shelves. The tip of it scratches your hand but you don't care, already bolting off towards the exit. Running off with your bag tied around you, hoping the medical kit inside is enough to treat the wounded, you hold the lockpick in your hand while you run.

Your hope dwindles with every cannon hitting the ship.

Doors whizz past, ankle stinging, the sounds of screams and gunfire makes you sprint faster.

You don't notice the blood soaked hulking man leaving Hobie's cabin.

Running into him, you stagger, tumbling down, heart falling into your stomach as he looks down at you through his nose.

“Hello there.”

Scrambling to get to your feet, you slide under his legs, stabbing his achilles heel with your lockpick. The man screams in agony, you take the opportunity to sprint like you've never ran before. You'd take running away from O’hara any day.

Your lungs scream for you to stop, but you go on as you hear thundering stomping behind you.

There's no exit and you can't run forever.

The metallic click rings behind you, rounding the corner, you barely dodge the bullet aimed at you, nicking your hip.

“Shit!” You almost fall yet you continue on, entering the library, you shut the doors behind you, locking it swiftly.

Lifting your hand away, the sight of your own blood turns your fear into fury. With your trembling hands, you unsheathe the dagger from your belt.

You have a promise to keep, and you never break a promise.

Hiding behind the armchair you always sat on, you crouch down, gripping the dagger, ready to strike like a viper in the sand.

You look back on what she taught you, “Strike fast and hit hard. Don't give them a chance to get back up.” her voice whispers it to you and you intend to follow it.

The door bursts open, splintering the wood to a thousand pieces.

“The captain wants you alive, little birdy. This doesn't have to hurt if you just come with me, eh?” You hear him chuckle lowly, blatantly lying to you.

His heavy footsteps thud closer.

You use the shadows as your guide, the oil lamp left open on the corner table does the work. For once you thank Gwen for forgetting to close the light.

“I can help with your wound. Glue your wings back together again” he whistles. “The red hydra can't help you with that but I can. I'm a surgeon you see.” Getting closer and closer, you time your strike right.

You come out of your hiding place with a battle cry. Still crouches down, “I highly doubt that!” Slicing his tendons in one quick movement. The second he falls to his knees, you stab him in the neck.

Stepping back, he chokes in his own blood. With wide eyes you flinch when he stands, seemingly unaffected but his shaking pupils say otherwise. With a garbled noise from your assailant, he reaches for you.

“What the fuck?!”

With a split second decision, you dodge his hands, moving backwards, throwing books from the shelves which bounce almost harmlessly on his head and body.

There's a loud thrumming sound outside, its warbling is almost mechanical but definitely something an animal could've made.

He heard it too, pausing in his movement for a second before he lunged towards you. With a scream, your back against the corner, he jumps you.

Your head hits the wall in an ugly crunch, seeing stars, sliding down the wall, landing on the floor, he chokes you with his bare hands. Indistinct noises escape from his mouth, your dagger nowhere to be found in his throat. His entire body hides anything in front of you, drowning your vision, filling it with your murderer. His blood drips down on your face, almost drowning you in it.

You know he's running on fumes but based on your vision fading, lungs gasping for air, you think you'd go out first before him.

Hands grazing something metallic on the floor next to you, you inch your fingers towards it. Finally finding your grip, you smack it on his head.

You've got a promise to keep after all.

He yells, the oil from the lamp spreading on his skin and clothes, engulfing him in flames.

You frantically roll away, killing the fire clinging to your clothes until there's nothing left but burned cloth.

The flames light up the entire room in orange and reds, the paper around him helps feed the fire as he tries to desperately put it out.

There's that thrumming again.

You watch on, holding your tender neck. Your face is flat, eyes reflecting the fire that's quickly eating at the man. Fabric burns on his flesh, flesh turns into charred muscle, the fire eats at that too until he falls, silence hanging in the room except for the fire cackling, ashes and flames surrounding his corpse.

You stand up, ratty shoes stepping over fire to grab the fallen dagger with a thick cloth from your bag.

For a second you stand amidst the fire.

The thrumming outside and the warmth wakes you up, flames licking at your clothes, it's heat scorching your skin, nose filling with smoke. Even with all the pain you still escape with your life, determined to keep your promise.

Running outside the former library, the cracking of splintering wood fills your ears, you instinctively dodge, backing away before the mast of the revenge falls on your head.

Shielding your face, you cower. The mast stills, sharp wood lay next to your feet. Tentatively opening your eyes, the sounds from above are clearer in your ears, all the screams and guns going off, you hear it loud and clear that you can decipher whose screams belong to whom.

The fog enters below deck through the gaping hole left by the broken mast. All the while, the smoke from the library rises up, replacing the mist.

Your exit.

You don't hesitate to climb up. Jagged edges of sharp wood rip amd snag your clothes, stabbing your skin. Finding leverage, you manage to prop yourself up on the deck, meeting face to face with a lifeless Ned.

The light in his eyes is gone, unsung music escaping from his open lips. Skin dirtied by flowing ichor.

You don't hear anything else other than skin meeting skin in a brutal dance.

“No.” You quickly jump up, leaving the fire behind you to consume, to devour what's left of the revenge. “Ned?”

Desperately feeling for a pulse, your heart wretches in your throat, saliva filling your mouth, bile rising up from your gut.

There's no pulse.

With a choked sob, you close his eyes for him. The sound of wet punching makes you turn to your side. Hobie's eyes are wild, vicious and desperate, bloodied knuckles pummeling the man under him. Skin broken, nose cracked, skull open for the world to see. Yet, Hobie doesn't stop even with the obvious signs of death. Fueled by rage, he paints the wooden floorboards with the man's brain.

It all feels sickenly real, your heart is still beating in sync with his punches but there's so much death around you that you feel like you're a part of the dead. Blood and smoke filling your senses, adrenaline slowly washed away like the tides.

You're sitting in a graveyard and nobody else has noticed.

“Hobie.”

His fists pound harshly through the man's head, splintered wood now embedded in his skin.

You apprehensively crawl towards him, your various injuries aching, blood seeping out from your hip. The chaos around you still continues on while he still doesn't stop.

“Hobie—” your fingers brush his arm, he flinches back, fist raised to knock you out. But he halts, knuckles kissing the tip of your nose, painting it with crimson.

With wide eyes, he heaves, muscles tensed, grief all over his expression. You shove your fear down, holding his raised knuckles, moving it away gently. You hold his face in your other hand, smearing the fresh ichor on his cheeks, staining your own skin.

“It's done, he's dead.” You nod, caressing his face, turning it away from the carnage below him. “Hobie,” you unclench his fist carefully, shattered bone and hair sticking to him. With a shallow breath, you let the tears flow on your cheeks. “He's dead.”

His face flashes with fury only to be triumphed over by misery. With a heavy heart, he nods.

Behind Hobie, a uniformed man raises his pistol, without a second thought, you take the golden blunderbuss from his waist, hastily aiming it directly at the man's head.

Your ears ring, the smoke from the gun blinds you for a second before you see your target fall dead with a bullet right between his eyes, blood splattering like fireworks from his head.

Hobie looks at you in surprise, taking his gun away from you carefully. Hands soft on your raised skin. He pats your cheek and you could only shake your head.

“We need to—” the ship collides with something, Hobie holds you close, covering you away from debris. With his embrace, he protects you. Scarred hand on the back of your head, face hiding in the crook of your neck. Leather, sea salt and blood invades your senses.

The hellion is once again looming over the revenge, its golden façade cracking under the damage made by Hobie's ship.

Mathias shows himself, looking worse for wear, he wobbles on two feet, clutching his injuries.

