#for raining on his angel's parade

[sort-of-dying]

So I have a theory. A lot of people are mad at Aziraphale for his choice. But I think that most people, especially the people on Tumblr, have a specific way of processing (religious) trauma that is similar to Crowley's. Basically be rebellious and push away from the experience/people that caused you trauma. It's harder for people to understand Aziraphale is because he is too contradictory. Aziraphale is kind, but petty, generous, but a hoarder, idiotic, but intelligent, etc. Crowley is more of an explicit character, the kind and curious dork masquerading as cool and suave. A big flaw between them is that they both process everything with Heaven differently, and they don't communicate about it. I will give them that it's hard to communicate that you are going through the same thing, but differently with someone. But something these ineffable idiots lack is communication skills. It's what makes them idiots, but it is also what makes their love interesting.

Aziraphale also doesn't like change. He doesn't change his clothes, or his way of life, or anything, because he likes how it is. That could tie in to his relationship with Heaven, because he thinks that maybe if everything is perfect then no one can ruin it. He has this naïve belief about Good and Evil, partly due to everything he was taught by Heaven. Aziraphale has not been told what to do. He wants to do Good, but what is Good when Good tries to destroy things? I think he might be a bit bat at insinuated things. For someone who has been a follower since forever, making your own path is hard. But when you make your own little nook in the world, a clear and decisive path of interactions and routine, then it isn't as confusing. Aziraphale and Crowley have their dance, their routine. The way they talk and interact shows that. But when Crowley breaks it in the last 15 minutes of episode 6, Aziraphale doesn't know what to do. Over the years he has carved a space in the rock walls of what was said to be Good, which he wants to impress upon Heaven and make it Good again. But Crowley recognizes the flawed machine and Aziraphale sees the faults as separate. Neither are wrong, and neither are right. They are both entitled to thinking their own thoughts. But once again, they cannot communicate. Aziraphale tries, but cannot say, "I want to make it better, the way the system was made to be so no one is hurt again, and I want to do it with you," and Crowley cannot say "The system is not just flawed, it is broken. Broken beyond repair, so I want to leave while we still can so I can be with you without the influences of a flawed system." But what they say is very different. Aziraphale is being direct as he can, but Crowley isn't listening because of his hurt. His angel is talking about returning to a broken system, which is basically inconceivable to Crowley. And one big thing is that Crowley never explicitly states his thoughts on Heaven. The best he says is "Heaven and Hell are toxic," which is true, but can be interpreted as they can be made better. Aziraphale can't understand all the implications, and so the break from routine is nearly useless.

Both of the ineffable lovelies are right and wrong, doing both the right thing and the wrong thing. But the timing was absolutely terrible, which is not their fault (it is the Metatron's, so go hate that passive aggressive bastard). All I'm doing is attempting to explain Aziraphale's side as a more Aziraphale-coded person so that the angel's side isn't forgotten or discounted.

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable idiots #ineffable lovelies #also #Crowley really didn't have to do that #the love of his freaking life was so happy #sorry for being and at crowley #even though he deserves it #for raining on his angel's parade

[hongcherry]

stuck with you || c.sc (m)

Your road trip takes a turn for the worst and leaves you stranded during a winter storm. It's not long until the car gets chilly, but luckily for you, your boyfriend has an idea to keep you both warm.

❄️ Pairing: boyfriend!Seungcheol x Reader (afab)

❄️ Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Smut, fluff; Established relationship

❄️ Warnings: Pet names (baby, baby girl, princess, angel), unprotective sex (dont be like them), fingering, breast play, creampie, dirty talk, car sex so technically exhibitionism, reader is slightly inexperienced/shy (not a virgin tho)

❄️ Word Count: 3.7k

❄️ Project: @k-vanity's event. Prompt is "snow day/snowed in".

❄️ Author's Note: Honestly, I'm not sure about this one aha. This was meant to be posted last holidays, but I never got it finished in time. Now, I rushed it to meet this deadline sdfk;bjfdlsk. So... Please be kind 🥲

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

Your idea of a mini road trip was going well. You were sharing memories with your sweet boyfriend, who you had dragged with you, filled with laughs and a few forced smiles. Sure, Seungcheol was grumbling fifty percent of the time, but the other fifty percent was genuine happiness… Well, he slept for fifteen percent so that other fifty wasn’t accurate. Nevertheless, you weren’t going to let his party-pooping butt rain on your parade.

However, what did ruin your parade known as a road trip was when your car started to break down in the middle of a snowy night. Unsurprisingly, Seungcheol let a few expletives slip from his pout. His hand was wavering in different directions as he lectured the car for being “a complete waste of a fucking car.” You would have found it amusing if it weren’t for the fact you were about to be stranded in a deserted area.

“Hurry and call for a pickup before either of our phones dies,” Seungcheol instructs as the car begins to slow to a stop.

You oblige quickly, looking up a local towing company and giving them a call. Unfortunately, it’s going to take a couple of hours to arrive due to the bad weather. Seungcheol curses once more before locking the already-locked doors, yanking out the keys, and tossing them onto the dashboard.

“We should have stayed at the hotel one more night like I said,” he huffs with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring out into nothing. Both of you are sitting in the dark as you let the situation sink in. Guilt is forming in your chest.

“I just wanted to get to the next city by the morning so we could see the festival,” you mumble. Seungcheol knows this already, but you feel it necessary to explain again. You didn’t anticipate or wish for this to happen.

Hearing your dejected voice, Seungcheol’s body relaxes as he turns to look at you. “I know, baby,” he sighs.

“Let’s move to the back so that we can be more comfortable,” he suggests. You’re about to open the door when he stops you suddenly. “Climb in from here. We don’t want the cold air in.”

“Oh, right,” you say sheepishly. It’s warm now since the heater was on before the car shut off.

Carefully, you squeeze through the seats to sit in the back. Once you’re seated, Seungcheol follows suit. He reaches back into the trunk and digs out the blanket you had packed.

He pulls you into his lap, wrapping the blanket around you. You tuck the ends of it behind Seungcheol so he can hold it in place with his back.

“I’m sorry I made you feel bad,” he speaks softly with a deep exhale.

You shake your head. “You didn’t—”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he chuckles and rubs his hands up and down your clothed thighs. “I’m just tired and grumpy.”

“Hm,” you hum and give him a small smile. “You are tired and grumpy.”

“Tired and grumpy Seungcheol is sorry,” he says, lips pursing in a tiny pout and voice slightly higher.

Giggling, you hit his chest playfully. “You’re forgiven.”

“Good. I hate when my baby’s mad at me.”

“I wasn’t,” you reply. “Now, go to sleep, Cheollie,” you smile.

Seungcheol nods, bringing you down for a quick kiss before he wraps his arms around your body. You lean forward to lay against him. With the warm air, blanket, and his heated body, you’re feeling hot; however, you know the temperature is going to drop soon.

As expected, the car grows chilly within thirty minutes.

You wake from your slumber with a shiver. Seungcheol’s head is leaned against the headrest, breathing evenly as he sleeps. You reach up and softly graze his cheek. It’s cold under your touch. Frowning, you cup his face to heat his skin. He stirs for a second and then flutters his eyes open.

“Are they here?” he questions, referring to the towing people.

Shaking your head you say, “No, you were just cold.”

“I’m okay,” he replies even though his body shivers as soon as the words come out. “You’re cold?”

“A little,” you confess. You let your hands leave his cheeks and land on his shoulders gently.

Seungcheol’s eyes roam your face, taking in the occasional shakes of your body from the low temperature.

“I have an idea,” he replies belatedly.

“For?”

“To make you less cold.”

“Oh?”

You stare at him in confusion. You figure he’s going to grab the second blanket in the trunk, but instead, he grips your hips and slides your body against his crotch.

“Oh,” you gasp, face warming at the implication. “But we’re in public.”

Seungcheol shrugs. “In the middle of nowhere during a snowstorm. I doubt anyone is going to come this way.”

You hold his shoulders firmly when he rolls his hips under you. The action has him rubbing your clit briefly. You tighten your grip on him.

“The towing people,” you explain, trying not to focus on Seungcheol’s movements.

“You said they’d be here in a few hours. I don’t need a few hours to get you to cu—”

“Cheol!” you scold his language. Seungcheol just smiles. “I thought you wanted to get warm. Not… that.”

He clears his throat and stops grinding against you.

You bite your lip to suppress the whine that wants to come out. His actions had felt good, and you admit silently you were feeling warmer as your body became aroused.

“Right. I mean, I don’t need a few hours to get you warmed up,” he corrects innocently.

“I’m not sure,” you answer hesitantly. “Cuddling works too.”

You’re not too experienced—Seungcheol having been your first a few months ago—so having sex in such an exposed space feels like you’re skipping some imaginary steps.

He gives you a reassuring smile. “Then cuddles it is. Let me get the other blanket.”

Seungcheol moves to reach backwards. With his back no longer holding the blanket, it pools around the both of you. The cold air hits your body, causing you to shiver again. Even with the second blanket, you will only be warm for a little bit before the coldness consumes you again. You could say the same about what Seungcheol proposed, but at least you would have more fun.

You stare at him as he gathers both blankets and wraps them around you again.

“What?” he asks when he sees the flint in your eyes.

“M-maybe I’ve changed my mind,” you say a little nervously.

“Oh?” he wonders. “You don’t have to. I’m really okay with just cuddling.”

Your hands on his shoulders slowly slide down until they rest flat on his chest. You can feel his heart pumping quicker as the seconds tick by.

“I-I just don’t want to go to jail,” you say.

Seungcheol grins, rubbing up and down your arms to warm them. “Like I said, I don’t think anyone is going to catch us, and the snow will slow down the towing people. Plus, I’m sure Soonyoung and Seokmin will come bail us out.”

You huff at his last sentence. “Why them?”

“Because if they can’t do it the normal way, at least they can cause a big enough distraction so we can escape.”

“Babe,” you whine. You don’t like the thought of being a fugitive.

“Relax, angel,” Seungcheol chuckles. “It’ll be fine, but you don’t hav—Hmph!”

Not wanting to repeat the conversation, you lean forward as he’s talking and press your lips on his.

Seungcheol grips your arms in shock but soon eases his hold once he gets his bearings. His hands move to your waist and pull you closer until your arms fold against his chest from the close proximity.

With a surge of boldness, you wiggle your arms away and readjust to grab onto the seat behind him for leverage. He moans into the kiss when you start circling your hips against his.

“Just shut up and get me warm,” you mumble into the kiss.

Seungcheol smiles against your lips as he nods. His cold hands slip under your shirt to push your bra up. He doesn’t want to get you completely naked since it’s cold, so this will do.

You sigh softly when he gropes your breasts, massaging them gently. The contact heats your body blissfully.

He pulls away from the kiss to look at you. “Feeling better already?”

“A little,” you reply meekly.

Seungcheol gives one last squeeze to your breasts before pushing your shirt up. A gasp leaves your mouth when the cold air hits your bare torso. You try to pull the material down, but he keeps a firm grip on it.

“Kinda wanna press you against the window like this,” he murmurs.

“C-Cheol!” you scold.

“What?” he asks, suppressing his wicked grin.

“People will for sure see us then! Plus,” you begin to pout more, “it’ll be cold.”

“You’ll warm up when I start fucking that pretty pussy of yours.”

Your face heats at his vulgar words. You’re not used to people speaking in such a way, but you can’t deny the way your walls tighten in anticipation.

“Think about it,” he suggests, then leans down to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples.

Your lips part at the sudden difference in temperature on your chest. Seungcheol’s warm mouth feels so good.

Your hands move to play with his hair, fingers tugging on the strands occasionally.

Seungcheol pulls you closer to him as his eyes flutter close. He’s licking and sucking your nipple like it’s his favorite way to pass time. The sight itself makes you moan.

You can feel Seungcheol’s bulge press against your core, which makes your arousal pool in your underwear more. Hesitantly, you start grinding your hips against him. Though when Seungcheol hums against your chest and pulls away with a soft pop, you stop moving. Your hands fall away from his hair to land on his shoulders.

“Don’t be shy, baby. Make yourself feel good,” he reassures, giving your lips a quick kiss for encouragement.

“I-Is this right?” you question, moving your hips again albeit a bit slower.

He grins. “Whatever makes you feel good is right. Do you feel good right now?”

“I—kinda.”

“Kinda? Is there something else you want?” he asks, carefully pulling your shirt down and cupping your face.

Your eyes dart away from his brown ones. It seems you used all your bold moves earlier.

Seungcheol begins to glide his thumb across your cheeks lovingly.

“Show me what you want,” he instructs gently and offers one of his hands.

You glance at it. Seungcheol has used this tactic several times in the past. It’s a way for you to take charge in your own way. It isn’t that he makes you uncomfortable, but it takes time to get used to things you’ve never experienced before.

You’re grateful Seungcheol is so understanding. Some of your exes became exes for being the opposite.

Taking his hand, you push it down until it rests against his crotch.

Seungcheol smiles. “My good girl just wants to get to the main course, hm?”

His light attitude lessens your nervousness.

“Need to feel you,” you murmur.

“I need to feel you too, baby girl,” he agrees and leans up to capture your lips.

You lax at the feeling of his plush lips, hands sliding down his arms to play with his shirt. Seungcheol eases your mouth open so he can slip his tongue inside as he grabs your wrists. He guides your hands under his shirt slowly. You feel his abs tense momentarily at the cool touch of your skin.

Once your hands are settled against his chest, he releases you. You take the opportunity to rub your hands along his torso, enjoying the feel of his strong muscles beneath your palms.

After a while, you finally pull away with a gasp.

“You give the best kisses,” Seungcheol compliments.

You grin. “I’ve gotten better?”

“You were never bad to begin with,” he chuckles. “But yes, you have improved.”

Your smile grows at his words.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he huffs as if it’s too much for him to bear.

“Now, we better hurry before help arrives,” he says and gently lays you back on the car seats.

The blankets get tangled, but Seungcheol pulls them away and leaves them on the floorboard. You supposed you don’t need them at the moment anyway.

Seungcheol nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck and starts kissing your skin. His hands grab ahold of your sweatpants and pull them down. Before you can complain about the coldness, one of his hands slither between your legs to circle your clit.

“Gotta’ prep you a bit, okay? Then I’ll give you want, angel.”

You nod and wrap your arms around his shoulders.

Seungcheol continues to pepper kisses against your neck, but you can tell his attention is elsewhere.

His fingers glide down and slip between your folds.

“I could slide in so easily right now with how wet you are,” he moans.

“T-then do it,” you say,

He shakes his head. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

Carefully, he slides one finger inside your dripping hole.

You bite your lip and remind yourself to relax.

Seungcheol stops kissing and simply rests his head against your shoulder. His eyes are closed as he pumps the single digit a few times before adding a second. You moan softly, legs spreading a little wider despite the small space.

“Doing okay?” he asks after a while.

“Yes,” you reply. “More, please.”

Seungcheol nods and slips in a third finger. However, not long after, he adds a fourth. He moves them slowly, not seeing the need to speed up when he’s saving that for later.

A gasp escapes at the stretch. It feels good, but each pump of his fingers makes you eager for his cock.

“Cheol,” you beg.

“Okay,” he says and removes his fingers. He brings them to his mouth and licks up your arousal. The lewd sight makes you want to look away, but you’re also mesmerized by how satisfied Seungcheol looks.

“When we get to the hotel, I’m going to eat you out for hours. You taste so fucking good,” he groans, then pushes his sweatpants down.

You turn your head and bite your lip. Seungcheol laughs and leans over you, arms caging you in.

“That a yes, princess?”

You peep at him and nod. “Yes.”

“That a girl,” he praises and pecks your lips.

“Just tell me if it hurts, okay?” he asks while aligning his tip to your entrance.

You nod, used to him saying that, but you know he means it.

Seungcheol waits for a second before easing inside. He slides in smoothly from how soaked you are. A small mewl comes from you. Although he prepped you, he’s still big and stretches you more than his fingers did.

As usual, the first few seconds are… indescribable. It doesn’t hurt as much, but you still need to get used to his size. The stretch is a mix of pleasure and pain—though the pleasure is more prominent.

“Oh, fuck,” Seungcheol curses while pushing more of his length inside.

“Feels good, Cheol,” you moan when he presses himself fully against you.

Seungcheol eyes flicker from where you’re connected to your eyes.

“Tell me when,” he instructs and rests his forehead on yours.

A minute ticks by until you tell him he can move. Seungcheol doesn’t waste another second and starts slowly gliding in and out of you. The sensation causes you to fill the car with your whimpers.

The coldness in the car seems to fade away with each thrust. The windows are fogging up and it’s getting a little stuffy; however, your focus is solely on Seungcheol’s cock rubbing against your walls heavenly.

His pace eventually increases as you relax more. He continues for some time until a certain sharp snap of his hips has you crying out.

“Shit, I—” Seungcheol begins to apologize.

“Again, Cheol. Please. Again.”

“A-are you sure? Did I hurt you?” he questions.

“No,” you beg with a cry. “Need that again.”

“Fuck, okay, baby,” he rasps.

Seungcheol pulls out most of the way then slams his hips forward. You gasp his name and clench around him. It’s a sight he wants to capture in his mind forever.

The heat in the car has increased and sweat beads are forming on both of your bodies.

You tug off your shirt and bra to get some air.

Seungcheol moans at the sight of your exposed breasts and moves a hand to grip one. He massages it in his hand and continues to snap his hips. He feels like he’s losing his mind slowly at how good you feel wrapped around him, but he wants to try something different.

