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arieslost · 11 days

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ok i don’t know if it’s just me who gets really giggly when it’s late at night but imagine laying in bed with lando and you’re just rambling about smth so stupid that it ends with you two just giggling at nothing. like getting full on stomach cramps from laughing but there wasn’t even anything funny to begin with

anon u and i are the SAME! once its past midnight i always end up becoming a victim of the late night sillies 💔

1:30 am | ln4

you knew you were up too late when you nearly tripped over the loose edge of the blanket you and lando had been sharing on your way back to the couch, and when he had caught you before you could hit your head or anything, you started laughing.

“oh, no,” he’d groaned dramatically. “got the late night giggles already, huh?”

“uh-uh,” you shook your head, even though him saying the words “late night giggles” was enough to make laughter start bubbling up in your throat again.

something always shifted in you when the clock struck a certain hour at night, and lando had only been witness to it a handful of times before you moved in together.

now, you’d managed to get through the rest of the movie the two of you were watching without laughing, even if it meant biting your lip hard and refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend. it was bad enough feeling his eyes on you every time he wanted to see your reaction to something that happened on the tv. making eye contact would just take you out entirely for no reason whatsoever.

which is why you think you’ve successfully avoided making a fool of yourself when you’re both finally laying in bed with the lights out at the fine hour of 1:30 in the morning.

“you’re so far away,” lando grumbles, dragging your body into his so his one arm is around your shoulders and your face is nestled in his neck.

“better?” you ask, smiling when he shivers as your lips brush his skin.

“mhmm.” he’s quiet for a moment, running his fingers up and down your arm. “you’re gonna come to miami, right?”

“yeah, if you want me to.”

“what kind of question is that, babe?” he cranes his neck in a way that tells you he’s fixing you with a judgy look even though you can’t see each other.

you shrug, feeling the giggles building up again for no reason whatsoever. “i dunno.”

“obviously i want you there, why wouldn’t i?”

“i dunno,” you repeat. “it’s miami. maybe you just wanna party with all your homies.” and just like that, you’re laughing again.

“oh dear god, here we go,” he sighs, pressing his lips together to repress his own laughter as your body shakes against his. “my homies? when have i ever referred to any of my mates as my ‘homie’?”

he sounds so incredulous that you laugh even harder. “oh, you’re so british! i can’t call them your mates, lan. it sounds too weird.”

“so homies is the word you went with? why can’t you be normal and just say my friends?”

“why can’t you be normal and say your friends?” you shoot back, and that does lando in.

“it’s not funny,” he tries to admonish, and it’s entirely true, but it’s a moot point when you can barely understand him through his laughter.

“stop laughing then!”

“you stop!”

naturally, that makes you both laugh harder still, to the point where you have to roll away from him, clutching your stomach from how badly all the laughing is making it hurt.

“i can’t breathe,” lando gasps from behind you.

“stop laughing,” you repeat. “you’re killing me.”

“i think i’m dying,” he continues like he didn’t hear you, and he honestly might not have because your face is half shoved into your pillow in your attempts to stifle yourself.

a few more minutes go by of the two of you absolutely losing your minds before you’re finally able to catch your breath.

“ow,” you whine, holding your stomach. “i think i just grew a six pack.”

“i think mine just became ten times more defined,” lando says, voice raspy from all the exertion on his vocal chords.

“ooh, lemme feel.”

“absolutely not, because you’re going to tickle me,” he grabs your wrist out of thin air. “i know your tricks, baby. i’ve laughed more than enough tonight thanks to you.”

“not my fault you’re weird and british.”

“i love you,” he says sweetly, pulling you back towards him and kissing your forehead. “now’s where you say, ‘i love you too.’”

“i love you too,” you reply dutifully, blindly reaching for his face so you can kiss him properly. “even though you’re weird and british.”

he kisses you again. “i thought it was especially because i’m weird and british.”

you snuggle into his side, now thoroughly exhausted. “please don’t make me laugh more, lan.”

you both know he’s right, of course, but you usually need to have the last word, so he lets you get away with it. he does love you, after all, even though you had him in stitches over nothing at 1:30 in the morning.

word count: 790

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: this was sooo self indulgent, like i was laughing as i wrote this because the term “homies” is so silly to me for some reason. also helped me test my dialogue skills!! n e wayz…

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo

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sillylittlejesterman · 1 year

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I HAVE TO MAKE A FUNNY SLIDE SHOW BUT HOW THE HELL DO I ONE UP LAST YEARS FNAF SLIDE SHOW

