#(remanent of the dead)

[fan-goddess]

Authors Note: Here’s the second request! Kinda rushed the final editing so there’s probably mistakes I’ll find looking over this a couple days later. Still, I hope you like it anon!

Warnings: P in v sex, getting caught, it’s like semi-public, no protection, dirty talk, kinda sexting, perving on reader not by Aemond tho, aegon pervy, (probably missed a few but if I miss any let me know so I can add them)

Taglist: @sofiyathecunt, @marvelgirl123, @sylasthegrim, @mochi-rose, @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity, @omgbrcat

When Aemond was told he’d be left alone for the day whilst his family did a variety of things that day, he instantly knew with a dark smirk what he’d be doing to occupy the time.

With a smirk, Aemond chucks his phone somewhere on the couch and waits eagerly, practically shooting up from his seat when he hears the doorbell loudly ring and draws him from his thoughts.

As soon as he turns the key and swings the door open, eager arms are locked around his neck, and matching eager lips lock with his own as he kicks the door forcibly shut with his foot and confines you against the wall, effectively trapping you there.

Yet the two of you stay like that for a while. Content with kissing in each others arms. That is however, until you begin to grind yourself against his growing bulge.

“Is my pretty girl getting eager now?” Aemond grins, pulling himself away to admire your swollen lips and lust blown eyes.

“Hmm been so since you sent me that text little dragon?” You smirk, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

“Little dragon?” Aemond smirks, grabbing your chin to look at you dead in the eyes whilst you whimper silently at the sudden turn of situation. Aemond is not gonna be playing nice today.

“Get on the sofa for me darling, and I’ll show you how little this dragon is…”

The small smile you make as you practically sprint to the other room, stripping off your outer layers when you can, makes Aemonds cock harden even more if possible.

He walks into the room only a minute later, and smirks when he sees your naked body laid out all for him, even chuckling slightly when he sees some fading marks of his that he made a couple days ago.

“What a good girl I have…” Aemond murmurs, kneeling before you so he can trail his hand over your body, chuckling again slightly when he sees goosebumps raise where he touches you. “Now, what did I tell you in that text I sent you earlier about what you would get if you came over?”

“Your presence….”

“And?”

“Your cock…”

“Good girl…” And before you can think of an answer, Aemond surges his head forward and takes your clit in his mouth before sucking harshly, grinning into your warmth when your hands intertwine themselves roughly in his hair, tugging slightly when his nails dig slightly into your thighs.

“Oh! Aemond! So good!” You whine. Your eyes screwed shut as you focus only on the feeling of his hot mouth as he begins to suck and lick at your wet cunt. Mixing between tasting your clit and teasing your entrance.

He cannot exactly answer, so he only hums slightly, which seems to make your leg tense quickly before you let out a small moan.

The taste of you on his tongue is addictive. It’s a unique taste of sweetness and a slight tanginess he cannot get enough of. And it shows as even after you’ve already came, his mouth and tongue make no moves to stop, especially as his tongue somehow manages to graze that rough patch inside of you as he pushes himself as that makes your noises turn wanton and almost whorish.

Aemond makes you cum two more times on his tongue before he believes to be done with you.

As he finally disconnects himself from your cunt, aemond can’t resist himself from kissing you again, before using his tongue and fingers to get any remanence of your juices from his and your mouths.

It’s a dirty thing, but it makes the whole thing all that more arousing.

“Do you want me to fuck you now? Do you want me to fuck you until you can still feel me deep inside of you days after? Until even when we’re together, your mind still thinks of what I’m going to do to you, and you end up rubbing your thighs together desperate for friction like some little wanton bitch in heat?”

“Yes yes yes Aemond I want all of that please!” You mewl it so pathetically Aemond almost feels bad for you. Almost… “Please Aemond, please fuck me!”

“If the good girl wants it that badly, then I suppose the good girl will get it…”

Aemond doesn’t start slowly like how he knows you like it. Instead, he begins at a ferocious pace. One that leaves you mewling and panting beneath him so hard he can’t help but admire the way your naked breasts shake every time you shakily inhale a breath.

“Such a good girl I have in my possession huh? A good girl that listens to orders and obeys when told to…” Aemond coos, sadistically smiling and even laughing slightly when he puts a thumb to your lips as a test and without even asking, you open your lips and begin sucking on his thumb as if it was his cock in your mouth.

It was really fucking hot…

“Good girl…” Aemond grunts, positioning you slightly so he gets to bully that rough spot he was hitting earlier with his tongue.

It’s pure animalistic what the two of you are doing. The only sounds the two of you can hear are the sounds of Aemonds grunts, your high pitched whines, and the sounds of Aemonds wet skin slapping against your own. It’s all so loud that it sort of creates this bubble between the two.

So loud in fact, that the two of you are utter oblivious to the sound of the car coming up the driveway, and the sound of the front door opening a couple minutes later.

The only way that bubble was popped, was when a frantic voice shouted from the doorway, “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK AEMOND?”

The two of you grabbed whatever you could to cover yourselves. You grabbed aemonds shirt to cover your naked torso, whilst Aemond opted for one of the light blue sofa cushions to only cover his still erect cock. Positioning himself to preserve your dignity with his body.

At the end of the day, you’re still his girlfriend who he loves and respects. Even though the way he fucks may not exactly show it…

When the two of you are somewhat decently covered, you both turn to whoever walk in, and hold in equal groans of embarrassment and annoyance when you see Aegons smirking condescending face looking down at you both.

“My my my…looks like I’m not the only sexual deviant in this household…”

“Fuck off Aegon! What are you doing back I thought you were on some date with some unfortunate girl of some dating app?” Aemond growled, moving you closer behind him when he saw Aegons eyes attempting to peek at you.

“She texted as I got halfway saying she got food poisoning or some shit and she needed to reschedule. So I thought I’d come back and hang out with my little bro. Only to find him balls deep in his pretty little girlfriend…”

“Aegon, I’m warning you….” Aemonds eyes furrow in anger. And no matter how comforting it is to feel your hand hold his own in a soothing manor, nothing can take away the fact his brother has such a punchable face.

His temper only worsens when he sees that Aegons line of sight is caught on your underwear peaking out from some of your clothes.

“That’s it!” Aemond shouts, quickly moving to stand much to your surprise. Choosing to ignore you as you start begging him to calm down.

“Okay okay I’m gonna be in my room so bye little bro!” Aegon awkwardly grins as he quickly begins to sprint to his room up the stairs, before being followed by the sound of his hurried footsteps, and his door opening and slamming shut.

Other than that, Aemond can only hear your concerned voice as you try to stand up, and much to his amusement you stumble straight back down on the sofa.

“Oh shut it!” You snap, eyes furrowed as you look at him.

“I said nothing!” Aemond smirks, raising his arms in an innocent manner, dropping the cushion to the floor and laughing slightly when he sees your eyes look over his whole body almost bashfully. Though when he gets close enough to you, he pulls you up into his arms as his thoughts turn to all but innocent things.

“How long do you think Aegons gonna be here for?” You ask, resting your head on his chest.

“Well he’s been here all his life, so forever. Why?”

“Isn’t your room soundproof?” You smirk, and it all makes sense as Aemond matches it with his own devilish grin.

“It is indeed…” As Aemond lifts you to your surprise and shouts of annoyance, he drags you to his bedroom and slams the door shut hard.

Maybe this time Aegon will learn not to interrupt…?

[christinebloodwrittings]

To hunt or be hunted #7

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer Summary: A moment of weakness, or perhaps of caring? Warnings: SMUT kids scram!.

Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink @sibsteria @cherry-cola-100 @readergirlstuff @phoenixica24 @martinys-world @alientee @jellyroom2 @jewelsrules @ladyzaunis

Sorry for the updating problems, now it's finished :3

"Then...make me your reason" your laughter was unexpected, but then again, he wasn’t expecting for you to say yes right away.

"Why? And don't sell me the cow that in less than three months you fell for me, 'cause it's not possible, besides you're married" the brightness that surrounded him, upset your stomach, it was a reminder.

Her. His story, the fall, his and her promises of never stopping loving each other. What could happen between them to break such a love story? What if she never came back?

Could you live long enough to make him happy? Will you suffice?

"Well, I grew fond of our talks, it will be really sad if I lost my cuddle buddy" He wasn't sure what he was saying, just the fact that not seeing you was not an option, "And, I've noticed you take good care of Charlie" it hurt him, a lot, but seeing his own daughter being taken care of in any way possible, but not by him, was like a direct stab to his heart.

Your weirded out face made him explain:

"You make sure she eats, in the mornings it's you who gives her vitamins, you remind her of her appointments, bandage her when she gets hurt, I've even heard her rant to you and take your advice at heart. You've taken care of my daughter as if she was yours" Lucifer’s heart ached with every word.

A lightning bolt hit your entire body, figuratively. Eight years of taking care of her, it was as natural as breathing. Did you perhaps reflect the stolen need for motherhood in her? If so, her real mother is going to annihilate you.

"What if that was your reason?" he had his hope on the line, "I'm not her mother, the real deal will kill me if she hears me, but though she's being unbelievably irresponsible, I cannot take this from her” you took notice on his hands again, he had them on each side of your head it was hard not to notice.

Subtle scratches, horizontal, messy and weirdly even, the depression medication. Oh you prayed she never get back, he would never forgive you if her head was on the other end of your axe, but you won’t have him getting hurt by her again, and if it could be at the expense of your life, even better.  

"I think, deep down, she knows that. I'm not excluded in that" he lowered himself again, at least you wouldn’t look him in the eyes when you spoke, it hurt seeing his ‘at the verge of tears’ look.

"You know, I think if you tell your daughter of your depression, she will stop resenting your absence" he pulled himself up again, his red cheeks went so down you thought they would reach the underside of his chin "She does what?" anguish, pure at that.

"What did you think she rants about? Partially you, mainly why her hotel isn't working” he sighed, listening to you made him understand why Charlie stook around you, which was the other way around mostly, but still. He took your hand from his shoulder, kissed your knuckles with his eyes closed, then muttered a very heartfelt "Thank you for taking care of her” before leaning against your palm.  

"With time it became my pleasure, at first I wanted to kill her" you chuckled, he came down on your neck, inhaling the remanent smell on his shampoo. What an intimate thing, Lilith wouldn’t be caught dead wearing some other thing than her rose smelling antique perfume and products.

“Good thing you didn't” he muttered, “And face you? I ain't stupid" you only realized what you said when he started laughing at you, a soundly one with one or two occasional snorts, "Shut up" you rolled on your side with him still on you, which was pretty easy.

"Make us your reason, stay" if you were sober you would’ve coward in your old morals for the intimate position, crotch to crotch, but it was so close and warm.

“I'm just leaving that option on the table, if you still want to die, we'll miss you dearly, heck, I think even that son of bitch of Alastor will” you shook your head softly, attempting not to laugh, the alcohol doing all the funny work in your brain.

“You enjoy being in between my tits, huh?” his snake smile was too much when you dropped that, “I've been here through all this conversation, didn't heard you complaining” his hand went up and down your back.

“You have her in your mind when we do this” your happiness went away, your limbs went limp, so did your mind for a moment.

“No, not so much” his smile dropped, gosh you wished you could sew it up, “I wasn't asking, I just want to know if you're aware of who I’m not”.

“I am” he assured.

“Do I disappoint you, when you open your eyes and realize she's still not here?” he was, his hesitation told you everything.

"Thing is, I can't make you or Charlie my reason, I will not be a replacement, I'm sure you understand"

"And what if Alastor asked you that? Will you?".

"No, he’s two different people, one with me and another in public, and he despises physical touch and PDA on a daily basis, and I need that" you saw his shadow slip from under the door, drawing a finger along his neck and an ok hand gesture.

“But he did me a solid tonight, a huge one, if he asked me for a kiss tomorrow I would give him some sugar” the shadow winked then slipped under again.

“And if I did? Would you?” you knew what he was asking, but instead you just played something random in your head in hopes for him to let you sleep a bit, “Give you a kiss? My, my, your majesty, how forward”.

“You're a prude” he moved away from your neck, “I'm simply old fashioned”.

His hand rested on your cheek, gently moving towards your neck, not squeezing or pressing, just holding it. Your tail wrapped around your leg, at the same time you closed your eyes as her face approached, slowly. A kiss, calm, soft, near the corner of your lips.

"Is that okay?" you weren’t listening, you wanted to relish on the loveliness of his gesture, it made you all bubbly and lovely. You hummed, there was nothing else you could utter, not when his breath went back to your neck.  

A mental ‘fuck it’ later, had you yanking his head away from your neck and pressing your lips on his, "Remind me of this when I'm sober" as soon as you were done you pulled him back against you, "Will do" a loved sick king he was, reminded him when he just had met Lilith.

"And Y/n…if you gave me a chance and some time, you wouldn't be a replacement” after a second of thought and a heavy sigh, “Can I keep that option and sleep on it for a while?" he smiled then nuzzled into your warmth, as did you, "Sure thing, like I said, the option is there".

The way Lucifer saw it, an abstract void in which he was trapped, willingly so.

How can he put seven years of pain behind him? It is as if he is sitting in the dark, while the world moves around him, he doesn’t know if he falls or rises, he only feels the movement and how it leaves him behind in a certain way. He sees you, far away in the shadows, your body wrapped in them, covering everything except your face, to him it looks like you are drowning, in the center of your chest a white, empty hole.

Your tired eyes without more tears to shed, even without strength they managed to stay away from the shadows, how? He alone clinging to hope and denial kept the cold of loneliness and despair at bay.

Contrary from him, you maintained yourself above the darkness, standing, strong despite being tired out of your mind. He longed to know what drove you to keep walking despite everything. Reach you in some way, save you from the hands of pain that tried to drag you into oblivion.

What were you reaching for? Your arm was out stretched, towards the sky, was it heaven? Someone to help you? He wanted to, he wanted to move, why he couldn’t?

“Fuck, Y/n! Wait for me, please, I’ll find a way, I promise!” he yelled into the void, not getting your attention despite how many times he did, or how loud he was.

Specks of lights made you fade from view, “No, please, not you too, I can be better!” His knees shook, so he used his claws against the ground to try to move towards you, tearing the skin under his nails from the strength he put into it.

“Please, don’t leave!” he yelled one more time. And then, he felt how his agitated breathing dried his throat, the light from his room almost blinded his eyes when he opened them. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was a dream.

It was still pretty early, the sky was still dark, the only light that illuminated the room was the one from the bathroom.

You were kneeling near the toilet, head down, he guessed the alcohol caught up on you and moved away from him to vomit. Silently he picked up your hair from your face, gently holding all the soft strands in his hand, as the other caressed your back softly.  

Still, not a single word being uttered, he materialized you a toothbrush, then he waited for you to come back to bed, his arms open. This time he positioned himself behind your back, one arm under your neck and the other across your waist, avoiding pressing too hard.