“Come here, angel,” he huffs and pulls out.

Your lips dip down as you whine at the emptiness. Seungcheol coos at you, adjusting positions so he’s sat with you above him. He discarded both of your sweatpants fully in the process. He then guides his hard cock between your legs and slowly eases you down.

You moan loudly as your pussy gets filled once more. Your hands clutch his shoulders for stability and try not to get nervous at the new position. It’s not often you’re on top.

Sensing your worry, Seungcheol gives you a reassuring massage on your hips.

“I’ll guide you, okay?”

You nod.

Seungcheol smiles, lifting you until his tip remains then pushing you back down carefully.

Your eyes drift from his face to where you both connect. Seeing how his cock disappears makes you clench around him. The sight is arousing, and a sense of pride fills your chest seeing how much easier you can take him now.

Without realizing it, your hips begin to move. You start with the pace Seungcheol has set but gradually move faster. You become addicted to the feel of his cock against your walls and need to feel it more.

It’s not until your thighs start to burn that you slow in realization.

“Don’t slow down,” Seungcheol groans, eyes hooded as he rests his head back on the seat. “Fucking me so good, baby. I knew you could do it.”

“A-are you close?” you question, a little shy.

He hums while nodding.

“Keep moving,” he says, guiding your hips up and down. Seeing how fucked out he is spurs your movements to quicken. Eventually, Seungcheol’s hands relax on your body while he watches you bounce on his cock.

“Fuck,” he curses lowly, eyes taking in your body above his. Your tits look so good and your pussy feels so tight.

Unable to stop himself, he grips your hips firmly and starts thrusting upwards.

You gasp, mouth hanging open as he chases his high. The sound of skin slapping skin feels loud in your ears, but part of you loves it. You love hearing and feeling how fast he’s sliding his cock in you. You love knowing you’re making him feel so good.

Seungcheol slams into your once more, a guttural groan escaping his mouth as his cum fills your insides. He gives you a few more shallow thrusts before he stills completely. His breathing is labored, and his eyes are shut as he floats back down.

You try not to move, but your orgasm is near, and you need a release.

Seungcheol’s eyes peel open after a few more seconds.

“You need help, angel?” he asks when he sees you trying not to squirm.

You pull your lower lip between your teeth and nod.

Seungcheol plants a kiss on your forehead, then adjusts your bodies. He leans against one of the doors while sitting you between his legs, back to his chest. He hooks one of your legs over his to spread you open. You’re so focused on Seungcheol that it doesn’t cross your mind how exposing the position is from the opposing window’s view.

Seungcheol runs his hands down your body, briefly squeezing your breasts before he slides them between your legs. He circles your clit with one hand and uses the other to slide into your dripping hole. He pumps his fingers a few times before pulling out to look at his hand.

His digits are covered with a mix of your arousal and his cum. The sight makes you squeeze your legs and for Seungcheol to moan deeply behind you.

“So messy just for me,” he murmurs, then plunges his fingers back into your cunt.

He moves both his hands quickly, bringing forth your impending orgasm.

“Play with your tits, baby,” Seungcheol rasps. “Don’t forget to make yourself feel good.”

You adhere to his request and bring your hands to squeeze your breasts. Your head falls back against his chest, moans spilling out of you nonstop as you pinch and fondle yourself while Seungcheol continues to circle and pump his fingers.

Seungcheol’s name falls from your mouth incoherently as you climax, your body slightly jerking in his hold as pleasure washes over your body.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he praises in your ear. His fingers still move quickly until he feels you start to relax.

Seungcheol angles your face so he can kiss you. He holds you close, one hand pressing against your tummy while the other keeps your head in place. The kiss is sloppy, but neither of you care.

“You still cold?” he teases after he pulls away.

“No,” you mumble, hiding your face from him.

He laughs and leans down to grab your clothes. “If you are, we can go another round.”

“M-maybe we should wait. The towing people should be here soon,” you say.

Seungcheol nudges you and mumbles, “Arms.”

You comply, lifting your arms slightly so he can put on your clothes. He kisses your shoulder blade after he’s done. You both slide on your sweatpants again, then cuddle once more.

About fifteen minutes pass when bright lights shine nearby.

The worker eyes you both—taking in the fogged windows and disheveled clothing. It doesn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. Nevertheless, they say nothing and get started with trying to fix the vehicle.

Maybe the road trip didn’t go as planned, and maybe you’ll miss the festival, but at least you had some fun nonetheless.

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

taglist (tbh i forgot abt this but i will start doing it now! sorry!): @cheolcherries, @oncloudvii23, @mystikhal-blog, @lithelust, @doom-fics

#scoups smut #svt smut #kvanity #kchristmas #kdiarynet #seungcheol smut #svt fanfic #scoups fanfic #seungcheol fanfic #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader

[shinynewboots]

The Alchemy: Adam x AFAB Morningstar!reader Part 1

Prompt/Summary: She’s Charlie’s older sister and when Charlie first has a meeting with Adam and Lute he couldn’t stop staring at her! To him she was like a goddess her beauty, her voice! Almost everything to him was beautiful. But she gets pissed off when he doesn’t take them serious not in his meeting room in hell or in heaven.

But he bribes the older Morningstar that he will stop the extermination and would talk to the higher ups and try to convince them about Charlie’s idea if only she agrees to be his (as in marriage).

She was considering it, ( Lucifer and Alastor were definitely against it), everyone in the hotel were also asking her to reconsider this plan. (But at the end she says yes).

Also if u can… like add a part where he betrays her at the end and does the extermination but before Nifty stabs him she’s there to save him.

For @jennieyeager Your request darling that I accidentally took forever to write! I have loved writing this prompt so far and I hope you enjoy it at as well! I intend on it being a 4 part series so please stay tuned!

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Warnings: 18+ eventually, somewhat dubious consent, language

“Are you coming, Y/N?” Charlie asked, practically radiating excitement. You looked up at your little sister (who had been the sibling to inherit your mother’s height) and sighed. You were not particularly optimistic about Charlie’s meeting with heaven (hell, you weren’t optimistic about anything, you left that mostly to Charlie), but you didn’t want to rain on her parade.

Besides, Dad had asked you both to represent him at the meeting with Heaven. And there was no way you were going to let Charlie face the wolves alone.

“I’m coming,” You replied. “But I think we need to tone down the singing in your presentation. You remember how well that went over with Katie Killjoy.”

Charlie smiled awkwardly, her permanently flushed cheeks growing even redder at the reminder. She reminded you a lot of Dad at this moment. Full of dreams and hopes for a better future. You wanted to believe in a better future. You did. But all your hopes had been smashed when Mom had gone off the grid without even a single phone call and Dad holed himself up in the castle.

However, you did believe in Charlie. She had always been the best of your family. And if Charlie wanted to use this meeting with Heaven to try and convince them to cease the yearly Exterminations, you would be right there at her side.

You and Charlie stood outside of the Embassy, both hesitant to open the door. Neither of you had ever gone inside before as your parents had you avoid the building like the plague growing up. And now the building seemed daunting and out of place with its glow of angelic light. You and Charlie looked at each other and pushed on the door together.

The foyer of the Embassy was empty and dark. You weren’t sure what you had been expecting but this certainly wasn’t it. Rows of sofas made a path to a desk and set of elevators that stood at the other end of the room.

“Hello!” Charlie called, her voice echoing through the room. No response.

“Creepy,” Charlie said. You nodded in agreement, taking in the embassy. It smelled old and unused. Almost like moth balls. You both walked slowly to the desk where Charlie rang the bell. A flash of blinding light revealed a golden document with the words “sign here”. You both shared a glance before signing the document. The document disappeared as soon as it was signed and a glowing light appeared from one of the elevators.

You both walked towards the elevator and ascended to the top floor. Rock music played in the background as it made its slow journey. You looked over at Charlie. “You’re going to do great. And I’ll be right here by your side through the whole thing.”

Charlie beamed at you, her face bright. She pulled you into a fierce hug “I really appreciate you, Y/N.”

The elevator stopped abruptly and you broke the hug. “Now or never.”

You and Charlie walked out of the elevator and were met with a pair of open double doors, beckoning you to step inside.

“Anyone here?”

Charlie walked through the doors first.

“Hello!” She called out, you following behind her. Light began to emit from the room through the doors and you hurried to catch up with her.

“Sup.” You hear a voice call out. Your eyebrows furrow. Why was Charlie so fast? How dare you inherit your father’s height.

“Holy shit!” Charlie calls out. You finally make it to her to see to angels at the other end of the table. The one sitting wore a black exorcist mask with gold trimmings along with purple and white robes. The angel standing wore an traditional exorcist mask complete with the gray armor.

You stand behind Charlie, nervous but letting her do her thing. She was so much more jovial and charismatic than you were. You knew she would win heaven over.

“Um, hi! I’m Charlie! My dad asked me if could meet you.” Charlie said, a grin on her features. She reached out her hand for the angel to shake.

“Yeah I know.” The angel responded. He looked uninterested in the conversation. In anything. Fucking angels. He looked down at his nails and seemed bored.

“And this is my sister, Y/N!” Charlie said, moving aside so the angels could see you clearly. The lead angel glanced up and suddenly you could see the eyes of his mask fill with interest.

“Hi.” You said sheepishly, throwing the two angels a wave. The exorcist scowled back. The lead angel looked at her with curious eyes (could a mask be curious?).

There was an awkward silence as no one spoke. You and Charlie glanced back and forth until Charlie decided there was no time to waste. She fumbled in her pockets for her schematics of her plan (maybe crayon wasn't the best option but there had been no arguing with Charlie).

“Well um I guess we can go ahead and get this meeting started. So we all know Hell’s biggest problem right?” Charlie asked, holding up the crayon drawing of exorcists raining from the sky on extermination day. She glanced over at you nervously. You tried to give her an encouraging smile.

At this, the lead angel stood and walked towards you and Charlie.

He doesn't look at Charlie and instead his attention is solely on you. He looks you up and down and you suddenly feel very exposed under his gaze.

“Hey, my sister’s trying to speak to you.” You said, meeting the angel’s gaze.

The angel looked back and forth between the two of you before sighing. “Fine, let’s getting on with it.”

“Uh thank you,” Charlie stammered, trying to collect herself. “So again as well all know Hell’s biggest problem is it's overpopulation and subsequent exterminations. I have a plan to redeem sinners through a program at the hotel I recently opened!”

Charlie was actively shoving the crayon drawings into the angel’s face. He rolled his eyes. He barely gave Charlie a glance however, and kept most of his attention on you.

“Listen, let me stop you right there sweetie. You’re wasting everyone’s time.”

You saw red. Who did this motherfucker think he was? Charlie looked visibly defeated but tried to collect her presentation.

“But they're human souls.”

“Human souls that made a choice,” The exorcist angel said, walking up behind the lead angel.

“But-” Charlie started but was cut off by the lead angel.

“And there's no fucking way in heaven or hell that anyone would choose to stop the exterminations. Not only does it control the disgusting sinner population but it's so fucking fun to come down here and kill demon ass.”

You could feel your demon form starting to bubble to the surface. Horns began to sprout from your head and you knew your eyes had taken on a reddish hue. You glanced at Charlie who was in full demon form, her face red and full of anger.

“This isn’t fair. What makes you or anyone else in heaven any better than these souls?” Charlie exclaimed, her voice taking on a deeper, more sinister tone than you were used to hearing.

“Woah, settle down sweetheart. Chill out. They’re just sinners.”

“They're our people,” You replied, glaring at the fucking arrogant lead angel. Fuck, you wanted to punch him in his stupid face.

“And that must fucking suck for you guys,” The angel answered, laughing. He had grown in height, his golden wings unfurling around them. You hated to admit it but they were magnificent to look at. Smug asshole.

“Anyways, the real reason we’re here is because the angelic council has made the executive decision to move up the next extermination.”

“What?” Charlie exclaimed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, sweetheart, that we will be back in six months.”

“You can’t do that!” You argued. The lead angel looked at you with a grin on his masked features. He pulled out a guitar (where in the fuck did he get a guitar) and strummed a cord.

“I think this meeting is over,” He said, the sound wave of the guitar creating a force strong enough to push you and Charlie out of the meeting room and out the double doors. The doors slammed close and you both landed on the floor with a thump.

“No, no, no!” Charlie cried out, her eyes brimming with tears. You had to do something. Anything! This was Charlie’s dream and you weren't about to let some asshole angel with a god complex stop her. You jumped to your feet and pushed against the doors with all your might.

The doors opened (shockingly easy considering how loud they had slammed closed just seconds earlier) and you rushed into the room.

“Who in the actual fuck do you think you are to just ignore my sister like that? And to move up the extermination? Who in the actual fuck do you think you are?” You yelled as you entered the room. The double doors behind you closed with a bang, leaving Charlie out in the hallway alone. The lead angel gave you a long look and stood from the table. His hands moved to his mask and he pulled it off of his head.

You hated to admit it, but he was very handsome. His hair was light brown and messy in a boyish way. He had dark circles under his eyes, as though it had been a few millennia since had a slept. But what really got you were his eyes. They were a gold color that you had never before seen on another person.

“I’m Adam.” He said, a smirk crossing his features.

“Like, like the first man?” You asked weakly.

“The fucking same,” He grinned and began to walk towards you.

“That explains so much.” You whispered to yourself.

“Pretty awesome, right?”

You scowled. “No it's not ‘pretty awesome’, it's fucking rude of you to not even give my sister a chance and to be just a total fucking dickwad.”

“Because I don’t think your sister's idea is a good one. I mean, redemption for sinners? There’s a reason they ended up in this godforsaken place in the first place. And dickwad? Real original, sweetheart.”

Emboldened and full of anger you marched up to Adam and pointed a finger at his chest. You did not, however, anticipate that he was a hologram and so you fell right through.

“Falling for me already, sweetheart?” Adam’s hologram laughed, turning to the exorcist angel and giving a fist bump. You felt a blush rush to your cheeks.

“You’re impossible!”

Adam shrugged. “I might have an idea that benefits both of us. It would require a little effort on your part though.”

“You mean stopping the exterminations?” You ask warily. “And redeeming sinners?”

“You know that's a very heavy ask sweetheart, but yeah. I can talk to the higher-ups about it and see what I can do. Just in exchange for one thing.”

One thing standing between you and helping Charlie achieve her dream. Someone could have pinched you, this was like a dream come true. Charlie had always been the ray of sunshine and full of hope and optimism and dreams. You would give anything for that to come true!

“What is it?”

“You.”

“Uh, what?” You asked, not sure you heard him clearly.

“You. I want you. Come to Heaven with me and be my wife.”

Your mind automatically went the worst (oh my satan did he want you as a sex slave?). Your mouth had run dry and you felt your palms grow sweaty. Why would Adam, the first man, want you as a wife. Oh my satan, wouldn't that be weird because he technically was married to your mom. This was so wrong on so many levels. And he was such an asshole.

“You want me as some weird sex slave?” You questioned, looking warily at Adam.

“Ew fucking no, that's disgusting. No, nothing sexual unless you ask,” Adam said. “Which, you know, you probably will.”

Adam winked at you. Fucking pig.

“Why me?” You were never picked first for, well, anything. No one had ever gone out of their way to make you their first choice. It had always been Charlie due to her charismatic nature and people pleasing tendencies.

Adam blinked and looked you up and down. “You’re beautiful. Hot as hell, no pun intended. And you're loyal. Doing anything to help your sister accomplish her pathetic dream? That takes guts and I respect it.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. Could you do this? Marry this strange man who played a villain in your bedtime stories as a child. He was a pig but if he made it to heaven, maybe he wasn't all bad.

“Can I take some time to think about it?” You asked weakly.

“You’ve got 24 hours,” Adam said, snapping his finger to make a digital countdown watch appear on your wrist. 23:59, 23:58, 23:57…

“You can meet me back here when you've made a decision.” He said, smirking at you. Suddenly, his form appeared more real and you realized he had somehow materialized in front of and was no longer a hologram. His large hands grabbed your face and forced you to stare into his golden eyes.

You suddenly felt his lips crash into your own. His lips were soft and tasted like a cherry hard candy. One of his hands fiddled with the ends of your hair and you couldn't help but moan as his tongue lightly flicked at your lips, leaving shivers down your spine. Your tongue wrestled with his own and you felt so lightheaded.

You had been kissed before but never like this. Suddenly his many millennia of living seemed to be paying off in his favor.

You heard someone clear their throat behind you and you pulled away, a blush coming to your cheeks as you realized the exorcist angel had been present.

“Yeah, yeah Lute I know. I’m leaving.” Adam pulled his hands from your face and smirked at you.

“24 hours, sweetheart. I hope to see you here.”

And with that, Adam and Lute disappeared in a cloud of light and smoke leaving you alone in the board room. The double doors opened and Charlie rushed in, pulling you into a big hug and was frantically asking what happened. You couldn't make anything out that she was saying, however. All you could focus on was the way your lips tingled and began to swell from the ghost of his touch.

You were totally fucked.

#hazbin hotel adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel morningstar #morningstar reader #adam x morningstar!reader #fanfiction #the alchemy #adam #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin adam

[inkdrinkerworld]

hello hello can you please do a fic about autistic!reader who has auditory sensory issues, specifically where they get incredibly anxious when those around them are loud when it’s not very socially acceptable to be so? and so when reader, dealer!remus, and very high james and sirius go out to dinner (or anywhere in public really), james and sirius are very loud and reader is anxious about it and remus has to remind j and s to quiet down?

idk if that makes sense. its super specific but it’s a huge problem for me and I never usually say anything about it, but I feel like remus would <3 I love your autistic reader it makes me so happy, especially them with remus <333

Baby are we the same person???