IT HAD SOUND EFFECTS HOW DO I DO IT ITS FOR TOMMORROW HEIJRBJNKWESFNASDJKNKJ HELP

#im slowly losing my mind please for the love of god the fnaf slideshow was so funny #fnaf #goncharov #i was gonna do goncharov cause goncharov its for a film groud #AM I EVEN FUNNY HELP #screams sobs and cries i am losing my mind

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chibelial · 1 year

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#these posts are gonna be my entire blog soon sorry fellas #why doesn’t she hate me?#I must be being led on because what do I have that could entrance her like #I’m funny and I’m probably nicer to her than most cuz most people don’t even try to learn her name they just wanna fuck her once and leave #they think she’s just some stupid thing and she’s not her mind is just #idk I adore it #except when it doubts me but I’ll reassure her as much as I have to #she’s so beautiful inside how could you want to just one night stand her or finish things after 1 go #I want to cherish her and find her limits and own her and fill her with all the pain I’ve ever felt because she can take it and she’ll feel #it with me and it’ll all make sense finally #how am I even gonna get to her i need to see her so badly #I need to disappear into the big hole inside her I want her depravity to neastle inside me #and just burn out and weakness that’s still there if I’m not ruined yet she’s gonna take me there #I’ll lose myself in breaking her and there will be no turning back #I want her more than anything and I shouldn’t even have her #I’m a total loser with no future no career and I’m terrified of life she’s wasting her time on me #it’s selfish of me to continue its time she could spend with someone who’s actually worth something #I don’t deserve anybody idk what I’ll do when she opens her eyes and thinks wow I wasted how much time talking to a literal husk of a person #she says she worships me says she’s obsessed with me #it’s like I have worth for once I want to be everything in her eyes #I want her to love me and fear me and lean on me whenever she needs #she has to be mine she’s too perfect for me to lose but I have no way of holding onto her all I have are my words right now #I csnt travel to her I can’t support her very well I have nothing I just can’t think about losing her #she actually sees something in me I don’t think she’s just using me for fun like the others #wtf do I do how did I win over this woman I expected to be toyed with for a day or two and like hated the whole time #she needs more than me #I’m just a bundle of broken memories that manifest as panic attacks #that’s all I am I’m nothing

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devotedlystrangewizard · 1 year

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you know the lore is good when it has you throwing your phone across the room like a good fluff fanfic would

#'you are enough.' I AM LOSING MY MIND OVER HERE ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY ANYMORE #im reading through ishtar bc. i dont have destiny installed.#which really elevates the fanfic feel. tbh #im not crying what

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sirfrogsworth · 10 months

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These folks watched a whole ass movie not realizing the main character was transgender and it was a 2 second kiss between men that made them lose their ever-loving minds.

It's amazing to me that if it weren't for those 2 seconds, many of these folks would have given this movie a 4 or 5 star review. But two seconds of the most vanilla, non-sexy, yet genuine and loving kiss somehow ruined every moment of enjoyment the previous 90 minutes brought them.

Imagine if they realized the trans allegory. I wish I had a way to tell them. I wish I had a way to make them realize they related to a trans character. That they rooted for them. That they accidentally empathized with a trans story.

This was a beautiful movie. In every sense. I really hope between this and Spider-Verse, we can have a moratorium on every 3D animated movie using this style of character design.

It's time to let go of the rubber toy look.

I love Toy Story, but its success kind of doomed 3D animation to never take any risks. I thought maybe it was just a limitation of the medium, and perhaps it was for a time... but after seeing Love Death + Robots and Arcane...

I realized they can make 3D animation look however the hell they want now.

The rubber people were just risk avoidance.

"That's what people are used to and so we're sticking with it."

But the real beauty of Nimona was the story. I won't spoil it but the plot is pretty much, "If you get to know a trans person, you probably won't hate them anymore."

Not knowing any trans people is one of the biggest factors in anti-trans bigotry. And so this movie uses allegory to let an audience get to know a trans person. And you get to experience someone slowly start to understand what it is to be trans from an outside perspective.

It's sad that will probably be lost on those folks above because all they will remember is the kiss. Seriously, it was such a harmless, mundane, blink-and-you-miss-it kiss. But I'm hoping that others will take the lesson of this movie to heart. That you should get to know people before you judge them.

Part of me does wish we could tell trans stories without allegory. That we could just have overt trans characters. But I think this is the best representation possible right now.

It's crazy that Supergirl was one of the bravest shows as far as modern trans representation. It wasn't an edgy HBO drama trying to push boundaries. It was a family-friendly superhero show and they were just like, "Here is a transgender woman with superpowers and it's fine." And I loved that it was part of the character but it wasn't all the character was. Though I think they just missed the manufactured "moral panic" window where that choice would have been extremely controversial causing boycotts of Warner Bros. and whatnot.