You wondered, what made him treat you so sweetly? You touched with your index softly along the scratches on his wrist, “How can someone ethereal like you, be troubled by things so earth bound?” you realized you said it out loud when the hand that was on your waist moved to intertwine it with yours.  

“I’m far from ethereal” his hot breath was on your ear, the twitching made him smile. “You were an angel, how can someone like you feel so much pain?” It was difficult for him to analyze your question, were you perhaps questioning that angels did not feel emotions? “How? I feel, you like you” you shook your head, “That’s not what I mean” collecting your thoughts seemed impossible, it was a mental mess.

“You wonder why I feel pain?” you hummed in response, “I feel like at the beginning, helpless, useless, I took away her chance to go to heaven, believing I could make her happy, but it wasn’t enough” he then added “I wasn’t enough” hurt was an understatement, there was a whole set of words yo describe how his voice sounded, but his sadness overall brought a few tears to fall off your eyes.

“I may have felt the same way… still do” he hugged you even tighter, “We are two broken souls, a bunch of messy pieces” you leaned your face to the marks on his wrist, placing a subtle kiss as you joked “Scrap books”, making him smile and let out a small laugh, “You’re so cute”.

🍎📻

"Alastor, is me, open up" you leaned against the door frame, your headache killing your head and your stomach on the verge of jumping off your body. That and the tiredness for waking up in the middle of the night made your voice a bit raspy and slurred.

"Good morning mon chérie, how was your night?" either he was being a sunshine to piss you off, or he was in a sincere good mood…or both.

“I am never drinking again” he laughed a little, watching you push the silver ‘room service’ cart inside his room, setting it on a near corner.

“I assumed as much” he reached his bookshelf and pulled a couple pills out of a few boxes, “You're amazing” he got all kind of tingles when you took the pills off his hand, he relished on how unbelievably soft your skin was.

"I must say that about you, quite the entertainment your ex resulted to be" With his cup of tea he sat in a single red sofa chair, with his free hand he pat the black one on his side. You flopped on the seat with your cup of coffee.

“Is he dead?” he couldn’t tell by your already sour tone if you were being sarcastic or you really cared, "Barely alive, but healing, I will tore him apart again tonight" the little smile he got from you was delightful.

"Darling, I have some information for you" if the ass of your ex told him anything, you didn’t needed to know, curiosity burned your insides though. “What will it cost me?” he hummed pensative, “A kiss” that was odd coming from him, but then again you remembered telling him, or his shadow, that.

“The intel first, to see if it's worth it” you tried to laugh your urge to kill someone, “I know the name of the man your daughter got sold to, he's down here" he took a sip of his tea, "He's in the mafia district, I know where his base of operations is".

"I… want to see him first, hear from him what he did with my daughter, even if it hurts" he hummed in understanding, reaching your hand, giving you a reassurance squeeze.

"Again, thank you Alastor, you...have no idea how much I appreciate this" he smiled, the shadows that conformed the chair you sat on elevated you and with a swift movement you fell gently on Alastor’s lap. "Show me” ‘fucking narcissist’ you thought, bringing your hand to cup his cheek.

When your lips merged with his, time didn’t mattered, it in fact went a lot slower. He embraced your waist with one arm, bringing you closer if that was possible, his other one secured your back and neck in place, grasping a fistful of your hair once or twice.

He sensed his mental sanity left his body when he felt your hand on the back of his head, caressing ever so lightly, going down to the rim of his shirt, respecting the limit he wanted to eliminate.

He felt a little brave, comfortable with the interaction, the white shirt carefully tucked into your pants was lifted, allowing Alastor’s hand to roam around your back, feeling the corset laces, playing with them.

"Don't do that if you're not going to do something about it" you warned, your forehead in touch with his. Alastor’s smile softened, “I’m not partial to physical touch” he started, “You’ve made that clear” you giggled, pecking his cheek, earning a content sigh from him.

“Somehow you… how to put it? Make me desire it, to have you nearer than I accustom” you blinked a few times, your hand went back to his cheek, softly making your way to his hair, “I don’t understand why, nor this feeling, would you help me dearest?” He had closed his eyes when your hand touched him again, but at the end of his question he opened them.

Having known well the desire faces of countless men, you knew that what Alastor was begging for was not any sexual impulse, but closeness, warmth, softness. The pleasure that only a person who burns for another can deliver.

You weren't sure if you could provide him with such a feeling, however the guilt of having denied him your sympathy for fear of becoming too attached dissipated for a second.

His face got close once again, his eyes asking for permission, without wasting any more time you let him introduce his tongue into your mouth, a passion that ignited a flame of desire that ran through your entire body.

He pulled apart, “May I?” He referred to the bulletproof corset you were wearing. After nodding your head, he deftly undid the slats that held your torso together, as well as unbuttoned your shirt and removed the leather straps over your shoulders.

He seemed to pay no attention to the snake tattoo clutching your arm, making its way to in between your breast.

Exposed from the waist up, but that wasn't going to be uneven. You asked the same thing, your hands playing with the hem of his shirt, occasionally touching his Adam's apple to rile him up.

You knew he was unsure, but he nodded nonetheless. He kissed you again as he felt you letting his coat fall from his shoulders, as well as the leather cross that adorned his chest, and then one button at a time his shirt opened, until you had a clear view once again of the scars. under his fine fur, the already healed battle wound and his thin but strong torso.

His hands then touched a series of indentations on your skin, long and repetitive, almost all of the same length, spreading across your skin to a little below your shoulders. When he wanted to stop kissing you to take a look, you held his face against the back of the chair, "Don't make me feel like damaged goods, don't pay attention to what you're touching, okay?" You didn't want to see him feel sorry for you, for once you wanted to enjoy the attention without thinking about your past.

He obeyed your wishes. Standing up from the chair, with you up with him, in a flash of green, he laid you down on a dark red fabric, he had materialized a bed on his room.

His hands caressed from your shoulders to your breasts, perhaps admiring the shape or the softness, but more than anything, what made Alastor make sighs of pleasure was leaving small kisses and bites from your neck to the space between your breast.

The small electric sensations made you cling to his shoulders, fighting any urge to accidentally scratch him. Purposedly, returning to your face level, he pressed his groin against your core, a yelp escaped your throat, a sound that to his ears was heavenly.

“Take the cover off” He knew you used a dental cover over your fangs, mostly to avoid cutting your tongue or lips, “You want me to bite you?” he chuckled, his face adorned with a lustful glint, “I want you to devour me, chérie” with a snap of his fingers, he made it go away, leaving it on a tiny box on the shelf on top of the fireplace.

He left his collarbone exposed and free for you, raising his body a little higher, taking the opportunity to lick the sensitive edge of your ear. His breath caught as your teeth embedded in the curve where his shoulder and neck meet. When he was able to breathe again he exhaled shakily, causing your cervix to tingle.

Ecstasy, that was the word that came to Alastor's mind after trying to rationalize. His knees trembled, but he felt strong enough to lift your body and move you from the edge of the bed, towards the center, your head resting on one of the pillows.

Something that he could not do in life, but because it never occurred to him that he would need it, try the pleasures of skin. He moved down your body, hands on your belt, he again asked for your permission and with a smile you nodded. His constant questioning was refreshing, no one was interested in asking you if you wanted to be defiled, however, he was different.

Like the show man he is, he traveled down to your feet, pulling one up his shoulder, as he unzip your boots and felt all undergarments discarded on the edge of the bed. Never breaking eye contact as he did.

He also undid his pants, allowing you to see the red streak of hair that went down his bellybutton to the groomed part over his groin. He was big, the color of his skin matching the cream hue on his face, only lighter.

“I’ve never done this before” he confessed, ears to his sides, “You want me to take the lead?” you asked, not mocking but trying assure him it wasn’t something to be embarrassed about, “Tell me how can I pleasure you” your own ears went down embarrassed, “You don’t have to go down on me, but the path has to be opened, you can do it with your fingers”.

He hummed, burring his face in your neck as his hand went down your stomach, passing over your clit to go in between your folds, finding your wet entrance. You gasped, he rid of his claws as he introduced one finger.

Your hands flew to his back, alarming him a little, “It’s okay, it just…been a while, I kind of forgot the feeling” your face was flushed, too embarrassed to look at him in the eye. He continued a soft pumping motion, nipping on your neck as he did. Relishing on the gasps and moans that left your throat. He continued that way until he was able to add three fingers, and by the then your insides squeezed him tightly, then your back arched as you emitted a loud high gasp.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t hold it anymore, it felt so good, I’m sorry” he kissed your tears away, “I’m actually quite flattered I was able to pleasure you to the point of finishing just with my fingers” he made you laugh, “Al, please, I need you inside” your whole body was shaking as he touched you.

“With pleasure, ma belle vie” He positioned the tip on the edge, sending shivers up his spine. Little by little he pushed himself inside, all the way to the rim.

He waited for some kind of confirmation despite his urge to move, although he found your hips grinding on his was enough of a clue to continue.

His pace started off slow and gentle, when you pulled his face back for a kiss, something inside of him snaped. “Y/n” He brought your knees higher on his sides, making you press against his skin.

His eyes went black, his antlers and body increased in size, and so did his dick as he was still inside you. Not enough to rip you apart, but considerably bigger than at the beginning.

Alastor's mind suddenly switched off, wandering in darkness for a few seconds, “Alastor! Ah!” before your loud whine brought him to clarity again.

He looked down on you, "Are you alright?" On the inside he was worried out of his mind, but he tried to seem - in his own words- cool, as he asked.

Tears ran down your eyes, your skin was sweaty and flushed, you were panting and moaning as you tried to make up an answer. He felt your legs trembling against his skin. “Something like that” you said out of breath, a week smile on your face.

"Please don't stop now, I'm very close" he wanted to please you, but when he looked down at in between your legs, as he decreased in size, his dick was now soft and leaking.

"I think it won't be possible dearest" you shook your head with a soft smile, "Don't you worry, come here" he didn't noticed how much of his strength his orgasm took away, until he relaxed his body nuzzling into yours.

“Are you sure it’s enough?” since you had already came twice, you felt that you didn’t need to be greedy, after all, it was his first time. “I’m sure” to your eyes he truly seemed happy.

It warmed your heart when he hid his face on the crook of your neck, looping his arms around your waist and legs intertwined with yours. "I suppose after this you won’t be allowing me to touch you for a week” he sighed, “Most likely” you felt comfortable, happy, his was another type of warmth, “Y/n” he spoke, kissing the red marks he left on your skin.

“I’m sorry for what I said, I really am” spotting his ear, you seized the opportunity to nip at it, gently but with a little force that caused him to dig his nails on your hips, and let out a whine.

“What was that for?” he pushed himself off to hover on top of you, not necessarily angry but bothered and hot, “To piss you off” he groaned at your amused expression, not having any fun with it despite his permanent smile, “You’re more than forgiven, will you accompany me to pay the mobster a visit?” he sighed, lowering himself to kiss your lips before whispering against them, “It will be my pleasure, darling”.

You two agreed to stay a little bit more time in bed before attempting to shower, despite his wish to take a bath with you, he felt too overstimulated to allow any more touch, which you respected.  

Little did you know, that the king found himself making a mess inside his pants, as he had watched the whole thing from the rim of the door. With the aid of his wings he scurried back to his room, his hand going up and down his dick in an attempt to soothe the aching.

“Y/n” he repeated, panting. In his mind he saw himself taking hold of your hips, your hair, hands, breast. Holding your whole being against him. He thought he knew angelic chorus sounds, until your moans proved him wrong.

His breath hitched cumming a second time into his hand, “Fucking bell hop, fucking bastard” he hit the back of his head against the wall he was leaning in.

The painting of his wife on the wall made him feel guilty about what he had done. Masturbate thinking about someone else? he had never thought about it when she was away. He didn't even have the strength to do it anyway.

At the end of a mental torture, he concluded that the kiss you gave him last night was not enough, he was going to make sure he didn’t lost you to Alastor, he just had to figure how to convince you to want to live.

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

Stay tuned ;3.

Part 8

[bxlladxnnabxtch]

Ghosting

SatoSugu x Reader

❀​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​❀

Summary: Instant teleportation can certainly come in handy on the battlefield. But when old tethers you're unable to disconnect form your technique suddenly decide to activate of their own accord, how will things pan out when it turns out to be an old lover behind it?

Warnings: Blood, cutting (it’s not like THAT you’re using a cursed technique), betrayal, yelling, js all around angst.

You felt the slice of something cut through you, and your heart sunk. Satoru could barely register how your face paled and your body grew taunt before he knew exactly what was happening. He couldn’t even stutter out a word before your form vanished from in front of him, and a pang of terror shot through him.

-

You stood in front of Suguru, breathing ragged and form shaky as you watched the blood drip from his hand. You tried to calm down your breaths upon seeing his hand sliced open, a wave of relief washing through you when you realized he was alive. Still here, breathing. He’d noticed your presence, his head tilting up as he nodded in acknowledgement. “You came.” Was all he stated, and those two words had your heart stuttering. You mentally slapped yourself for the way your body reacted to his voice, his tone noticeably lower since you had last seen each other. Your jaw clenched as you looked him over, his hair had grown considerably longer, and he seemed oddly calm considering his predicament.

You took in the knife sitting on the floor beside him, and deduced that he was the one that had sliced his hand open. Perhaps in an act of desperation, or dare you say love, but you couldn’t bear to think that there was any trace of love for you left. “You knew I would.” You said, your tone cold as you looked down at him, he looked up at you as if you were his savior. “Still as smart as always.” He spoke softly, and your eyebrows knitted together at his tone. You let the silence linger as you felt your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. “You had no right.” You shook your head, breaths stuttering as you felt tears begin to brim your waterline.

You bent down steadily to wrap his hand with the bandages he had deliberately prepared before he decided to use your technique against you. You could feel the thrum of cursed energy pulse through you in accordance to his wound throbbing. “I wanted to see you.” He whispered, not daring to make his voice any louder in an effort to not scare you away.

A rush of anger surged through you, and your hands slammed against his chest in a fit of rage at his comment. “You wanted to see me?! Really Suguru?!” Your voice raised, tears finally spilling down your cheeks as you wiped them away furiously. “You could have seen me every damn day! You could have been with me and Satoru and it would’ve all been FINE.” You hiccupped, a heavy sob leaving you as a hand came up to your chest, trying and failing to sooth the insurmountable ache strumming through you.

He watched the tears run down your cheeks with a grimace, his mind switching between the crushing guilt of leaving you two behind and his newfound ideals he’d stop at nothing to pursue. “You know I couldn’-“

“Couldn’t what?!” You yelled, looking him dead in the eye as you waited for his response, but continued when he stayed silent. “Couldn’t find the strength to stay for us? To talk to us? To think we cared at all?!” Your face contorted into a look of betrayal, tearing your eyes away from him as your tried to take a few deep breaths. “We were all struggling.” You said flatly, wiping away the remanence of your sorrow. “But me and Satoru didn’t decide to massacre a village because of it.”  You found the strength to look up at him again, the shine of his tears reflecting in the candlelight.