“It’s very loud,” Remus heads you through gritted teeth as you stab at your chips.

It’s pub quiz night so the probability of the bar being overly loud and crowded had been high, but you hadn’t wanted to rain on James and Sirius’ high parade and joined them.

You’re regretting your decision the longer the quiz goes without them getting a si gel answer correct, yet shouting their wrong answers across the pub.

Remus can tell you’re a couple minutes from just bursting into either tears of frustration or just leaving altogether.

“James, you’re screaming mate,” Remus says as he steals a piece of your cod. “Sirius you’re not far backward either. The point of the game isn’t the shout your answers.”

You send him a grateful smile when he gets the boys to quiet down, but the ‘peace’ doesn’t last for much longer than three minutes when some bloke’s shoulder checks Sirius’ and he’s halfway out his seat screaming profanities.

“Siri, James, let’s go.” Remus hauls them both up and shoots you an apologetic look before closing up your box and leaving some bills on the table.

“We were having fun Remmy, why did you have to be a spoil sport?” James’ talking voice is a mix between a screeching owl and a whine that reaches hz you’re not attuned to.

“Because you’re heckling and you’re being raucous and it’s stressing y/n out,” it’s then that the boys look at you and find you look piqued- even though you hadn’t had anything to drink or smoke.

“I’m sorry, angel,” James at least has the gall to look apologetic and when Sirius turns your face to his, you swear he might cry just seeing how uncomfortable you look.

“Sorry dollface, forgot we were being so loud,” his voice is a stark difference now, whispers where he’d been screaming. “Can we go to the chippy Moons? Fancy a fried cod and mushy peas.”

As you all file in the car, you let James and Sirius share the little left of your own fish and chips and Remus kisses your temple as he drives off.

“Music?” He asks and you shake your head. He didn’t think so either.

“Can we drive with the windows down? It’s nice and chilly tonight.”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

#dealer!remus #dealer!remus lupin #remuslupin #remus lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin fic #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin x black!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x yn #tism🤝

[aziraphales-library]

Would you happen to know any fanfics where the two of them witness or take part in some kind of significant queer history / queer historic event?

We have the following tags which you'll want to check out: #queer history, #pride parade, and #queer guardian angel aziraphale. Here are some which explore some more general aspects of queer history...

Something New…A Rain Bow by Princip1914 (G)

Inspired by this Neil Gaiman twitter exchange: “So they’re gay, right?” Neil: “They’re an angel and a demon, not male humans.” “Ok, but they love eachother, right? :D” Neil: “Absolutely”

and at least in this lifetime (we're sticking together) by vivelegalite (T)

[GOD, NARRATING] People tend to be torn as to which side could be credited with legalisation of gay marriage across all of the United States of America. Most people consider it an act of Good, which it is of course, and attribute it to Heaven. Some, a much less pleasant lot, argue it to be the work of Hell. They tend to back their claims up with improperly translated lines from a book the Almighty had never actually written or even really bothered to read through — I tend to outsource that kind of work — and speak of God’s will and whatnot. Both groups are, however, mistaken. The legalisation of gay marriage across all of the United States of America was brought about not by Heaven, not by Hell, but by a tragically smitten demon with a rather high alcohol concentration and a plan.

And I mean to go on and on and on and on by yolkinthejump (T)

A wedding of old friends. Aziraphale gets drunk on Gay Love and Crowley absolutely adores him. Par for the course. Thoughts on the muddled history of marriage and the power of love, persevering.

The Questions We Don't Ask by EdnaV (M)

It’s 1989, and Aziraphale has been reprimanded for helping some people that Sandalphon doesn’t like. Crowley tries to take care of him. It’s 1941, it’s 1793, it’s 1020. Crowley and Aziraphale take care of each other throughout history.

The Stylings of Madam Glena by altsernative (T)

It's 1977, eight years after Aziraphale said "You got too fast for me," and Crowley hasn't seen him since. In Aziraphale's absence, Crowley helps set up the Sundown Club, a gay bar in Soho. He tells himself--and downstairs--that it's building a space for "workers of inequity," although he finds comfort in the community. He's settled into a quiet routine of drinking at the bar every week until a beautiful drag queen captures his attention. Crowley feels unexpected things. It's weird. And where is Aziraphale?

A Strong and Silent Pride by sleepyMoritz (M)

By the start of 1982, the disease - previously known as Gay Related Immune Deficiency, or GRID - had a new name. AIDS. This did not stop it from being called the gay plague in the media. This did not stop the rampant homophobia. This did not stop the fear.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #queer history #queer themes #mod d

[artful-aries]

Genshin Men: Thoughts on Marriage + How They Would Propose

ok so it's not ALL the genshin men in this post but I do plan to do all of them at some point... (Feat. Diluc, Childe, and Cyno)

Diluc

Diluc is a very traditional man, he would be open to the idea of marriage within reason (ie; after being in a relationship for a significant amount of time)

There would be a small part of him that would have reservations about marrying you; not because of you, but because of his own traumas and issues. He's scared he won't measure up to be the husband you deserve, or that he might lose you

He's a man who pushes past his fears and shortcomings though, especially for the sake of those he cares about. He'll often find himself pondering the idea of marrying you

He would want the proposal to be absolutely perfect, it was the bare minimum of what you deserved after all, but every plan that he would begin to formulate would never come to fruition; he would find some unacceptable flaw and start the process all over again in his head

And then, suddenly one evening as the setting sun lights your face and hair aglow in an ethereal light, he finds the words tumbling out of him like a drunkard leaving the Angel's Share

"Will you marry me, my love?"

Childe (Tartaglia)

This man is all about family, and wants nothing more than to start his own family with you, so of course he likes the idea of marriage

He does worry about his position as a Harbinger though; marrying him would surely put a target on your back, and while he never had any doubts about his own ability to protect you, he didn't like the idea of you being put in danger because of him

Nonetheless, this man loves you so. He would rip out his still beating heart if you asked him to. And it won't be long before he considers the option of marriage before he proposes to you

It's surprisingly sweet and traditional; he takes you to the fanciest place to eat in Liyue, buys you a bouquet of glaze lilies, and takes you on a moonlight walk along the coast just outside of Liyue Harbor for privacy

It's there that he gets down on one knee and proposes, "I used to fight for the sake of getting stronger and beating each opponent, but now...I do the fighting for you, Darling. You mean the world to me. Would you do the honor of being my spouse, now and forever?"

Cyno

Cyno doesn't think much about the concept of marriage until you bring it up idly in conversation one day. It's not that you weren't good enough for him to consider the possibility, it's just that his work as the General Mahamatra keeps him so busy he literally didn't have the time to consider the future with you

He would listen to what you have to say about the idea, but he will hold back his concerns and deflect the conversation. He doesn't want to rain on your parade, but he has his doubt about being able to balance being a good husband and being the General Mahamatra, not to mention the danger you would be put in by association

Cyno takes the longest out of the three to finally decide to propose to you, reasoning that he's been able to keep you safe so far in your relationship, and marriage would bind you to him; in his mind, it would be like he was always with you in some way

His proposal would be a mix; he would prepare you a nice meal or take you somewhere to eat, and ask if he can speak to you privately. With the serious tone, for a minute you're sweating bullets thinking he was upset with you

In his proposal, he wouldn't make any of his awful jokes. He takes the matter too seriously to feel like delivering puns. Cyno will take your hands and look deep into your eyes before finally speaking, "As a General Mahamatra, it is my duty to carry out judgement. When it comes to you, I can think of no better judgement than for me to remain by your side, until the day I draw my final breath. Will you marry me, (Y/n)?"

He is thoroughly shocked when you start crying, thinking he has deeply offended you somehow with his proposal. It's at this point he cracks a joke, trying to soothe you.

Cyno: "B-Before you say yes to a proposal, there is one thing you have to consider..."

Y/N: "What is that?"

Cyno: "On one hand, you get a really nice ring, but on the other hand, you won't.

In Gandharva Ville, Tighnari is stricken by a sudden migraine of an unknown cause

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #Diluc #Tartaglia #Childe #Cyno #diluc x reader #tartaglia x reader #cyno x reader #diluc x y/n #tartaglia x y/n #cyno x y/n #childe x reader #childe x y/n

[littlebabyyd0ll]

THE LION AND THE LAMB, PART ONE

Forced to leave your home land for the hand of the man your sister had previously been wed to, you find yourself travelling from heaven to hell. Fallen angels couldn’t really be beautiful, could they?

warnings: reader is barb’s sister, explicit themes of death, gothic genre, vampirism, arranged marriages. r’s father physically and mentally abuses her. slight NSWF themes within. you are responsible for your own media consumption.

kinktober day one my angels!!! enjoy!! 18+ only.

main masterlist ! series masterlist ! kinktober 2023

Unbound cobblestone lurches the carriage side to side once more, like an abandoned ship far out at sea, taken captive by the powerful hold of Poseidon. It wasn’t much long ago that you were sea sick from the choppy waves, accompanied by your father and his men on your travels from the bright light of your home, to the drizzling haze that was cast over the country of Hawkins. Oh, how it lived up to its reputation. Hawkins was a dark and dreary place, constantly overcast and damp with the rain that fell upon stone homes and muddied roads. The people of the country watched your bright golden carriage with an unsettling known certainty, a grimace which they all shared under the rule of their king. Draped in their dreary colours of grey and stained white, as though all colours were banned from the land. It haunts you, the undead look in their eyes as you clutch at the windowsill whilst rolling past. 

These were to be your people, your devout servants of the kingdom. 

No life shimmered in their eyes. No hands raised in warm welcomes and waves of the sight of their new queen-to-be. The people of Hawkins were used to this parade, used to the shining golden riches come from afar, accustomed with the cycle that would meet their new queen. For it happened on repeat, to every suitor that King Edward was engaged to marry. You knew, too. For it had been your sister, only months ago. 

Forcing your eyes away from the rain sodden faces of the kingdom’s people, you turned back to the other lively body in the carriage. Your father, crown tall and proper upon his head, paid no attention to the villagers as you rolled on past. His sharp gaze was unwavering on the scroll in front of him, the one composed by the King of Hawkins himself. A proposal of marriage to the King, your father, for the hand of his second eldest child, the last daughter in the line of succession. You. 

Of course, despite what happened with Barbara, your elder sister who was sent mere months ago to be wed to King Edmund, your father had been delighted by the offer, and had readied your things to leave within the hour. You had faced treacherous oceans and sinking roads to get here. All signs to turn back, to rid yourself of this fate, to run and never return. And, yet, here you sat, dress full and far too outlandish for the style of the people here. The sweetheart neckline of your glimmering, ballet-slipper pink dress seems foolish for the weather, as do the puffed sleeves that fall upon your shoulder. The corset is tight and restricting, but the ribbons that cinch the back of the gown are simply delightful and princesslike. You stand out like a sore thumb in a land like this. 

Nerves prickle under your bare skin, and suddenly your tiara weighs heavy. You see the way that your father eyeballs the number of riches that King Edward has offered for your hand and have to force yourself not to sneer at the all too familiar look. The same look that he got when King Edward had written for Barbara���s hand. As your time as princess you have come to learn many things, but one in particular. 

Men will do anything for power, glory and riches. 

“Must you go through with it, father?” Your voice is softer than intended, has none of the strength and authority that your mother once had. You had hoped to plea with him, to present a case like the sinners in court, though you truly were an innocent in all of this. 

There’s barely even a look of recognition as your father’s dull tone fills the emptiness of the rumbling carriage. “The relationship of two kingdoms is not something I am willing to endanger for your personal happiness, daughter. You will fulfil your duty as your mother did, as did your sister.”

“And look what happened to them both.” You interfere, small hands bunching at the tulle of your dress, one of the most expensive in your collection. Only the best to impress your husband-to-be. “They are dead, father. Cold as stone and buried six feet under. Are you not convinced that the same awaits me? Awaits any girl that is forced into the clutches of a powerful man?” There it is; the passion, the fire, the dare. It's the very thing that makes your father’s nostrils flare and has his hand swinging towards you. His jewelled, golden ring pierces the delicate skin upon your pigmented lips and has your face barrelling towards the small window. 

Your surprised gasp is overthrown by his tone. “It is that very attitude that surely killed them both. You will do well to remember your place in this world. You are nothing but a pawn. You are a peace treaty between lands. If your blood is the one that is spilled, so be it. My sons are becoming great men, and they are to be my legacy.” He leans forward, glaring into your tear sodden eyes. He traces the stains that run down your cheeks, sadistic pride fills his bones. He is no more family to you than King Edward. You may share blood, but he is no father of yours. “Nobody will remember the losses of a few princesses. King Edward has ruled for a glorious lifetime. You are not his first wife, and you will surely not be his last.” The words sting at your heart, to know that he is willing to bury you under a gravestone for gold, for numbers on parchment. “That is your fate, daughter. Loathe it, spite it, I do not care. But you will obey it.”

Of course you would. That was your duty. But the truth bares no kindness, no comfort in the depths of its sadness. You force your gaze away, force yourself to stop the rapid rise and fall of your chest, and dab the wound upon your lip with the handkerchief halfheartedly thrown at your lap. Your glossy eyes watch as the bumpy hill rises, and the stone walls come into view. The castle is magnificent, tall spires piercing the swirling skies and mighty defences standing proud as protection, though no one has dared to invade Hawkins in almost two hundred years. The thought had your stomach churning. Gossip of King Edward told a thousand different stories, some say that he is hypnotically handsome. Some say that wives fall dead because they grow jealous of his untimely beauty, one that they could never parallel. Others say that they drop dead at the sight of him, for he is so old that they would rather die than bed him. No one could tell you the age of the king, even when you had offered a satchel of gold. 

Once more, all good fates called out to you, begged at you not to exit the carriage and not to follow the path to the chain strung doors. And yet, a part of your soul yearned for the dark wood cast in iron. You ached to find out if the rumours were true, ached to be wed, ached to live as queen, as you had dreamed as a little girl. Subconsciously, as your father’s men knock repeatedly at the wood door, you raise your hand to the dried blood upon your lip, camouflaged with freshly applied rouge. In the depths of your heart, you hoped your fiancè to be a kind man, a man that did not strike, a man that gave you the best in life, a man that adored you. All you had was hope. 

A great groan comes from the pushing of the heavy doors. King Edward’s men appear either side of the growing gap, heaving with all their might to open the doors. The inside is dark, much darker than the outside of the castle, only the flickering flames of tall candles are enough to lighten the walkway. The carriage is opened for you, yet you await your turn. Of course, your father barges past you and steps on the once pristine fabric of your dress. A muddied footprint stains it now, and reflects the notion that your father will always be one step higher, one step in front, and he can easily kick you back down again. With a shaky breath your hands raise up, adjust the tiara that sits heavy upon your head, and you force yourself to take the hand of the footman awaiting outside of the carriage. 

Drizzling rain falls onto the sapphires of your crown, the very same shade as your father’s surcoat. He talks as though he is the most important man amongst them, his words directed to a very uninterested looking Viceroy. He’s tall, unusually tanned for the people of Hawkins and the constant coverage of clouds. He’s also rugged, knightly looking, with mid length  hazel tassels of hair falling at the back of his neck. The King’s second in command bears scars upon his forehead and upon his cheek, and yet the most noticeable thing about him was how simply bored he looked to be listening to your father. And then, he catches sight of you. 

Timid little you whose dress is stained at the bottom from the mud on the ground. Timid little you that looks up at the magnificent castle with saucers for eyes. Timid little you who bares her neck and chest, all dressed up to appease her future husband. Timid little you, who is absolutely perfect for his King. 

“Princess.” The man calls, voice smooth as he side steps around your father, who does not seem best pleased to be interrupted. You, on the other hand, seem startled to even be addressed. You stand a little straighter, as though all the lady-like lessons that our maid had taught you growing up all came rushing back to the forefront of your mind at once. The Viceroy walks towards you with ease, his outfit a deep murky brown, adorned with the glimmering of shining golden buckles. They each hold the crest of King Edward’s court. He bends at the waist at the same time that you curtsy in greeting, bowing your head and begging that the tiara does not fall off. The chestnut haired man stands tall once more, one arm over his chest, the other proper behind his back. “My name is Steven, your majesty. Sir Steven, and I wish to make your stay here as pleasant as possible. It shall be my name you call if you ever face any difficulty. The king wishes you to have an exquisite time.” 

Sir Steven’s smile is enough to have you enchanted. It distracts you from the meaning behind his words: stay, time. As though none of this is permanent. He smiles at the mere sight of you, pretty in pink and so juxtaposing from the environment around you. The only other signs of colour come from the members of your court, your father, your ladies stepping out from the carriage behind your own. So much alike many of the brides that have come before you. Steven outstretches a white gloved hand towards you, beckoning you to walk alongside him. As you walk, you cannot help your full of life eyes to cast one more glance down the slopes if the mountainous hill that the castle sits upon, and down onto the villages below. You almost feel that if you squint hard enough, you can see where life meets death at the horizon. 