You hear footsteps around you, raising your head, eyes widening at what's left of the crew, they stand behind you and Hobie. Wiping blood off their faces, reloading their guns, sharpening their swords. The red sails of the people's revenge still fly above, more than ready to take what they're owed, no matter what it takes.

Gwen's blond hair is dipped in ruby red, hands tight around her blunderbuss. Miles wipes his face clean, stepping next to Gwen with clenched jaw. Pavitr stands directly behind you, face covered in what you hoped to be someone else's blood. He nods, reassuring you.

Yuri and James take one look at Ned, their expression alone could make you weep again. Finn, crouches down next to you, nodding wordlessly, blue eyes glossy.

Hobie exhales, with shaky legs he stands up, helping you back to your feet. Gripping your knife, you scowl at the man above.

“How cute. The power of friendship isn't enough to save you.” Mathias says through gritted teeth.

The rest of his crew arrives, there's less ships than before, proving how the bloodsail pirates is a force to be reckoned with. They have what Mathias doesn't have, giving them something worth fighting for.

Mathias nods, signaling his ship to turn their cannons towards you and your family.

You step in front of Hobie. “I have a proposition!” Yelling above the rain and metallic clanking, you push away Hobie's hand from your shoulder.

“What is it?” The man rolls his eyes, looking incredibly bored. “We can't be here all night.”

“Me,” the crew voices their concerns, Hobie takes your hand, face terrified.

You smile, “it's alright.” Whispering to him and the crew only. With tearful eyes, you turn back to the devil above. “You seem like you really want me, so fucking take me instead. Let them go.”

You feel the heat beneath your feet. The fire devours everything just a few feet below you.

They all yell your name behind you. Protests fill your ears but you choose to ignore them. You feel his calloused fingers squeeze your hand.

The man guffaws, “Holy shit! You like them that much?” He observes Hobie's contorted face.

“You like her that much?” He chuckles. “You know what? I don't even want you that much, sure, get on up here, birdy!”

There's that thrumming and warbling again. It's much clearer now that you're above, it seems like it's coming from beneath the ship.

“Come here and take me then!” The rain mixes in with your salty tears. Raising your arms, shoving everyone away, you taunt him. “But let them go or I'll plunge this dagger through your eye!”

“Christ, you're as insane as him. Perfect for eachother eh?” he sighs, gesturing for his cannons to cease. “I'm already satisfied even though a few of your men escaped from a dinghy but eh, I'm sure I'll get them soon enough. Just like how I'll get you one day, little pirate. I'm a very patient man, I'll wait three more years if I have to.”

Hobie's face is full of anguish when he swivels you around to look at him. “Don't fuckin' do this. He won't keep his word,” he flicks his eyes to Mathias, then back to you, grey eyes darker than before. “the moment you step foot on that ship he'll kill you.” his mind comes back to that fateful day.

He can't let that happen again, not to you.

You look at him softly. “I know, but I'll make it hard for him, that'll give you enough time to escape. Hobie, I have nothing else, just this.” swallowing the lump in your throat, there's heat under your eyes. Taking his hand, you squeeze it once. “Let me do this, for you and for them. You still have to get your revenge so let me do this. Don't let him win.”

“You promised.” His voice cracks.

“I don't think I can keep it now.” You flick your eyes behind him, the crew looks on with grief marring their eyes. “They're too young for this, Gwen, Pav and Miles, they deserve to live too.”

You hear the rope fall from the hellion's deck. “I'm glad I got stuck in that net even though you made me walk the plank.” chuckling through the tears, you give them your best smile to remember you by.

“Don't leave.” he pleads.

Sliding your hand away, you take one last look at them, making a sketch of their faces in your mind to remember when the inevitable happens.

“I have to go now or this won't work.”

The captain has no plan on how to fix it, how to fix everything, and he beats himself bloody for it.

Turning around, with every step you take feels heavier than the last. You make amends to her in your mind, praying that it reaches back home. You also thank her, but you don't regret running away that day.

You'll never know what lies for you up north or if there's someone there waiting for you. If there is someone, you apologize to them too.

You leave traces of yourself to the people behind you with the hope you live on through those pieces. That at least they won't forget your name.

The howling wind and rain whips at your drenched form, committing the feel of it to memory.

Grabbing the rope, you fight the urge to look behind.

“Hurry up, birdy!” Mathias cackles. “Come on then—!”

The thrumming is deafening, everything seems to freeze mid motion.

Giant mounds of flesh rise up from the water. Snake-like features curl above, rising to the heavens, cutting through the grey clouds.

You can't help but be mesmerized by the beauty of it. Iridescent scales glimmer against the lightning, cracked scales teeming in gold. the lightning bolts ricochet off their scaly skin, unharmed.

More serpents appear from the depths, towers of scaled flesh. They rain sea water from above, dripping from their massive bodies.

One curls just above the hellion, opening its eyes, revealing an entire ocean in its orbs.

You can't stop looking at it, petrified.

“Dragons.” You say in awe.

“Y/N!” Hobie races towards you. His hand brushes against your shirt, so close yet so far.

You get yanked up with the hellion, grip still frozen on the ropes. Holding on for life, the beast has curled around the ship, in your peripheral you see men jumping off, splashing down into the depths, taking their chances in the cold.

Facing the creature, they trill and thrum, crushing the hellion and the navy ships in their massive jaws and swirling flesh.

You wake up from the trance they had you in, almost losing your grip off the rope.

“No!” You screech, saving yourself, arm socket straining against your weight. Twirling the rope around your hand, you tie it just like how they taught you.

Palms burning on the hemp, looking down, you're hanging high above the revenge. You watch as the crew frantically unties a dinghy while Hobie and Finn stay behind, they're too far for you to make out what they're doing.

Your only chance is to jump in the water but you know that'll be the end of you.

Water parts for something swimming fast under the water, it moves towards the Revenge. You scream their names in an attempt to warn them.

“Gwen!” Your throat struggles from the screaming. “Brace yourselves!”

The serpent crashes on the starboard side, away from where the small boat hangs. Hobie clings to the remaining mast, knife in his hand. Heart pounding, you watch as Gwen runs towards Hobie, he yells, she shakes her head but in the end she bolts for the dinghy. You nod, hoping she saw that you forgave her.

The beast constricts around the helion, crashing the oak and its gilded carvings in its wrapped body.

You sway in the wind with the serpent’s movements, praying that the rope hangs on to the figure head. The figure head of an angel looks down at you, lifeless eyes observing your slow demise.

This is the end for you, you've never thought you'd be killed by a mythical being turned into reality but here you are, hanging on by a thread, waiting for death to come.

With one last glimpse at the revenge, you see the fire finally reaching above deck. Gwen and the others lower down on the dinghy while Hobie grabs onto a rope, cutting the knot off the steel rings, remembering James' teachings, if he keeps doing that he’ll get yanked up, and with the wild wind, it will surely be a disaster.

You yell his name in a futile attempt to stop his effort at saving you.

Finn raises something in his hands, heaving it over his shoulder.

You sharply turn your head when a snapping sound fills your ears. The hemp untangles, with the rope breaking in the middle, you close your eyes.

The sea serpent lets out a guttural scream, the sound alone sends shivers down your spine. It uncurls around the hellion and you get a glimpse of a sharp harpoon sticking out from its eye.

Falling with the hellion, the serpent's eyes turn from blue to a bloody red, bathing everything in its gaze in crimson. it's the last thing you see before you shut your eyes.

You feel a familiar arm around your middle, looking over your shoulder, you think you've already died.

“I've got you!” Hobie yells, with him carrying you and his hand grasping on the rising rope, he struggles to hold on.