My only complaint about Nimona was a small penis joke. It went by very quickly and many may even miss it. But I was surprised to see it in this movie in particular. Especially since those jokes can have collateral damage toward trans folks. With all of the positive messages, wasting a joke on body shaming was a tad disappointing. I mean, it was a fairly lighthearted "Is it cold in here?" joke. I don't want to make it sound worse than it was. But it still registered on my Richter scale of things that bother me.

Anyway, I wholeheartedly give Nimona a 5 out of 5. It helped me understand my friends on a deeper level and it was warm and funny and entertaining. There was a scene at the end that was so beautiful and heart-wrenching and I was crying my eyes out. The animation and the symbolism and the acting were just so perfect.

It's a shame Disney tried to kill this movie. But I am so glad it was allowed to exist despite that.

#long post #nimona #homophobia

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lilastromama · 1 year

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what i love about different zodiac signs/placements 🍷 [2]

___________________________

aries lilith: their willpower. it might not always be for the positive, but theyre willing to do everything in order to get what they want, everything. Theyre ruthless. Im not saying thats GOOD, but its not always a bad trait either. go babes

saturn in the 8th house: how the universe doesnt play about them. this has less to do w their personality, and more to do with how inclined they are with spirit. fool them once, youre not gonna be able to fool them twice anyways. The universe always whips out the uno reverse card on you if u make the mistake to hurt them. Just something i have experienced a hell lot

capricorn sun: their balance (?) listen idk how to put this in words the right way, but so many caps ive met have this certain balance. being calm, kind, patient. And then theyre loud, chaotic, angry, funny, make the best jokes and are the most noticeable in the room. U never know what u get, and i like that

aquarius moon: aquas have never been an easy ride for me, gotta be honest. but the one thing i hold them high up for, is how they dont always "fit in" and yet are still chillin. I have always found strength in being (excuse my language) "outcast" like. Its good to have a mind of your own, and not always walk the way others take, or tell u to go. Please keep questioning things, keep doing you. (as long as it doesnt harm anyone) its a great thing to be unique, its a power move. Its actually something we could all have/do a little more of.

virgo sun: their confidence/support level. Ive noticed a lot of virgo suns to be hype-women/men/people. they support u the best they can, give compliments not even models have ever heard, and make u feel like ure on top of the world. and in women (as i am one, and have experienced this ESPECIALLY with virgo women) they give the best instagram comments. U know which ones im talking about. Those "Omg, i hear vogue calling youu already!!" 🎈comments. Theyre the best at it.

cancer mars: its funny bc cancer is in its fall when its in mars, its not specifically a sought out placement to have. But there is something about those individuals that remind me of female rage. LISTEN 👹 it takes a lot for cancer mars people to noticeably lose their shit, they almost never do it in front of others, they keep quiet mostly. But WHEN they show their pent up emotions, its time to call 911. go home and get the gun, NOW.

9th house individuals: Their minds. Yes, yes, yes. If u like deeptalks, like to spiral down the rabbit hole and back up, talk to these people. they make amazing teachers, leaders, people which are there to guide and learn you. They have incredibly fast minds, they analyze and calculate QUICKLY. those are the people which u go to when ur ex posted a new pic and u wanna know whos in it. Give them about 3 seconds and they will find out, including where their great grandfather lives. A pleasure <3

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dmwrites · 9 months

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Cecil: Birds of a feather stick together. But if that bird loses its way, it will be lost forever. Welcome… to NightVale.

[intro song plays]

Cecil: Listeners, today I have a guest with me here in the studio! Intern Vincent found our guest wandering in the desert as he was driving to the station this morning, and I jumped at the idea of having this guest on our show! So, why don’t you introduce yourself, mystery guest!

???: I’m… Grian. My name’s Grian.

Cecil: Well, welcome to our small community radio show, Grian! Listeners, Grian is-

Grian: Did you say listeners?

Cecil: Why yes! All of our wonderful citizens of NightVale, even the secret police, are listeners of my show!

Grian: Oh… never mind.

Cecil: As I was saying, listeners, our wonderful, if a tad interrupting-y, guest Grian is wearing a torn red sweater, black pants, and closed-toed shoes. I must say, that’s quite a fashion statement, Grian! Not too many people would wear a sweater in the desert. You must not be from around here!

Grian: I… no, I’m not. I’m not quite sure how I got here… I just… I thought I could escape the desert if I walked far enough.