The halls of Munson Castle are dim and dark. The only sounds available in the dinginess are those of your ladies’ shoes upon the wooden floor behind you and the flickering of flames from the torches mounted to the walls. It seemed as though every magnificent window was guarded closed by large drapes of fabric curtains. No sunlight entered the halls, and the flames were just about strong enough to illuminate the paintings upon the walls. Great murals of battles from hundreds of years ago, some even considered myths, aligned the walls. Victors and losers alike, some of your ancestors were pictured in the paintings. Hundreds of years on, you wonder if your marriage to Edward would disappoint them, for he too was an ancestor of many people in the paintings. Thousands of years ago, your two kingdoms had been at war. No more, not with a marriage that came long ago, yet another wife that had died the night of their wedding. 

The thought propels you into memories of Barbara. This place was going to be her home, her beginning, her kingdom to rule as queen. Your heart rate spikes at the thought of how she would react, to your stealing of her husband. Would she get angry? Would she warn you of what had happened to her? She may even haunt these halls, dead in her pristine white wedding dress. For the Kingdoms of the Old, this was an extremely uncommon practice that only King Edward insisted upon. Usually brides-to-be were coated head to toe in gold, silver, bright colours of riches enough to show off the status of the family. King Edward only ever dressed his brides in plain white dresses, the only sign of riches coming from the measly tiara he would have them wear. A flimsy, silver thing with absolutely no jewels whatsoever. At least, that's what the servant’s gossip had said. None of your family had attended Barbara’s wedding, far too at a loss with the death of your mother. Your father had shipped her away without as much as a goodbye. At the very least, you still had his presence. There was always something to be thankful for. 

Your hand still laid delicately upon Sir Steven’s palm as he walked you through the halls. 

“King Edward wishes to convey his deepest apologies for not being able to meet his bride-to-be, princess.” Spoke Steven, motioning for guards to open up another set of large and heavy doors. This one led directly into the throneroom, large enough to host magnificent balls and could just about fit the whole population of Hawkins inside. “You see, His Majesty deals with the court in the daytime, he spends his hours locked up inside of the Place of Arms. He holds his meetings there, you see, and that is your King’s only rule.” Steven suddenly drops your hand, his face deadly serious. You're sure that the expression on your face reflects the swirling inside of your stomach. “King Edward is a kind King and an even kinder husband. He only forbids you from ever entering the Place of Arms during the day.” Slowly, you nod in acceptance of Steven’s words, of your future husband’s wishes. Is that who he is to be? A man you never see in the day, a man who only ever wishes to bed you at night, who does not care for what you preoccupy your time with? “It is imperative that you understand, princess. There is no entrance to the Place of Arms. Never within daylight hours. What goes on behind those doors are for the King’s knowledge only.” 

It’s nothing more than a whisper, your voice. A gentle, “I understand.” And a subservient bow of your head. Just as you had been taught, you are appeasing your husband before having even met him. 

But it is this very moment that Steven takes notice of the state of your bottom lip. His voice gently beckons you upward, encouraging you to look him in the eyes. He does not meet yours, however, chocolate irises far too entranced at the dried blood. “How did this come to be?”

The gentleness surprises you, and in a fleeting heartbeat, a moment of misjudgement, your eyes betray you. They fly towards your father’s figure, watching as he scrutinises the two thrones upon the raised flooring of the great hall. Though they are far more magnificent than those of your home, the ones that your brothers will surely kill each other to sit upon, he stares at them as though they are nothing but a spec of dust, floating through the air. 

Steven notices immediately. “I will have word sent to the King.”

“No.” You instantly reply, eyes growing wide at the brashness of your tone. You sputter, “Forgive me. I-I just mean that it is nothing worth consulting his majesty over.” Your eyes tell a thousand stories, rhymes and riddles of all the times you have had to cover up injuries before. “Please.”

“He will find out, princess. Either through me, or the gossip of the servants.” Steven is sincere in his words, only looking you in the eye. “Let me soften the blow. He won't be best pleased, your grace.” 

Something aches within you. Had he taken a keen interest in Barbara like this? Does he pretend to care for all of his wives before they are cursed with untimely deaths? You wish not to know, face pale and hands shaking. 

“Would you be kind enough to take my daughter to her quarters, Sir Simon? She ought to ready herself for the ball tonight.” Your father approaches with his loud voice and his even louder footsteps. You are quite sure that if it were practical enough, he would have shoes of gold. “A perfect bride takes hours to perfect her beauty for her husband.” slowly, he takes a stand of your hair and curls it around his finger. An act which would seem harmless for some, yet you know its true meaning; a warning. Do not disappoint him. 

In your mind, the idea of your father’s obnoxiousness makes Steven more likely to tell the King that he had been the one to strike you. Perhaps that is what possesses you to speak so harshly. “His name is Sir Steven, father. You will do well to remember it.” 

Regret will surely come soon enough. But for now, you allow Sir Steven to escort you out of the ballroom, and all the way to the east wing, to your new quarters. 

Everything is ready for your arrival. The room is simply divine, despite its darkness. The sun is soon to set, so you believe. Everything is magnificent, the four poster bed, the mirror tall enough to be a giant, a great vanity and even soft, plush chairs for your relaxation. You gaze at it with fearsome admiration, a look that your ladies lining the walls have never seen before. Steven watches you with a growing sadness from the doorway. For you hold the same look in your eye that your sister had before you. And he knows that you too should await the same fate. But for now, he lets your girlhood run wild, and allows you to bask in all things prenuptial. 

“I will be back to escort you to the ball, your majesty.” He turns to the girls that watch you adoringly. “Ladies, this could be the most important eve of her life.” He turns back to you with a smile. “Make her feel like the fairest of all.”

And he disappears, closing the door with an unknown swiftness. It takes a mere moment before the act of your ladies drops, and they too fawn over all that is around you. You each squeal and laugh, completely enamoured by the riches and the newness of it all. Ladies Nancy, Robin and Erica gush over the luck you are presented with, and they tell you that you are destined to be the one true love of King Edward, that this marriage will be different to all those before. They speak whilst undressing you and leading you through a little side door into a spacious room, one with a sparkling golden bathtub at its centre. 

For the hours that follow, you are simply girls. The best of friends, readying one for a night of parties and celebration. New beginnings lay ahead of you, and yet they look at you the same way that they always have. With love, the same way that you used to look at Barbara. They tell you the quickly acquired gossip as they scrub underneath your nails and rake their fingers through your hair. 

“The King’s maid said that he is of fine beauty.” Nancy giggles, lightly fingering at one of the crimson rose petals that float on the surface of the water. Her sapphire coloured sleeves are rolled up as she leans over the tub, head resting against her arm. “And he is most kind, treats his people with only the best.”

“Am I the only one who saw the villagers as we rode in?” You murmured, watching robin as she fiddled with your fingernails. “They seemed so… lifeless. They bore no excitement to have a new queen. Everything here, it’s so different.” The words fall slowly and riddled with anxiety, and your ladies share a knowing look. “I wonder if she felt the same, coming here. If she were as scared as I.” 

“There can be no man worse to wed than your father, princess.” Erica speaks from behind you, gathering water to push away the soap in your hair. “The king, though his lovelife has been misfortunate, appears to be a good man. He has restored peace, it has been years since the last war broke out. The maids say that he is compelling.” You sigh quietly. “You cannot allow yourself to live in fear of what you do not know. The future is exciting. You ought to breathe, and forget about everything. Tonight, you are nought but a princess, a fiancé, about to meet her husband-to-be.” You can hear the way that she smiles through her words. “And we promise to make you look so saccharine that you take his breath away.”

They do. They always do. You almost can’t believe yourself as you look upon the mirror. The dress that had been brought up to your room was a deep blue, the blue of your court. Its neckline delved into your chest and dropped into ruffles of timeless lace that led straight to your waist, cinched by the strength of three girls and a corset. It fell all the way to your toes, where you had grown a few inches from the heeled shoes presented to you. As before, a mighty tiara sits pretty upon your hairline, glimmering in the candlelight. The ladies had pushed half of your hair up and styled the rest to cascade down your delicate shoulders. Nancy had insisted upon your collarbone being visible, insinuating that the show of skin would have your betrothed hardly able to control himself.

You weren't so sure that you liked the sound of that. 

“He will not be able to breathe when he gazes upon you.” Robin gushes, lightly adjusting the pearl necklace upon your neck, right over your pulse point. “He will wish to move the engagement from a week long to no more than a day.”

You roll your eyes. 

“It is true!” Nancy murmurs from behind you, her dainty hands laying delicate little forget-me-nots, the flower of your kingdom, into the flowing locks of your hair. Thank heavens that they had thought to preserve and bring the flowers, for the land of hawkins was half dead, You haven't seen much more than overgrown shrubbery on the way here.  “We have truly outdone ourselves, though it helps to have such an exquisite canvas.” 

“You ladies are really working hard to ensure I have you in my favour.” You laugh, adjusting the tiara in the mirror. Your ladies had also changed into their ball gowns, though nowhere near as regal and outlandish as your own. “Once I am wed I assure you that finding you the most perfect Lords will be at the top of my list of priorities.” 

If I live past the wedding night, you think, but do not speak. There is no purpose in killing their uplifted spirits. 

“Tonight is about you. Do not fret upon us.” Erica grins, shooing away Nancy and Robin, helping you down from the pedestal in front of the mirror in your larger-than-life room. Her hands are warm against your skin, despite the ever growing chill of the castle. You grip onto her for life, holding on to something so valuable, something of home. Erica turns you slightly, giving one last adjustment as Nancy and Robin both come to stand by her sides. They each hold a matching grin, watching you with a lifelong earnestness. “Our princess.”

“Your future Queen.” Comes another tone, much deeper than possible of the three girls that stood in the room with you. You each turn to the now somewhat familiar man, Sir Steven, as he lingers upon the doorway. He still bears the dull brown colour, though now his uniform is much more exquisite. His tunic is stark blue, matching the colours of your Kingdom. He also wears brown and red on his overcoats, the colours of his kingdom. It is a peaceful statement, the joining of two kingdoms. 

You wonder if he wore that to Barbara’s engagement ball. 

Steven looks at you with his big brown eyes, taking in the sight before him. Even you have to admit, you feel like a glowing star. “You look divine.” He murmurs, lifting his arm and outstretching it towards you. Your dainty hand falls into the crook of his elbow effortlessly. “The king shall admire your vision for years to come.” 

And it suddenly hits you. Tonight is about you, this is all for you. You and your future husband, who you will meet in mere moments. He is mere rooms away as Steven escorts you towards the throne room, and you suddenly realise that these could be your last living moments. If the rumours about King Edward are true, this could truly be your last eve alive. You could fall dead at the very sight of him. Perhaps he is a terribly old man who wants nothing more than for you to bed him and give him heirs. A pretty plaything. A pawn to another man’s game. 

You shudder a breath, one that has your chest pushing harshly into the unforgiving corset. There’s a burst of light in the depths of the dark hallways. It comes from the cracks in the ajar door of the trone room. There is a faint tune of music, great orchestral music alike. Your footsteps sound faintly as you grow closer, no match for the chatter and music and dancing. Steven can feel the sudden sharpness of your nails through his overcoat, and murmurs lowly. “Relax. You will be perfect.” 

You wish you could. 

But the nerves do not die as you stand with Steven in front of the great double doors. Your heart pounds wildly as the herald by the door announces your name in a great bellowing shout. You tense as the double doors begin to widen, and the light becomes ten times more eminent. Steven drops his arm, and your weak arm falls limp at your side. The dancing and chattering has stopped, and the music has become mellow, gentle to welcome you into the room of your new kingdom. The first thing you can see is the bright glowing lights, candles everywhere, and suddenly the room is anew. There is no darkness, no shadows creeping down your spine. The room is alive. As are the faces that stare back at you, so many Lords and Ladies, perhaps even royalty of different kingdoms. It is easy to spot who is of Hawkins, their red emblems pinned neatly to the breasts of both tunics and dresses. They part like waves of the sea, and the aura inside the room bides you in without thought. Some greater nature pulls you in, tugs you by force, and has your feet moving one step after the other into the middle of the room. 

You stop in the middle of the ballroom, beneath a magnificent golden chandelier. The gold flickers and shimmers with the flames around it, like stars overhead. You hope that all good fates and gods are watching you now, and will bless your soul. For right now, you feel like a fox against a pack of archers. Every person in the room stares at you, at only you, and yet they do not whisper a word. You turn, spinning on the spot, trying to identify someone, anyone. To find some familiarity amongst strangers. It does not come, the sense of relief that you so desperately sought. Instead, as you stop turning, a group of people in front of you begin to move, parting once more from one another. And then, the music begins to pick up, something deep and meaningful, a tune of the kingdom. Your eyes do not part with the scene in front of you, and still no pair of eyes stray from your figure. Scared. Alone. Until you see.

Black polished shoes graze against the wooden floor. They dazzle in the light, leading to an obsidian pair of breeches, belt loops adorned with hanging golden chains. A flowing material flutters behind the figure lightly, connected to his shoulders, hung by a golden chain to his frilled tunic. The sleeves of his shirt are long, yet his arms are defined enough to be conveyed. The figure that your eyes rake up is tall, taller than any man you have ever known. Your heartbeat impossibly quickens as your eyes meet raven curls, twisting up towards the most handsome face you possibly had ever seen. Sharp jaw and cheeks, dark features enhanced by his pale skin. King Edward looks celestial in all of his grace. He stops a foot or two in front of you lightly trembling form, and he’s so tall. Not lanky, built enough to convey his strength and he fills out his clothes. But that is not what captures your attention most, no, your future husband’s eyes are something of a fairytale. He stares at you softly, despite the sharpness of his eyes. They're brown, yet so much deeper and darker than Sir Steven’s. You swear that something swirls within the depths of those irises, and you are sure not to be mistaken when there is a flicker of gold and blood red, at the closest points to his pupils. 

The King is magnificent. 

Suddenly you feel as though you might fall to the wife’s curse, for his looks and beauty are far  too fine to be of this world. 

He could be an angel, or he could be the devil. His motivations seem unclear, for if he were just marrying for the nations, he would never stare at you the way that he does in that moment. King Edward looks at you as though you are the rarest jewel in the land, something to be cherished for millenia to come. He looks at you how the most adoring, caring husband would to his dearly beloved wife. It burns your chest. What is all this for? Is he merely just a shining actor, ready to do what he will to get you into bed?

But the King does not speak, he only moves. His eyes remain the same as he slowly circles around you, soft, gentle, yet observant. He is vetting you, ensuring that you would be the perfect wife, the perfect woman. You can remember the way that the maids in the castle back home had gripped at your hips and told you how a king would adore them, what they could do, what they could create. They saw you as a baby making machine. It’s not the same now, for you can feel the icy cold tingle left in the wake of King Edward’s stare. He observes your hair, fingertips grazing the ends lightly before he plucks one of the clusters of forget-me-nots out, and pockets it next to his neck tie. Blood red and sapphire blue. His eyes continue around you and his hand falls back to your hair, slowly pushing it away from your shoulder and neck as he comes back towards your line of vision. He seems to take in the sight of your pearl necklace, and Nancy was right, for you swear that his eyes darken at the sight. You flush at the realisation; The King wants you. He finds you more than pleasing, and you seem to have passed his evaluations. Relief floods you – the poorly hidden cut upon your bottom lip had not deterred him.

You feel tiny under his gaze. You can barely breathe, and you feel as though your heart is trying to escape from your chest. It would be impossible to match him, to be acquainted with his wealth, his power. You would surely forever be known as the princess who did not deserve such a man. 

And yet, King Edward falls down to one knee. He lowers himself, far lower than you. At first, you believe him to be bowing. But the reality is far different. The King produces a golden ring, a deep, dark ruby red jewel encrusted with a halo of darling diamonds. It sits proudly between his own ringed fingers, presented to you, and is probably worth more than anything you have ever owned. Across the room, you can practically hear your father encouraging you to take the ring, to take the King as your husband. 

“Princess,” his voice is so unlike anything you have ever heard before. So rich and smooth, yet intoxicating and deep He speaks as a King, with power and authority. His voice can be heard over the orchestral music, he is so respected. So adored. “I present you with this ring as a symbol of our unity. Of two kingdoms. Take this ring, and I will give you anything you could ever ask for, anything your heart could ever desire. Swear yourself to me, as my wife, as my Queen, and you shall have eternal glory.”

You raise a trembling hand towards him. Words cannot convey the sudden compelling that you have, the need to take his hand, to fulfil what he has promised for you. You feel air-light as you speak almost breathlessly, “I swear myself to you, King Edward.” 

The pressure of your corset seems to have faded. You can breathe freely as soon as the ring slips onto your finger. His hand is cold as he reaches for your finger, chilled as the winter’s snow. You jolt, though do your best to contain it as your skin makes contact with his own. You’ve surely never felt something so cold before, and yet never felt so warm. Heat and bliss dance around you as the ring slips over your knuckle, and falls perfectly into place against your skin. 

You admire the jewel for a moment, take in the fact that it now resides there, upon your very own finger. You take in the fact that King Edward had not seen you and rejected you in a moment, instead fallen to his knee and presented you with a glistening ring. Your heart soars, and your eyes travel to meet his. Those around you have began to dance once more, shouting their cheers for their king. You are certain that you heard Robin’s squeal in there somewhere. He watches you intently, as though a creature so beautiful had never existed before. He seems mystified, perhaps even as much so as you are. The King looks at you as though there is a halo upon the crown of your head, and God had delivered you here on a silver platter himself. 