So you help him, wrapping your arm behind him, you hold the rope in the other, face close to his as you two fly above the revenge, swinging and whipping uncontrollably in the storm.

The beast trills, jaw unhinging, its rows of shark like teeth in full display.

“Shit!” Hobie manipulates the rope to swing you two away from its sharp teeth.

It fails to catch you, instead it turns its attention to Finn on the deck.

“Finn! Run!” Your blood curdling scream gets his attention, yet he pays no heed.

But everyone already knows it's too late, with one last fight in him, he raises his harpoon, yelling, meeting the serpent's opened mouth halfway.

It swallows him whole.

You just stare at where Finn once stood, he leaves patches of his ichor on the floor.

The revenge sinks, fire and water engulfing Hobie's home, your home.

“Love!” The name rots in his mouth, it gets you out of your frozen state. “I—”

The last standing mast cracks and breaks apart. You lose your grip on Hobie.

And you fall once again. For a second you fly, eyes peering towards the clearing sky, with white clouds in your vision, you brace for impact.

“MJ!”

That's the last thing you hear as you fall in the depths in a harsh splash.

A/N: so sorry for the late update!! Hope you like it 🫶 (if i forgot to put any warnings on the tags please tell me)

#bdas #between the devil and the sea #between the devil and the sea series #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #hobie brown #atsv fanfiction #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #pirate hobie #pirate! hobie? pirate! hobie! #pirate au #hobie brown x fem!reader #spider punk x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #pirate! hobie #pirate! hobie x reader #cw vomit #cw injury #tw blood #cw violence #tw death #cw guns #fanfic #between the devil and the sea chapter 7

[yazthebookish]

House of Flame and Shadow

Prologue and Chapter 1 reading updates

(Warning: spoilers below!!)

Prologue (Lidia's POV)

Morven and Einar are pieces of shit.

I guess Cormac is gone for good 💔

At least we got some descriptions of how some of the other Asteri look like. It still bothers me Rigelus chose the form of a 17-year-old boy. Ugh what a creep.

"Quinlan and Athalar are mates. She will return to this world because of that bond. And when she does, she will go straight to him."

THEY 👏🏼 ARE 👏🏼 MATES 👏🏼

"Athalar and Baxian dangled unconscious from the ceiling, their torsos patchworks of scars and burns. And their backs..."

The Asteri better start counting their fucking days.

"Lidia couldn't look at the third figure hanging between them. Couldn't get a breath down near him."

UGH!!!!

"Baxian still hung unconscious. Pollux had beaten him into a bloody pulp last night after severing his and Athalar's wings with a blunt-toothed saw. The Helhound didn't so much as stir."

Pollux I hope you'll burn in the deepest pit of Hell and get to have the worst death in the history of SJM character deaths.

"They'd never spoken mind-to-mind outside of their dreaming, but she'd been trying since he'd arrived here. Again and again, she'd cast her mind toward his. Only silence answered."

This sounds a whole lot like a Daemati. Like I'm still not sure if she is but it seems like it.

---

Chapter 1 (Bryce's POV)

"The darkness seemed inherent to the three people standing across from her: a petite female in gray silk, and two winged males clad in black scalelike armor, one of them-the beautiful, powerful male in the center of the trio— literally rippling with shadows and stars. Rhysand, he'd called himself. The one who looked so much like Ruhn."

Let's fucking gooooo!!

"You said your name is Bryce Quinlan. That you come from another world —Midgard." Rhysand murmured to the winged male beside him. Translating, perhaps.

Yes Rhys show us how useful your Duolingo lessons were.

Rhys seems to be agitated about her.

Master of spinning bullshit, indeed. "So maybe I'm here for that. Maybe the sword sensed that dagger and ... brought me to it." Silence. Then the silent, hazel-eyed warrior laughed quietly. How had he understood without Rhysand translating? Unless he could simply read her body language, her tone, her scent—The warrior spoke with a low voice that skittered down her spine. Rhysand glanced at him with raised brows, then translated for Bryce with equal menace, "You're lying."

Bryce, honey, that's the Spymaster of the Night Court.

"I just watched my mate and my brother get captured by a group of intergalactic parasites," she snarled. "I have no interest in doing anything except finding a way to help them." Rhysand looked to the warrior, who nodded, not taking his gaze off Bryce for so much as a blink. "Well," Rhysand said to Bryce, crossing his muscled arms. "That's true, at least."

Not Azriel functioning as Rhysand's personal lie detector. Impressive though.

" I do not pry where I am not willingly invited." Bryce lurched back in the chair, nearly knocking it over at the smooth male voice in her mind. Rhysand's voice. But she answered, thanking Luna for keeping her own voice cool and collected, "Code of mind-speaking ethics?"

LOLOLOLOLOL 🤣🤣🤣🤣

"So this is it, then. This is where we-the Midgard Fae— originated. My ancestors left this world and went to Midgard. .. and we forgot where we came from."

The theory I had since before even HOSAB came out is finally confirmed. I mean it was semi-confirmed in HOSAB but some readers still debated it.

The corner of Rhysand's mouth curled upward. "We will not torture it from you, nor will I pry it from your mind. If you choose not to talk, it is indeed your choice. Precisely as it will be my choice to keep you down here until you decide otherwise."

Bryce couldn't stop herself from coolly surveying the room, her attention lingering on the grate and the hissing that drifted up from it. "'ll be sure to recommend it to my friends as a vacation spot."

Of course Rhys has to pull the "choice" speech whenever he can 🤣 also, BRYCE LOL!!!

"You haven't seen it in fifteen thousand years, or spoken this language in nearly as long-which lines up pertectly with the timeline of the Starborn Fae arriving in Midgard."

So they exist in the same timeline then but Midgard happens to be more advanced.

"It is in our history, Rhysand," Amren said gravely. "But the Asteri were not known by that name. Here, they were called the Daglan."

Asteri are the Daglan, we guessed as much in HOSAB but that's another theory confirmed now!

"Azriel, without Rhysand to translate, watched in silence. Bryce could have sworn shadows wreathed him, like Ruhn's, yet... wilder. The way Cormac's had been."

Ruhn's darkness seemed more similar to Rhys, but Cormac was close to what we know of Shadowsingers. But if Shadows are an Avallen Fae's gifts then how is Azriel one? We're told Shadowsingers are not specific to any courts but there are no Shadowsinger Fae in Midgard than Avallen Fae. But Azriel has a unique way with his shadows (given that magic is more powerful in Prythian.

"The Veritas orb?" Amren said, and Azriel lifted an eyebrow.

Oh damn.

Rhysand mastered himself, a cool mask sliding into place. "You live in such a world." It wasn't entirely a question. But Bryce nodded. "Yes." "And they want to bring all of that ... here." "Yes." Rhysand stared ahead. Thinking it through. Azriel just kept his eyes on the space where the orb had displayed the utter destruction of her world. Dreading-and yet calculating. She'd seen that look before on Hunt's face. A warrior's mind at work.

She showed them the destruction and all the weapons the Asteri have. She even showed them Rigelus. Rhys, Azriel, and even Amren seem at a loss for words.

Bryce examined the silver bean that lay smooth and gleaming in her hand. Amren said without looking at her, "You swallow it, and it will translate our mother tongue for you. Allow you to speak it, too." "Fancy," Bryce murmured.

Of course they have a pill for translating any language and here we've been pondering about how they would communicate.

Amen turned to Rhysand and said in that new, strange language -their language: "The glowing letters inked on her back... they're the same as those in the Book of Breathings."

Oooooh Leshon Hakodesh 👀

Then Azriel said in a soft, lethal voice, "Explain or you die."