Cecil: Well, as long as you’re not from Desert Bluffs, I’ll call you a friend! Eugh, Desert Bluffs, am I right? But speaking of Desert Bluffs, let me remind all of you that our half-a-millennia traditional triathlon against Desert Bluffs is almost upon us! Volunteers, taken from their homes at four in the morning with bags over their heads, will be competing in three sports events against our bitter rivals, Desert Bluffs. The three sports events, as is tradition, will be: bloodstone dodgeball, confronting the in-laws over broken boundaries, and pickleball. Good luck, NightVale athletes!

Grian: Did you just say, like, words? Like, genuinely, it feels like I just had a stroke. What on earth is a bloodstone?

Cecil: You know, I should have known you weren’t from around here, what with your funny accent. Where are you from, silly little man?

Grian: I… well, that’s a tough one, really. Hermitcraft? Third Life SMP? The Desert? All of them, I suppose. I really don’t know how I got here… I’m not sure this isn’t all a mirage.

Cecil: And you say I say strange things! Well, Grian, I was about to remark on how other cultures may not have bloodstones, but I just noticed all of the blood on your knuckles, and under your fingernails, and on the cuffs of your sweater, which I still do not think is seasonally appropriate.

Grian: Oh god. I thought I scrubbed it off with the sand. Scar…

Cecil: While we figure out the mysteries of the blood here in the studio, and Grian stares down at his hands in horror, let’s take a look at traffic. There is a man with a clock. He stands. He smiles. He will never stop smiling. They will call him a traitor someday, but for now, the traitor lies dead, the present he gave in the hands of that smiling man. They do not know that the clock, golden in its edges, will bind them together in ways they can’t even understand yet.

Grian: Scar is- Scar was my friend. I promised my life to him.

Cecil: I’ve promised my life to someone too! But it was marriage, to my beautiful Carlos. I love Carlos so much.

Grian: Scar… god, he was such a blundering fool, but with a heart and voice of gold. I didn’t think he’d get as far as he did, but we just kept getting away with it. We didn’t think about the end.

Cecil: What did this Scar wear? This is a audio medium, after all, Grian, and I must describe everything to the listeners.

Grian: He didn’t wear much, like, ever. Super annoying, too many abs.

Cecil: There is no such thing as too many abs, Grian.

Grian: I- sure, okay. Can I get back to my story now?

Cecil: Yes, please do! I am sure everyone, especially the secret police, are very interested.

Grian: I killed him with a creeper first. It was a prank, a mistake, but it really cemented the idea that this wasn’t all fun and games. It felt like fun and games for a long time, even after he died for the first time. It wasn’t until-

Cecil: And now, a word from our sponsor. Listeners, are you tired of having a perfect dog? Does your dog-food photo perfect dog leave you the laughing stock of the town? Do you ever wish you could put an imperfection on your dog so you could just fit in? Now you can, with warts! Just put warts on your precious pooch, and slide blissfully back into the dreary backdrop of life while walking them on their leashes. Dog Warts: because nothing can stay perfect forever.

Grian: I… I had to kill him. They- the ghosts of all of my friends, they told me there could only be one victor, and I… god… we stood in a circle of cactus, so we couldn’t leave, and we fought with our fists. I kept hitting him and hitting him and, god, Scar was never the best at fighting… and we were both laughing and I was crying and there was so much blood… it took so long for him to die, Cecil, and all I could do was keep hurting him, so he wouldn’t suffer. And then I was… alone. I said I was sorry, but he couldn’t hear me. No one could hear me anymore. I had won, but at what cost?

Cecil: That’s very dark! Uh, listeners, our guest Grian has a tear running down his cheek, and I am afraid he may burst into outright sobbing! To save you from that audio nightmare, I take you now to the weather!

[Howling by Lupus Nocte plays]

Cecil: Listeners, Grian is gone. He has left the station. He ran out, muttering something about “never being able to escape the desert”… whatever that means. Maybe we should stop inviting random people we find on the side of the deserted road with blood on their knuckles into the studio… but I am afraid that’s all the time we have for today, listeners. Stay tuned next for a canary, stuck in a cage made of bones, singing sadly for none to hear. NightVale, hug your loved ones close tonight. You never know what may happen next. And good night, NightVale, good night.

#grian #life series x wtnv #3rd life #grian can never escape the desert #and he found NightVale!

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buryustogether · 8 months

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the end of forever (god’s day)

aziraphale x reader x crowley

summary: the end of forever comes on god’s day.

word count: 2.6k

warnings/tags: angst, mentions of blood

author’s note: dedicated to @avocado-writing , with whom i did a fic trade and this was my piece!! this fic is part of their good omens original timeline, and i highly recommend reading it!!! <333

The end of forever started on a Saturday evening.