“So the next time you want to ‘see me’, or Satoru.” You got up, grabbing the knife from beside him. He made a move to stop you but you flinched away from him, shaking your head. “Remember that you chose this life. You chose it over Jujutsu, you chose it over your old life, and you chose it over us.” You looked down at the knife, the blade glinting in the light as you ran your fingers along it, feeling the sharp edge just barely grazing your skin. “Theres a lot of things I don’t regret about the time I spent with you and Satoru, but I do have two.”

You sighed, not daring to look up at him as you said your last piece. “One, that I ever allowed you to have a bond with my cursed energy. Maybe I’d have been able to avoid situations like this.” You shuffled; heart heavy as your lips downturned. “And two, that despite everything; I still love you.” You glanced up at him, finally bringing the blade to your palm as you have him a curt smile. “Goodbye Suguru.”

You pulled the knife back, slashing it down the center of your palm as you dropped the knife quickly. You felt the warmth of your blood beginning to drip down your hand, not paying it any mind as you tried to burn Geto’s features into your memory. Despite it all, you were still acutely conscious that this may be your last chance to ever see him again, and you hated it. He snapped up, seemingly realizing something as he called out to you. “WA-“

But you had already vanished, leaving him with only a few drops of your blood on the floorboards, and the phantom graze of your touch against his bandaged hand.

-

When you appeared in front of Satoru, he let out a gasp of relief, gripping your shoulders as he brushed some hair out of your face, looking you over for any injuries besides the gash in your palm. “Are you okay??” He asked frantically, if he was asking about your physical or mental state, you couldn’t tell, and to be quite honest you couldn’t care at the moment.

You stared down at the ground, willing, praying, hoping that the agony in your chest would disappear, but all it did was sink deeper into your gut like a boulder was weighing it down. You wrapped your arms around Gojos shoulders, the man bending down to accommodate your height difference as he wrapped his arms around your waist without hesitation, holding you against him as if you’d vanish again. You buried your head into the crook of his neck, a wail leaving you, and all to soon the tears came back, along with a flood of memories that you would never be able to relive or add to.

[dykedvonte]

idk if you've written any head cannons about this before but i'm curious what your thoughts are on arcades previous relationships

I think this is a very interesting question because we can even know if he had previous relationships? I don't know if you want platonic or romantic, so I will answer vague enough to fit both.

Arcade is a man that wants to be reserved and self-assured. When he first vaguely tells you about his past you can 100% tell he is very mournful of something and I really think its partly him not knowing his place in the world and being incredibly lonely. One of the ways you can recruit him is literally just by being gay and showing interest. That's not someone who is used to having deep, long lasting relationships of any kind. He never mentions friends his age growing up or otherwise and he is honest (once he opens up) about how he is considred too young to be taken seriously by the older remanents when enlisting their help (Imagine like trying to be friends with your much older aunts and uncles who like wiped your ass).

He is desperately trying to find a place and I feel like that applies to being among people as well, I mean he does hide himself in a tent with the followers. When I think of his past relationships I think of fleeting hook-ups or abrupt endings with him often being the one to do the skedaddling or walk of shame to wherever he was residing at the time. I say shame becasue I know he'd want to stay and get close but he's just too scared. It's understandable when 75% of the factions would want you dead due to your family lineage... even if you had no part of their actions. He has so much baggage and hang-ups I don't think he thinks it'd be worth it to unpack that with a friend or lover.

But since your asking what I personally think his fleeting, wasteland relationships were like here's my thoughts:

Most of his relationships (friendships and otherwise) started occurring later in his like, likely his early to mid-twenties. He had seen Enclave remnants be hunted and those who survived did so by staying alone...

His first friend was a wasteland girl who liked how well-read he was. It wasn't so much a traditional friendship but like two people who frequent the same places a lot. He provided the closest thing she was getting to an education and she provided pleasant conversation.

They barely knew anything deeper than each other's names or the topics they discussed but Arcade had never had a non-enclave friend before so it meant everything to him.

She was inspired to get a formal education and do something with her life and thanked Arcade before leaving to go do that. Arcade liked the feeling of helping and sought out ways to do that.

His first kiss is actually how he got into the followers in my head. It was the first chance he took to form a relationship outside the remnants and he wanted to follow him (him as in his lover). He wanted to join a diplomatic Follower group in the NCR and Arcade was terrified of being that close.

Following the last point it was a big blowout fight because Arcade refused to explain why he didn't beyond "Aren't we fine here?" and received a very harsh reading about his inability to open up.

His first actual boyfriend was a king gang member that liked to brag about how he was dating the smartest follower on this side of the wasteland. Arcade felt bad cause he knew he was only dating the guy cause he was crushing on The King at the time and the guy made him feel good with all the praise.

He broke it off under the guise that his work made him feel like he was being neglectful to their relationship and due to the kings' strong sense of duty/principles he understood

Gave Arcade his fav hair comb as a token of no hard feelings and Arcade felt extra bad cause it was like the one real and safe feeling relationship he had and he hated it was built on lies and half-truths.

Hence why he only tells the Courier half-truths, both is too much

After that he made a rule to only have FWBs and casual friends.

This worked as well as you think it did for a man like Arcade.

Most of the people he "dated" (weird coy flirting until he shut them out when they asked something deeper) were all people who wanted to go somewhere with him. He has a deep desire to live, experience and find himself but never has the courage to commit

This explains why you can so easily recruit him with flirting and promising to whisk him away into adventure. (Daddy issues much?)

All his "friends" were either the socially weird Followers who never asked much or people who were passing through and wouldn't question the random guy they hung out with for a bit knows too much about energy weapons or power armor or that old defunct faction that almost killed everyone with evil water... twice.

Silly Headcanons is he loves to rag and joke and is a little shit. He has a chip on his shoulder about how smart he is but he's never a direct jerk about

Not a touchy friend but he clings and hovers around partners and people he has a romantic interest in. Hand brushes, pats, standing close, and wanting to be very involved. Sad but he really wants a connection and even a small sign is enough to make him lose his sensibilities.

He hates it but he knows he's touch and emotionally starved so sometimes he allows himself to get a little lost in the love sauce.

Prefers friends and partners that are a little dumber than him. This has nothing to do with anything, dude is just attracted to idiots platonically or romantically.

This post is long just because I need to explain just how I think these characters think. Arcade is a guy who wants to be gay and own a garden and drink a glass of non-irrated wine with his friends while snarking to his partner. But he's also affliated with violent war crimminals and genocidal factins and settles for just trying to give that life to someone else.

[queenpiranhadon]

part two to this, some sensitive topics ahead

"You did what you could."

That's what everyone told you, the day you came back from the failed Kamino Incident.

Not only had you lost All Might, you lost Katsuki too.

Your Katsuki.

The boy you swore you'd do anyone for.

The boy who swore he'd do anything for you back.

Except he didn't.

Because you were here.

And he was there with them.

The League.

Villains.

It shook you to your core, to even think about it, to even wonder in the slightest if Katsuki actually joined them.

Willingly.

It made you sick.

Katsuki Bakugou, your best friend, your...your... could you even say that?

What was he to you? And what were you to him? Were you anything to him?

God, you'd do anything to have him back now.

The day you came back from the Kamino Incident, you were different. To the point where everyone truly wondering if it was really you or not.

Instead of the bright aspiring hero-in-training everyone knew you to be, you were nothing but an empty shell, a remanent of who you used to be.

Kirishima and Midoriya were close to Katsuki too, but they weren't as close to him as you were.

At least they could still keep fighting.

But everywhere you went, the ghost of Katsuki followed.

The common room where you feel asleep on him, the blonde tenderly stroking your back as he fell asleep too.

The kitchen where he cooked you meals, berating you for your poor appetite.

The dorms where you spent countless nights, talking about everything and nothing, savoring of feeling of simply just each other.

And then, came the thoughts, the doubts, the pain, and the guilt.

Crashing down on your like a inky black tidal wave that threatened to drown you with no way to swim back to shore.

Back to Katsuki.

Your classmates noticed how much you had deteriorated after that, tired dark circles underneath your dulled eyes, complexion paler from a lack of eating, and just the lack of life from your entire body.

But they left you alone. Because they figured you deserved to grieve.

Even a blind person could see truly how deep your connection to each other ran, and so to feel like much sorrow, it was earth-shattering.

They just didn't think it would get this bad.

Because one day, you didn't come out of your dorm in the morning.

A/N: No, reader isn't dead. Yes, I know this has some sensitive topics so just be wary about that moving on, if I do decide to do another part.

[galacticghoste]

What if there was a Au where Silho was a Science experiment

Was inspird by @head---ache drawing of Emmie found the idea cool

Here's a rough idea of possable story in this Au\/\/\/

Ok heres the story it will remain the same as my YouthLegacy Au but with a twist at around 3 years old Silhouette would be kidnap by Egg mans robots when she and her brother where in the playground on their own since it was in walking distance to their home.

The reason they went for Silhouette was the fact she looked more like her father and showed early signs of having his ability's as well as Amys strength

In the YL AU She would be rescued by her father and mother… BUT In this AU they failed to rescue her in time and Egg man would disappear for 8 years.

During that time her family and friends spent years trying to find her to no avail

Many wondered if its possible that she is dead Shadow and Maroon knew that wasn't true they could sense her still, they just weren't sure where

Maroon would feel immense guilt for not being strong enough to protect his own sister and freezing up that day

So what happened to Silho during those 8 years?????

She would be experimented on. Once Egg man realized she was more flawed then expected seeing that she cant go long without food or water, she needs sleep, plus she can get sick meaning she is likely mortal.

So instead of-trying to steal Maroon thinking its probably not worth the risk, he decides to change Silhouettes DNA to fit more into his vision of the ultimate life form.

It would eventually be a success using some Black arms DNA he came across a while ago and all the painful tests she had to endure over the years has made her vengeful and angry towards her family specifically her brother.

These test slowly and painfully turned Silho little more alien like with gaining a third eye and growing a tail and her blood becoming green.

During this phase where she was slowly becoming more alien like she would constantly grow very ill and weak seeing that her body could not yet accepted this new DNA her body was basically rejecting itself so Egg man needed to work quickly if she was to survive more test. She would eventually become stable and showed signs of her new self being different like now she doesn't need to eat or drink much water, or sleep and she can no longer get sick.

But she felt resentment towards her brother and her family .

For in her eyes they never even bothered to look for her and probably forgotten all about her. While her brother got to live a normal life she had to endure many test by force . Egg man feed into these feelings she has and told her lies to make her despise them even more.

After every test he would tell a lil lie about how her family doing great with out her and having the time of their lives telling her they don't need her or care about her.

But he dose he says that he saw potential in her and that if they really cared they would have gone to save her ages ago

Her strength was never an issue though she was quite powerful but egg man realizes she doesn't have control of this straights, so in turn but multiple inhibitor rings specifically made to limit her strength as well as her chaos energy since now with the new DNA in her body it amplified her chaos energy.

On her 11 birthday she would finally be allowed to leave on stealth missions for him.

These stealth missions later lead to rumors going around of a strange little girl causing trouble.

She never ran way and remans loyal to Egg man for in her eyes though he did terrible things to her she truly believes he's the only one who cares about her. Plus she knows theres no going back to her old life and her old-self.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Life Did Not Treat Us Well 🌙 | Harry Potter Imagine

set during the events of HP 3 & 7

HP Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: all platonic—Harry Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Severus Snape, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Minerva McGonnagal, Albus Dumbledore

Content Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, implied character death, cannon divergence | Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 6k

Premise:

When the dust clears at Hogwarts, Harry searchers for the one person who can relate to him, now that all close to his parents were dead. She was the last remanence of the family he could have had, if life had treated them well. Now they were two lost souls, carrying the weight of reality on their shoulders. But while Harry would one day greet death as an old friend, she was bound to the Earth forever.

-----------

Harry found his Godmother in the Astronomy Tower. Or what was left of it really. Seated on the edge with feet hanging off, the cool breeze blowing through her hair. As he got closer, he saw the blank look in her eye, staring out to the distance at the river and trees. Smoke from the fires sizzling out until disappearing forever. 

He announced himself as he approached, although Harry knew she was aware of his presence. “Thought I might find you here.” Coming beside her, Harry crouched and swung his legs off the ledge to sit next to her. 

“This used to be my favorite spot in the castle,” She replied without looking at him, but Harry heard the small smile in her voice. The tone one has when recalling happy memories. “I loved coming up here after hours to admire the stars. It was the one place I found solace in, and what I missed most after….” 

Harry understood what she referred to, tilting his head down. The question left his lips without thinking, “Did you ever hate them? Dumbledore, Sirius….Remus. At any point?” He glanced up with curious eyes, “For what happened that night.” The boy received a sigh, emanating the exhaustion she felt after the long, devastating battle. It was laced with grief and sorrow. Making Harry regret asking. He went to apologize but she cut him off. 

“To say I didn’t want to would be a lie,” the confession hung in the air, a tightening in her chest despite the weightlifting off her shoulders. “Especially in the beginning, Harry. It’s why many years passed before I returned home. I was enraged.” Turning to him, she pressed her lips together, “I feared what I’d do, and it didn’t help that my emotions were not only all over the place, but heightened and made me uncontrollable.” 

A shiver migrated down her spine, the memory of her early years after the transformation resurfacing. Along with the fear, guilt, and despair. Sniffing, she panned back to the river, “But you must know, I do not-- did not, ” she corrected with a crack, “hate Remus. Nor did I harbor any blame for what he did. He wasn’t in his right mind, as you’ve witnessed when there’s a full moon.”

Harry shuddered, thinking back to his third year. The night of many revelations. Sirius’ innocence, Peter’s betrayal, Remus’s lycanthropy…and Y/n’s vampirism. 

“But Sirius and Dumbledore…..”

He heard her sharp intake of breath, her voice growing lower, “It pains me to admit it, Harry, but…..I wanted to kill them. ” Of course that feeling disappeared a long time ago. After a long journey of reflection, acceptance, and resilience. Y/n forgiving Sirius for his actions that led to her nearly dying at the hands of Remus when she saved Snape from falling into Sirius’ trap. Their reunion in 1993 was a bittersweet moment. Filled with apologies and hope for the future. 

As for Dumbledore, part of her--especially now after everything that’s happened, after everything she’s lost, deep down Y/n wishes he had let her succumb to the injuries. 

“What do we do, Albus!” Madam Pomprey shouted, on the verge of hyperventilating as she attempted to aid the girl in front of her. Blood poured from multiple parts of her body as she laid on the bed. Withering, shivering, turning paler by the second. 

James and Sirius stood frozen in the corner, covered in Y/n’s blood from hauling her to the infirmary, watching the scene unfold with horror. Snape, laying in his own bed, mirrored their expressions as Professor McGonnagal tried to block his view. The older woman had a hand covering her mouth, “God be with us.”