Edward raises your entwined hands, presses his cool lips against your knuckles, and drags you further under his spell. You spin and spin, until you realise that it isn’t only in your head, and the two of you are dancing, hand in hand, his other at the curve of your waist. You can feel the way that his thumb glides over the fabric of your dress, the subtle admiring of such fine clothing. King Edward is a force that hits you like a storm.

“You are a rarity.” He murmurs to you, eyes flickering golden. His lips entrance you as they move, something so compelling yet familiar to you. Did those lips ever meet Barbara’s? How many of his past wives has he held this way, presented such fine jewellery to? King Edward has ruled for a glorious lifetime. You are not his first wife, and you will surely not be his last. It is as though he can detect a disturbance within your aura, the King moves to pull you closer. Your breath hitches as you feel the solid wall of his chest, the brushing of his thigh against your dress. “A fine jewel, something men like I could only ever dream of.” The forget-me-not in his necktie sways with the movement of his dancing. His voice lulls you, but his hands have you more alive than ever before. “The stars are shining down upon me tonight. Being King has brought me many fortunes, but you, my heart, are the most supreme of them all.”

You can almost hear your maids back home, telling you what to say, how to bat your eyes, how to smile. Yet it almost comes on unconsciously as you speak to your newly betrothed. “I wish nothing more than to prove myself to you, my King. I will serve you well as your Queen. Forever, I am indebted to you.” 

There is an incessant presence between the two of you, something that shifts in the air and pushes the blood through your veins. Though you have never felt it before in your life, you know what it is – arousal. Something you only learned of after one of Barbara’s ladies was caught in the stable with a young knight, and Robin spent the eve explaining the ways that people come together to procreate. You wonder how soon after the marriage King Edward will want to consummate. It is a clear thought in his own mind, for he looks at you as though you are the most divine meal, served on a silver platter. 

“I am the luckiest man in the whole kingdom.” He murmurs, eyes flickering from your neck to your eyes. “Sir Steven often overexaggerates, but he did not lie when it comes to your gentle beauty and charm. You are the finest bride-to-be.”

And, suddenly, something stirs within you. His words push you head first out of the trance he had gently swayed you into, and now you remember the absurdity of it all. The fact that Barbara was here, in your place, and now dead. The burn of arousal turns to a burn of fire, churning deep within you. You blaze. 

“Finer than my own sister?” You do not allow yourself to physically sneer, not in front of all these people, but your tone is enough for the King. He watches as you lean yourself away from him. “Or even the wife before? Will you say the same to one of my nieces, when they turn of age?”

But Edward does not falter. He does not grow angry, he does not shout, he does not strike. His eyes remain that same calm and cool. Golden, brown. His gentleness is suffocating. “I understand how–”

“The girl forgets herself.” A drunken tone interrupts. One you are all too familiar with, one that you avoid with great caution. Your dance with King Edward falls apart as you both turn to the stumbling figure of your father, who just happened to be passing as you spoke out of tone. A goblet is gripped tightly between his fingers. He drinks enough for half of the ballroom. Your father sneers openly at you, raising the goblet. “Nothing a simple drubbing won’t fix. She will take it, your highness, she will grow to understand her place.” Your father grumbles, swigging his mead. “Just as her mother did.”

The king straightens beside you. 

You can feel his energy change at the mention of harming you, the idea that he should be the one to set you right with a physical hand. The King towers over both you and your father, and in the short time that you have known him, you are determined in your knowledge that he has far more power and authority than your father. 

“I hope you make jest,” the raven haired man speaks your father’s name lowly. Said man lowers his chalice, waveringly glancing between you and Edward. “The princess knows her place…” King Edward steps forwards, his dominance unmistakeable. Your father gulps. “She is the future Queen of the most powerful kingdom in this corner of the globe. She is my bride-to-be. I had hoped that my loyal servants had lied about the cut upon her saccharine lips. Perhaps, you forgot your own place? I would loathe to have to prosecute you ‘pon means to harm the future Queen.”

Your heart soars. Your lip stings dully. Your eyes are glassy and the shape of hearts, because nobody has ever, ever stood up for you like that. It is clear to you now - Edward is a fierce lover, and a loyal man. He works to protect you, protect his kingdom. You ache for the harsh words that you had previously spoken, how you had intended to harm his feelings. Here he is, protecting you from the torture of your own flesh and blood. Forget the rumours, the curses. In front of you is a human man protecting his newfound love. Perhaps you are different to all of his past queens, for you are sure that he cannot fall this quickly each time, cannot care so. 

Your heart begins to beat for the King of Hawkins. 

Your father breaks the stare between them first. He is no match for the pale, tall and built figure in front of him. Not to mention the sword-clad guards lined up against each wall of the ballroom. Sir Steven has drawn closer at the scene, his fingers grazing the metal of the hilt of his sword. His eyes are dangerous and dark, watching intently as your father begins to stumble backwards, his aged brows pulled together. 

Edward watches him go with a blank stare, yet still so intimidating. Most of the crowd around you are still dancing their hearts out, feet uncontrollably moving. As though they are destined to never stop, not unless their King tells them to. Perhaps it is not you that is a pawn, but them. 

A cold, gentle hand falls at your elbow, gripping lightly. Your eyes reach those of King Edward’s, but they are suddenly unfamiliar. There is no gold, no hint of red. They are almost obsidian black, the same tone as his curly hair. You can feel the invisible string pulling your brows together as you take in the sight, dainty hand moving up towards his face. The warmth of your skin caresses his cheek, thumb ghosting across the skin under his eye. 

“Your eyes…” you murmur, wracking your brain for a logical answer. “They have changed.” 

“They have not been the same since I set my sights on you, princess.” The King’s free hand meets yours, sandwiching you between his cool skin. “They will never be the same again.” 

You believe him wholeheartedly. You can see the meaning of his words within his eyes, and your heart bleeds for him. In fact, you are sure that you have already passed over your heart to him, pushed your hand inside your chest and dug around until you reached the beating organ, your vessel of life, and handed it over to him. 

The feeling lingers, once more underneath the spell of King Edward, throughout the eve. You are enamoured by him as he walks you through the throne room, introducing you to the strange people of Hawkins. Some of them look at you as though you are a piece of meat, and you are sure that you can feel the King’s grip on your waist tighten. They all seem to have a similar aura about them, like they share a hidden secret. They stare intensely, but you assume it is because you are an outsider. Still, King Edward puts you at ease. He speaks so freely, so smoothly. He shows you your future throne, shows you the deep, red ruby set at the crescent of the golden chair. It matches your ring entirely, and the King does not comment when you speak on their likeness. What else could you expect? It is the colour of his court, after all. You are still enamoured when he sneaks you away from the courtroom, when he steals you from the knowing stares of your ladies, who happily let him take you away. They steal your chalice of wine and usher you with shooing hands, winking wildly. 

You grin like a child, unable to contain your excitement,  in a way that you haven’t in so many years. Not since the last festival of light, back in your home kingdom, with your mother, when she had sang to you, span you in dance, braided your hair. You had not known a giddiness quite like this in such a long lifetime. You cannot help the way that you giggle as you run hand in hand through the flame lit halls. Your hair sways behind you, flowers surely falling from their neat positions. The clipping sound of your heels fills the hall, and King Edward’s somehow fall silently. You suppose in hindsight that it is due to his meticulous battle training, his tactics. 

The King takes you out to a courtyard, one that is filled with some of the first signs of life that you have seen since arriving in Hawkins. Flowers bloom in the midnight moon, something exotic and unseen of your land. Some are bright red, others variants of orange and yellow. They hold so much life, so natural and yet completely supernatural at the same time. He speaks their names slowly, guiding you through them with a gentle hand against your spine. You have never heard of the plants before, never been so in awe of the world’s beauty. 

King Edward watches you. His eyes take in the way that you kneel to be closer to the horticulture, the gentleness of your fingers as you test the leaves. He grows to quickly adore the soft nature of your voice, the inquiries of your genuine questions. He answers them with the same love in his eyes that you hold in yours, and suddenly you feel as though you could be his wife blind. Help him rule his kingdom without as such as a hiccup. 

“You will make the most beautiful Queen.” He speaks to you towards the end of the night, when the two of you have tucked yourselves away in a corner of the ballroom that Sir Steven made you return to. King Edward looks down at you as he speaks, large hands holding a chalice which he tips towards your lips. Obediently you open your mouth to him, the red wine burning upon your tongue as it slips past your healing lips. “So adoring, so fine. I wish for my people to serve you as they do me. I will arrange for you to visit the townsfolk with Sir Steven tomorrow, to see how they live.” You try not to think of their solemn faces, the death in their eyes. “You will grow to love them as your own, Princess.” 

“Anything you wish, My King.” The words come after a swallow of the alcohol, the King’s eyes following a falling drop of crimson as it cascades down your chin. His eyes flicker once more, a new sort of hunger hidden behind them. “Will you do me the pleasure of accompanying myself and Sir Steven?” 

His gaze shifts again, and something swirls in his chest — you can almost see it happening. 

“My duties lay elsewhere in the daytime, Princess. I did ask Steven to assure you of this,” 

“He did.” You’re quick to interject. “It was merely wishful thinking, my King. I apologise.” 

“You never have to be sorry.” He murmurs, dark eyes injecting a cooling sensation into your very veins. King Edward has put a spell on you, a spell that would surely soon have him chasing after you.

A spell that will have you running from the daylight. 

#<3 eddie munson #eddie munson! abby’s version #abby’s kinktober ! #dark! :0 #multiple characters #vampire #vampire!eddie #stranger things fanfic #stranger things au #knight!steve #eddie #eddie munson smut #princess!reader #Eddie Munson au #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader

[thelittlestpika]

My Hazbin Hotel platonic ships!

- Alastor and Rosie: Literally the definition of queer platonic pals.

- Angel Dust and Husk: As cute as it could be for them to be in love, the fact that Husk is 30 years older is yikes but I can see them as best friends.

- Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb: Do I have to clarify? Literal besties from the start and I love them.

- Vox/Valentino and Velvette: The Vees are the worst but I feel like Velvette is like Vox and Val's lesbian friend who has custody of the brain cell between the three.

- Sir Pentious and Everyone: He's just a friendly guy and I love him and his bonds with everyone.

Feel free to disagree but don't try to rain on my parade.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin rosie #hazbin cherri bomb #hazbin husk #hazbin valentino #hazbin vox #hazbin velvette #platonic #platonic ship

[fandomstickyy]

You never thought you'd love like this

Fluff

----------------------------

The faint buzz of rain tapped through the window. The wear of your pajamas is on the shabby side. Loose threads peak from cotton shorts under his shirt, baggy and long on your form. You do give it back every now and then because he loves that shirt too. The view of someone he loves wear and parade around in something he loves- something that belongs to him trumps whatever need for a shirt at all. Who needs clothes he can give them all to you if it means you'll be marked by his scent.

Besides you is a man. A man that never fails to make you feel understood and loved. It's like this man gets high off connection or smth because the way he looks at you... damn it can make you dizzy. He thinks you're so beautiful. 'Easy competition for Aphrodite'. He is love sick for sure. In this moment of the rain falling, snuggled up on the couch watching a movie on your guys' 'must watch together list' you can't help but look up at him, collecting every ounce of his beauty and essence you can hold onto when morning comes and he has to go to work. Just the thought makes you hold him tighter.

You hadn't seen him in what felt like too long. A couple of days- a week, it doesn't matter. The bed has been dull without his soft snoring, lulling you to sleep. His strong body seemed too big in your bed. It was almost comical at the way yall had to twist and turn in the full sized mattress just to sleep comfortably. If it wasn't for him clutching you in his arms you might just up and fall out of bed. His legs are messy. Either intertwined with yours or spread out in all sorts of angels. If his arms are not wrapped around you he always makes sure you guys are touching in some way. A hand on the arm or on your heartbeat. God forbid if you want a late night snack, this man will follow the trail of your beautiful smell to whatever room you found yourself after hours. And if you REALLY want some alone time, he'll squeeze you tight by the arm, hand, hug, thighs it don't matter. (He just wants to remind himself that you'll come back. Please squeeze him back!)

Baby has a really hard time falling asleep knowing you're in the other room. That all separating you two is a couple walls and your desire for late night ice cream. Walking back into your shared bedroom your heart jumps at the sight. His head deeply snuggled into your designated pillow, you pad over getlntly not to wake him. He's always beautiful when he sleeps. His cheeks are soft and his eyebrows twitch a little when dreaming.

You two finally had a day where you were both off work. The night prior your phone held onto messages of love and longing.

Sleep well baby, I want you nice and well rested for our day together tmr <3.

Saccharine goo poured from the two of you whenever the other is involved. You don't remember when you got so whipped but in the swell of thoughts you have about him, regret of love ceases to show.

Your friends gushed when they met him for the first time. The next time you saw them, the first discussion was about if you guys said the 'big 3 words'.

"What?! We're not that serious..he's just a cool guy. Don't get so caught up. If it goes somewhere it does, if it don't it dont." You almost couldn't contain your smile. You shrugged them off then, but so much has changed. You can no longer hold those statements as truth. Too many memories have been made. You know he sleeps with his socks on or how he chews ice when he's really nervous. You know his favorite pastry always brightens his day because of a one off memory in his childhood. You two care too much about each other for this to be anything but casual. You were love sick too, it's true.

"Y-youre making me nervous there"

Lost in thought you hardly heard the fade in to his voice. The rasp of his voice settled in your ears. He's so cute like this. The soft glow of the movie playing. Hair messy, remnants of your handcrafted braids floating about his hair, peaking out at the tilt of his head. Oh, wait! He's staring at you-

"Huh?" Cheeks heating up, unable to hold back a toothy smile. His chest bounced lightly in laughter, shifting you slightly.

Gesturing towards the tv, "I'm trying to watch this movie my love has been waiting and waiting to watch," when he turns to look at you there's a pause, "and you...."

"And I..what?" Things were different now. There's home in his eyes. You hang off every word, every facial shift. It's deeply ingrained in the way you move. The way you talk to strangers. The way you look yourself in the mirror is different now. All your features are the same, but your heart is filled with his. All the things you ached away from about yourself beam with a desire to be loved. Your stretchmarks, he's traced so delicately. Your belly, he's slept on so gently. And your scars, he's kissed so lovingly. You never thought you'd love like this.

"God.. what I would do without you I hope I never know." The glow of the movie long forgotten shines on his reddened cheeks as he tries to bury a complicated smile. A smile that says 'I love you, please don't leave.' You can only hope he knows your smile says the same.

----------------------

KIRISHIMA, Denki, Sero, Hawks, BOKUTO, itadori

(Anyone you thought I missed 👀? I left it pretty vague this time)

---------------------

Au: wow haven't written fan related content or at all really in so long! Tell me what you think xx

What would be on your 'must watch together list' ?? I think mine would be Black Swan, a Twilight movie bc slay, and a horror movie bc I'm too scared to watch them by myself 😭

#kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #denki kaminari #denki x reader #bnha denki #sero hanta #sero x reader #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu bokuto #haikyuu #yuji itadori #jujutsu itadori #jujitsu kaisen #itadori x reader #mha hawks #hawks x reader #keigo x reader #mha

[sconesfortea]

A look at the S2 title sequence:

Crowley lights a match "Let there be light"

As with the first season, all (nearly all?) the faces of these figures are made up for David & Michael's faces

Gabriel & his box

We see Job's goats, his children's house, the permit, & crows with goat legs

In the graveyard we see a tomb with 'Archer' on it, graves with 'Everyday', 'Peter Paintball', 'Jane Austen', 'Left early to avoid the rush', 'Here lies the former shell of Beelzebub', & 'Here lies Adam "I do not understand surely your very existence requires the ending of the world" '

In the last image from the graveyard you can see the blue lizard in the parade

Gabriel's box can be seen again behind the cross on the left

In hell we see the n**i eating spider, desks & office chairs, a pentagram, unicorn (?) skulls, a guillotine & buildings in the background

In the bombed out London streets we see a gents toilet sign, an tube sign, a double decker bus with 'Wings For Victory' on the side, a 30 mph speed limit sign & a poster for 'Stairway to Heaven'

In The Windmill theatre we can see the turnip in the background. It's raining rabbits & there is a large bronze rabbit on its side on the ground

The backs of the seats have plaques with book titles on, they are: A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens, Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen, The Crow Road by Iain Banks, & Good Omens by Terry Pratchett. All of these books appear in Aziraphale's shop, being organised by Jim. There is also another bronze rabbit sitting in a seat & a green hat hanging on The Crow Road seat, this is the book we see Muriel reading in ep 6

We see another bronze rabbit, this time in a spacesuit, as Aziraphale & Crowley dance around each other

This is possibly Alpha Centauri between Crowley & Aziraphale, slightly closer to Crowley

'Thy Kingdom Airways' and tartan grass

Piles of records surround the coffee shop & jukebox, as it rains hearts that smash on impact with the ground. Some of the records have things visible on them but I can't make them out

We see the parade pass lifts, with angels descending from heaven

Leading the parade is Saraqael, followed closely by a dark figure carrying a giant coffee cup on their back. idk about the coffee theory but there's no denying that coffee cup [Edit: the coffee cup appears at least 3 times, only from modern times on though]

Each episode the marquee and posters on the cinema change to match the episode title. The cinema is called 'The Parousia', parousia refers to the second coming

Inside the cinema there is a duck playing the accordion (or possibly half duck/half accordion hybrid idk) under the seats, on the left. [ETA: as @straphangerr has pointed out this is a reference to Mr Brown's newspaper that's on the back of his clipboard throughout the series] There is also a duck headed figure in one of the booths in the wall. Above which there seems to be a Crowley/Aziraphale couple kissing (maybe?)