Holy hell that's hot—I mean—Azriel that's not a way to treat a woman chill the fuck out.

---

And we got to the end. This is what SJM only had available on her website. 4 more days until I get the full book and continue then 🤩!!

Also, Azriel's shadows seem to be around and thriving after all 😌 I recall being told they're gone for good based on HOSAB's ending, not that I took it seriously Lol.

#hofas spoilers #yaz reads hofas

[esamastation]

Shizuroth, part twenty-three

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two

-

Sephiroth has the loveliest flow going. The balance he is maintaining is extremely delicate for all the energy he's working with, but his Qi it's beginning to slowly circulate, he can feel it starting to pool in his lower dantian, there's even the beginnings of a proper spin going on. He's progressing at an incredible speed, really, it's unheard of! This body is really something else - he almost feels like he's getting close to a breakthrough already!

And then something interrupts him.

First comes the sense of danger, of the world around him around changing. The scenery stutters as the hologram breaks, reforming itself around him. Sephiroth, briefly, loses his footing, and the flow is distributed.

Then the hologram forms into the shape of a monster. An enormous cat with horns and blue and red fur, a Behemoth, roars into life and turns to him.

Sephiroth's heart skips a beat and the energy flow stutters, jitters - stalls.

"Now, Sephiroth," comes a voice through the speakers, an unnervingly thrilled sounding, almost giggling. "You have done well - now let's see you maintain that state against an opponent!"

Sephiroth's breath catches and he tastes blood.

The Qi-deviation crashes down on him like a twenty ton boulder, and his still unprepared system has no defence against it.

He burns.

Everything burns.

Cang Qiong Mountain Sect burned in the original text. Luo Binghe wrecked total devastation on the once greatest sect in the world, he killed everyone who fought, he hunted down everyone who fled, and those who knelt before him he spared - to become his servants, his slaves. A deserved retribution for all they'd done and all they failed to do.

Shen Yuan once saw a house fire down the street. An old couple had been cooking, something had gone wrong, the kitchen caught on fire. Before anyone could do anything the whole building was up in flames, and best the firefighters could hope for was to contain the flames. It was an old building, traditional and beautiful. Gone in an instant.

Half of Sephiroth's promotional art is him against a backdrop of flames, as he burns down the protagonist's home town.

He knows, on the inside, what's happening. He knows it intellectually. Though he'd not gone through many Qi deviations as Shen Qingqiu, he studied them, he'd witnessed them. It seemed like not a month went by without one disciple or another crashing down in a fit of Qi-deviation. Plus there was Liu Qingge and his deviation.

You can never really control how a Qi-deviation would go. It could be mental with uncontrollable emotions, it could be physical with sudden incredible changes, or it could be spiritual with any number of side effects. Or it could just be a week-long coma and a fever. Shen Qingqiu once saw a Qi-deviation that made one of his disciples as light as a feather - the mountain winds almost blew her off the peak! And another time, a disciple of his turned into a dog for a month. PIDW really just didn't do logic and reason when it comes to these things.

In Final Fantasy VII you just go mad, it turns out.

"Well done Sephiroth!" The Voice cries out triumphantly as the behemoth shatters into pixels. "Now, let's see you deal with -"

Sephiroth feels like a backseat driver in his own body, as it swings his sword, and in an instant all the speakers in the training room are reduced to scrap. He then follows with a sequence of swipes and swings that leaves the gun-metal grey walls all around him covered in slashes, sparks raining down on him as the hologram projectors join the speakers in their sorry fate.

Then he turned to the window, and the face plastered against it.

"Sephiroth, what are you doing - stop this instant -"

The glass shatters with an intensely gratifying crash, and The Voice squeaks in fright. Sephiroth smiles, and stalks forward.

"SOLDIERs, get in here - stop him! Stop him!"

The Voice is scampering away now, running - while others rush into his place, to stand in front of Sephiroth. 

All dressed identically, all smaller than him, all of them shaking. They hold their swords up to him, but they're shaking. They don't even dare to make a move against him. They're waiting for him to begin.

Sephiroth sees double for a moment, as sparks of green electricity become leaves and the pipes and cables hanging from the ceiling turn into bamboo stalks.

Ah, what cute and obedient disciples they are! 

"Very well, this master shall start. Get ready," he murmurs, smiling, and makes the first move.

The disciple stumbles, barely in time with his guard and Sephiroth has to pull his attack back to keep the disciple's own sword from hurting them.

"Again - don't focus on the blade, read the body!" Sephiroth says. "Start with this master's hands, see how they move - follow them. Then follow the arms, read the movement of the shoulders. Don't worry! By the time the master is done, you will know where your opponent will strike from the placement of their feet alone."

He makes a few attacks against the disciple until he's satisfied with their defence, and then turns to another. They duck to avoid his blade.

"Good! But don't waste this momentum. When you parry, use the momentum of your body to lead you to another attack. Don't waste energy - in a fight, every move should count. Mind your form!"

Then another startled disciple, who takes his sword head on and is knocked off their feet. "Plant your feet, bend your knees. Stand firm," Sephiroth says, pulling them back to their feet. "Everything begins with your footing. Not like that - you're left-handed, so bring your other foot forward, that's it, now, again -"

He corrects their form until he's absolutely certain none of them have any idea what they're doing! His poor disciples, they can't even remember the basic stances.

"There's no use - everyone, form up into lines," Sephiroth orders, tutting slightly. "Quickly now - not like that, leave plenty of space in between, you don't want to accidentally swing at your neighbour once we start…"

The shocked and confused SOLDIERs form into lines in the destroyed training room as Sephiroth stands in front of them like an amused school teacher. 

"Good. Now, follow this master's lead," Sephiroth says, smiling at them fondly. "He will show you how it's done."

Behind him a destroyed camera crashes into the ground.

-

Get Shizun'd.

#fanfiction #ff7 #ffvii #svsss #sephiroth #shen qingqiu #shen yuan

[strangesthirdeye]

Flaming Sword 🔪🔥🔥

Crowley: didn't you have a flaming sword?

Aziraphale: *sweatdropped* err

Crowley: you do! It was flaming like anything. What happened to it?

Aziraphale:...

Crowley: lost it already, have you?

Aziraphale: *look away awkwardly* i gave it away

Crowley: YOU WHAT?!

Aziraphale: I gAvE iT aWaY!!!!

#david tennant #good omens #crowley good omens x reader #crowley #aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #azicrow #incorrect good omens quotes #good omens 2 #good omens x reader #micheal sheen #neil gaiman #amazon prime #terry pratchett

[chococolte]

SAGAU! How would they prove themselves to you? (Ft. Xiao, Gorou and Kaeya?) If it’s not an issue?

word count. 1.2k

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, religous + cult themes, sagau + cult au, kaeya and xiao both have" i will stab myself if you ask me" moments, in gorou's it's mentioned he's willing to cut his tail and ears off for u, g/n reader. i do not condone yanderes irl.

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. i wrote these really quickly so im sorry abt their quality uahhh

kaeya

Kaeya feels sick.

A bitter taste is resting on his tongue. He doesn't know what it is. He doesn't really care much for it, anyway. All he knows is that he's scared.

It's a strange feeling. One he thought he had done off with by now.

But this fear is different. It churns in his stomach. His entire body shakes with every trembling breath as he realizes what he's feared the most has happened.

You don't want him.

Kaeya is aware you didn't say that, but it's implied. In your gaze, in the way you walk past him. You don't want him. You don't care for him.

You did, once. He remembers it clearly. Your control was brilliant. Like stars in the night sky. You kept him warm when the cold encroached too closely on his heart. You kept him safe from every dark, nasty thought.