Y/n groaned, face becoming drowsy as her body desired sleep. Madam Pomprey’s dress painted deep red, pleading to the headmaster with her eyes. “This is beyond my reach, headmaster. We must take her to St. Mungos.”

Albus refused, “She’s in no condition to apparate, nor travel by Floo. She’ll die before we’d set foot inside.” He thought deeply, glancing between the girl and his colleagues with an unreadable expression. Then, as though fighting the thoughts in his head, Albus sighed in defeat. “There’s only one way to save the girl.” As he reached into his pocket, retrieving the vial he’d grabbed on his way out of his office in case of the worst possible outcome, Albus motioned for Filch. “Send an owl to the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Tell them they must send a representative to Hogwarts before the sun rises--it is a matter of the highest urgency.” 

With a nod, Filch makes haste out of the infirmary towards the owlery. Leaving the remaining members of the group confused and worried. Minerva approaches the man, “The Department of Magical Creatures? What in Heaven's name are you thinking, Dumbledore? Remus didn’t bite Y/n--.” She then notices the vial in his hand, face dropping, “What is that?”

Albus briefly glances at the boys before focusing back on Y/n. Preparing himself for the negative reaction he was sure to receive. “ Vampire venom .” Air catches in all their throats, Sirius looking like he wants to throw up. The women gasp, Minerva absolutely appalled. 

“Are you suggesting turning the girl into a vampire?!” her voice carries with an unfamiliar tone no one had ever seen from the professor. It was like she didn’t recognize the man in front of her. In disbelief he even possessed the venom when only three known vampires were alive and located away from England. 

“It’s the only way to save the girl, Minerva.”

“That is illegal!” She shouted, making even Pompfrey flinch. James and Sirius felt their stomachs drop, hearts pounding against their chest. Seeing their head of House look genuinely frightened on top of their best friend dying ignited a fury of anxiety. Minerva stepped closer to Albus, voice stern, “If the Ministry doesn’t see fit to kill her they will surely send her away. They will remove her from Hogwarts--and her family! To be alone for all eternity,” Minerva’s heart already broke for the girl. Her favorite student and protegee. “If you do this you are sentencing her to a fate worse than death, Albus.” 

He was quiet for a moment, as if debating what to do. But then brushed past the woman to move beside Y/n, uncorking the vial. “Likely so. But it is a risk worth taking.”

Minerva had to turn away, squeezing her eyes shut to not watch the man do the unthinkable. Meanwhile James steps forward, sweat still beading his forehead and yells, “You can’t do that, headmaster!” Albus’ hand pauses in the air before it could pour the liquid in Y/n’s mouth. Glancing up to find James’s horrified face. The young Potter had read a bit on vampires along with the stories his father told him. 

The most notable details being vampires were hunted all over the globe to the point only three were known to be alive. Living off the grid and nomadic. And that not every human bit survives the transformation. More often they die before the venom reaches the heart depending on their state. 

Knowing this, James feared for his friend. “What if she doesn’t survive the change?” Albus simply looked at him and replied, “And what if she does?” James said nothing, gulping as he took his place back beside Sirius. 

They watched intently as the headmaster leaned over Y/n, gently parting her lips to open her mouth. “I am truly sorry about this, my dear.” Pausing, he glanced up to Pompfrey, “Clear the room. Anyone with open wounds and covered in blood will be her target.” With urgency, Pompfrey had the boys help her lift Snape out of the infirmary. Leaving only Minerva and Albus with Y/n, who was moments away from death.

“Are you sure about this, Albus?” Minerva asked one last time. Her eyes glossed over, saying a mental prayer for Y/n and for herself in the case the transformation works and Y/n attacks them in a bloodlust. 

Though sure of himself, Albus felt his heart skip a beat the moment he let the venom fall into Y/n’s mouth, “Regardless if I am sure…there’s no turning back now.”

“I hated them,” she voiced with emotion, picturing the moment she awoke to a new reality, Harry noticing the way her eyes glossed over. “Dumbledore especially. Sirius I forgave because at the end of the day he was just being a stupid kid who didn’t think his actions had consequences. But Dumbledore…I never looked at him the same again. After all, he was the one who made the choice. Yes, he saved my life, and you’d think I’d be grateful,” she shook her head, turning back to Harry with sorrow filled eyes, “but how can I, when he sentenced me to walk the Earth for all eternity. Stuck with the same face I had at eighteen. Never to grow old while those around me live their lives until death comes to greet them.”

And now she was the last Marauder. All of her friends were dead, leaving her alone in the world. 

Harry’s heart broke for his Godmother. With his parents, Sirius, Remus--and even Snape--gone, Y/n was the last person close to his parents living. The only family he had left--save for his muggle aunt and uncle who really could care less about whether he lived or died in the war. 

It was just him and Y/n. The Boy Who Lived and the Lone Vampire.

Harry thought back to the first day of his third year. The day he and his friends met Lupin. Enjoying their dinner with their house in the Great Hall and how curious everyone became at the mention of another guest roaming the halls.

The Frog choir had just finished their song, the room erupting into applause as Dumbledore took to his podium. 

“Welcome, welcome to another year at Hogwarts!” He announced with raised arms, “Now I’d like to say a few words before we all become too befuddled by our excellent feast. First, I’m pleased to welcome Professor R.J. Lupin, who’d kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.” He motions to the man, who stands from his chair to smile and wave to the crowd. “Good luck, professor.”

Beside Lupin, Snape offers three simple claps while remaining stoic, while the other teachers beam at the newest edition to their faculty. 

Dumbledore continues, “Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher for many years has decided to retire, in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. Fortunately, I’m delighted to announce that his place will be taken by none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid.” As the half-giant stands, shaking the table as he does, the Gryffindor table erupted into cheers. Some whistling and shouting with glee. 

“Finally,” The headmaster quiets the crowd, “on a more describing note. At the request of the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts will until further notice play host to the Dementors of Azkaban until such a time Sirius Black is captured.” Murmurs echo against the walls, students whispering in hushed voices. Faces painted with concern. Most notably Harry, who turns to his friends, also visibly worried. 

“The Dementors will be stationed at every entrance to the grounds. Now, whilst I’ve been assured that their presence will not disrupt our day-to-day activities…,” he pauses slightly, eyes catching a figure walking past the entrance of the Great Hall. Dressed head-to-toe in black leather, heels barely clicking against the pavement with how light her footsteps were. Behind Dumbledore, the demeanor of the entire faculty shifted. Lupin and Snape tensing, while Minerva visibly paled. 

The students, particularly the Golden Trio, took the change in behavior in regard to the Dementors & Sirius Black. Who could blame them really. Sirius Black was the talk of the town. Then there was the incident on the train with the Dementors. None were aware of the mysterious woman disappearing from sight as she passed the entrance to continue her journey throughout the castle.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, “A word of caution. Dementors are vicious creatures. They will not distinguish between the one they hunt and the one who gets in their way. Therefore, I must warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. It is not in the nature of a Dementor to be forgiving,” he pauses once more, lifting a finger, “but you know, happiness to be found even in the darkest of times.” His hand waves over a candle, distinguishing the flame, “One only remembers to turn on the light.” waving his hand again, the flame returns. 

“With that being said, we’ve taken the necessary precaution to further ensure your safety in the castle.” Albus glances over his shoulder and meets Minerva’s eyes, then quickly does the same to Remus and Severus before returning his attention to the crowds. All three appear nervous. Deep down, Albus feels the same, but puts on a fake smile. “We are pleased to welcome another guest to Hogwarts.” 

This piques the interest of everyone, and Harry straightens in his seat to look around the faculty for an unfamiliar face. However he falls up short, narrowing his brows in confusion. 

“A fellow alum, who’s recently returned to England after many years abroad. Miss. Y/n L/n…” murmurs once again fill the room, mostly laced with wonder when they notice Dumbledore had not motioned toward a woman to provide face to a name, like he did Lupin. Harry frowns, looking at Hermione who just shrugs in response. “Has graciously accepted the position of taking over nightly surveillance from Mr. Filch. She’ll be roaming the halls after curfew and is expected to report any and all suspicious activity. Including any students out of bed. Therefore, I advise you all to not leave your dormitories after hours,” Dumbledore’s voice suddenly turns serious, “unless you wish to receive the proper punishment.”

Off to the side Harry overheard the twins, Fred and George, mumble something along the lines of, “That’s rubbish. How are we supposed to see if she’s fit if she’s only in the castle at night?” A statement which had all the girls in proximity roll their eyes and glare. 

Ron leaned over to Harry, whispering loud enough for Hermione to hear, “that must suck. Imagine being the only one awake the entire night while everyone else is asleep. Quite a boring job if you ask me.” 

Dumbledore ended the announcement, expression slightly troubled, “Miss. L/n will not be joining us for day-to-day activities, her duty is required at night. 

While Ron and Hermoine fell into conversation as the feast began, Harry’s attention was rather occupied. Noticing something strange those around him failed to see. 

The guilty faces of his teachers. Including Dumbledore and Snape. 

It would be a few months into the term that Harry would first meet Y/n. Dumbledore wasn’t joking about her reporting all activity after hours. Several students had breached curfew. Some go to House parties, others to get a glimpse of Hogwarts mysterious security guard. Each was met with detention that week, and all were shocked having never spotted the woman lurking about the castle. 

It was as if she were a ghost. But even the ghosts of Hogwarts were lively. 

She was all but a mystery. 

It was a bad idea. He knew better than to sneak out of the dorms after hours. But seeing the name Peter Pettigrew, a man known to be dead on the Marauder’s map, Harry had to investigate. So, with his wand leading the light in front of him, he made his way into the halls toward ‘Pettigrew’s’ location. 

“Put that light out!”

“Sorry,” he apologized to the portrait, bringing the light in front of the map. There it showed Peter moving towards him. Harry paused, staying in his position while flicking his wand outward, but caught nothing in the darkness. 

His heart pumped faster, breathing heavily as he felt the anxiety rise. What was he supposed to do? Peter Pettigrew was supposed to be dead. What would it mean if he was alive? What did it mean for Sirius Black?

The footsteps on the map closed in on Harry, until they were right in front of him. Then Harry turned, lifting his gaze expecting to see the culprit but scared himself as he met his own reflection in a mirror. Confused, Harry looked back at the map to find Peter’s name scurrying away, turning the corner moving away from Harry. 

Then another name appeared.

Severus Snape approached the intersection of the opposite corridor, Harry mentally cursing as he waved his wand over the map, “Mischief managed. Nox,” the light went off, plunging him into darkness. 

Unfortunately he was a second too late. Severus non-verbally casts ‘Lumos’ and flashes the light in his face. “Potter,” he snarled. “What are you doing wandering the corridors at night?”

“I was sleepwalking,” was the first thing that popped into Harry's mind. A horrible excuse he was sure Snape wouldn’t believe but tried anyway. 

“Extraordinary like your father you are, Potter,” Snape muttered, tone laced with displeasure. “He, too, was exceedingly arrogant. Strutting about the castle.”

“My dad didn’t strut,” Harry sassed, “and nor do I.” Matching Snape’s hard stare, Harry never lost eye contact, “Now if you don’t mind, I would appreciate it if you lowered your wand.”

Almost like he was impressed with Harry’s attitude, Snape made a face, pointing his hand downward so his wand was directed at the floor. “Turn out your pockets.” When Harry didn’t move, Snape repeated the order sternly, “Turn out. Your pockets.”

Sighing through his nose, Harry removed the map from his hoodie, but did not offer it to Snape. 

“What’s this?”

“A bare bit of parchment.”

“Really,” Snape didn’t believe him. “Open it.” A second paused before Harry complied. Then Snape placed his wand directly over the parchment. “Reveal your secrets.” They watched as lettering appeared, revealing the names Harry already became familiar with but instead of a map, there was a message. “Read it.”

“Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs,” Harry began, briefly flicking his eyes up , “and Missus. Hops, offer their compliments to Professor Snape and--.” Harry cut himself off, unsure to continue as his eyes scanned over the next sentence. 

“Go on,” Snape drawled, and Harry lifted his head to look at him. 

“And request that he keep his abnormally large nose out of other people’s business.”

Snape saw red, “Why you insolent little--.”

“Professor,” Remus announced himself, Snape turning so fast Harry thought he ought to have whiplash. Black hair pretty much covers his eyes.

“Well, well. Lupin . Out for a little walk….in the moonlight. Are we?” 

Remus ignored Snape, offering only a smirk as he approached the two. “Harry. You alright?”

“That remains to be seen.” Snape, again, turned hastily and snatched the parchment out of Harry’s hands. Leaving the boy stunned. “I have just confiscated a rather curious artifact from Mr. Potter. Take a look, Lupin,” he extends his hand, allowing Remus to take it. “It’s supposed to be your area of expertise. Clearly, it is full of dark magic.”

Remus rolls his eyes at the accusation. “I seriously doubt it, Severus. It looks to me as though it’s merely a parchment designed to insult anyone who tries to read it.” His chuckle echoes. “I suspect it’s a Zonko product. Nevertheless,” he moves his hands away when Snape attempts to retrieve the parchment. “I should investigate any hidden qualities it may possess. “‘Tis after all, as you say, my area of expertise.” 

As Remus goes to have Harry follow him out, they are interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching, causing all three of them to freeze. Severus points his wand out, light emitting into the darkness. They follow the light as he points it in the opposite direction, where they see nothing. Then, as they turn back to the original direction they were facing, the three men stagger back when they’re greeted with the sight of a woman standing directly in front of them.

She was dressed in all black. Beneath her long trench coat, she wore a turtleneck, gloves, and heeled boots. Striking facial features. So youthful; skin clear and smooth like fine China, a jawline and cheekbones that could cut through wood and eyes void of color. They were a bright gray, nearly white. And the moment she spoke Harry noticed how white her teeth were. Reflecting against the light from Snape’s wand. 

“Gentlemen.” Her voice was feathery. Almost a whisper with a slight echo. Unlike anything Harry ever heard. She sounded far away despite being so close. 

Harry saw the way the men reacted to the arrival of their guest. Relaxed, but somewhat uneasy. Remus’s head slightly tipped down, “ Y/n.” Harry’s face contorted to shock, despite assuming the moment he saw the woman that it was Y/n. But what made the boy think otherwise was how young she appeared. As though she were a student and not faculty. Physically looking like she belonged with the seventh years. “Apologies for disturbing you this evening.”

Y/n’s expression was stoic, “Your apology should be directed to those hanging on the wall trying to sleep. Something you all should be doing as well.” Eyes flickered over to Snape, then to Harry, causing the boy to tense under her gaze. It lingered on him for a moment before returning to Remus, “It is not safe to be out at this hour.”

“Agreed,” Snape drawled, glaring at Lupin slightly. “We were all just leaving. Isn’t that right, Lupin?”

“Yes,” the DADA professor cleared his throat. “That’s right. I was actually going to request Harry’s company back to my office to answer a few questions regarding this item he came into possession of,” he waved the map in his hands. Casting a knowing look to Y/n, who merely raised a brow at the parchment. Then her lips curled up while lifting her hand. 