Again we get a different screen for each episode here

The ship below them here says 'P.A. Resurrectionist' on it. It is the same ship sticking out of the "mountain" as the title comes up

All through the titles we see the parade carrying flags & banners

#im sure i missed loads & there are mistakes but its 4am so be kind pls #good omens #good omens spoilers #gos2spoilers #spoilers #| #long post #good omens easter eggs #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #queued

[findroleplay]

Hi! I am Female 23, I am looking for role play partners who are 19+, because I've been in a major role play mood, I am semi lit so you don't have to go to crazy on how big the reply is, but I do need you have good Grammer, not super picky, my english isn't the best either since my first language was German. I also do OC x CC, CC x CC or OC x OC , I also do sexual, we can do dark and non dark content, soft kink and super kinky role plays, I also do BL, Yuri, and straight Role plays, I do mainly play submissive or semi doms(Aka playful doms)

Animes I roleplay! :

Jujutsu Kaisen, Demon Slayer, Tokyo Revengers, Fire Force, Genshin Impact, My Hero, Yarichin Bitch Club, Naruto, Haikyuu, Kuroko No Basket, Devil is a part Timer, Classroom of the elite, Food wars, That time I got reincarnated as a Slime, Rising of the Shield Hero, Danganronpa, Death Parade, Free! , Tokyo Ghoul, Assassination Classroom, Avatar: Last Airbender, Durarara!!, Fruits Basket, Re;Zero, Fairy Tail, Spy x Family, Attack On Titan, Yu-gi-oh, Blue Exorcist, Seraph Of the End, Angels of Death, Stray dogs, Servamp, Wolf's Rain, many more to list. Lol

Games I roleplay

Zelda : Tears Of the kingdom, Breath of the wild,

Fire Emblem (Any and all games)

Roleplay Rules :

Please don't control my character, because its not fun when someone does that

Please no one liners (it honestly hard to go off by one liners)

Don't use any emojis unless you are talking to me outside of roleplay or it's like a text in the rp

If you're interested in roleplaying with me, like this post or interact with this post, but please be 19+ and thank you! Hope we can become good roleplay partners!

-

#Jujutsu Kaisen rp #Demon Slayer rp #Tokyo Revengers rp #Fire Force rp #Genshin Impact rp #My Hero rp #Yarichin Bitch Club rp #Naruto rp #Haikyuu rp #Kuroko No Basket rp #Devil is a part Timer rp #Classroom of the elite rp #Food wars rp #That time I got reincarnated as a Slime rp #Rising of the Shield Hero rp #Danganronpa rp #Death Parade rp #Free! rp #Tokyo Ghoul rp #Assassination Classroom rp #Avatar: Last Airbender rp #Durarara!! rp #Fruits Basket rp #Re;Zero rp #Fairy Tail rp #Spy x Family rp #Attack On Titan rp #Yu-gi-oh rp #Blue Exorcist rp #Seraph Of the End rp

[ladythornofrivia]

song bird

Pair: Reiner x Reader

Warnings: Smut. Reiner being a flirtatious bad boy—popular with the ladies—cute fluff. Flirting. Flirtation at Reiner’s part. Fluff at first, angst and smut come later. Spice is nice. Mentions of serious topics and more. And serious flashbacks from season 1 in Reiner’s POV. MDNI, NSFW.

A/N: Other than Levi, my other favorite character is Reiner. He kinda grew on me since season 4 of Attack on Titan, and I’m not going to lie, he’s gotten hotter. So does Eren with long hair. But overall, every anime character is hot—Like Toji and Gojo. That’s all I’ve got to say on that. I just realized I got sidetrack. Aside from Levi and Eren, Reiner got hot. Really hot, and has great character development. Please enjoy this fanfic. :) I’m sorry that it’s long. Reader’s singing is inspired from me listening to Disney’s Sleeping Beauty. For Reiner fans, this one’s for you.

(Please report if anyone decides to steal/plagiarize my work and notify me. Thank you.)

Chapter One

Angel in the Gardens

Next Chapter

In the year of 854, things haven’t changed anything in Marley except Reiner. Although the change in Marley is a little more advance than the last time he resided before the mission. In his younger years, he was assure of himself, life is impossible with the life of prosperity with his family and relatives, and with his Armored Titan powers, anything is possible that could be reach, even his dreams beyond.

But now, with the retaliation and Eren’s endless cycle of hatred in his heart, Reiner wouldn’t and couldn’t blame him. As he came back, the rose-tainted windows shattered, and its colors wilted to stale and darkened. Everything he dreamt of, of being a hero, was his fault.

His mission with Zeke was no challenge; he has done this—entirely trained this since he was a young boy, born with an Eldian mother and a Marleyan father. Most of his childhood has brought up by his mother, his father was absent, even when encountering his father, he felt a struck of shame clutching and became a heavy heart. Reiner up skill his knowledge and agility in the military. He could recall the rain—drenched and heavy, carrying a loaded weapon in his arms as he ran to keep up the running course.

Realizing he has no childhood to conjure, only the days of the preparation for the upcoming years to hold his reputation. His days on being the candidate to inherit Armored Titan sounded like a victory. All the gatherers and onlookers at the parade, showering the Warriors with celebration. Reiner waved before the crowd, unknowingly what lies ahead. Everything was simple for him. Except now, it felt like a feverish dream, a good one, perhaps, but—maybe it wasn’t so. As soon as he got older, his young mind refined into a conclusion that inheriting a Titan power was nothing but an extreme burden.

For years he fought, he felt pain at first, but he has become immune, so immune he hasn’t realized he has two personalities—as a role of a soldier and a warrior.

What has become of Reiner, if not besides as a potential and a born-product for Marley’s representation of strength?

Was he even born to be as himself in the first place?

He had a moment, whether it’s up for him to still continue. Until now, he’s still breathing with a coursing veins with a thirteen-year curse.

What then if he hadn’t survived from Paradis? Power of Armored Titan will, no doubt, pass onto someone else has greater potential than Reiner. Yet, somehow, he’s still here, alive, in the flesh, not as a pure ghost. Though he maybe because his lively soul went numb.

Zeke has done it’s final job on the mission at Fort Slava, and led them to go home happily, reuniting with his family. He hasn’t said much to his mother other than a simple greeting. And when his relatives came and chat, when his uncle asked him regarding to Paradis, Reiner could describe anything but negative—the negativity lacks, but kept uttering. Some were shocked at Reiner’s statement of the potato girl. Each day has begun a turmoil in his mind. In sleepless nights, he tried to drown out the sounds of screams and cries and treachery. Each time he closes his eyes, white flashes overtaken, his memories of the greatest fighters and soldiers in Paradis—the Ackermans.

Then Eren’s toothy smile went into scorching rage.

He’d never forget the look on Eren’s face when Reiner unveiled his injured and regenerated.

The twist of nightmares felt real. Maybe because they are. Reiner couldn’t handle nightmares. People who thought of nightmares as useless dreams have a heart of steel. He hasn’t told a soul since he returned.

His mind snapped. And his heart thumped.

There’s one thing Reiner wouldn’t erase.

You.

He remembered you. He could still hear the sound of your voice calling to him, singing to him, lull him to sleep each time he came by and conversed with you. With rising daylight and glowing moonlight, he yearned to stay by your side forever.

Did he have to leave you for good? He couldn’t bear a hurtful look on your face, and the battle between Paradis and Marley couldn’t contain countless emotions running through him. Reiner was a coward, not knowing what to say to you. Or perhaps he’s afraid because he knows what your reaction and words are going to be. He soon to be longing for your touch, your voice. Your voice resonated him, as if he’s lost into a trance, lost his goal and objective and drowned into your arms and a song adorned upon your smiling face.

Then he tried to hum the tune, but couldn’t replicate it; he wasn’t a good singer. Hearing your laughter after him attempting to tune your voice, he find himself laughing soon after.

Realizing you’re not here, Reiner’s tear drops fell.

He wished to see you again. But how will he? If he attempts to be a deserter, it’s a final sentence for him.

He wouldn’t care.

Deep down, he’d rather stay with you, run away with you, from Eldians and Marleyans and live in another deserted island to start anew. No more playing soldier or a servant to his homeland.

His tears drowned in pillow sheets as his somber eyes replaced his vision with darkness and listless dreams.

Anything would be better than life’s silence in Marley.

~~~

~Year 850~

Fierce concentration due to training has been difficult for a young Warrior. Reiner, along with his companions, Bertholdt and Annie, came into Paradis for one thing. The Founding Titan. With the possession of the Founding Titan, it could end the lives of their enemies in Paradis for good. War hasn’t been kind to them since the day they took their first breath as their sworn oath. They took the mission without question; they—three Warriors—must contribute to their land, Marley.

For the greater good, they all said.

And hoped—prayed, even.

Reiner had countless doubts in his mind, despite his chosen status as a Warrior. Until Bertholdt told him that there are other things need to be occupied. Their infiltration was a success on their part, but seeing thousands—possibly hundred thousands of civilians in Paradis were at their swift end. Many mourned and fought. Others, fought against their livelihood, whether they want to fight or struggle.

He could hear their screams—their agonies, hate and cries every night since the first time he and his friends came. Everything was in shambles, and the crowd grew wilder with food supplies and good shelter during difficult hours. Adults starved themselves to feed their children with good consumable bread, sometimes with a bit of cheese and dairy to drain while others kept the food and space to themselves—all cramped with melancholic and upsetting atmosphere. Shortcomings went by when the meat supplies are strictly limited, and the law abide the rule to eliminate several folks after their failed years of attempting to crop and grow rations in the stubborn and dry field. Whether rain or shine, nothing prevail. They all kept trying until they found themselves exhausted and drowning in further to despair and anger.

This wasn’t the life people wanted. They wanted a lifelong prosperity and their properties to be in order. Even if it means to be locked away in a 60 meter wall from Titans.

Marley’s guidance to the future Warriors must be advanced and clever if it means for the predecessors to amplify the example of becoming a greater threat that contributes to annihilate the history’s nightmares. A spark of evolution, an ignited ideals and source of persuasion of the Marley lands to set the world rock to the core.

Paradis, on the other hand, hadn’t set the world alight. Paradis was as quiet as a tomb—untouched.

Once.

It was once pristine and silent, surrounded by trees and animals and mountains and quiet lakes.

A newly world from theirs—Reiner’s, Annie’s and Bertholdt’s.

A newly world to which they must merge as one of them.

~~~

Wearing a uniform and staying motionless under a torrid weather was a torture.

Commander Shadis kept an eye to the new coming trainees—104th Training Corps. With wide eyes fatigued and a bald head is enough to scare others. Not Reiner, though. Gladly, he doesn’t need to do the introductions. So does Annie and Bertholdt. The grim look in their eyes says it all.

The only Reiner is amused of is when the girl was eating a hot potato in her hand. Though at the end of the day, she was punished to run for hours until evening. Supper between trainees was another thing Reiner had to attend like the rest. Though his attention wasn’t on him; but his heart pounded when a boy with teal eyes and brown hair mentioned of the Titans that attacked and destroyed Shiganshina. A boy named Eren Yeager described their appearances. It was vague, but, Reiner knew what Eren meant. Maintaining his reaction, Reiner kept sipping his drink in stilled and calm pace, watching everyone being so oddly fascinated with Eren’s story until the rivalry with another boy, decided to jump in and argue. They somewhat reminded Reiner of his chaotic niece, Gabi, along with her friends, Falco and Udo and Zofia.

Like Gabi, Jean and Eren are a bunch of rowdy brats, fighting for power, and their perspectives are vastly opposites. One wants to be in a Military Police Brigade and the other wants to face the Titans alone, as if Eren’s destined to destroy every last one of the gigantic creatures.

As soon as Reiner finished his drink, he went up for a goodnight’s sleep. A soft yelp came below him. His golden eyes looked down and saw a young girl collapsed on the floor.

Abashed, Reiner held his hand outward as his height crouched down to the girl’s level.

“Sorry, little lady,” Reiner said with a smirk. “I didn’t watch where I’m going, but I didn’t mean to hurt a pretty lady like yourself.” He sent a wink at her direction.

“Th-that’s no problem,” she said, blushing, unable to return the gaze. She got up and went beside her friends, who are giggling at Reiner’s charm. One friend slapped her hand at the blushing girl’s back shoulder.

He smirked as he watched them afar until completely out of sight with a fold on his arms. Until a heavy hand fell onto Reiner’s shoulder blade.

“Remember what we came here for,” Bertholdt reminded, then moved past Reiner.

Annie hasn’t looked at Reiner’s direction, focusing in her own world.

And that Reiner’s mind recollected regarding to the real reason and obtained a lifelong achievement to an acknowledgement not only for himself but the safety of his family.

Marley.

In the land of Marley, Reiner must always remember two things: knowing one’s place, and the line of betrayal and trust must never to be cross.

~~~

Eren had the most difficult time with the gear strapped to his trousers. Shadis kept yelling at him, while the trainees snickered at his attempts to pass the test. He fell down clumsily again. Stuck like glue. Reiner, on the other hand, thought he has given enough lesson for Eren to pass with flying colors. Needless to say, today wasn’t going well in his favor.

He shouldn’t worried about Eren’s intentions, right? If he fails, he wouldn’t have an insignificance of him discovering their secret. Seeing Eren’s determination and fury against the Titans would mean one thing—revenge against who’s the main responsibility of Shiganshina’s Fall. A dead end. Reiner’s ability to shift had him on edge. Bertholdt noticed this, but said nothing; comforting and reminding Reiner in public, or even an air of whisper will cause suspicion from the outsiders of Marley.

“Wagner, give him the belt,” Shadis commanded.

“Y-yes!” Wagner complied.

By the end, Shadis concluded that Eren’s gear belt is broken. And the trainees were shocked at Eren’s ability to balance while his gear was broken and uncooperative that led him to failure in the first place. Eren went from failure to success. He’s going to defeat the Titans. Mikasa was relieved for Eren, and Armin believed in Eren. Reiner was stunned.

Eren’s revenge will proceed.

~~~

In most days, the trainees went onto the next step: using the Maneuver gear. Though this one dark day, they trained under the rain, carrying loaded bags while everyone, even Reiner, overheard Shadis shouting, lecturing over Armin’s slow pace. Reiner went over Armin’s side and slung Armin’s bag over Reiner’s shoulder. Albeit Armin retrieved it back and ran farther.

The people in training, his newfound friends, called Reiner the big brother—helpful and kind to everyone. But he wasn’t a big brother when it comes to girls’ side. He’s just as charming when he’s helping them unloading heavy items. And even encourage them during the one-on-one fight. Every girl had their hair covered their flustered eyes and smile. Each wink and touch he gave sent them flinging with squeals. Some boys were jealous because the girls they had a crush on were focused on Reiner.

Though Reiner had benefits of gaining admiration; to keep under and away from suspicions.

During supper, Eren and Jean argued again. Reiner grew tired of it. So he quickly eat his meal before bedtime. But the people before him took long to exit—filled with chatter about anything that’s unrelated to him.

Looking for another exit, he went at the right door, but cold darkness greeted him. The long night has caressed him with soft wind as he stepped out. Moonlight shone above the heavy pine wood trees. Exhaling, he watched the others saying goodnight to each other. The smoke-scent wafted through his nostrils, as he spotted the flames flickering.

Their life is different, after all. Using candles and fire and torches is an obvious, clear sign that island of Paradis is way far behind from the rest of the outside world. Hence the walls they built and buried themselves in for security and comfort from the hungry eyes and teeth from gigantic creatures.

In resolute state, Reiner marched onward onto the clear path, while pebbles crushed beneath his steps, ready to repose for tomorrow’s another course on defense.

But the noise shot nearby at his left direction. He stopped and inspected the crowded scenery. Only a few left, but all face at the opposite direction. A chance for Reiner to sneak into the forest. But with the Maneuver gear, his doom will come sooner than later. Though he entered in the forest, but not too far deep in.

Through the gusted wind, a melody entered.

Reiner was sure he wasn’t dreaming, he went in a little further, shoving the tree branches aside. A soothing melody came once more. His eyes fluttered, then shut. He took the song with him like the air he breathes. His legs numbed as he swayed.

Who’s voice was that? Reiner thought. Am I…dreaming?

“REINER!”

Behind him, the violent rustling from bushes became louder.

“What the hell are you doing there? The titans, remember? Without a defense weapon, you’d be dead!” Bertholdt lectured.

“I just thought…”

Bertholdt’s head tilted to the side. “Thought..?”

“Nothing, I thought I heard a deer coming by,” he lied.

“Everyone’s sleeping at this hour. We shouldn’t be waste anymore time than this.”

As they progressed into the clearing area, the grounds were completely empty.

“What’s up with you today?” Bertholdt scolded.

“Nothing,” Reiner replied. “Nothing at all. I’m just…bored. I don’t want to stand outside.”

Bertholdt sighed, hands behind his head. “Just don’t get carried away with the girls, alright? If you get too close to one of them, you’ll soon forget you-know-what. We’re here for one thing. And one thing only. It’s for the sake of—”

Reiner nudged Bertholdt with his elbow roughly. “Don’t say it, you idiot! People are still here! They could be hiding for all we know!”

They soon stopped at their mid-walk, found out that the boys were sneaking out from their cabins, based on their mood and direction they came from. Reiner greeted the boys goodnight before rushing into their cabins before taking a slight jog.