With you, he was whole. With you, he did not drown himself in drink. With you, he was finally at peace.

And then you were ripped away from him. And now you're throwing him away.

It hurts more than he imagined, despite the fact that he knew it would happen eventually. He wants to tear at his skin until it peels off, wants to pull at his hair; he wants to grab his sword, stab something until it bleeds.

Kaeya knows he shouldn't. He should be strong for you. He should show you how capable he is. He should show you how deserving he is of your attention. He should show you that he is worthy of your light, of the warmth emanating from you.

Kaeya knows he should detest you. He shouldn't be desperate for your love, like some dog bereft of affection until you. He shouldn't be this close to kneeling and begging you, he shouldn't be this close to tears at the mere thought of never feeling your warmth again.

But he is. He swallows down the bile in his throat, and grabs his sword.

If he must prove himself to you, he will.

Whatever it takes. Whatever it entails.

If you demand him to throw himself into the flames, he will. If you order him to kneel and impale himself onto his sword, he will do so without hesitation.

All that he asks in return is a glimpse of you. All that he wants is for you to touch him, in whatever way you please. Hit him, slap him, take your foot and kick him in the stomach— it doesn't matter. As long as your eyes are on him. As long as he can feel you again.

Don't you know how cold it is without you?

xiao

Xiao has never been so close to screaming before.

It's unlike him. It is unlike your silent protector, your second shadow. He should be calm. He should be composed, ready to strike at any threat against you.

He shouldn't be like this, ready to throw himself in your lap and beg you to please look at him. Please love him. Please give him just a modicum of attention.

It's unbearable, claws scratching at his throat. Every second that goes by while he's aware that you think of him as unworthy is another spent in agony.

Xiao knows it's not his place to demand anything of you. He is not so arrogant as to believe he is in any way in a position to do so.

But it's difficult. It's difficult to keep himself calm and composed when he sees you touching another, so freely giving out what he so desperately desires. It's difficult to keep himself from piercing whoever is lucky enough to grab your attention for longer than a second. Jealousy wraps around his throat and squeezes.

It's not that you don't want them. You just don't want him.

What is it about him that you dislike? His clothes, his face, the way he stands? Do you find his lack of emotion distasteful; do you hate his silence, do you find how bashful he gets in your presence unpleasant?

Do you hate him? But you liked him once. You had used him, once. Loved him. What's different now?

Is he boring to you? Do you find him undeserving, now?

Then he must simply be interesting. He must simply prove himself to you.

He is deserving. He is worthy. He is. Why are you acting like he's nothing? Why are you acting like you don't care anymore?

Xiao feels betrayed. Bitter. But he can't stop the quiet tears from cascading down his cheeks, silent prayers of which you deign not to answer.

Whatever it is you want from him, he will give. If you desire for him to break his contract with Rex Lapis, he will see to it. If you want him to swear fealty only to you, he will do it. If you want him to turn his back on the people of Liyue, pick up his blade and taint himself ever further, he will do it.

If his death is what you wish, he will see it through. All that he asks is that in his final moments, that you please run your fingers through his hair.

gorou

Gorou can't stop himself from shaking.

You denied him again. He doesn't know what he did wrong.

He should be strong. Imposing. He shouldn't care about whether you want him or not as much as he does.

You're a God. You're his God. If you don't want him, then he will simply live his life in the background of yours. He doesn't need to be the one sitting by your feet, he doesn't need to be the one worshiping you directly— he doesn't, yet his heart still cracks when you turn away.

Gorou is aware that he isn't all that special to begin with. Not compared to some of your other worshipers. Archons bow at the bottom of your throne, and whisper threats at each other when you turn. The strongest of every nation kneel and do as you command without complaint.

He is merely a general of an island from Inazuma. To the people of Watatsumi, he is important— but to you? To God? He is nothing. What is he that you have not already seen before?

It's why he tries to stifle his feelings of bitterness and sadness.

You don't need him. He doesn't need you.

He doesn't, he tells himself, but tears still soak his pillows every night. His lips and ears still tremble when he sees you brushing your fingers through the hair of another. His grip on himself falters when he captures a glimpse of the love you so easily show to others.

Why not him? Why not him anymore?

What did he do to anger you? If you would tell him, he would fix it immediately. Some part of him you dislike? He'll change for you. You think his ears and tails are unsightly? He'll do his best to hide from from view. Or would you rather he get rid of them altogether?

He'll say yes, despite the tears in his eyes.

Is it how he breathes, is it how he carries himself, how he holds his bow? What is it? Why don't you like him?

Why don't you love him anymore?

Whatever it is, he can fix it. Gorou can change for you. He'll throw himself in the gutter until he's perfect for you. Until he's exactly how you want him to be.

You'll love him then, won't you?

#[🦇] — my writing #genshin impact #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #sagau #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin cult au #self aware genshin #sagau xiao #sagau kaeya #sagau gorou #yandere kaeya #yandere xiao #yandere gorou #yandere sagau #genshin sagau #gender neutral reader

[chiharuhashibira]

Hi ! Can you do a sanemi and kiojuro (separately) x sick reader and they care for us??🥹

Yep! Let's do this~

However you didn't specify what kind of fic, so Imma just make this an HC. Feel free to re-ask in case~

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚, 𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐤𝐮, & 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Content Warnings: None ^^

🌸𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚🌸

❥ Sanemi wouldn't care about his training if he knew you were feeling sick. He would immediately run towards you and make sure that you were okay. As hotheaded as he is, the Wind Hashira would drop that facade and be the most concerned and caring boyfriend that you could ever imagine.

❥ Sanemi's facade would collapse once he laid eyes on your sick state. He would immediately drop everything, even his precious sword, just to go by your side and take care of you. He'll also shut off other kakushis who will try to take care of you, insisting that he will do that himself. Sanemi had buried too many of his loved ones, and he has always had this fear of losing you. That's why, even on the most minor fevers, he would still give you his 100% attention and care.

❥ The Wind Hashira's surprisingly great at cooking! He would prepare anything that you liked. And if you have no appetite, he would make you his greatest porridge and would definitely feed you, pretending to be annoyed if you wouldn't do so. But then, after eating, he would kiss your lips. "Nope! No protesting." He'll say that even before you can tell him not to kiss you because he might also get sick.

❥ Sanemi would massage every part that was painful. He wants you to be as comfortable as possible, and if it means massaging your whole body the whole night, he'll do it just for you to have a good night's sleep.

❥ He would often caress your cheeks and tell you how much he cared for you. He isn't good with sweet words, but he's great at gestures. Sanemi would make you feel better by making you a little spoon. He also likes to run his fingers over your head, play with your head, or sometimes give you ticklish scratches on the scalp. Sanemi loves to kiss you. A cold won't kill him, he would also often say.

❥ Whenever you wake up at night with pain, he will shoot up from his sleep. Yes, even if he's very tired or injured, he would take care of you. Sanemi will massage you or sometimes cuddle you, hushing you if you cry. Inside, he's panicking, but he won't let you see that. If you ever feel hungry or thirsty, he will quickly get food or water for you. He loves you so much that he doesn't mind these little gestures.

❥ In the morning, when you feel better, he will still check everything. Sometimes, he would poke the painful part at you just to make sure that you weren't lying. Sanemi knows how worried you are about him as well, but you are his priority, so he'll do everything for you. Once he knows that you're really well, Sanemi would kiss your lips and continue to cuddle you all day, hoarding you for himself.