“Might I?”

At first he was hesitant, but then Remus slowly lowered the parchment into her palm, her delicate fingers taking grasp before analyzing the piece up close. “Well, well,” she hummed, a glint in her eyes. “What a peculiar thing. With a sense of humor.” She ignored the annoyed reaction from Snape, making Harry hold back a snicker. 

“Yes,” Remus murmurs with a small smile, but it’s filled with emotion as he looks down at her. When she met his eyes, the man straightened, clearing his throat. “Again, our apologies for the disturbance.” 

Y/n hands the map back, nodding sharply, “Quite alright. At least it was you all responsible for the noise.” She smirks, “I’d hate to report the Weasley twins again for the third time this week.” Remus chuckles and Harry smiles while Snape just rolls his eyes. 

“Been having your hands full, I take it?” 

A scoff escapes her, “Like you wouldn’t believe. These students are more rebellious than I imagined. Though I have to give it to them. They’ve become rather creative in their ways of sneaking out after curfew.”

Remus tilts his head, “More so than how we were,” he whispers so Harry doesn’t catch it, but knowing she would. Her nod confirms so, and Remus shakes his head with a chuckle. “Well I can only assume Filch is pleased to have the nights off now.”

“Oh, he makes it well known when we trade off at dusk.” They share another laugh, but she cuts it off when she spots Harry watching them with curious eyes. “I’ll leave you gentlemen to it then.” Her eyes traveled to Harry, making his breath catch as they lingered on him. Pinning him to his spot as he caught the way they softened. “It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Harry Potter.” 

The boy stuttered out a response, “It--it’s nice to meet you too, Miss. L/n.” 

“Please, call me Y/n.” She approaches him, stopping short and before anyone could react, she was lifting a gloved hand to his face. Gently brushing a finger over his cheek, causing Harry’s heart to skip a beat. Even with gloves on, her touch was chilling. 

Behind her Harry saw the professors stiffen, meekly sharing a glance. Then Y/n’s voice echoed once more against the silent, almost a kiss of a whisper. “My, don’t you look like your father.” Harry swallowed, processing her words which were nothing but a shock to him that the woman knew his father. Then again as she, with a pained tone, added, “But those eyes… those eyes are all Lily .”

Harry wanted to know more about Y/n after that night. About her relationship with his parents. How she knew Lupin. And Snape when she appeared no older than Percy Weasley. Why was she confined to patrol the halls of Hogwarts at night and could not join them during the day. He tried asking Lupin questions when they got to his office but the man was reluctant to answer. 

Harry had told Hermione and Ron of his interaction with the woman the next day. Igniting surprise in friends as well as curiosity. Hermione particularly found Y/n’s predicament quite questionable. And all the more suspicious when Harry mentioned her youthful appearance. 

“I’m telling you she knew my parents,” He said, placing the goblet on the table. Glancing up he was met with her penetrating stare, brows furrowed.

“That’s impossible, Harry,” she leaned over after checking to see if anyone was listening. “If what you’re saying is true, she’d have to be the same age as Lupin--in her thirties. The only other thing I can think of is she was a child whose parents were friends with yours. Are you sure it wasn’t just your eyes playing tricks on you?”

He shook his head, crossing his arms over the table as he thought back to the night’s events. “No. The way she and Lupin interacted…it was friendly, but tense at the same time. Same with Snape--like they were old acquaintances.” He sighs, scratching the back of his neck. “Whatever, you’re probably right. She must’ve graduated the year before we came here--that would make sense why Snape knew her too.” 

Hermione felt like something was still off, “but…you said she didn’t look older than Percy.”

“So?” Ron cuts in.

“So,” Hermione repeats with an edge to her voice, “It doesn’t make sense for her to be the same age as Percy, but graduated three years ago and knew Harry’s parents the way he’s implying she did.”

“Then she might be twenty or something,” Ron swallows a mouthful of food. At their expressions he lifts his hands with a shrug, “Look all I’m saying is some people age differently. There’ve been times where I can’t tell if someone is eighteen or twenty-five.” 

Hermione slumped in her seat, no longer feeling the energy to argue. Ron did have a point, but her intuition was screaming at her there was more to the story. She’d have to do some digging.

The Golden trio discovered many revelations the night Sirius Black came to Hogwarts. After Sirius dragged Ron into the Shrieking Shack, where Hermione and Harry followed them too, they were stunned to their core upon the arrival of Remus and Y/n. Hermione nauseated at being in the same room as Y/n once more. Having met her the night after Harry when she snuck out of the dorms to the library. It led her to investigate the years Harry’s parents were at Hogwarts, at the same time Snape assigned an essay on werewolves . Resulting in Hermione to uncover two shocking discoveries. 

And seeing the two with Sirius brought an overwhelming fear to consume her. 

“No!” She shouted, still blocking Harry from the three. “I trusted you! He’s a werewolf!” She points to him, glancing over her shoulder to her friends. “That’s why he’s been missing classes.” She gulps, moving her gaze to the woman beside Lupin. Her voice went lower, “And she….she’s a vampire .” The boys’ stomach plummeted, shudders running up their spines as their mouths went agape. 

Lupin was a werewolf. And Y/n was a vampire.

Lupin creeps closer, removing his hand from Sirius shoulder while Y/n stays put. “How long have you known?”

“Since Professor Snape sent the essay,” she pauses again, a cold chill upon her by the way Y/n was staring at her. Intimidating her with those blank eyes. “And when I found the yearbook from when you were all at school. She’s looked the same for fifteen years!” Hermione took a step back as Y/n moved beside Lupin. “Minus the eyes. It’s why she only walks the castle at night. And why Dumbledore’s been having blood from blood banks donated to madam Pomprey.”

The adults are impressed, Y/n holding back a laugh as she mutters, “Clever girl.”

Remus smirks, “Well, well, well Hermione, you really are the brightest witch of your age I’ve ever met.” From behind, Sirius loses his patience.

“Enough talk, Remus, c’mon. Let’s kill him!”

“Wait--!”

“I did my waiting!” The words echo off the walls, bursting out of Sirius's chest like an explosion. “Twelve years of it! In Azkaban!”

The night had been full of so much chaos. Not only was their professor a werewolf and nightguard a vampire, but Peter Pettigrew was alive and Sirius was innocent. Then Sirius revealed to Harry once they left the Shack that Y/n had actually been named Harry’s Godmother. Filling in the blanks Harry conjured as he tried to piece together the relationship she had with his parents. 

Sirius didn’t want to talk about the night she turned, but informed Harry that she’d left England by order of the Ministry. They put her on their record of living vampires and told her she’d have to request permission to return each time she wanted to visit. Sentencing her to a nomadic life across the globe. The one time she did come home was shortly after Harry’s birth when Lily managed to track her down. Three years after becoming a vampire, her self-control had improved. 

Their conversation was interrupted when the group had the horrifying realization it was the night of a full moon. Lighting up the sky as it broke through the clouds. Casting down its curse on the man bound to it. 

Harry will never forget the image of watching Remus in full transformation going toe-to-toe with Y/n’s true form. The black veins under her bloodshot, blackened eyes. The gray disappeared from the dilation of her pupils. Fangs protruding from her gums, jaw practically dislocated and hissing like a wild animal out for the blood she craved. The two ripping at each other’s flesh, their strength inhuman. Y/n obviously holding back to not kill Remus by accident, who was fighting her with the intent to kill given his mind was lost to the moon. If either of them bit the other it would end in tragedy. 

And while at the time Y/n had 15 years of self-control under her belt, there was always the risk she could lose it.

Even Snape was terrified. Seeing the creature in replace of the girl who saved his life all those years prior. A painful reminder of what could have been his reality. In the years following the incident Snape felt guilt and remorse for Y/n--who’d been the only one in James Potter’s friend group to show him kindness. Often scolding the others for their behavior. She was close to Lily and even sat with her and Snape in class or the Great Hall.

After the clouds cleared and the sun replaced the moon, Harry found himself in Remus’s office, alongside Y/n. It was the first time she’d been out in the daylight, though her body was covered head-to-toe, and sunglasses masked her eyes. Staying along the walls where the shadows seek shelter from the sun. 

“What happened?” Harry asked her when Remus left the room, but not before giving Y/n a friendly hug with the promise to write to her. She would be returning to Hogwarts, continuing her position as night guard. The Golden trio added to the small list of people aware of her condition. “How did you…” he bit his lip, unsure of the right words. “Become what you are?”

If she was bothered by the question, she was good at hiding it. Face never wavering from its expression. “It’s not a pleasant story to the ears, Harry. And I don’t,” she gave a sad smile. “I don’t want to ruin the image you have of your Godfather and Dumbledore--and even Remus.” That had him confused. 

Why would it ruin his image of them? Especially Dumbledore?

“You’re my Godmother,” Harry defended, still reeling in the happiness of knowing he had some family besides his abusive aunt and uncle. People who cared for him. “I want us to not have secrets with each other. I want to understand you--and know how to help you.” 

Y/n chuckled, bringing a cold hand to push some hair from Harry’s face that fell between his eyes. Gently stroking the scar on his forehead as she did so. “I’d expect nothing less from a Gryffindor. You were very brave last night. Saving Sirius and coming between Remus and I.” He flushed, rosy cheeks painting his face. Y/n sighed, removing her glasses so Harry could see her gray eyes. “What I’m going to tell you is not a story for the faint of heart, Harry. Remus, Sirius, Snape, your father….” her sharp inhale lingered a moment. “Life did not treat us well. And we’re still dealing with the consequences.” 

By the end of the tragic story, Harry was at a loss for words. Disbelieved by the truth of Y/n’s origins of becoming a vampire. Initially he thought the group had stumbled upon a rogue one and it targeted her. No, it was deeper and more personal. 

Sirius tried pranking Snape during a full moon. Snape took the bait. His father and Y/n went to save Snape from being killed and Remus attacked her. Leaving her half-dead by the time they reached the infirmary. And Dumbledore made the life-changing decision to transform her into a vampire rather than let her die. 

Sentencing her to a life of eternity, feeding off the blood of humans and to watch her loved ones die while she remained. The same face of an eighteen-year-old girl walking the Earth forever. 

Harry’s heart shattered. 

“What now?” came the question minutes later. Wondering how Y/n managed to stay at Hogwarts, working for the man she clearly loathed by the way she talked about him. Still angry by his decision. “Why are you staying when Sirius is free? Don’t you want to get away from here?” 

‘Away from the painful memories?’ He wanted to add. 

All he got was a shrug and a small smile. “And leave you?” His chest burst with emotion. A statement so simple, but worth a thousand words. “You’re my Godson are you not? Other forces are a threat to you, Harry. And I will not let your parents down.” 

And she didn’t. 

Four years later after that fateful night and here the two were sitting on the edge of the half-destroyed Astronomy tower. Overlooking the river while a lone Phoenix flew across the sky. Embarking on the silence, honoring their loved ones. 

Unsure of what future laid ahead of them, but one thing was for sure. Life may not have treated them well, but the best they could do was move forward. Not let the deaths be for nothing. Make sure the peace withstood to prevent another war. 

The history books would go on to write about the Boy Who Lived and his Godmother, the Lone Vampire. Her name and face, however, are hidden from the public eye. And as the decades pass more and more of her friends join the souls lost in the castle. Leaving only those lucky enough to cross paths to have a glimpse in their memory.

For she would forever be a mystery, with the moon and stars as her companion. 

[yourlocaltreesimp]

Totk!Link, about Y/N: You wanna know what I confessed in there? What my greatest sin was? It was how many times I let them down.

۵♡۵

Yan! Chain, your cult, with additional members is so much more that it’s difficult to wholly sum up. But I will try.

NOT their official hcs for this page, those will be written at a later time.

Tears

I subscribe to the belief that this man is feral. He knew who you were and that you were his guide immediately and fell pretty much immediately. On grounds of sanity, he doesn’t have much. The malice and gloom swirling in his blood did it’s number on his sanity to the point he was already a madman when the chain happened upon him, not that it was readily apparent though. Before, he made the obligation to his forced status as hero. Polite, helpful, strong, silent, You get the deal. But boy oh boy, that shit went down the drain faster than a korok on a rocket. Once his eyes caught yours and he was returned to your side, he could care less of Hylia or the Triforce, let alone Zelda. Link had a new deity, a new purpose, a new person for which he was wholly devoted for. Only this time around, his deity smiled back at him, his reason for living thanked him for his sacrifices and his utter devotion towards keeping them alive was something he yearned to do. To have blood staining his hands as you fall asleep safely within his arms… arm, but that’s aside the point

First

He struggled to remember your guidance, he’d admit. Your kind smiles and expansive wisdom blurred in his memory, like a candle snuffed out. He could see the remanents, those smoky memories proof that your familiarity was well placed…. but he never got to see the warmth that you had. But it was when the flame in his heart was relit that he remembered exactly why he forgot you. And boy was he livid. Hylia stole his life, his freedom, that which he knew. But Hylia also stole his love, bitter that you held it instead of her. And so, you were ripped away from him too soon. And of course, he suffered in Hylia’s wake. Afterwards, he’d do anything possible to stay by your side, to cherish you as you deserved. The goddesses were dead to him, you were far more deserving of that place. He’d worship the ground you walked on if you asked, bring Hylia kneeling before you and strip her of her immortality if that’s what you wished as vengeance. In long and short, no matter the cost, he’d be there.

Fierce deity

He didn’t really know you per say. He knew of you, though. He knew of you rather well. He watched behind his companions eye, learning all he needed to know about you. Learning the planes of your face and curve of your body. The nuances of your personality and tells of your ways. He memorised you, so that even as many moons passed and you became dust, your face would be fresh in his mind. Fierce had grown accustomed to confinement, stuck as another entity lodged within the Hero of Time, spirit locked away within the mask, stuck as nothing more than a war deity no more useful than the lives he could reap. But you made him long for more. To be by your side, to be your safe haven, to be worth more than a tool. He wanted to be yours, for that was far more valuable than immortality.

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - implied n0n/c0n, imprisonment, and unhealthy relationships.

Cloud Retainer does not often visit you in her human form.

Or, the form she so generously modeled after her human peers, rather. She loathes it when you refer to her by such demeaning terms, when you suggest that she might be at all comparable to mortal beings who wouldn't know true adeptal power from a charmed talisman or the cursed remanents of some dead, grudge-holding god. Sometimes, when you're feeling brave, you attempt to remind her that she thought highly enough of mortals to take one as a lover, but she's never cared for that. As it turns out, immortality may make you wise, but does very little to nourish your sense of humor.

It hasn't made her very affectionate, either, as grateful as you are for her aloofness. When she does find her way to the abode she's imprisoned you inside of, to the vat of amber where she keeps you untouched and unaging, she often presents herself as she does to wayward travelers and wandering pilgrims - with feathers and talons, wings and eyes the color of the unblemished sky.