Granted, it was not the Saturday evening that dominates the beginning to every weekend, fitted with gentle rainfall pattering against the windows, and a book propped in your lap, and the comfortable ambiance of your lovers on either side as you let yourself be lulled into peace. Instead it was a dark, thrashing kind of Saturday, filled with panicked whispers over dances, and demons busting down the bookshop windows in hails of twinkling glass. It was blinding, seared into the forefront of your mind with traces of a halo detached from its angel and a pair of souls running away, bound for opposite sides of the universe and forever vanished into one corner together.

And, of course, it was snapped up in the jaws of the Metatron. He had taken Aziraphale for a stroll around the block once or twice, leaving you and Crowley to stare down the mess of what had become the bookshop and wonder if perhaps this had all been a dream.

“Fancy breakfast at the Ritz, love?” Crowley had said as the pair of you began to pluck cracked books from the floor and stack them to be restored and reshelved. With a wave of his slender fingers, he had sent the shards of glass cascading through the air like a silent breeze back to where they belonged in the window frames. “Reckon we deserve it, after a night like that.”

“Sure you’ll be able to handle the drive?” you had said and handed him the empty fire extinguisher, which had fallen down the winding iron staircase. “I’m sure you’re exhausted, Crowley. Spending all that time in Heaven? Must have been awfully straining on you.”

Though he would never admit it, Crowley rather enjoyed it when you fussed over him. He relished in the worry threading your voice together, craved the inevitable babying that accompanied your measures of protection. His chest had puffed slightly, and if you could have seen them, you were sure his wings had ruffled a bit.

“I’ll be alright,” he’d assured, then dropped into the chair he had long ago claimed as his beside Aziraphale’s desk. “Wouldn’t say no to a nap when we come back, though. Could sleep for a few decades, I think. Skip all the garish drama that’s sure to follow something like this. Care to join, nightingale?”

You had smiled at him, eyes full of exhaustion and yet at the same time, the restlessness that came with the knowledge part of your trio was still missing from the picture. “Afraid I can only keep you company a few hours,” you mused. “Immortal as I am, I don’t think I can lie still long enough until you decide to wake up.” Despite your teasing, you reached out your hand to caress his jaw, and he leaned into your warm touch. He knew it like he knew his own breath in his throat at this point, but he still nuzzled into your palm like an animal seeking warmth. Funny enough creature as he was, he was still, deep down, a demon searching your soul for any glimpse of love you might spare him. “I’m glad you’re okay, Crowley,” you said, letting your voice lower in volume so he understood you had dropped your jokes and cracks. “I don’t think I could bear losing you. Either of you.”

He had leaned up to kiss you then, lips and tongue seeking yours like, in spite of your words, one side or the other might tear you away from him. He tasted like cinnamon - an odd enough musk for him, but he had just returned from Heaven, after all. You were sure he hated it. But you had drank it in like it was the last thing you’d taste before you fell.

You found yourself some time later amongst the back shelves of the shop, knees and the heels of your hands aching as you painstakingly wiped away and polished the spots on the floor upon which unholy blood had been spilt and spattered. Aziraphale would not care to have those on his tile, thank you. A voice in the back of your head told you that one of your boys could simply miracle the mess away, but this seemed a bit more intimate - cleaning up the mess for your lover. This was your shop, too, in a way. And you wanted to rid it of any trace of what had happened here last night.

You only realized it was Sunday morning - God’s day - when you heard the bell above the front door jingle with its familiar chime, and the low rumble of your lover’s voices filled the empty space between the air. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, not over the sound of your brush against the floor and the dull ache in your lower back. After a long few minutes, you sat back and inspected your work.

Like the demon invasion of Fell and Co. had never even happened.

You were just about to call out to your boys when you heard a sharp hiss to Crowley’s voice that caused your heart to skip a beat. You twisted your head around to face the front of the store. Crowley only ever hissed when he let his disguise slip and his tongue split. And he only ever let his tongue split when he was so distraught not even a raging thunderstorm could comfort him.

Wiping your hands on your legs, you cautiously made your way through the organized maze of shelves toward the front entrance of the bookshop. There stood your lovers, the angel and the demon, staring one another down like they had never met, like their love had vaporized, like they had never met in that garden at the beginning.

“What’s happened?” you said and made your presence known as you stepped down into the threshold. “What’s wrong?”

Aziraphale turned to face you, obviously making an effort to brighten his features, but it was Crowley who faced away. Dropped his weight onto his arm against the desk. Reached up to tug off his shades, toss them aside hard enough that the lens cracked in its frame. The air crackled with a kind of tension that reared its head so rarely it was almost foreign to you. Or, perhaps, was that divine energy rippling the air, stirred and upset by the creatures standing before you?