“Sorry, you’re not in a right mind,” Bertholdt remarked. “That’s why I’m here as your reminder. If you’re here alone, you’re doomed. And Annie won’t help you the way I did.”

Reiner’s brow twitched. “Why don’t you say that sentence to her face and see what happens?”

Bertholdt’s cool demeanor diminished. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said with his hands flailing. “Annie won’t remind you like I do. She does things in her own way—does her own kicking and whatnot.”

Reiner face forward, entering the cabins. “If you say so.”

Then he hopped inside the bed after he had taken off his shoes. In a loud groan, he said to himself, “Another day, another struggle.”

“You can do this,” Bertholdt said before blowing out the candle light and tucked himself in the sheets, already snoring and had his leg twitched.

His heart beat pumped each time he breathed aloud into the darkness. Thus, he appeased himself as his eyes fallen and his body motionless, his loud heart became softer to hear.

The sky was dark, and heard nothing but a song echoed in his dreams.

~~~

The one-on-one fight was no problem. Reiner found himself defenseless to Eren. He can fool Eren as a big and slow fighter, but when it comes to Mikasa, the role of being big and slow became real as it can be. He found himself flying and landed on top of Eren’s body.

The rest was a blur. A fight between Annie versus Mikasa. Both with great skills and their cold eyes turned against each other. This the world that Reiner is acquainted with.

~~~

The boys were crowded once they had their break from their training while Reiner and Bertholdt remain restful under the shade by the massive tree. Boys didn’t talk anything other than girls. But as soon as they mentioned girls, Reiner couldn’t bring himself to stay still as Bertholdt eventually gave up and accompanied Reiner to others.

“So what’s this about girls?” Reiner uttered.

“What’s happening?” Bertholdt’s awkwardness came through.

The boys exchanged glances with each other for a second. “There’s this girl, she’s really beautiful.”

“Her height’s too petite,” another boy said.

“And really pretty,” the third boy said.

“And gentle,” another boy commented.

“Who was it?”

“Christa Lenz,” the first boy answered. “She reminded me of a princess for some reason.”

The third boy cackled. “That’s too much of a stretch! I’d say she reminded me of a goddess to give us blessing.”

“If she were a goddess, she wouldn’t even you a look and give you a blessing without a second thought,” the second boy said.

“Hey, I’m not that hideous! It’s just the uniform that makes me feel sweaty.”

“From the sun, I hope.”

“Then you might as well join the people wanted to work in the fields instead.”

And soon fell into a laughter.

“Where is she?” Reiner asked in firm tone.

The boys all gawked at him now.

“She’s at the training grounds with Mikasa,” the first boy said.“Why?”

Reiner turned to see Bertholdt having a look at him in the eye with a silent caution.

“No reason,” Reiner replied, shrugging. “We just want to join in on the fun. We’ve been training hard for the last couple of days—my legs are getting all sore.”

“I agree,” the first boy said. “I wonder when the graduation will be. No one knows until we’re notified, right?” Then laid his hand on Reiner’s shoulder. “See you later.”

“Where are you going?” Bertholdt asked, mortified.

“To the food supplies inside Shadis’s building,” one of the boys answered.

“But we’re not allowed to be there,” the second boy scolded. “We’ll be hanged or shot if we go there. Or run laps until we’re starving.”

“Relax,” the first boy slung his arm over the second boy’s shoulder. “We’re just going to see if the potato girl is there.”

“I wonder if she’s going to run laps again,” the third boy said.

“Or not eat anything for tonight again,” the second boy added.

“Shadis really knows how to humiliate someone in front of the crowd,” the third boy said, snickering. “Remember the last time she ‘farted’?”

“Ah, who cares? As long as we have entertain, nothing else matters,” the first boy replied with a smug.

Three of the boys disappeared from Reiner and Bertholdt’s sight.

“You’re seriously not going, are you?” Beetholdt lectured.

“I’m not going to the food supplies,” Reiner replied.

In that moment, Bertholdt’s eyes went grim. The boys’s howling cackle echoed behind them. “I wasn’t talking about the food supplies.”

~~~

Down at the steepest hillside, the birds flocked near at a radiant sunset hung low between the clouds.

“Are you even listening to me, Reiner?” Bertholdt said. “If you fail, we—”

“I know, I know,” Reiner dismissed. “A little break won’t hurt.”

“I never said anything about a break. I hope you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Yes, Mother,” Reiner remarked. He looked at Bertholdt over his shoulder.

Bertholdt sighed. “You’re a Warrior, playing as a soldier. Your heart belongs to Marley. Nowhere else.”

“Keep it down,” Reiner warned. “We’re almost there at the training grounds! We’re about to see them soon enough.”

Unimpressed, Bertholdt said, “It’s only Mikasa and Christa.”

Reiner’s lips curved. “Exactly.”

Bertholdt scratched his head. “You like Mikasa, too?”

Reiner shuddered back. “There’s no way I like Mikasa that way. Not in a million years. If anything, I’m glad she likes Eren more. I wouldn’t even let her near to anywhere near me or my bed.”

Bertholdt’s hand slammed against his face. “You—uh!” He slapped his face again. “You never change. Though you aren’t slacking from your mission at the start, so I suppose you need a break.”

Reiner’s head snapped with his ears perked up and his eyes twinkled. “Really?”

His friend’s shoulders sagged. “Do what you want as long as it doesn’t hurt the mission.”

“Speaking of mission, where’s Annie?”

“She should be with the others. But if not, I wouldn’t be surprised of her having some alone time. She sticks with us for so long she might be tired of looking at the same faces.”

His shoulders shrugged. “Guess so,” Reiner said.

Bertholdt screamed.

“What, is there a bug on you or SOMETHING?!”

Both boys jumped and fell altogether at the sight of glaring Annie.

“We’re here on this island, and you boys are surprisingly well-guarded,” Annie stated with her arms crossed. “Interesting progress. Is that how you boys trained nowadays?”

“We haven’t seen you,” Bertholdt said, clearing his throat. “For a while now. His face is smeared with blush once he hoisted himself. “Hi, Annie.”

Reiner smacked himself in the face. Of course he wouldn’t erase the fact that Bertholdt likes her.

Without giving a second glance, Annie walked ahead, approaching downward at the training grounds.

“Was there a reason you want to be at the training grounds?”

Bertholdt scratched his cheek. “Well, that’s—”

“If you’re here for training, we could use an extra hand,” Reiner answered.

Scoffing, Annie’s hair flipped over to the side. “What are you saying? You’ve been training long and hard since when you were a child.”

“She has a point,” Bertholdt supported.

“Maybe, but it doesn’t mean we’re slacking off. We’re here, training as them. We just need more time for more preparation. I’d be frightened if we keep ourselves down. We’d be dead in the ditch. As much as I hate to say this, but, one of these days we’re going to betray them someday. If someone finds out our true intentions, I’d rather be…be…”

“Be?” she said, her eyes unblinking.

Waiting.

“Brave,” the blond said. “Rather than be shameful.”

All of them stayed quiet.

“I agree,” Bertholdt said. “We have to be brave. We all have to, if it comes to that.” He patted his hand over Reiner’s back. “Don’t stress yourself. We’ll deal with it if we have to.”

Reiner dipped his head as an acknowledgment in return.

“It’s settled then,” Annie said in quiet determination.

Soon they met up with Mikasa, who was helping with Christa with defense mechanism with wooden weapons—all kinds. So far it has been going accordingly. But Eren was beaten badly, so badly Armin stitched Eren up, watching them from the sidelines.

“It hurts,” Eren whined.

“You should probably learn a thing or two from Mikasa’s skill,” Armin suggested with a faint, encouraged smile. “At any rate, you should start. It’s better to be beaten up than to be disarm by the Titans.”

“He’s right, you know,” Reiner intruded.

“Reiner,” Eren grinned, stretching from ear to ear.

“Don’t mean to pry, but, you’ve beaten down, only this time it’s Mikasa, and not the maneuver. Still, I don’t get what’s the point of fighting against people.”

“Beats me,” Eren responded. “Besides, it’s better to have knowledge than nothing.”

Then the boys overheard Mikasa’s harsh, but soft tone.

“Wrong,” she said, watching Christa, who was out of breath, ready to fall. “Your hands and arms need to be in a correct form when performing an attack. And your legs and feet need to be balanced—don’t step on a wrong foot.”

Reiner’s brows furrowed, eyes squinting.

Eren and Armin leaned forward, studying Reiner closely. “Something the matter, Reiner?” Eren spoke.

“She’s too harsh,” Reiner said. “Not everyone can be like Mikasa.”

Armin gulped. “True, but…”

“Was she always like this?”

“To who?”

“Everyone.”

“She’s always been like this, even before the Shinganshina’s fall. Why?”

Reiner noticed Armin gave him watchful eyes—curious, no doubt, but watchful.

“No reason,” he said to Armin. “She threw me across the field, remember?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me of that,” Eren intruded.

He went to Christa once she’s dismissed by Mikasa. Reiner knelt down before her, and offered his hand for her to grip. She’s indeed beautiful, no doubt. Petite height as he got closer to her, her watching him with frightful expression.

So gentle and fragile. Too perfect for the unjust world.

“Are you okay?” he questioned.

“I’m…” she cleared her throat. “I’m okay. I wasn’t seriously hurt. Mikasa did what she had to.”

Reiner chuckled. “That’s quite alright. Here, I’ll help you.”

Before Christa could touch Reiner’s hand, another hand showed up, splitting the concentrated mood. Both gazed at Ymir, a tall girl with brown hair with freckles, adorned with a scowl.

“I can take Christa from here, if you don’t mind,” she seethed, and carried Christa in her arms, fading into the sunset’s light.

“Wow,” is all Eren said.

~~~

He hasn’t seen Christa since midday. He supposed that Ymir has taken a certain liking to her. If Reiner crossed the line with temptation, things will ugly with Ymir. She had no doubt to report him if she discovers of his Titan form. With that, he decided not to pursue for Christa’s reciprocation.

Often so, his mind changes whenever there’s love and affection. But with Christa, he felt enamored, like the walls had broken down on him. Shaking it off, he cast his feelings aside.

After that, they went back to their cabins, but just before long, he heard the melody in the wind again. Suddenly, he had forgotten about Christa and the girls he flirted.

There it is again. The melody arises. The voice carried again into the wind and whispered in his ears.

Without consciousness, he followed the sound into the woods once more.

He never once heard sounded so unearthly and beautiful. The song felt real—resonated and clutched him in the heart.

When he finally reached into the forest’s center, and there she was singing, lying underneath the green grass, facing away from the moonlight, surrounded by fresh oblong leaflets and forget-me-nots, wearing her white nightgown reached up to her feet and her white puffed sleeves adorned her flawless skin. Her long manes splayed against the ground.

Reiner stopped himself. He couldn’t see her face. One wrong move, she’ll stop singing. He was no fool. Yet he was; he has no weapon with him.

Should I tell her? Should I not and stay here and watch?

As he was about elevate his foot, the twig crunched. You stopped singing, exhaled a soft gasp, promptly rose forward with her back turned.

“Who’s there?” you demanded.

Crisp leaves rustling as the cool air embedded onto your skin.

He heard your voice, saying, “Don’t come any closer.”

Anyone who would see you in this state will get in trouble. You’re defenseless, broke a curfew, and alone, no less. You needed a bit of guidance to help you for self-protection. Though he had closer inspection on you; you held a pocket knife.

“It’s not safe here,” he said aloud. “Head back to the cabins.”

“I hate it there,” you said. “I have to forget the militia life, even just for a moment.” You successfully hid behind the thick tree without relying on navigating your footsteps.

Reiner sauntered in careful pace. “Trust me, anywhere is safer than these woods. Titans lurk these parts every night.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“There’s nothing wrong with help,” he said, stepping closer to a thick tree she concealed herself with.

“You don’t have to show your face to me,” he said. “Come out, and I’ll help you.”

His ears caught your gentle sighs.

Surrendered, you walked backwards and shortly felt his hands rest atop your shoulders.

“You can trust me,” he said, ironically.

Pausing, Reiner felt you shivering under his touch. Reiner pulled his jacket out and placed it above your head.

Trust me, he said.

Underneath the jacket, he saw the shy glint your eyes. Although he’s joyous, his shadow nearly covered up your entire face.

“Don’t worry, I’m here,” he whispered aloud.

Both of you and Reiner giggled in relief.

A deep groan sounded through the trees, and there, the titan appeared. Reiner took your hand and ran as fast as he could, making way towards the cabins. The titan chased them, and your panic rises. Reiner appeased you as he retraced his steps to which direction he entered from. With the trees swayed violently and the birds flew, they knew they’re in deep trouble.

It took them long enough to reach the exit, and the scouts were alerted at the Titan’s heavy stomps. From there, the Titan has been annihilated, Reiner had his arms around you the whole time. When Commander Shadis saw what’s occurring, Reiner knew you and him in deep trouble.

Shadis spared no time to scold Reiner and you.

“What the hell are you doing in the forest? Didn’t I say that you are prohibited to stepped over into the woods?! Not only you left yourselves defenseless, but you also chose to be a Titan meal!”

Reiner’s neck slightly bowed. “We apologize, sir.”

“Apologies are unacceptable. For one week, you two will be in the stable duty for your disobedience and your incompetent performance! Until then, you’ll have to train harder and faster. I expect you won’t make the same mistake again!”

“Understood, sir,” Reiner complied as you softly said, “I understand.”

Even your head is tucked, Commander Shadis looked at you as an insufferable insect. Perhaps this is what calls a duty, or a certain care in order for you to be prepared for the events like this to make sure you don’t fail. Though it didn’t stop there.

“Go back to your cabins and get up early. You two will be doing duty as a soldier. But at night, you better damn well know how to handle the stables. Dismissed!”

~~~

“I’m sorry I acted stupid. I’ll make sure it won’t happen again,” you said in a fainted tone.

Reiner watched you in sadness. “Don’t be. A mistake can be fixed.”

He watched you halting your tracks and give him back his jacket. “Thank you.”

He chuckled, his golden eyes are shut. “No problem. If you need any help, you come to me.”

“I will,” you responded with bliss. As you took the first step on the wooden staircase leading up to your assigned cabin, Reiner grabbed your wrist and watched you turned around, but only your manes shielded your entire visage.

“Goodnight,” he said. And left, leaving you wondering.

~~~

Everything was perfectly usual in broad daylight, but everyone knew what occurred with Reiner. Everyone asked Reiner of the details, but he delivered none, saying that he wanted to stroll because he was bored. For Bertholdt and Annie, their reactions had made things difficult. Reiner has to keep up with a good image, otherwise, it’ll be stained. Then he thought about you, wondering if anyone asked.

Reiner wanted to see you again. Thankfully, Shadis both punished you and him. After the training and the exam sessions, Reiner paid you a visit in the cabins, but instead the girls he randomly once flirted were there.

“Reiner,” the girls were calling out to him, reaching down the steps to meet him.

“I hope you’re doing okay. That titan is unbelievably stupid,” the first girl said.

“Who are you looking for?” another girl asked.

“Have you seen Annie?” he said, lying.

“Annie isn’t here,” the third girl said. “Why? You need something from her?”

Reiner shook his head. “Suddenly I forgot what to say to her.”

“We’ll relay a message to her, if you want,” fourth girl insisted.

He settled a dismissal wave. “No need. I can say it to her myself.”

“We’re entirely familiar with Annie, but she looked scary,” the first girl commented.

Though Reiner ignored her careless remark and said his goodbye before he left to search for you.

The heat in his chest felt tighter as he goes farther to meet you. He felt unsure for a moment until the melody came.

His heart danced with relief as he followed the sound of your voice from the grounds to the stables. He went inside first, then as the melody grew louder, he went at the back of the stables, and behind the fence, Reiner saw you admiring the flowers nearby under the midday light as your lips tugged into a smile beneath a long cloak of hair. As you stood up, your eyes met his; your humming stopped. In a moment of abate, Reiner watched you. The cool breeze unveiled your face, still standing far apart. Reiner gripped his hand on the white fence as the sheepish look in your eyes weren’t there, replaced with a spark of confidence and familiarity, filled with spry and beauty basked under the afternoon sun. Like an angel basked in radiant sun.

Little did he know, Reiner found himself smitten in the hands of an Eldian.

Taglist: @colored-tr-panels @galactict3a @slay0368

#reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #reiner x y/n #reiner smut #snk reiner #snk x reader #aot x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot #snk #attack on titan reiner #aot reiner #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #smut #fluff #angst #reiner x you #aot smut #snk fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #reiner ​aot #fic #anime fanfic #snk smut #attack on titan

[hikari3601]

Your Shirt or Mine?

Anon: Hello! May I request Diluc, Thoma and Childe with a female reader who crossdresses? They just prefer dressing like a male and don't really care how people perceive them? (Terms would usually be like tr*p but I don't feel comfy seeing it in that sort of way)

Home page

Pairing | Diluc/Thoma/Tartaglia x Fem!Reader (separate)

Author’s Note | Hope this is alright, I'm so sorry for the mix up and delay

Warning | People not minding their own business

Secretly feels warm and fuzzy whenever he sees you pairing one of his shirts with some of your outfits.

Thinks you look absolutely hot in men's clothing and it would be a lie if he were to deny looking into the male fashion industry in Mondstadt for future investment just for you because why the hell not?

There have been a handful of drunk patrons at the tavern who - in their minds, believe that you are deserving an earful during your shifts, but Diluc is quick to point out their foolishness and ban them from Angel's share.