🌸𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐤𝐮🌸

❥ Once Kyojuro knows you're sick, he will immediately finish his training and head to you to make sure that you are okay. Even if he's in the middle of a mission, he'll make sure to finish it quickly so he can take care of you. Yes, even if he's wounded sometimes, the stubborn Flame Hashira still does his best to take care of you.

❥ His first reaction when he sees you will be to be deeply concerned. His eyebrows would crease as he tried to ponder what was wrong with you. You will even find him panicking a bit sometimes, as he hates to see you in pain.

❥ Kyojuro loves eating, but he stinks at cooking. (Sorry, but I think he does XD) So, he would often buy meals on the way home, especially udon, as he says the soup would make you feel better. He will be sad if you don't eat it with him. So, even if your appetite isn't that good, you still take a bite.

❥ The Flame Hashira would often massage you. He loves doing that for you, especially at times like this. Aside from his massages, he would kiss your cheek, shoulder, and forehead, ignoring your complaints as he might also get sick. Oh well, his stamina is better than yours, and you know that. But still...

❥ Kyojuro would always proclaim how much he loved you. Even if you're sick, he will make sure that you know it. He would often let you lay your head on his lap while he caressed your cheeks and forehead. Whenever you're awake, Kyojuro will stare into your eyes and tell you how beautiful you are, which will make you blush. He loves it when you blush, so he often does his best to make you feel loved.

❥ There are times when you'll wake up at night, feeling the pain. Kyojuro would immediately sit down and comfort you. Even if he's so sleepy, he would prioritise you. The Flame Hashira would massage you from head to toe, just to make sure that nothing was painful. Then sometimes he would hum a song that would make you smile. He's loud and noisy, but he has a great voice. You loved it so much. With that, you'll eventually fall asleep.

❥ When you're finally feeling much better, Kyojuro will kiss your lips and hug you tightly. He'll often tell you that you're very good at getting better quickly, and he's proud of you. Yes, the Flame Hashira is always proud of every little thing you do. Kyojuro will spend the next day still taking care of you, even if you already feel better. He just loves doing it as much as he loves you.

𝑯𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝑨𝒏𝒐𝒏!

Also, if you are feeling sick irl, I hope you'll be better‼ 😫

Sending lots of love for you!💓

Thank you for reading this HC! Feel free to reblog, comment, or request~

Love you all!

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

#sanemi x reader #rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #sanemi x y/n #sanemi x you #kyojuro x you #kyojuro x y/n #sanemi shinazugawa #kyojuro rengoku #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer imagines #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #sanemi x sick!reader #kyojuro x sick!reader

[epickiya722]

Oooh, wait, wait, wait. I just remembered something!! Hold up!!

Sukuna has multiple techniques in his arsenal and you know what? Now that in 250, Yuta had copied his Dismantle technique... I don't think that technique was ever meant to be used by Yuji.

[PART 2 OF THIS POST HERE!]

Remember way back when Satoru told Yuji that he could be able to use Sukuna's technique but not at that time (chapter 12)? He wasn't precise about that since at that time, Satoru didn't actually witness Sukuna use his technique(s). So he couldn't actually know what technique Yuji could use.

Story wise, I think that was a key detail that may should have been kept in mind. Because if Gege intended for Yuji to use Dismantle and/or Cleave, possibly Satoru could have just outright named the technique and later on, I don't think Gege would have had Yuta use those techniques. (It's fitting that the guy with the sword would use a cutting technique.)

Adding to that, Dismantle and Cleave are brought up way too often. If Gege was gonna have Yuji use a technique, it would be a technique that is a surprise. Come on, Gege is all for the surprises. I doubt Gege would be like "Oh, yeah, Yuji can use Dismantle now." We would have seen that coming.

What if, hear me out, what if the technique Yuji was meant to use was a soul related one? The one he will be using to separate Megumi from Sukuna? And that technique happened to be Sukuna's?

I know it makes no sense probably, but let me ramble.

As mentioned Sukuna has multiple techniques. Dismantle and cleave, that Flame Arrow thing, etc. We know he's even capable of using other techniques of the bodies he possesses because he later uses Megumi's Ten Shadows.

So could it be possible that he also had one involving the soul?

Because how in the hell did he even figure out that Yuji was going to try to separate Megumi's soul from him?

Back in 244, remember how shook Sukuna was when Yuji did this?

That is a look of bewilderment. It's like he knew that feeling from before. Fast forward to 249, he stated this!

Yuji or anyone didn't say anything about doing that. But Sukuna, being that he is Sukuna (he's not a dumb guy) figured it out. And what if he figured it out because he recognized a technique that he may have used before?

Also, it just seems fitting that Yuji would end up with a soul technique. His soul was untouchable by Mahito because Sukuna possessed his body. Speaking of, Mahito was one of his biggest enemies and his technique involved the soul. As commented by Sukuna, Yuji has an unbreakable soul/ideal.

#that's all i had to say #just a thought just a guess i could be wrong #just kiya's thoughts #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk manga spoilers #jjk spoilers #jjk 12 #jjk 244 #jjk 249 #jjk 250 #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryoumen #ryoumen sukuna #itadori yuuji #itadori yuji #yuji itadori #yuuji itadori

[trshtffc]

You're Eris´ bride

The ladies in waiting step back when you get up from the chair, your hair styled in an intricate design under a veil of lace worth a house.

"Stunning, my dear." Your soon-to-be mother-in-law sighs, brushing a curl back from your cheek before blinding you with the heavy lace "Are you ready?"

"Yes, my lady."

The layers of fabric rustle softly as you walk at the end of the procession, the highest-ranking ladies of Autumn Court before you, making way through the rich carpeted halls of the Forest House, and you glance down at your dress, too blinded by the veil to see anything else.

A queen wouldn't have a more stunning dress than yours, all in Autumn-burgundy damask trimmed with gold and adorned with freshwater pearls from the streams of your homeland.

You stop just before they throw open the doors and the music spills out like a greeting. There is no need of anyone to warn you, you had counted the steps from your apartment here, and the remaining steps up to the altar.

There is none who could match you in the dance of court, you're perfect.

Well, none but him.

You scent Eris even through the veil, allowing him to lift the priceless lace before you look up into his eyes, the perfect picture of a submissive, doting bride.

You know that look drives him wild.

Eris´ amber eyes pierce yours, flames dancing behind his iris, and you know you're going to pay the price for this later. You give him your best coy smile, the one he had seen through from the very first time you met and you got up to curtsy to him.

"Welcome, my daughter." Beron´s warm voice echoes through the hall, silencing all others, and you turn to him with a curtsy, holding your breath as if you were so very dazzled by his presence.

It works, he stands only a touch taller, addressing his court once more.

"We gather here today to celebrate the union of my son and heir, prince Eris,..."

You look back at your groom, letting the High Lord´s words go on infinitely. Beron loved the attention, he would go on for an hour, and you'd have to blush and flutter your eyelashes as if you'd rather be marrying him, but for now you could look at Eris, your partner at this game, and marvel internally at his easy grace, his his tall standing, carefully humble enough not to provoke his father, the flames in his gaze when it met yours, the delicate blue veins under a skin so pale it freckled in the sun.

"Let´s play together." You remember the first time he said that, after a few weeks of glances and quips, when he caught you at a game of cards with other courtiers, and you asked if he wished to take your place.

Let´s play together.

The two of you formed a pair, an alliance. Eris was a balm to have on your side, he knew The Game, made it into a dance, and the two of you ran the court so beautifully Beron didn't even notice. Against your better judgement, you had fallen before you knew it.

You had resisted his advances nonetheless. The flirting, dancing, writing poetry, that was all part of The Game, and you were a player, not a piece.