“Darling,” said Aziraphale, then reached out to take your hands and placed kisses upon your knuckles. His lips were plump and soft, and when they made contact with the skin of your hand, a tiny sense of ease washed over your veins. “You needn’t worry about this. Just a… little dispute.”

“Oh, don’t lie to her like a child,” seethed Crowley from across the room, and whatever ease had settled your nerves disappeared in the blink of an eye. You felt your blood turn to ice beneath your skin when you heard a wobble, a shake, in his voice. Was your demon… holding back tears? He bared his teeth, which he’d allowed to sharpen like blades, and jutted out an accusatory finger toward his husband. “Tell them, or I bloody will,” he snapped, then lifted a deadly brow. “And you won’t like the way I phrase things, angel.”

Alarm blared like a siren in your head, flashed like lights that burned your eyes even through your lids. You knew at once this surely had something to do with last night, with the Metatron, and you were unable to stop yourself from snapping around to stare at Aziraphale expectantly. Where you searched for comfort and reassurance, you found only irritation and exasperation.

“Aziraphale,” you said, gripping his hands tighter as you gently shook your head with confusion. You only barely managed to keep your voice from shaking; something was very, very wrong. This was not like the time two hundred years ago when they had stopped talking to one another for a decade. This was far more serious, far more dangerous. “Aziraphale, what’s happening?”

Your angel stared into your eyes - or, perhaps, he was staring at his own reflection in your irises - and he let out a breath you had not heard him take in. “The Metatron,” he began slowly, softly, like you were a spooked animal who would run if he talked too loud, “has given me a generous, generous offer.”

From across the room, Crowley scoffed over his shoulder and gave another hiss from between his teeth.

“Based on a few of the…” Aziraphale seemed to struggle with the words. “Good deeds that have been performed the last six thousand years, Heaven has agreed to allow me back into its order - as the Supreme Archangel, now that Gab… Jim has vacated his position.” Despite the slow, sinking feeling growing like a black hole in your gut as he went on, the beginnings of an excited smile played upon the corners of his lips. “And they’ve even offered to redeem Crowley - as an angel again!”

The bookshop was a deadly kind of quiet, the kind that filled empty spaces with fear, and dread, and horror until there was nothing left but a rotting mess. Your mouth hung agape as you tried to process your angel’s words, tried to swallow down what he’s just said. Heaven wanted him back - would take Crowley back. That would be it. Their time on Earth would come to a close, a thunderous applause, a devastating end.

Yet there was a single question that hung tight in the air, one that waited like a dagger above each of your heads, waiting to see who would speak of it first.

Could you handle the sting when it planted itself in your back? “Aziraphale,” you heard yourself whisper as your brows knitted together and tears puddled in the corners of your eyes, “what about me?”

Though you could not see it, Crowley shut his eyes and pursed his lips, still attempting to stop the tears from falling down the gaunt planes of his cheeks. He knew the answer already, knew his angel far too well to pretend it could be anything different. He wanted to protect you from it, clasp his hands over your ears and snarl and snap at the world until he’d frightened everything that could hurt you far, far away. But you had to hear this.

Aziraphale swallows thick, holding your hands a bit tighter, like you might bolt from his grasp any moment. Even when you shift, he grips you in an iron grasp. “Well,” he drawls slowly, hesitation creeping into the corners of his voice, “of course, Heaven can’t grant holy status to… ah… humans. Immortal or not, I’m afraid, my love. But do you know angels hold the ability to possess human souls within themselves? Keep them safe and sound - isn’t that lovely? Why, I’m not the first angel in history to find a human they can’t let go of.” His hold tightens again, turning your skin pale where he grips you. “I - we could bring you with us. Your soul, darling.”

Every ounce of curiosity, of worry and fear, has morphed into a single sickening, dripping, venomous sensation that floods your systems, encases your body like a cocoon swallowing you whole; horror.

“You want to take my soul to Heaven,” you said quietly, so terribly softly that it was barely above a whisper. “Like a pet.” With this, you yanked your hands from Aziraphale’s and forced yourself to take three steps back. It stung like knives between your ribs to do so, to bear the expression painting itself across your husband’s face, but there was no other choice. “Aziraphale, you would trade us - trade this - to go back to them? After what they’ve done to you?” You took another step back, and you felt yourself bump into the chest of your demon. “After what they did to Crowley?”

You had always heard betrayal hurt worse from a lover than anyone else. Was this what betrayal felt like? Like stones in your pocket with a river pulling you under? Like venom slowly sucking your life from your very veins.