She brings you gifts, mechanisms of her own creation and jewelry brought back from the harbor, and she stays for hours, sometimes days, telling you of Liyue and her disciples and holding you underneath an extended wing - playing house until she's forced to leave your side once again. Those are the times you find yourself the most comfortable with her, when you know she wants nothing save for your company. Even that, you'd rather withhold, but it's not as if she's ever given you much of a choice.

It's not as if she's any more bearable, when she comes expecting more. When she arrives on two legs, with skin rather than feathers, with arms instead of wings - those are visits you've truly come to dread. Her touch is caring, but cruel, her nails prone to burrowing into your skin as she dotes on you, her teeth likely to flash from beneath soft lips as she presses delicate kisses into your neck - trying her hand at mortal shows of adoration. She rarely has any interest in talking, and it isn't a question of how long she'll stay, but of what state you'll be in when she does, of whether or not you'll be able to put yourself together again by the time she comes to see you next. Of how much blood will be left on your sheets by the time she has her fill of your--

Cloud Retainer does not often visit you in her human form.

It's all you can do to be thankful that she's overcome by mortal weakness so rarely.

[nearer-than-the-eye]

the world is dead and dying says the ghoul. the world is corrupt and corrupting. wastes and mutations and destruction. and lucy maclean comes on stage and he says you’re from the old world, you won’t make it here. everything green came from the old world, and everything green is dead.

but lucy’s mother’s name was rose! lucy isn’t from the old world. lucy is the new world! a flower watered by blood! she’s not the thing that killed the old world, nor is she a shattered remanent living in its aftermath. she’s a new thing. she grows and adapts and changes while keeping her golden core.

reclamation day is a lie but so too is the ghoul’s overwhelming pessimism—shady sands was real. it, too, is lucy’s inheritance—her burden, her sin, her hope, her possible future. lucy lived her whole life governed by futurity, and ghoul has given up on futurity entirely. they were equally stagnant. IT SURE WOULD SEEM that together, then, they might find a way towards living in the new world, a sustainable present that continues to evolve.

[acaribeau]

Ch 16 wasn’t the first time we traveled back in time

And I'm not talking about NB

Theory time! (And a little rant)

Too much text incoming

What if I tell you that the timeline that we see in cannon (specifically S1) wasn't the first time we lived that year? What if we repeated that year over and over until it came right, not for us (and definitely not for the neckless MC that died in Mammon's arms) but for Diavolo?

You don't believe me? Well, I have a theory...

In multiple times, the brothers had told us that "they wouldn't do something like that for a random human".

But they had, indeed, showed too much attention and attraction to a random human. (Yes, MC isn't completely human but if Angel!Lucifer couldn't see what they were, they just saw a random human with a nice soul). Some of them didn't do pacts at all.

Even Lucifer was flirting with MC (in the form of dead threats like a good demon 😈)

What if that was the remanant of the feelings that they built in the previous time-lines?

But Barbatos vowed to never use his powers... Wrong!

Yes, he vowed to never see the future again... For himself. Diavolo can have totally control over them, over Barbatos. He's his butler and he has vowed to serve him. If assuring the succes of the exchange program (the first step to Diavolo's dream of interdimensional peace) wasn't important enough to use his power, when could they use it?

Barbatos already used his powers in front of everyone in ch16. But... Wasn't too ideal that he knew that MC only needed 5 pacts? As if... He already saw them open the attic before? How did he knew he needed to warp time? Because I'm not going to buy that he leaded MC to Mammon's room by accident. How did they knew (or even suspect) that MC were descendant of Lilith? (And that we could revive magically by her).

Barbatos, ordered by Diavolo, rewinded time and time again that year for assure that neither of the exchange students died in that year (any dead could mean war, depending of how good is the relationship with the Celestial Real. We already saw the threats that Michael send to Diavolo through Simeon in S2).

And like a cerise in a cake, end that annoying and dangerous 'hate for humans' of Belphegor. (And assure again the loyalty of all the brothers for Diavolo at letting them know the reason behind Lucifer's pact was to save their sister)

All ended too good for Diavolo. But for achive that, MC had to gain the affection of the brothers, little by little, or one by one. By the time the cannon is happening, Barbatos already knows what to do without seeing the future...

Of course I'm not saying that all the pacts were for his direct intervention. Mammon's and Satan's were for prophecies (arguably Levi's. When have you seen Barbatos left something dirty for more than 5 seconds? But he wasn't in Levi's competition, so Mammon slipped... but that could be thinking too much) but he helped planning the retire for doing Asmo's pact (remember that they are very close friends, how could he not know how to push his buttons? He could even ask Solomon to lend MC his magic if he wasn't planning it).

And of course, probably that's how they knew about the prophecies of TSL (and why Diavolo avoided the final act, and made Simeon rewrite it), seeing things that no matter what he did, there were thing that always happened. Not in the same way, but inevitable and unavoidable things.

Now! For finishing this :

We all know how OM like to insert the media (normally Levi's animes and games) with long and uncannily titles that adjust too perfectly to the situation they are living.

Poor MC with so many prophecies in their life, I don't know how they aren't paranoid in all their elections.

So... Diavolo said this in a chat.

The actual theory

There were routes. Bad ending routes. We died many times, and in at least one we survived thanks to friendship Lilith's magic and freed Belphegor (in the same or separate timelines). We said what she told us, but something was incomplete, something was wrong and we died again.

Then Barbatos did the little things that could done to be sure that we made the pacts. The moment MC had the 5 pacts, an MC from another timeline came, opened the attic and returned to their timeline (because this Barbatos wasn't an asshole and made the portal door close to the attic).

Belphie, Beel and MC go to PH.

Belph is a prisoner.

MC didn't die.

Lilith doesn't tell them their message (No good Belphie here 😔 only hate).

Then, as things weren't as good as they could be, Barbatos decide to... Expand his options, bending time. How? Well... Being an asshole Making MC to change the past.

He knows MC has to die to "speak" with Lilith and a Belphie filled with blame of killing 'a part of' Lilith again is a good Belphie. A Belphie that won't start a masacre or war in the human world. So, he sends MC to Mammon's room, directly to the past brothers (why risk that MC could be sneaky enough to avoid them in the Hall? Throw them directly to them!) And the rest is history...

So... The questions that we all are thinking (or at least me)...

Will OM! Music Nightbringer give us that bad ending routes?

Will they connect that past-timeline with the present OM, doing this theory semi-accurate or completely wrong?

Will they finally explain the limits of Barbatos' powers? Or is he an ancient god without limits?

Were Mammon's instantly crush in MC product of a past timeline that neither of them remember?

Were Diavolo and Barbatos assholes? Yes

Will Simeon fall?

Will I ever overcome my ADHD and procrastination and write a fic about this theory?

Did I overthink too much an Otome game?

[kivaember]

re: drabbles: i would be interested to see any kind of take on what life in the PCA is like; the EKDROMOI and HC/LC-HM duos in particular always seemed like funny Just Guys Being Dudes dynamics

OH I LOVE IDEAS LIKE THESE... i ended up just going on a ramble dear god... uh i hope you enjoy! a bit of worldbuilding for PCA and RLF (with a surprise Flatwell mention!)

Thanks for the prompt!

When Erik had been handed his posting for Rubicon-3 (or "ISB2262" as most within the UEG knew it), his first dismayed thought had been: i've hit a dead-end in my career.

See, the PCA were not viewed favourably within the UEG's pilot corps for a multitude of reasons, ranging from their infamous reputation as "space cops" to the fact that their direct chain of command was an actual, literal AI called The System, and whom many within the PCA spoke of as if she was their divine god that had descended from heaven itself to guide them.

Also, there were no glorious battles with the PCA, no chances for winning spoils of war during inter-corporate conflicts or achieving swift promotions by looking good at the right moment. All you did in the PCA was sit on some quarantined rock - normally out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere - and weren't allowed to take souviners or salvage anything profitable from the surface. It was basically guard duty but for years.

At least with guard duty on solar colonies you had some form of civilisation to visit. On Rubicon-3? Civilisation had been razed into nothing but ashes after that catastrophic industrial accident almost fifty years ago, and the remanents were just a ragtag group of stubborn colonists who refused to relocate because this is our home! Nevermind that their home was basically a hole in the ground full of contaminated soil.

Needless to say, Erik's expectations had been low when he reported to the PCA's main base on Rubicon-3. The planet had looked ugly when he came in, the atmosphere riddled with enough chunked up asteroids to make navigating the mess an absolute nightmare for the autopilot and what little surface he glimpsed looking grey and lifeless. The oceans looked good, at least, but Erik didn't have gills, and he doubted he'd be spending any time on their blasted-out beach resorts.

His expectations had been this: he'll sit in whatever passed as their guard room watching the live feed from their defence satellites, bored out of his mind except for moments of fleeting excitement when some wildcat miner came barrelling towards the planet in delusional hopes of striking it big with a Coral deposit. The nights would be long, the days even longer, and he'll be cold, miserable and wondering when he'd be posted out so his career could start again.

Instead, reality had been this: piloting the most advanced MT he'd ever sat in, wielding the most powerful weapons he'd ever laid hands on... yet trapped in an endless struggle against ye olde BASHO ACs on a near regular basis like he was in Hell and this was the ordeal he was condemned to endure for the rest of his afterlife.

The Rubiconian Liberation Front. Erik had heard of them back on Earth when he was in the UEG's main pilot corps, but no one had thought them as any serious threat. Just a group of colonists who had hijacked a construction MT or two and occasionally threw rocks through the PCA's figurative windows. They weren't a real threat. They were just civilians with guns. They'd be scared off easily just by shooting a few warning shots their way.

Wrong.

They were like rabid racoons that refused to leave the PCA's dumpsters. Almost every night, Erik and his squad would be crashed out when the perimetres alarms would trip, and almost every night he'd be chasing after RLF ACs and MTs running off with whatever the hell they could carry. Telephone poles. Copper wires. Vehicles like jeeps or vans. One of them had ran off with a fucking HVAC system once and to date Erik was still baffled about that.

But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was him.

Middle fucking Flatwell.

The RLF leadership was a bit strange, but every PCA pilot knew of Flatwell. He was a Gen Three and had been part of the Rubiconian militia as a qualified, albeit green, AC pilot when the Fires had hit Rubicon. Guy was likely pushing seventy and still piloted rings around the PCA like he was bioengineered in some fucking lab somewhere to be the bane of their existence.

The System - their chain of command, their AI - knew everything it could dig up about Flatwell. His AC schematics, his habits, his history, his fighting profile and even including some interesting yet bizarre factoids like 'has a legitimate Earth citizenship due to successful seduction of a high-ranking Arquebus executive' and 'suspected illicit affair with an intelligence officer within Arquebus HQ', which meant not only was Flatwell a demon in the AC, he was a demon under the sheets too, forbidden knowledge that Erik could've gone without knowing.

But forbidden knowledge or not, the simple fact was: Flatwell was a damn good pilot, and most of the PCA pilots were just average.

In high-tech MTs and using even higher tech weaponry, sure, but still average. But, when Erik had been new to the post, had been dazzled by these amazing MTs and beautiful plasma weapons, he'd charged headfirst into a fight against Flatwell without hesitation, ignoring The System's soft bleat for him to use caution.

Needless to say, Erik had totalled that shiny MT and ended up ejecting before even a full thirty seconds had passed. Guy was fast.

Fortunately, however, the PCA were a lot more forgiving when it came to totalled MTs. Back in the UEG that would've come straight out of Erik's paycheck, as all repair bills did (he was still paying off his previous repairs... just thirty more years and he'd be debt free!) - but the PCA had brushed it off. Turned out they had a pretty sweet fabrication system and could churn out MTs in the hundreds within hours. Where they got the raw materials for that, Erik wasn't so sure... but the PCA were a branch of the UEG, so it was probably legitimate and not at all illegal or suspicious.

(One of the first rules you learn in the PCA: do not think too deeply about how it functions for legal reasons)

But, while the posting was leagues more exciting than he had initially believed, and incredibly more dangerous, his initial dismayed thought still held true: it was a career killer, because here was another, hidden rule he hadn't known until his boots were firmly on Rubicon-3 and his transporter was flying away from the planet:

Once you're on Rubicon-3, you die on Rubicon-3. No transfers, to retiring, no early-release. The PCA's mission was lifelong and no amount of bellyaching or protesting wold change that. Erik had been sprinted through the five stages of grief before he accepted his grim fate.

Maybe he had died on the way here, he had thought. Maybe this was his punishment for contributing directly to the voracious war machine that was the UEG... how many unionised workers had he killed over the years? How many colonies had he visited to stomp down on burgeoning independent movements so corporations didn't lose a source of revenue? How many had he stomped down on, just for his own continued comfort within the callous galaxy that humanity had made for itself?

Rubicon. It really made you think about these things. Erik slowly began to understand why the PCA's relationship with the RLF was how it was. Yeah, they crashed out every night, and yeah, sometimes Flatwell was there waiting for them, but most times...

Erik would crash out with his squad and only chase the thieving RLF a few miles before breaking off pursuit. He told himself there was no point. What they stole could easily be replaced within a few days. It wasn't as if they were stealing weapons or whatever. If they wanted a fucking HVAC system or a bunch of telecommunication wiring that badly, then they could have it. No skin of Erik's nose, and the PCA didn't bill him for failure to retrieve stolen goods.

He didn't sympathise with them, and the RLF certainly didn't sympathise with the PCA. They killed a lot of each other over the years Erik had been posted here, and Flatwell was particularly merciless. But.

They were both stuck on this planet, either willfully or not. They were both on Rubicon-3 for the long haul, and one way or another, they were gonna share the same fate: they were going to die here, eventually.

They were never going to leave this razed shithole.

[christinebloodwrittings]

To hunt or be hunted #6

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader x Lucifer Summary: Bickering, divorces, life and death matters, after-life is so dynamic! Warnings: A little bit of angst.

Hazbin Taglist: @sakuraluna2468 @boogiemansbitch @mysterypotatoink @sibsteria @cherry-cola-100 @readergirlstuff @phoenixica24

Sorry for taking too long, next part will have smut.

The spell had worked far too well, your unconscious and inner instincts were brought to the surface. Meaning: when Lucifer turned around in bed, fast asleep of course, you pulled him back as the big spoon, hugging him close.

The problem started when you squeezed him too much, the pained expression in your face hurt him, he didn’t understood why, but it did. “It’s okay, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere” could it be that you suffered just as much as him? The need for someone was a type of suffering he wouldn’t wish for anyone, not even the worst of sinners.

He leaned close to your face, cleaning your tears away, when suddenly you started making a loud sound, with vibrations coming from your throat, almost sounded like a motorcycle engine tying to start. But then it hit him, like a flying brick no less.

You purred!

Immediately a smile that attempted to break his whole face was drawn in his face, he was terribly tempted to do more things to make you purr.

Your body has a biological clock that started developing seven years ago, matching Charlie’s clock and insane routine. But that morning, your body wouldn’t take the hint and move, you were too busy enjoying the remanent of rem sleep to bother with affairs of life.