Until that night he cracked. Nubla, his eldest hound, had found the door to your apartment and barked like all hell was upon the land, rushing down the hall and urging you along, and you found him in his room, struggling to breathe, holding onto another hound like a drowning man.

It hadn't taken long for you to get Eris to breathe again, but you held him to your chest all night, rocking him like a babe, the two of you guarded by his pack of hounds.

You remember his words as he fell asleep on your bosom.

"I'm not playing you."

"If any would challenge their union, let him meet my sword." Eris´ brother faces the court, placing his hand dramatically on the hilt.

More likely he would lend his sword. You give Eris an adoring look, knowing that he'll see the smile underneath, and his auburn lashes flutter with amusement. That brother is no trouble, he spends most of his time drunk anyway. You doubt he was even sober now, he got the words wrong.

The candle is brought to the altar, and Eris smiles as he conjures a small flame to his fingertips, joining it with yours.

"Two is one, it can never be parted again." Beron recites as the two of you light the candle that will later be used to lit the fireplace in your new bedroom "May you always be light and warmth for each other."

It was torture to accept such a gentle kiss from Eris and not be able to throw your arms around him, but you smile, the flush of your burning desire passing for modesty as you faced the court, the table for your very favourite game.

Your court, that the two of you would rule together. You knew the poison was working, already Beron began to forget things, or feel rather lost. People had been whispering behind their hands lately.

It wouldn't be a surprise when he suffered a hunting accident in a fortnight.

You smile back at the High Lord, allowing yourself to beam, a glowing bride and prized breeder for his trophy son.

You have outplayed him in The Game.

You're Eris´ wife, after all.

#eris vanserra #x reader #fanfiction #tumblr fanfic #pro eris vanserra #autumn court #acotar fanfiction

[bloodredfeathers]

Hair

What I think it would be like to play with the hair of the boys with long hair

Characters: Jamil Viper, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia, Leona Kingscholar

A/N: Nobody begged me not to write anything else so I'm assuming my last fic was okay, anyways here's my second thingie enjoy it :3

Gender neutral reader, you/your pronouns

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jamil Viper

You know his hair is silky smooth and super soft fjfkdhdkfhd

Just imagine braiding it for him

Sitting on his bed while he's kneeling on a pillow on the floor

And as you start to do his hair he closes his eyes and leans back

He feels so relaxed for once

"Just don't pull too hard, okay?" Jamil was incredibly hesitant to allow you to lay even a finger on his hair. As a retainer, he has to keep up his appearance to set an example, so although he trusted you, he couldn't afford to have something bad happen to ruin said appearance.

"Also don't take too long," he mumbled. "The game against Royal Sword Academy starts in around forty five minutes."

"Relax, you'll be fine!" You said cheerfully. "Just trust in my abilities!"

Jamil raised an eyebrow before turning his back to you, allowing you access to his hair. Carefully and patiently, you began your work, starting by creating a couple of thin French braids on the left side of his head. Jamil shuddered slightly. He usually did his own hair, and therefor the feeling of someone else doing it for him was very foreign.

Gently, you gathered up his hair atop his head, securing it in place in a neat bun. The braids snug but not uncomfortable, he felt somewhat relaxed and comforted by the fact that you were so gentle and caring with him.

"It looks nice," he complimented your work as he looked in the mirror. "It doesn't feel loose but it's not uncomfortable. Thank you."

"Of course!" You beamed. "Now go kick RSA's ass!"

Idia Shroud

Please it would take SO long for him to not freak out over you even looking at him, let alone playing with his hair

But his hair is warm and soft, and the way it moves is very flamelike

Of course, it's not hot enough to burn you

Even though blue flames are the hottest flame-

But still, his hair would be super soft and the feeling of it would be almost like running your hand through water

Like yeah it feels and acts like normal hair but it still has that sort of flowy liquid behavior to it if ykwim

"Idiaaaaa," you said in a singsongy voice. "When are you gonna be done with that game?"

"Just give me like...ten minutes," Idia didn't look away from the screen, but you could tell he was super excited. "I've been trying to complete this Elden Ring quest for like two days now and I keep on failing but this is the closest I've ever gotten to doing it!"

You smiled and stood from his bed, walking over and watching from behind him. You noticed his hair moving a bit quicker than usual, as it typically does when he's hyped up about something. Reaching out your hand, you felt his hair flow around it, gently caressing your hand. He didn't notice at first, but then you reached higher and ran your fingers down his scalp into his tresses, staring in awe at how they carefully danced around.

"H-hey! What are you doing?!" He nearly shrieked as he realized you were there. The tips of his hair began to glow a bright pink.

"Your hair is so beautiful..." You said, mesmerized.

Idia's hair went from pink tipped to nearly pink throughout as he became even more flustered at you complimenting him so easily. He brought his hoodie up to his face to hide his uncontrollable grin as your fingers danced through his hair.

"Do you like when I do this?" You asked him. He felt his face heat up and he couldn't speak, so he nodded, kind of aggressively. You giggled and gathered it into a ponytail before combing through it, feeling its lazy flow and comforting heat.

You could swear he's the robot and not Ortho from how he literally malfunctioned.

Malleus Draconia

Okay so idk I feel like his hair is super soft but kind of tangled

No bc hear me out

Lilia usually brushes it for him but he's been slacking a bit so it's a little tangled

So you go to do it for him

And you're shocked at how soft his hair is even though it's so tangled up

Lemme paint the picture rq

"Do you have a hairbrush?" You asked Malleus as you sat on his bed. He nodded and picked up probably the most extravagant hairbrush you had ever seen from atop a dresser. Made of what looked like pure silver and twisted in a Victorian Era style, it looked like an antique. He handed it to you and you took it carefully.

"Lilia used to use this to brush my hair for me but he's become a bit preoccupied with his other responsibilities," Malleus explained. "Therefore, he hasn't had much time to do some of the things he used to."

"Come here, sit in front of me," you beckoned him and tossed a throw pillow onto the floor in front of where your legs dangled. Malleus cocked his head slightly but did as you asked. Even sitting on his knees, he was almost at the same height as you sitting on the bed.

"What are you doing, child of man?" Malleus asked cautiously.

"Just trust me, Tsunotaro," you said reassuringly. He seemed to visibly relax then, and you began working. Gently untangling his hair, brushing slowly, starting from the bottom and working your way to the top. Malleus had incredibly thin and smooth hair, and not very much of it, just enough for a long, thin ponytail. Or...a braid...

Once his hair was untangled (no thanks to his horns getting in the way), you brushed your fingers through it, separated it into equal sections, and begun to braid.

Malleus was enjoying himself. He could bear with the slightly numb legs if it meant having his child of man work the magic they were. After you finished the braid, you smoothed down and fixed his bangs and showed him in the mirror.

He loved it.

Leona Kingscholar

Oh

Oh no

Bestie wyd I hope you have a lot of free time cuz this bitch has tangles for YEARS

I'm sorry Leona I love you but tame that literal mane

Ik you're lazy but for Yuu's sake-

But if you're gonna untangle his hair it'll hurt so PLEASE PET HIS EARS AND MAYBE GIVE THEM A ✨KITH✨ OR TWO

"Ow!" Leona yelled. "What'd ya go an' do that for, herbivore?!"

"Sorry!" You protested. "How is your hair even this tangled in the first place?"

Leona huffed and closed his eyes again.

"I don't have time to take care of it," he muttered. You held back a laugh. If he had enough time for all of the sleeping he does he SURELY had enough time to spare two minutes to brush his hair out every once in a while.

You continued your seemingly futile attempts at untangling Leona's wild locks. Little by little, you combed through and worked out as many knots as you could. Soon enough (not soon at all), his hair was smooth and without any tangles. Leona had to admit, the lack of tangles made him feel good, especially when you gently massaged his scalp and pet his ears.