“I understand that being intoxicated hinders one's ability to remain logical but I should warn you to be mindful of your actions under my roof regardless of your insobriety.”

Finds the hottest deals in your size whenever he happens to pass the shopping district. Change my mind.

I think Thoma would always be on the lookout for outfits he thinks you'd like. Of course he also has a few suggestions of his own.

He definitely tried getting you a similar pair of shoes to his, but he honestly sees where you're coming from in terms of clothing. I mean, woman's sizing is a scary thing not to mention those fake pockets. Plus, he wholeheartedly believes that men's clothing suits you well too.

There have been a few cases of random strangers approaching you with ill intentions but Thoma’s quite quick to defuse the situation. Pretty sure he’d be the nicest one out of the three.

"Oh y/n! I'm glad I got the chance to bump into you, there's a place in Ritou that opened recently. Why don't we take a look the next time you're free? I think you'll really like what they have in store.

His coats and shirts are yours for the taking. It’s a complete win-win situation. You get to wear cosy winter coats and some really stylish dress shirts, he gets the opportunity to be embraced by your wonderful scent whenever he wears his clothes. An equal exchange in your eyes, yet for him, it's absolute heaven.

When people started noticing this habit, few felt inclined to rain on your parade, but of course Ed Sheeran Tartaglia leveraged his authority and the rest is history including them.

“You're going out? You'll catch a cold in no time. Here, take my coat with you.” He’s definitely not insisting because he’s taking that specific coat with him to Snezhnaya next week.

#🍁.content book #🍁.req #🍁.multi #genshin impact #genshin fic #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #genshin #childe x reader #tartagalia x reader #thoma x reader #diluc x reader

[oceanlipgloss]

5.1.2024

—nsfw

Time for dessert with Paimon lol the scene says "I can see you blushing wherever I look" and that sounds so appealing I tell you

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ´ˎ˗

intro: this is unrelated to the H-scene, but no more images fit in my previous entry and OH MY GOD BELIAL. MC GETS TO MEET HIM NOW! I WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO THAT SO MUCH AAAAH And. Did Jjyu just call Bimet. A poop? ROFL well if he insists, how about solid gold poop nah I like Bimet a biiit too much don't even think about it Jjyu he does deserve the insult tho ngl

update I: I really appreciate MC being considerate and trying not to worry the others. Also, when I think about Sitri's H-scene I go to heaven ascend more please and his "don't worry. I can help" just now made my heart flutter so much lmao Paimon being worried, too? <3

update II: it's the subtle shit that shoots me in the heart wooooo

update III: yeah! besties help each other

update IV: roll with it, girl. He's gonna do you in a few anyways, so I'd say him calling you his bestie should be the least of your, um, 'problems'

update V: he feeds my nonexistent hope only to starve it again. I'm going to treat myself to his H-scene again soon. It's perfect in every way, food for my heart pun fully intended and I wish there was more because my god

update VI: lol Paimon quickly catching on to the meaning behind Sitri's 'I can help' and insisting to rain on his parade? Everyone has to get a turn but still, pls Sitri for the main course, Zagan for dessert and Satan for breakfast

update VII: oooooh, something new this time

update VIII: oh my. Mirrors. It's full of mirrors. Meaning he'll be able to see MC in every single mirror as he rails her, so no matter where he looks, he'll see her blushing, like the quote says. Nice thinking, Paimon lol

update IX: oh yeahhh there's going to be more 'steps' this time. You better undress EACH OTHER this is exciting

update X: 'play,' you say, eh?

update XI: one word: YES

update XII: I see. I really see. Uh-huh. I can read his mind

update XIII: fucking hell, it's already lunchtime! The subtle stuff, it's always the subtle stuff

update XIV: he's behaving the total opposite of his appearance skjbkebsjf like 'you WILL look at the mirror and you WILL see what I'm going to do to you' mhm

update XV: dear Lord the mere concept of it. Exquisite have a gold star

update XVI: YEAHHHH

update XVII: MC gets it. This is what I was talking about in my other post ugh yaaaas

update XVIII: no but him telling her what to do? "Place your hands on the wall" GODDAMMIT PAIMON YES

update XIX: rockin' yours truly is vibing with this

update XX: holy mother of— his arms and thighs, yo

update XXI: even MC is like holy cow this is unreal but I'm like girl, say that to porn. THIS, ON THE OTHER HAND? THIS IS ARTISTIC But WHERE IS THE BLOOD??? WE NEED PAINT

update XXII: good stuff munch munch

update XXIII: that last part? Paimon taking a mirror, throwing it on the ground and ordering MC to gaze down at it? Then MC nutting falling apart because of that? YUP.

update XXIV: compensating for lack of blood with fluff isn't a substitute for ketchup quite enough, but this was really nice, so...the fluff, here it comes!

update XXV: leave it to MC to end things with a bang

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ´ˎ˗

6.1.2024

+note: this was really good. I was, however, expecting there to be blood. I do understand the reasons for staying on the safe side, but honestly, it's sad and unfortunate that this avoidance has to be practiced when the game itself is founded on dark and unusual themes—that alone should be a pass for unorthodox things to be injected into it. Including Paimon's Haematophilia would've sprinkled extra spice and given an even more unique dash to this scene. The sheer contrast with his sweet appearance would've truly been a cherry on top.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ´ˎ˗

edit 1: well guys, guess what! It's time for one of THOSE battles again. You know, 3-48 with those screeching angels how tf is something so horrendous an angel and the spike-shitting ones! I said it was coming, didn't I? So woohoo, I was right got stuck again I expected this to happen after the H-scene tbh, the battles were much too easy IMMA HOPEFULLY PASS WITH THAT SINGLE L CARD OF MINE THO maybe not because I refuse to spend my lesser keys just yet, so let's see how many days it'll take me to pluck some feathers this time (update 2: this girl definitely isn't passing with her one L card)

edit 2: dude this battle is hellish difficult FR (update 1: I take that back. It's hardcore+) so for now DOWN WE GO AND DEFEAT IT IS, BOYS pffft (update 3: I just promoted Satan's card for the last time *coolly crosses fingers* but tell you what, everyone other than Satan is quickly skipping to the other side Satan isn't gonna be of much help on his own) (7.1.2024, update 4: you're telling me there's one more promotion to get to level 90? Lmfao hell nah bro I'm not doing it. Noooooooo)

edit 3: OMFG I— This is irrelevant to what I was talking about but it's memorable asf lol so, I was shuffling through the characters I have and scrolling their opinion sections. I once again found myself thinking that Gusion is hot because goddamn, he really is. Anyways, in his section someone wrote, "him asking me 'what's 1000-7?' while railing me" and I'm gonna break into a dance because IT'S A TOKYO GHOUL REFERENCE AND AS A HUGE TOKYO GHOUL FAN THE CONTEXT OF IT IS KILLING ME LMAO Whoever is behind that comment, you've got big brains. You deserve 1000 stickers. Gusion would love you lol and most importantly, your idea is making me feel things I can't wait for MC to meet him I also predict that his H-scene will be BOMB

8.1.2024

edit 4: I PASSED. OH MY GOD. I PASSED. I DON'T BELIEVE IT. BARBATOS, ASTAROTH, PPYONG, MY SAVIOURS! YOU PROTECTED SATAN AND SAVED ME! Let me mention what happened, though, because my God. The third time was the charm in this case. After try upon try, I almost won, but then Satan died, so no can do. That was near-win number one. On my second almost-victory, I had 2 angels left but they were the screaming ones—I had two remaining hearts, so I was was just about to either move Satan and use his Ultimate attack or let one of them pass but guess what? NO MORE MOVES! Satan's HP was near zero so he goes *poof* and I lose with hope because WE CAN ALL SEVEN OF US KICK BUTT AS WE ARE AFTER ALL! The third time, though? Rattle 'em, boys we got it in the bag! Anyways, I'm elated. TIME TO CONTINUE THE STORY and perhaps not celebrate just yet, because I'm certain more battles like this one are on the way. But wow, it really did take three days this time too!

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ´ˎ˗

update XXVI: ugh he can't help it <3

update XXVII: I'm sorry, but...SMELLY FLY? Pffff

update XXVIII: Jjyu's insults are weird asf lol I mean, 'you're worse than a pill bug' and 'you're like spittle'? lmao

update XXIX: It's heartbreaking and unjust that devils have lost a lot because of angels. Belial lost his voice, Andre lost his family and friends...it's so sad and unjust. And the fact that Belial spoke on his own when he thought MC was Solomon is so sweet and touching. There's so much meaning and emotion behind this gesture.

update XXX: excuse me while I obsess over the fact that he has to have his hands on her or be near her somehow

update XXXI: this is truly so sweet. And Belial seems to be very gentle and get emotional quite easily. I love that so much

update XXXII: what the angels are doing is monstrous. What the hell

update XXXIII: when someone is as anguished as this, nothing can truly comfort them, but he really deserves a long, silent hug until his tears just start to fall and some of the pain gets out

update XXXIV: thank you for being kind to him, MC <3

update XXXV: he's so hurt and heartbroken. I feel so sad for him

update XXXVI: it seems that I've already put 30 images, so I can't add more, but Belial thanking MC for acknowledging his sadness, and Jjyu immediately following after with "you bedwetter!" is hilariously smart lol because come on, he is NOT wrong she IS a bedwetter, just not in the sense he means

update XXXVII: now it's Bimet's turn to add a light touch to this emotional scene, apparently, because MC and Belial are both crying, Belial is wiping MC's tears (he's so sweet, I love him so much already) MC, you should wipe his tears too and cue Bimet coming in with "I can't see through my tears. Condolence money pls :(" lol I adore him

update XXXVIII: lmao everyone is thinking about how vile Bimet is and is glaring daggers at him. Meanwhile, Mammon is just *proud* like 'THAT'S MY RIGHT-HAND MAN, EVERYONE!'

update XXXIX: Sitri, my sweet...sometimes, only sometimes, the one thing you seem to hear well is heartbeats. Satan probably got a sore throat because of how often he's told others that MC is Solomon's daughter and not Solomon himself, yet you still insist that she is indeed Rika? Solomon I GET THAT YOU MISS HIM A BUNCH BUT PLEASE, SITRI, LISTENNN And now, look at this man as he scolds Ppyong for 'saying that Belial is dead' when all the poor marshmallow ever did was repeat again and again that BELIAL IS NOT DEAD never worry, though, Sitri, for I still love you to bits

#what in hell is bad diaries #what in “hell” is bad #what in hell is bad #whb #whb paimon

[sadberrystuff]

WHOO BOY DO I HAVE SMTH TO SAY ABOUT THE COFFEE THEORY (GO2 SPOILERS lol)

I am a believer in the Coffee Theory. Do I hate Azi? Couldn’t if I was at gunpoint. Do I blame him? Absolutely not. Do I think he’s brainwashed and totally out of control? Nope. Do I think he still is conscious and making decisions based on religious trauma and his heavenly conscience? Yup.

Now, there’s two things I think will happen, and I’m just gonna call em the Basic Path and the Raine Path, and I’ll explain why.

On the Basic Path, pretty much the entire Coffee Theory is true. The Metatron used a combination of miracles and/or almonds (which some speculate have the ability to brainwash) to control Aziraphale and manipulate him into betraying Crowley. I STRONGLY believe that Azi’s words and actions during the final scene were just a smidge to OOC. Not entirely OOC, but odd enough to suggest that he’s being influenced. He just acted too damn cold for someone who was so warm and excited to get away for a moment with Crowley, dance with him, party with him. He turned him away, straight up said “there’s nothing more to say” and let him go.

So I raise you: The Metatron wants Crowley. He’s likely willing to use Azi either as a bargaining force, or if needed, as bait. He’s seen them, and he knows that Crowley depends on Azi to live. He probably knows that sometime soon, Crowley will run back to Azi and apologize and try to mend things, despite his attempts to forget him. God knows what the Metatron could want with him, but as he had security clearance in Heaven and was important enough to be given the gift of creation, I think it’s fair to assume that Crowley was very, very powerful as an Angel. And whatever the Metatron wants won’t be good.

That brings me to the Raine Theory. Y’all TOH fans (I see you depressed gay weirdos) know what I’m about to propose. AZI IS FAKING IT. You can’t tell me with a straight face that him acting off doesn’t feel like Follies at the Coven Day Parade at least a little. So what if The Metatron DID miracle the coffee to be able to control him (maybe if he had miracled Azi directly it would have caused problems so he had to do it indirectly) but Azi used one of those miracle cancelling slips? He’s already demonstrated a great amount of skill in misdirection and even saved his own ass by swapping papers via magic. That last look that Azi has, the solemn and tearful look with his fingers pressed to his lips, screams “I wish I could have returned it”. He looks hopeful and determined in the elevator. He may be convinced that he’s saving Crowley, or that he’ll take down the Metatron with the help of inside forces. And Crowley is probably *sigh* going to intervene and try to help.

I don’t think it’s fair to outright dismiss the Coffee Theory, nor is it fair to outright dismiss Aziraphale’s actions as OOC, because they were heartfelt and followed his moral code. I just wanted to throw my opinion in the fray because I’m REALLY hoping for the Raine Theory to pull through because I can’t get enough of the faking-being-hypnotized trope

#go2 #go2 spoilers #go 2 speculation #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #coffee theory #good omens #good omens theory #just brain dumping #dont mind my rambling #toh #raine whispers #sorry I’m a nerd

[ali-r3n]

Take Five

Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Eddie has an Upside Down induced panic attack during a performance with Corroded Coffin

Based on this idea that I sent to @jadeylovesmarvelxo check out their story

Hurt/Comfort and Fluff

Eddie's fingers fumbled on the strings of his guitar as he played Master of Puppets with his band.

"Are you sure that you want to add that to the set list?" Y/N asked cuddled with her Metalhead boyfriend as he prepared for a show.

Since the events of Vecna, the Upside Down, and his near death experience with the Demobats, the group managed to go back to their somewhat usual lives. Eddie's band, Corroded Coffin, had started to develop a decent following and was able to afford performing at bigger venues than just the Hideout. Y/N was so proud of them, but she wasn't sure he was ready to revisit the song that he used as a distraction that fateful night.

He nodded. "Yeah. It'll be fine."

She didn't look convinced, but she dropped the conversation. The last thing she wanted was to rain on her beloved boyfriend's parade.

Cold sweat beaded on his skin as his chest felt tight. The crowd faded and was replaced with the darkness of the Upside Down.

His bandmates yelling his name and the crowd's confused murmurs fell on deaf ears, replaced with the screeching of Demobats.

Y/N noticed the far off look on his face from where she stood in the wings. Without hesitation, sh ran on stage to him. She cupped his pale, clammy face and ran her thumbs over the apples.

"Eddie, Baby. You're okay. You're safe. You're not in that place anymore, Baby. Come back to me, Eddie."

"Y-Y/N," he whimpered.

"I'm here."

"I can't breathe."

She took one of his ringed hands and placed it onto her chest.

"Its okay, Honey. Just breathe with me, okay?"

He nodded.

"Ready? One, Two, Three...Breathe in." She inhaled deeply which he mirrored. "One, Two, Three...Breathe out." She exhaled, he exhaled. "Again."

They repeated the process until the tightness in his chest eased and he calmed down. He closed his eyes which welled with tears. He ducked his head and buried his face into her shoulder. She hugged him and ran her fingers through his hair.

Eddie sniffled. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Baby," she reassured. "Do you want to keep going or take a break?"

"A break. I-I need a break."

"Okay." She looked over at his Bassist and mouthed 'take five'

He nodded and announced it to the audience as she led Eddie off the stage.

Eddie took a seat on the couch in the green room. He covered his face with his hands and doubled over.

Y/N grabbed a bottle of water for him and walked over to sit beside him.

"Fuck!" he groaned, his voice muffled by his palm. "It's been a year. I should be over this by now."

She placed a hand on his back and rubbed it to help comfort him.

"Eddie, there's no timeline for it. Healing isn't a race. Its a marathon."

He moved his hands and clasped them in his lap. "You don't think it makes me weak?"

"No Eddie. I think you are so strong. You are still your lovable, goofy, nerdy self while dealing with something so traumatic."

He swallowed past the lump in his throat and looked over at her with wet eyes. "I don't feel strong."

"That's okay. You don't have to. Its okay to not be okay."

He curled into her and rested his head on her chest. Her steady heart beat comforting to me. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"I love you, Sweetheart."

Y/N pressed a kiss to his hair.

"I love you too, Ed."

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

Eddie Munson Taglist:

@seros-bitch @eddiemunsons-girl @m-i-1-0 @lunar-flwr @winchester-angel @angelbbygrl @madnessismylover @cherrybean1116 @edwardjamesmunson @3ternalreal1ty

@meaganjm @sweetpeapod @eddiemunsonsfavbitch @fangirling-4-ever @zzokks @mattymurdocksbitch @fillechatoyante @luvbug4728 @doll-in-the-walls @ches-86 @shenevertricks1831 @urlocalhippie2029 @celestair @ruinedbythehobbit @purple-storm

@sarai-ibn-la-ahad @livslifeonline

Stranger Things Taglist:

@valeriiecameron @maruushkka @rainbows-dreams @april-foolish

Stranger Things (Billy excluded) Taglist;

@sleepyhead1456

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things angst #stranger things fluff #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x female!reader #stranger things x female reader #stranger things x fem!reader #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson fix it fics #stranger things hurt/comfort