“No, of course not,” your angel tried, raising his hands. He opened his mouth to go on, then threw up a palm and sniffed out an exasperated huff. “If you both would just try and understand…”

“Oh, we understand plenty.” There came no term of endearment at the end of Crowley’s statement, no playful lilt or head nod. Only the cold, piercing gaze of those yellow eyes, and the slow wrapping of his hands around your arms, pulling you closer against him.

The movement caught Aziraphale’s eye, and hellfire flashed within them. “Oh, I should have known it would go this way,” he chided, pacing forward. “Here I thought you could, for once, Crowley, suppress your demonic ways of swaying her to your side. For once! Are you satisfied, you old serpent? Are you content with what’s happening?”

“How dare you!” The shout came from deep within your chest, an explosive rage nothing short of a scream that leaves the angel frozen where he stands. Those ocean eyes flicker to yours as you at last allow yourself to cry, to feel the sobs wrack your body like earthquakes and feel the tears gathering at the point of your chin. “How dare you let them come between us, Aziraphale! Between us!” You choked a bit and your angel visibly fought a battle within himself, wanting to pull away and surge forward all at once. “After everything… after everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve built, and you want to leave it to play God.”

“Of course I’m not leaving us,” your angel murmured, the crows feet against his eyes making themselves known as he knits his brows. Tears brim the edges of his vision. “I - I would be taking us with me. To somewhere safe… for all of us.”

“No,” you exhaled shakily, feeling Crowley’s fingers tighten around your upper arms. You shook your head at Aziraphale, your ears ringing and heart shattered. “Not safe for us. Better for you.” You peered into his eyes, into those watery blue eyes you could have drowned in, and saw your reflection staring back as he searched for something he could not find. “You miss Heaven, Aziraphale. You always have - and we know that. We all do.” There came a terrible, horrible, dreadful pause. “But we can’t go with you. We won’t.”

Your angel seemed at a loss for words. He simply stood there, staring you and his husband down. He gaped. Tried to form words. Took a step back.

Above you, his fingers now digging so tightly, so fiercely, so protectively, into your skin that his nails left marks, Crowley sneered and hissed in a voice filled with the desolation of a fallen angel, “You idiot.” You turned your face and tucked it into his shirt. “We could have been… us.”

Aziraphale said nothing for a very, very long time. Then he murmured, “I forgive you both.”

The bell over the door jingled, and he was gone, without leaving so much as a feather behind.

You sobbed loudly, awfully, horribly into Crowley’s chest, and you felt his own unholy, burning tears fall against your hairline as he stroked your tresses and kept you standing.

The end of forever started on a Saturday evening, and ended on a Sunday morning.

It was God’s day, after all.

#good omens #good omens crowley #good omens aziraphale #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #good omens x reader #the light the dark and the spaces in between fic

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astraxxei · 3 months

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thinking about lovesick corrupted yan venti 🤤

he was nice enough to give his darling their own room to “be nice” but they have a chain attached from thier ankle to the bed and its only long enough to go to the four corners of the room

thinkign ab how he doesnt think its noncon because it brings them clsoer together

thinking ab darling who just gor kidnapped and gets their ass punished for biting his dick mid bj

he would punish them by hurting them back lol

u should totally write ab reader biting his dick ( like as a way of attacking him ) and getting punished for it

yes this is a noncon request 😞

gn!reader possibly?

- :3

Hi :3 anon! OF COURSE I'LL DO TS. THE BITING IS SO FUNNY HELP ME.

✧.° - You belong to me, darling...~ ♡

ft VENTI from Genshin Impact.

WARNINGS : NSFW: SEXUAL THEMES. INTERACT AT YOUR OWN RISK. DARK CONTENT. ( :NONCON. Sadism/Masochism. Slight blood. Violence. Yandere themes. Character is a yandere. Reader is a victim. Degradation.)

Yandere! Corrupted! Venti. Reader uses they/them pronouns. Reader is gn. AU where corrupted Venti is the ruler of Mondstadt and reader is an innocent citizen. Oneshot: requested.

This is a dark content post. If you do not wish to see this type of content, please block the corresponding tags. I am not responsible for any person reading this. Reader discretion is advised. Any hate will not be tolerated. By proceeding under the cut, you confirm that you wish to see this type of content and you have FULL responsibility of what you're about to read and interact with.