Meanwhile, Lucifer was overworking his head thinking what if he gave you too much of a dose of the spell? He did the amount he gave Charlie as a child to help her sleep. Or maybe you were far too tired, that and the spell put you in the state you were in. He sighed, fixed your position to avoid atrophies, then started his routine.

He took over breakfast duty, making pancakes, he found a box full with cards, written on them old recipes with scratched pencil notes around. He smiled following your instructions for the protein shakes for Vaggie and Angel, finding them rather flavorful.

“Woah thanks dad, is Y/n okay, though?” Charlie became suspicious when there was a strange radio silence when she greeted you good morning, as always, and suddenly his father was early doing breakfast, when he didn’t rouse out of bed before noon.

“Yes, but let the poor thing rest okay? She was a bit worn” the dining room fell silent.

“How ya’ know that? Scandal” Angel winked at him, “I wonder what else is cookin’ in the king’s chambers” Husk slipped, earning a slight kick on his ancle from Alastor across from him at the table.  

“We slept together last night, not in a weird way of course” Lucifer tried to be as cheery he could to hide his enthusiasm, clearly not helping Charlie’s cold feeling going up and down her body, and Alastor’s neck vein almost ready to pop and ruin his coffee.

“Dad, no” she knew the condition of your deal, one more year and you’ll be as dead as she will, literally. “What do you mean?” she had to swallow her concern to shape it as a ‘Dad I don’t think your new girlfriend is going to stick’ act, like a true divorce trauma kid.

“I mean it’s Y/n, okay? She’s often unpredictable and a very closed up person” all eyes went on Charlie, suspicion, what else was she not speaking of? Not they got a reason to doubt. “Well, She’s rather sweet when she wants to” she knew that, but that was not the point, “Yes, but…don’t get attached, that’s all”.

Lucifer burrowed his eyebrows, “Why would you say that, Charlie?” she easily begun to loath how weird her own name sounded entwined with his father’s hurt voice, “I just don’t want you to get hurt, if she someday…leaves, okay?” to just mention the incident brought a pain in them that Alastor would enjoy any other day, but you, he slept with you, now that was a thought hammering in his head non-stop.

“I won’t kiddo, I’m the big boss remember?” his happiness couldn’t make him glow more than he already did, it pissed the Radio man, but his coffee took a detour to his lungs when Angel asked with a mischievous wink, “How was she like, shorty?” he embraced the pain of holding the impulse to cough out of reflex, Lucifer noticing that he smiled and ‘innocently’ finished cutting Alastor’s head off, figuratively. “Very warm and soft” ‘bastard’ Alastor thought.

As Lucifer prepared your plate of pancakes, also frying some bacon, one of Alastor’s tendril’s flew inches passed his cheek, striking the wall in front of him.  

“If you want to kill me, this is the wrong way to do it buddy” He didn’t flinched, nor moved at all, he just casually flipped the bacon, not even bothering to see the enraged demon behind him.

“What did you do to her?” his distorted voice echoed though the walls, “I simply wanted to sleep a bit better, and boy I did, her body is so soft, it’s exactly like falling asleep on a cloud” suddenly their faces were dangerously close, Alastor’s eyes had gone completely black, his mouth dripping a green gooey looking liquid.

“If you hurt her-” the radio demon got interrupted by the king’s mock laughter, “Since when you care about someone that isn’t yourself?” that hit him hard in his honor, “That’s for me to know, pest, stay the fuck away from her” he noticed his intimidation wasn’t really working, so he fumed down into his regular form.

“Mister deer is feeling threatened? Or even better, jealous?” Lucifer took the crispy bacon out of the pan, plating it into a separate dish from the pancakes as the demon laughed,  “HA! You wish, she’s a darling friend, I just would hate to discover she has a bad taste” he emphasized the word friend, his mouth burning like acid being poured onto his tongue.

Alastor was about to leave the room, but Lucifer’s tone turn into a heavily severe one, “You better step up your game pal, she came out of your room crying and insanely alert” the radio hist froze in place, “I don’t know what you did, but I doubt she’ll forgive you” Lucifer came into view, holding a silver tray.

“My advice, apologize, from your non-existent heart” Alastor rolled his eyes, “Apologizing is for the weak and the stupid” the king moved past him, levitating a tea pot, poring freshly made tea into your designated mug, “Perfect, you’re being both”.

“If I find out that you caused her to cry again, I will erase you” he switched back to his cheerly attitude, so easily that it took Alastor out of guard, “Do he have an understanding, fawn?” the insult rolled out Alastor’s tongue as easy as breathing in response, “Fuck you”.

“I’ll take that as a yes” just as Lucifer was taking his leave, Charlie opened the door, “Is everything okay here?” his father smiled and patted her shoulder, “Yes! Matter of fact, Alastor here offered himself to take over dish duty while Y/n’s resting” he then left a very Alastor fuming and a shining in happiness Charlie.

When he opened the door of his room, you were sat on the bad stretching, “Oh golly, you’re awake!” your hair was messy, pajama shirt falling off your shoulder, “I was afraid I had over done it; how do you feel?” he made his way to you, setting the tray on the nightstand, handing you the tea cup.

“Like I was ran over, I don’t think I’ve ever slept that soundly in my life” the bitter taste of the tea made it to your mouth, you immediately felt better. “I bet, I made you some pancakes, I got fruits and bacon in case these aren’t enough” he sat next to you handing you a bite piece of pancakes on a fork.

Fussing, you opened your mouth and allowed him to feed you, “How is it? Maybe I added a little too much sugar” too much sugar, but when food is made with care it shows on the taste. Worst thing happened when you started purring, your hand went straight to your throat, “Ignore this, please, it will go away on its own”.

Lucifer smiled lovingly, “Well I have to say, I was pretty surprised when I first heard you purr, I thought you had a monstrous snore, but even if you did it was pretty cute” he giggled, again you were flabbergasted, how many times you could be in less than 12 hours?

Everything, is that weird? Everything you knew about him, what the nuns of the convent you winded up in told you, was awfully misguided or it was just one side of the moon. That one was a funny one, you killed a mob boss, and then ran away with a bullet stuck on your knee, thank god adrenaline is a serious booster. A nun found you bleeding on the statue of whomever saint that was, and offered you housing.

When they started yapping about how submissive a woman should be to a man, you ran away.

“Oh, sorry, was it something I said? Does it taste that bad?” he must’ve seen you spacing, otherwise his anxiety wouldn’t had shown up. “It’s been a while since someone had cooked for me” if you had a tail that could wag, it would be doing it.  

“How long?” he tucked a lock of his golden hair behind his pointy ear, for some reason you wanted to do that. “Since I was around…fifteen” his expression looked pained, “That’s so sad, I’m not an expert cook, but I can take over if you’d want me to” you took another bite, they were too sweet but fluffy and crispy on the edges, it was delightful.

“It’s okay, I like to have a function, makes me feel useful” looking down at his hands, he wasn’t wearing his gloves, his fingers had burnt spots and old cuts, looking around at the ducks in the room kind of gave you an idea.

“I understand that, now please eat, you will feel the pain of hunger if you don’t” his intoxicating good mood was starting to rub off on you.

He happily told you that you could use his shower and whatever you needed, he insisted when you reminded him that your room was down the stairs, you didn't want to continue arguing with him so you gave in.

You materialized clean undergarments and uniform, while the citrusy caramel smell of his shampoo was delightfully replacing your lavender normal scent. Now what was on the devil’s mind when he offered? Nothing, he was being nice, but he hoped to have you as his guest in his chambers more often, so the least he could do was being a good host.

The door opened, your hair up in a wet bun, you wore a black shirt with white leather straps, a pair of black dress pants and brown high knee boots. He enthusiastically offered to do your hair, glowing like Charlie did when she offered the same a few years back.

He had you sat on a stool while he blow-dried your hair and combed it.

“Going back on taking over, I may need you to, I won’t be here for dinner” you spoke, remembering a certain rendezvous you had later, “Lady’s night?” the Goetia had a reunion, sadly since you had killed some of them, you had also inherit their titles (On paper) so making an appearance was mandatory, otherwise they would drag you from wherever you were, like last year.

“Something like that” you dismissed the subject, “I’ll compensate you for it, you can go crazy but leave everything clean, otherwise Nifty will have your head” he hummed in agreement as he ate a piece of fruit that you left on your plate.

“Hey” you called for him, softly, before he could turn around, you hugged him, having to lean down a little given the height difference, “Thank you, for last night” since your arms were across his chest, he took your hand and placed a kiss.

“I’ll be returning late tonight, there’s no need for you to wait up for me” he feared you would be too tired to walk up the stairs to return to his room, “You know you can…come back, right? Here, I mean” you nodded, “Yes, I’ll slip in between, I just don’t want you to wait me up” he turned in your arms and gave you a good squeeze,  “Okay”.

🍎📻

Being the chef wasn’t your only obligation, it was also the tobacco distribution company you owned. At least in the pride ring, you were the only supplier.

Valentino, as annoying as he could be, was your highest buyer. No matter how much he wanted to fight you he can’t, otherwise he would have to arrange deals in between the rings of Wrath and Greed, the paper work that involves that would take a literal eternity to sort out.

The main fabric is managed by an Imp. Anyone could ask why, if hell-borns are known for being untrustworthy, but she was the only hell-born who willingly asked you to work for you, (Demanded is a better term), she was also loyal and hardworking. The rest of workers were souls who are under contract via soul.

Like other overlords, you managed them under a schedule and a monthly salary, what makes you stand out is the free housing on fabric grounds, health insurance, strict conduct policies and a safe work environment.

It was a known fact that Valentino does not offer health insurance…He should, though.

You had another set of obligations, with the Goetia.

After the duels that cost the clan three members, you were brought to a meting with tons of paper work. Then a mock ceremony with Paimon naming you part of royalty of hell. All with a ‘what the fuck’ face, because the three nobles forgot to mention that detail.

It was a very old tradition in their clan, that the winner of any official duel earns the titles, lands, possessions and current income of the defeated. So you got royally screwed.

You were forced to sit and listen to Paimon blabbering about himself, the nepotism going around his family of arrogant and selfish bastards, except stolas of course, and how much he hates other demons or Imps…Yes, with you being in or outside the room, he didn’t cared.

Stolas was in the middle of a divorce procedure, since he didn’t had a network of friends you offered to be his witness for the signing.

Which brings you to that very moment: Stella fussing and cursing, Andrealphus, as her witness, throwing you either shit or intents of seduction. Stolas re considering his entire life, you with a very thin string of patience left, and Paimon stretching the meeting as much as he could as to not get the divorce through.

“Whiskey, neat no ice” you wanted to dissolve, right on the seemingly pine smelling bar table you ended up on after the meeting. “Looking rather overdressed for a joint like this one, miss” the bartender sassed as he put your drink down, “One more comment and you’ll be breathing through a tube” he retreated to clean some glasses.

“That’s some jolly attitude” you recognized that voice, “Not today James, I ain’t in the mood for your shit” your ex-husband, build like some kind of bug demon, his smile as gross as it was in life, stood in front of you, smelling like cat piss and having his suit all worn out.

“Oh come now, I just came here to chat and gamble” you rolled your eyes at him “What else is new?” he chuckled, “How about a hand of poker? For old times’ sake” he made a little bow, as if he was still a gentleman, pathetic.

You said yes, reluctantly. Good thing that the bartender picked on your sour mood, refilling your glass every time he saw it empty.

“Hey Alden, it’s not like you can gamble your daughter twice” one of his drinking buddies referred to how bad he was losing, “That’s a fucked up joke” another said, “I wish it was, drunk people always tell the truth” your poker face was so bad, only they looked at your hate filled eyes with fear, James being completely unaware.

“Okay James, how about we bet something?” he looked up from his shitty cards, “If I win, I’ll introduce you to a friend of mine, your dream of being in the showbiz will finally be true” you thought Alastor could have a swing at him, “Swell, and if I win I get to make you my bitch again” his pals tried to warn him, but you had a royal flush on your hands, and the biggest shit eating grin in your face “Sure pal, let’s see how this ends”.  

You pushed the Hotel doors, tripping on your heels and the hem of your long dress, “Woah hold right there, hot stuff” Angel helped you up, eyes shooting open as he saw you, “Y/n?! You sure as hell clean up NICE!” you laughed, hanging onto his shoulders, slowly steading yourself, “Where were you all dolled up?” he sat you at one of the bar stools, “Just a business meeting, but I appreciate the compliments” Angel made a move to Husk, “Have a drink with us then, on me” he served you water on a shot glass, to make you sober up a little, “Can’t, I’ve worn out my gams*” you still took the shot as if it was vodka.

The Radio Demon was in for a little night cap at the parlor, when he took a look at you, a drunken mess in a beautiful hair-do and dress. He felt an electric feeling going down his knees, especially when you smiled at him, “Alastor, just the man I wanted to see, you want to be forgiven and have the laugh of your life?” you jumped off the stool, tripping again on your dress, and falling against Alastor’s chest.

“Yes?” he brushed your dripping mascara off with his thumb, “Just outside this door is my ex-husband, I just found out he sold my new born daughter to the mafia, would you care to make him a voice in your broadcast? A permanent one” the pain in your expression was drowned by the fleeting happiness the alcohol created, at the same time as he picked on the situation, he also founded terribly difficult to remain unfazed.

“On one condition” you melted on the way he spoke, and his hand touching your face, “That I don’t shove my axe up your ass for the stupidity you told me last night? Or spill the fact that you have a little fluffy tail?” his ears shot back as you whispered the last bit, “Join me afterwards for a chat” you laughed, again making yourself a little steadier on the floor.

“Let’s have breakfast tomorrow, I already drank twice my weight in whiskey” he took your hand, kissed your palm and your knuckles, his eyes full of determination, “Deal” his prongs grew as much as his body as he directed himself to the door.

“And Alastor” He stopped midways, looking back at you, “Please make him regret it” he was about to burn the guy alive, only for you, “It will be my pleasure” after saying that he disappeared at the other side of the door.  

Immediately after that, you figured with your current level of alcohol, you needed to reach a soft spot. Somehow you made it upstairs, stumbling your way to the king's room. Your heels were left on a corner, so did your dress when you changed into the kitty pajamas.

The sound of sheets drawn your attention to the bed, soon after you saw him sit up, rubbing his eyes as he stretched a little before smiling when he finally saw you. His loving face made you want to hug him.

"Hey~, how was it?" He extended his hand, making grabbing mannerisms as you walked to his side to take his hand, "Awful, I stink of alcohol, so I'll be back after I-" he pulled you to himself, not caring about the raw whiskey smell, "You had a bad time wearing that dress? Next time I'll tag along" he sassed, chuckling into your neck.

"Prince Stolas got divorced, good for him to be honest, his ex-wife is a case" he made an ah sound in understanding, "A royal pain in the ass, those meetings with Paimon, right?" You sighed into his hair, he knew what you were going to do, he just wanted you to tell him.