"We're all done," you said softly. "If you need it taken care of again, please just ask. I don't want you to have to suffer like that again."

You gently kissed the top of his head and he felt his face heat up immensely.

"Whatever herbivore..." He paused for a second before burying his face in your stomach. "Thank you..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ok so that's done finally

Any requests? Feel free to ask!

💥Akira💥

#disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #twst leona #twst malleus #twst jamil #twst idia #idia shroud #leona kingscholar #malleus draconia #jamil viper

[amarizuu]

A Small Secret to Keep

Note: This is referred to this video from my channel. A short story to explain more about what Yuu and Epel talked about! Yuu's pronouns will be used as They/Them. Tried to keep them all in character. And not proofread!

Take note, this scene happened in book 3 after Azul's overblot.

After a long battle in the Octavinelle Dorm Yuu thought they won't encounter anything that could trouble them but like what Scar mentioned once they entered this academy "This damn world never gives us a break won't they?"

"Epel? What are you doing here?" You asked. Epel Felmier, a student from the Pomefiore dorm had a small conversation after Yuu apologized to him regarding their friends' misunderstanding of his gender.

"Oh, I just have a question to ask. Mind if I enter?" Yuu gave him a nod as they took a step back, letting him in.

"You seem famous, students really love flocking around you, huh?" Hades commented sarcastically, with a low groan, arms crossed over his chest.

"But I do wonder why he is here. But if this is about the situation from earlier, it's finished and done" The Queen of Hearts claimed.

"But the student isn't from my dorm isn't it, it's from Queen Grimhilde's dorm" Ursula pointed out as the other queen took a quick look at his attire, it was the school's uniform but with the color and dorm insignia of Pomefiore.

"So why are you here?" Yuu asks as they walk towards the living. Epel took a quick look around, wondering where Grim went, and found him sleeping on the couch.

"I have a question to ask. And it's really important" Yuu turned to see Epel's hand over his chest, eyes down looking guilty yet curious. Yuu raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on his hip.

"Go ahead. I'm all ears"

"Are you really magicless?" Yuu's body froze and so did the Great Seven. Epel slowly looked up from the ground, staring at their eyes.

Yuu was just confused on the spot, what did Epel mean when he asked that question, are they really magicless? Of course. The Mirror already said that they do not have magic and their soul doesn't belong to any dorms, it's colorless. The reason is that he doesn't belong to this timeline, or is it really because of that reason?

"Woah, woah- this kid knows what's up!?" Hades said as his flames ignited and blazed. While the others were still processing and wondering HOW.

"Okay, we need to take this kid out. We can't have him spreading if he knows our secret, Yuu's safety is more important" Scar warned as he retracted his claws that came out, feeling a sense of danger.

"Wait, we cannot do that. We can't think irrationally now. Dragon child, stay calm and ask the question how does he know about this" Yuu mentally nodded, hearing the calm voice of the Thorn Fairy, Maleficent.

"Well, yeah I am. The mirror proved it on the first day Epel" Yuu acts confused, denying his words but Epel didn't buy it at all.

"Don't ya lie to me, I saw what ya did with my own pair eyes" Epel grinned at them, going on explaining what he saw. Hearing him mention the mirror that looks close to the School's magic mirror but with a slight difference with the flames framing it, made Yuu tense on the spot as if he failed a mission and Hades was ready to burn this student in front of them.

"You--"

"I saw ya talkin' to that mirror," Epel said firmly taking a step forward to prove his point but this made Yuu instinctively summon his sword that was in hiding in the fireplace It just flew to his hand which caught Epel off guard as the blade pointed at him, putting his hands up in defense. They have a sword and he has nothing to fight with, or does he want to do sword vs fist.

"Did you share this information with anyone else" Yuu threatened Epel with the sword in hand, taking a step forward as Epel took a step back, where did this sword come from?! Epel thought as he swallowed his saliva.

Epel shook his head.

"Dragon Child put the sword down."

"Put the sword down?! What if this child is a spy"

"I agree with the retired lion over there."

"Retired what---"

"You two just keep your mouth shut, we do not wish to be spilling blood. If this child is a spy why would he come to us, asking a simple question about Diamond being magicless"

"To hold something against us, one step of being manipulated"

"Hades you aren't making this situation any better"

Yuu can hear all their rambling but in the end, listen to the advice of Jafar and Maleficent. Slowly, they moved their hand down. Epel sighed in relief.

"Look. I'm not here to cause any trouble or anything. I just want answers ya hear me" Epel explained.

"There are only questions I can answer." Yuu threw his sword away, but the sword flew back to where it was hidden.

"Then answer my first question, are you really magicless," Epel asked again.

The room fell silent. The two students stared at each other as water from the ceiling dripped down, making small thuds as they hit the wooden floor.

"We can recruit this kid then" Jafar suggested earning a few glares at the others, they didn't seem to like that idea but the Thorn fairy looked interested in his idea.

"Think about it. It's been three months and we still have no way to go back, I bet that ...crow who calls himself the head mage hasn't done anything" Jafar rolled his eyes as he mentioned Crowley. The others looked away, thinking about his suggestion.

"We can ask for this kid for help, he belongs to this world..or timeline. He has more knowledge of this place than we do"

"I do agree with Jafar. For the past three months, we've been trying to give Yuu the break they need but this school just drags that idea out" Queen Grimhilde commented as she took a step forward.

"And no, we are not gonna burn this school down." She added as Hades was about to say something but stopped once she mentioned burning the school, which was his original idea.

"So, we're just gonna tell this kid that we, the great seven are inside of Yuu?" Scar raised an eyebrow at them, pointing a finger at himself.

"Of course not. We are just gonna drop a few hints, we don't need to tell everything." Jafar facepalmed earning a nod from the Queen of Hearts.

"Very well then, go ahead Dragon Child"

Yuu mentally sighed, hearing all their voices in a short time. Epel was confused, why is it taking so long for them to answer his question, are they planning to threaten him with the sword again to not say anything?

"I'm not exactly magicless but I don't own any magic" Epel flinched, suddenly hearing their voice from that long silent pause. But hearing their words just confuses him more.

"You are not magicless but the magic you own doesn't belong to you?"

"Yes, I am simply a vessel, nothing more" Yuu closed their eyes for a moment feeling a mental slap at the back of their head from Hades.

"You are more than that Hedgehog, you need to let go of that thought" The Queen of Hearts sighed, rubbing her forehead with a frown.

"You heard that matchstick or else I'm hitting the back of your head again"

"Are you trying to burn him?!" Queen Grimhilde scolded which earned herself an eye-roll from Hades.

"Dragon child, please ignore them and listen to the Queen of Hearts. You are more than just a vessel dear, you are a human being."

Yuu smiled, hearing their voices.

"A vessel you say, okay, so you are like some wand then." Yuu laughed for a moment, imagining how Epel thought of him.

"You can say that. But I cannot tell who's holding this wand then" Yuu followed after his statement which made Epel smiled nervously since it seems they already know what they were gonna ask next.

"Ahah, even if I asked for a hint?"

"Well, I can say they are known as big figures around here" Epel thought for a second, trying to guess.

"I'll tell you when it's the right time" Yuu stopped Epel from thinking on who's this figure is.

"Haha, deal!" Epel smiled.

Jafar and Maleficent looked at each other as their eyes glowed...

Got A Secret?

Can you keep it. . . .

#epel twst #twst #yuu au #twst yuu #disney twst #epel felmier #great seven au #great seven lore #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #epel twisted wonderland