~ ♡ ~

Even ever since you knew about what Barbatos has become, you did not wish to leave your birth nation. Strange, yet endearing, that you had such a strong connection to your homeland that you didn't want to leave even while you knew that your archon had been corrupted with a mind full of malice and power and then... nothing. Destruction and despair, but you preferred to endure than run away. Scared and stunned, you ran and ran like a chased criminal from the wind. You had went out to buy some apples, but suddenly you felt like the breeze has been after you. You felt like this for a while, every single time you stepped foot out of your home, like something was chasing you, a strong desire to make you it's possession filling in it's blood.

But the wind blew so hard this time, it knocked you on a tree and you passed out. About time, because you've been losing sleep lately, you though before blackening out. You suddenly wake up and... You feel strange. Your head hurts, but you're on a soft bed. But you try to get up and...what is that you feel? Restraints? Chains locked in your ankle on the bed.

You realized you could only move to reach the corners of the small room. The chain attached to your ankle was starting to hurt, but you didn't notice that. More importantly, you were scared. You didn't know what was going on. Who was the one that chained you, restrained you, in a place you've never been before? You hear a faint laugh in the distance. Malicious laugh... sending shivers of terror down your spine.

The one climbing up the stairs to the little room you were currently in was no one other than the Anemo archon himself. Your eyes widen. You can't believe you got into this situation.

"B- Barbatos?!"

"Call me Venti, dear~"

His voice is sweet like sugar cubes, but it's scary and intimidating at the same time. He is average heighted, his glowing, pink eyes are staring into yours. His huge smile is spread across his face, and you swear that even in your weak vision you can see blood staining his delicate clothes.

"Look darling. You're mine from now on~ I gave you your own room~ I should be getting rewarded for being so kind and sweet...to my lover. Come here, and I will teach you how to show me your appreciation all day~"

Terrified, you shake your head as he walks towards you. You were scared, so scared, oh, what a monster...

You almost don't notice how swiftly you're being pulled towards him. You try to protest and squirm but his hand is grabbing your hair so hard it hurts and you almost cry out in pain. A malicious laugh is the response you're getting.

"Ahahaha! Look at you, trying to get away from the Anemo archon! This is a way for both of us to bond, you know...you should want it...You should be good to me...or else... I might do something you won't really like...my lovely dearie~"

You stop protesting as his hand on your hair is hurting you too much to handle. Before you realize it you're lowered down to his crotch and as he throws his clothing to the side you see his erection pent up proudly right in front of your face. Your eyes widen at the sudden realization of his size, but you remember, he's a god, so you're not anymore surprised. He looks down at you mischievously and smiles widely as he runs his hand through your hair.

"See that? Well, you better take care of it. I don't have all day."

You sigh in despair of how you got yourself into this situation. You part your lips and start taking it slowly inside your mouth, sucking slowly and looking up at him with a slightly indifferent look. You see his flushed face as he grabs your hair tighter and pulls your head towards himself roughly, the sounds of pleasure escaping his mouth as soon as he feels yours around him.

"Aaah~ Mmph~ Haah~"

He tastes so good. You don't want to admit it to yourself, but you like it. You really like the sensation. But at the same time...you get slightly annoyed. You've been denied freedom and a good life because of this faulty archon, and now he's forcing you to suck on his dick? You feel absolutely degraded. You decide you can't tolerate this, no, for your nation, and your own sake, you can't.

Without even thinking you bring your teeth to bite down. Not too hard, but enough to cause pain. You see Venti's eyes widen and tear up slightly as he lets out a pained squeal and pulls back from you immediately.

You pant and breathe heavily, looking at him as your saliva is connecting your mouth with his tip. Suddenly he looks down at you with a very angry expression and before you know it a hard, sudden slap makes it's way across your face.

"That hurt, you fucking whore!"

Your vision goes foggy. You whimper and place your trembling hand on your cheek. The chain is still tied to your ankle. You look up at him, shaking. He looks down at you, breathing heavily, but seemingly less angry than before. He kneels down and his hand quickly wraps around your neck. It's really hard, and it hurts. You try to whimper out your words.

"..'m sorry..sor- hnn..."

He lets go of your neck and smiles. "This is what you get for being a disobedient slut. Don't worry, I still love you though~ disobedient or not, you're just my adorable little toy..."

He looks down at you with a wide, mischievous smile and caresses your cheek.

"...and I'm going to do anything in my power to make sure you understand that you're mine and mine only. The feeling of me will be implanted in your brain forever. You belong to me, darling...~ "

~ ♡ ~

A/n: I have never written anything more toe curling in my whole life. Also I managed to not laugh while writting the biting part. I did not expect this to happen.

#genshin venti #venti x reader #smut #genshin smut #dark content #gn!reader #genshin x reader #anemo archon #degrading k1nk #yandere #yandere character #mental illness #core #tw noncon #tw bl0od

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