"There's no fooling you, huh?" You got him to laugh again, "They got you so good, now, I imagine you're doing those three guys chores" you pinched his side for his audacity, "The boost of rep was not worth it, and now they want me to marry and fuck one of them, over my dead body" he moved to top you, his face inches away from yours.

"Funny, I thought they were sticks in the mud" his eyes sparkled, as he laid down on your breast, slowly, testing your reaction, you just kept sighing and talking.

"They are, but their slurs won't bring those assholes back, so they have to deal with me" he weighted a bit, but you didn't mind it, in fact he almost began purring when you absentmindedly started petting his head.

"Next time I'll go with you, they won't say a thing about you in my presence" he enjoyed how your hand made its way through his scalp, he missed that, very much.

"I don't think I'll make it to the next one, my deal ends before that, I have to start planning who will inherit my shit" his blood froze, a familiar feeling invaded him as he remembered what Charlie had told him.

"Where will you go?" If you had been sober perhaps you would have thought of an excuse not to answer him, but whiskey took the only opportunity you had to blackmail Alastor about his tail, and now you were half-confessing your deal with his daughter.

Blame the alcohol and his abandoned puppy face.

"I can't explicitly tell you, neither can Charlie, but I will tell you this, please don't let her burry me in hotel grounds" Reality hit him like a truck on the highway. With his arms on the sides of your head he stood up, looking more serious and hurt.

"You will die? What kind of shitty deal are you in!?" the high note in his voice made your ears hurt, "The kind a person does when doesn't want to live anymore?" out of nowhere you started laughing, "Actually, Charlie's mission was for her to find a reason for me to continue living, so far, nothing worth my time".

"Then...make me your reason".

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

Gams*: Woman's legs.

Part 7

[thatpodcastkid]

Magnus Archives Relisten 5, MAG 5 Thrown Away

Trash apple teeth! Is this anything

Spoilers ahead!

Facts: Statement of Kieran Woodward, regarding items discovered in the refuse of 93 Lancaster Road, Walthamstow. Given February 23rd, 2009.

Statement Notes: There are so many posts out there comparing The Magnus Archives to the Twilight Zone because of Jon's narration and the serial creepy story format, but this episode really stands out in mind as Twilight Zone-esque. Like the Twilight Zone, some Magnus Archive episodes deal with things like childhood guilt and cult-behavior, like MAG 4. But other episodes just kind of say "Damn, isn't that fucked up? Anyway," like this one.

I do love Kieran as a character. He's just so weirdly chill and realistic about everything. There's are some statement givers who are still being tormented by the fears, some who cause fear, some who are reporting on things that happened to people they know, but there's also this interesting category of people who survived because they played the game right. When the audience says "don't go in the basement" or "call the cops," they listen. Woodward gets through this statement unscathed because he moves on from the creepy dolls heads and reports the teeth, then destroys the "gift" left for him and tries to move on. Alan can't let go, Alan doesn't know the rules of the genre, that's why he doesn't make it out.

My two new favorite characters in the series are "Matt, who was raised Catholic and never shut up about it," because he is me, and David who "broke the silence by vomiting loudly into a nearby drain," because he is the most realistic horror character of all time.

Entity Alignment: Whenever I think of this episode, I think of it as the "teeth in a bag" episode. I actually 100% forgot about the metal heart. Now, when you think of those things, it kind of sounds like a Flesh episode.

But, let's all remember our favorite bio majors and their special gift to their professor. The Stranger has a history with teeth. The description of the dolls heads is very "uncanny valley," which is the Stranger's real niche. The thing that really sells me though is Jon's last line in the statement, "All two thousand seven hundred and eighty of them were the exact same tooth." The exact same tooth, apparently from the exact same person, repeated over and over again to the point that the examiner can date them because of their differing stages of decay. You know what that sounds like to me? Someone has been practicing.

The metal heart also says Stranger to me. I know it has a little Flesh energy, but it really reminded me of the hospital episode from season 5. The way the character describes feeling like her body was not her own, that parts of her had been replaced, substituted. The metal heart as the only remanent of Alan feels like that same kind of fear. It's not his, it's not him, but it's all he's got.

Speaking of Alan, does his obsession with watching the house to the point he goes without sleep for days, isolates his friends, and is presumed dead remind you of anyone? He must be influenced by the Eye at least a little bit.

But ignoring entity alignment for a second, Jonny does consistently uses obsessive characters really well. There's a lot of horror media where, in real life, it would make more sense for the characters to give up on their investigations of the supernatural or to ignore it in entirely in the first place. The audience is usually (and rightfully) able to suspend reality for the sake of the story in these situations. But what's so interesting about Jonny's writing is that he explicitly states characters like Alan, like Amy Patel, like Jon, can't stop themselves. It's obsession, it's all consuming, they know it's bad for them, but they just can't stop. It really adds to the audience fear because you're not the only one telling them turn back, their mind is screaming it too, but they still won't listen.

Character Notes: The post-statement in this episode is just 90% Martin hate. Absolutely unhinged behavior. What if you worked at a restaurant at the end of receipts your boss just wrote "This waiter is a goddamn loser and I hate him." Wild man Jonathan Sims everybody.

[orangevtae]

A Dream is a Wish [Joel Miller x Reader]

Summary: While being in and out of counsciousness, Joel ends up dreaming of a scenery where everything is normal again, where Ellie is part of your lifes and where Sarah is alive with the three of you, truly the family dream that he always wanted.

Warnings: Fluff but hurt too. Alluring of episodes 6 and 7 of the show so SPOILERS. Blood and injuries. Stabilished relationship.

A/N: i'm gonna post as many Pedro and TLOU content as i can, i will 🥴🥴 enjoy! <3

Joel trembled a little as he heard someone knock on his bedroom door, scaring him out of his deep slumber.

He didn't know what time was it but he could tell that it was early since the sunlight that came from his window shone right down on his face, making him squeeze his eyes and look to the clock on his bedside table. 07:00 AM shone deeply in red on the display of it and that made Joel frown cause there was no way he could have an automatic clock like this one cause there was no more use for it in the scenery where he lived now.

A little atonished by it, he took a look around the room, noticing that he wasn't on his trashy apartment on the Boston QZ with it's crampling walls and barely there furniture, instead, he was back on his old room on his old house in Texas and if he was founding it strange before, he was plenty sure that he had gone nuts now. Everything was the same with the only difference is that his clothes weren't around the room in a mess pile and on the other side of where he was lying, was an empty space that was neatly untouched. He got up and dressed some of his clothes that were gathered around the floor and got out of the room.

He heard some laugh coming from downstairs and he distinguished three different voices, the frown still deep on his forehead as he slowly got downstairs and stopped dead on his track at the scene he found when he looked to the kitchen.

You were making coffe for the both you on his coffee machine, the smell of it almost all around the house. Ellie was on the table, reading one of her comic books while probably waiting breakfeast be ready. And when he looked to the stove, Sarah was there, making her infamous scranble eggs.

Joel felt like crying, his eyes started to burn with unshed tears as he looked to Sarah's back, how her hair would move back and forth while mixing the eggs and ge even rubbed his eyes to make sure he was seeing right, that this wasn't just a trick his mind was putting on him.

"You could help your sister to make breakfeast you know?" you mumbled as pouring the coffe on two mugs.

"Why? i would probably burn whatever i try to touch, at least Sarah can make scranble eggs" Ellie shrug it off and you just shook your head at her.

"I think it's better like that, Ell's the worst at the kitchen and probably would put the house on fire trying to fry bacon" Sarah chuckled and Ellie sent her an mouthed "fuck off" that only made Sarah laugh louder and get back to the eggs.

"I saw that" you mumbled at her and a smirk was present on her face.

Joel quickly cleaned his face for any remanents of tears that could have fallen down without him noticing and got inside the kitchen, making the three of you turn towards him, soft smiles on the faces of three persons he loved most in the world. All together.

"Look who woke up!" you smiled at him.

"I was thinking that you had died in your sleep from heart attack or some other disease old people have" Ellie smirked up at him.

"Ellie!" you hissed at her "Jesus..."

"Morning dad!" Sarah beamed happily, turning the stove off and running to her father's arm, delivering a quick peck on his cheek.

"Good morning ladies, you slept well?" he let out after Sarah got back to the eggs

"We did, honey. Breakfeast ready so have a sit" you beamed at him.

"Mornin' grumpy" Ellie said to him as she got up, giving him a hug as she passed trough him to go to the kitchen.

"Mornin' kid" he hugged her back and walked to where you where at.

"Here" You said, handing him his mug of coffee while he got closer to the balcon on the kitchen.

"Thank you, darlin'" he said, giving a little kiss in your cheek.

"Erm...no pancakes?" Ellie asked as she looked on the cabinet that the pancake mix usually was.

"Ask your dad, he was supposed to buy it" you answered her, taking a sip of your coffee.

"Really dad?" Sarah frowned.

"I'm sorry, i promise i will buy a cake" he smiled at three of you.

It was in that moment that Joel noticed that this day was familiar to him, because that day happened before. That day was the day everything happened, the beggining of the pandemic, the day he had lost Sarah. He ate breakfeast with a frown on his face.

That day started similar to the one he's having now, but at the same time it was different. You and Ellie where on scene now, you reprimanding her and Sarah and Ellie laughing together at some pun she delivered were new things. Even Tommy was there, with the old man jokes. Everything was the same at the same time it wasn't.

The same dialogues where being told and heard with the additions of your and Ellie's comments, the table at the dinning room was full and there was laugh, bickering and...and looked out of picture even though this was right, Joel felt a happy buzz forming on the pity of his stomach.

"Honey?" he heard you mumble "Honey?"

"What?" he got out of his daze, he looked the hand that was on his now with a golden ring above one that had tiny diamonds in it, you got engaged and had an engagement ring? When he had given to you?

"You okay hon'? You seem out today, did you really slept well?" you asked concerned.

"I...i'm okay darling, just zoned out a bit. Nothing to worry for" he smiled at you.

"You sure?" you asked again, just to make sure.

"I am" he grabbed your hand and brought to his lips, delivering a kiss on your knuckles "Have i ever lied to you?"

"You did yes" you let out a chuckle, joking about it "But if you saying so"

"I am" he kissed your knuckles again "I know that lying to my wife means instant death"

"Okay, gross!" Ellie said outloud, she had a funny expression looking at you both.

"Yeah, we just want to have breakfeast without you two smooching each others faces" Sarah laughed, throwing a piece of her egg at you both.

"Hey, don't throw eggs at us cause you guys can't have smoochies" you said, mimicking kisses at both girls and you all laughed about it.

Joel didn't know what was happening but he wouldn't trade it for nothing. He got to see Sarah again, smiling, laughing, well. He got to see you and Ellie making her laugh, telling jokes and be silly. He got to see Ellie being comfortable at the table, like she was belonged to the picture, like she was always meant to be laughing and joking with Sarah.

He took a look around the house and got to see pictures of your wedding with him. How happy the both of you looked on them, how amazing and beautiful you looked on them, just like he imagined that it was going to be.

He decided to not go work, he would stay home with you, while waiting the girls to get back for school while he asked Tommy to say that he fell ill to cover him up. He got out to buy the cake he promised Sarah that day after he left her and Ellie at the school.

He got his new-old pulse clock that was now fixed when Sarah and Ellie got back from school, them saying that they had the money from him but still doing it for him, for his birthday.

When night came, the four of you (plus uncle Tommy of course) got to sing him Happy Birthday with ridiculous party hats on your heads and big smiles on your faces while he blow the candles.

"You wished something dad?" Sarah asked.

"If i tell, it won't come true" he frowned at her.

"C'mon dude, don't be a dick!" Ellie huffed and you all laughed.

"For all the days to be just like this one, with my family, the people i love most in the world" he smiled at all of you.

The night came and with it, Joel's worry. Worry that everything was gonna happen all over again and that he would fail Sarah again, that he would fail Ellie and that he would fail you.

But none of it happened, there wasn't anything going on the whole day, there wasn't police cars or helicopters going back and forward, Tommy wasn't arrested and Joel got to spend the whole night with his family with the four of you all together, just like he wanted, just like he always dreamed. Just like that day was supposed to go as: with his girls slept on his arms, your head resting on one of his thighs as his favorite movie was passing by on tv.

While Joel was dreaming, in and out of counciousness, you and Ellie were worried about him. He had a fever some hours ago and now he had a bit of sweat on his face as he mumbled on his sleep, he was smiling slightly.

Ellie managed to stitch his wound with thread and a needle she found while you runned around to find him medicine and things that could help to not infectionate his wound, it stopped bleeding when Ellie stitched up but maybe there could be an infection and Joel has lost too many blood, his skin has lost it's color and you were worried, the little bit of relief you could have was knowing that whatever he was dreaming about, was good cause Joel never smiled when he went to sleep and usually he had nightmares about the day Sarah died.

Even though you were worried with him and his well-being, you felt relief knowing that his pain didn't achieve him on his sleep this time, you had heard yours, Ellie's and Sarah's name come out of his mouth and you knew that at least for a while, he could be happy with the scenery that was going trough his head, while you and Ellie were trying your best to keep him alive.

[goddessofroyalty]

What if chadley is a real boy? The baby sibling of the remanents or maybe a sephiroth clon, maybe he time travel too but this baby just can crawl around and loz being the taller one carry him to mamá Cloud

Yeah I'd believe him as a SephCloud baby or Sephiroth clone.

Although if we're doing time travel it would be kind of funny if it was in the "Remnants go back to Crisis Core era and somehow fix things for the better" side-story-plot-thing. When they come back to their own time where their parents actually are together they have a new baby brother who they distinctly remember being not related to them from their original timeline (oh well, who are they to complain about an additional sibling).

I stick by the remnants being the kind of older siblings that give Cloud raised blood pressure. They love their little baby brother and want to spend time with him. The problem is they are almost too hands-on and of course don't listen to any instructions about how their baby brother is not as big as them and they need to be careful! So they're always carrying him around and trying to involve him in their activities but it's the kind of them that by 'carrying' I mean having their arms wrapped around his middle letting his legs just hang as they wander around and giving him toys that are definitively choking hazards. Kind of things where even the fairly blasé parent Cloud is like "no don't stop it put him down."

Will say that if it's more the Main Game (/Advent Children) timeframe of Cloud being the remnants parents and Chadley being the one to time travel back to them, I feel like Cloud takes one look at another child of his that was clearly had with Sephiroth and decides he needs a drink. He's going to take the kid in and look after him as well obviously but it's confirming that, 1 - Sephiroth isn't dead; 2 - Cloud is going to be in the situation to have another child with him (although cloning's always an option, he would rather this be a cloning situation honestly); 3 - the universe is so immensely unfair that all of these kids somehow take after Sephiroth not Cloud (both in terms of he can't live in denial that they're not Sephiroth's and... other people can immediately clock that they are Sephiroth's). Thankfully he has a pretty good support network around him.