#false heaven au

[foileadeux]

ooh yeah I’m up to date!! I meant congealed pkradi;; like if you got any more cool tidbits about them :0

I GOTCHU OK!!! going by the og ask i really like the idea of them just not getting what they want at all. so they just slowly stop fighting and get more apathetic and weary, forgetting what they wanted and who they are. they just kinda melt into eachother in the dream

not canonising this in the au but it is a Diabolical idea to play around with!!!!

[gremlingottoosilly]

The horror and the wild (Emperor!Konig x fem!Reader) Medieval Fantasy AU

You had a nice, simple life. Serve the princess, obey the princess, protect the princess with your life. You never thought that this nice, simple life would bring you to be kidnapped by the infamous Northern Emperor. Konig never thought that kidnapping a wife would be much easier than courting one. CHAPTER 1 Word count: 4906 Tags/Warnings: Medieval fantasy/Alternative European history AU, Age gap, Enemies(one-sided)to lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Forced marriage, Size difference(Konig is absolutely huge), Somewhat one-sided slow burn, Yandere Konig

This fic on AO3

— I do not wish to speak about politics before breakfast!

— Your Highness, I’m afraid, politics would not be waiting patiently until you’re finished with your sweet pastries. 

— What do you mean? 

— The Emperor’s army is on our doorstep. 

The look on the face of the Princess – your Princess – was priceless. First, it was a surprise, her adorable features all twisted in a very unladylike gasp. Then, it was terror – the first time you saw her ever express that emotion since the palace was always clear of anything that could scare her royal highness, from mice and snakes, and up to severely ugly people(poor, poor Elvin – he’d a good life if it weren’t for his pointy slabby jaw). Then, and it was the final emotion on her illustrious face – it was anger. To nobody’s surprise, the anger was mostly coming at you. 

You see – you’re a Princess's most loyal handmaiden. Raised under her crib, going to the same classes, doing everything in favor of your royal highness, from warming up her jewelry and to trying the food first to see if it’s poisoned – your whole life’s goal is to make sure that the Princess is as comfortable as possible. You’re her shadow, her servant, the closest to a friend she can have – and if you were the bearer of the bad news, it’s only natural that she would be angry at you in the first instance, and not at the imperial army clashing down at your tiny bordering kingdom. 

— Where are the guards?!

— Judging by the screams I am not sure if there are any left in the outer levels of the castle. And if the King didn’t come with a usual note after breakfast, it’s safe to assume that he is more busy. 

With a trained movement, you quickly duck under the table when the Princess, naturally, throws a plate in your direction. You knew she wasn’t meaning it – your poor, innocent darling Princess, she was just as scared as you were but had not learned of how to hide her emotions under sarcasm and false calmness. Your job is to keep her safe – and calm – even if there is no royal family to serve anymore. You don’t want to think of the possible outcomes – King took you in, a simple peasant girl with no talents whatsoever, and gave you an illustrious education, the most sought job in the whole kingdom, and an allowance that would allow you to study in the real collegium, were they to accept women. You don’t want this place to fall in Northern Empire clutches – and you especially don’t want the Princess to learn the harmful ways of two pretty young women trapped in a castle full of enemy soldiers. 

— How could this happen?!

— I’d have an answer for this question, Your Highness, but you ordered to urn any mail from the Northen Empire. Perhaps, they send us quite a bit of war declarations before finally going down. 

Your hand goes to the side of your skirt, clutching on the suicide dagger – if something happens, you’d have to kill the Princess first, take the sin of killing oneself from her innocent soul – and then go down after her, hoping that your dog-like loyalty would allow you to serve her in heaven. 

The Princess has many things that she’d like to take with her to the afterlife. You better start preparing her package soon – this castle wasn’t built to be protected from the army of beasts, hiding under human skin – your kingdom never provoked any wars, always trying to search for the opportunity of negotiations – and now this comes to bite you right in your soft rear, without a sufficient amount of guards or a suitable army to protect itself. 

You’d pray for the god, but your god wants you to die. 

— Princess, we need to…

Before you could say anything else, an explosion erupts somewhere in the southern tower – the closest place to enter the Princess chambers. You can hear screaming, you can hear laughing – a foreign language, the one you are proficient with, but it never made it less barbaric, less harsh. These people talk like swords clangs against each other – like a harsh metal against your skull. You’d give up anything to not understand what they are talking about. 

There is something to be done before the soldiers arrive, finding only a few guards and two pretty, terrified young things. You might not be afraid of death, but you sure are terrified of what will come before their blades would slit your throat. You do not wish to die with blood between your legs. You do not wish that fate for the Princess either. 

“The Princess should be here.”

“Did Lord say anything about trophies?”

“Don’t take anything now. Tiger said we were never here – he would pay us later”

“What about…”

“Don’t kill the Princess either. Emperor want her to himself, remember?”

“Come on, are we here for a whore?”

“A royal whore, dumbass. Now shut up before Emperor hears you.”

They laugh and you can hear the Princess whimpering, crying softly – all of the layers of harshness are washed away with every tear rolling down her perfect cheek. You move to them as fast as you can – these stupid clothes allow you at least some freedom of movement, saved from the excessive decorations and expensive, heavy fabrics – you are only as few levels higher than cleaning rags. you could probably rip away the lower levels of your skirt and run – the Princess wouldn’t even be able to move without your hand steadying herself. 

You need strength to not slap her right now – you know that the pain on her perfect puffy cheek would help get her to listen, but nothing in your body moves to ever hurt her, no matter the cause. You push yourself to the door, thinking – your castle isn’t the highest one in the whole world, if anything, the Princess would be able to escape either via the window or the secret tunnels – but they would search for her, they would never accept defeat like that. Even if you’d stall them for long enough, pulling every bit of luck you don’t have – they wouldn’t stop if they had the goal of catching the Princess. 

— Your radiance, we have to go!

— Where? The castle is going to crumble any second now, and Mama and Papa are…

You press your ear against the tough wood, listening to the soldier’s speaking – language is even harsher now when the adrenaline runs through your veins instead of blood. You would give up anything to be strong – to have your dancing and embroidering lessons switched to sword fighting, to archery, to read dark arcana books instead of romance novels that you and Her Preciousness liked so much. Your hands are soft and delicate, only a bit harsh from occasional cleaning and serving – you’re a shame to any servant in the castle, a house pet made to entertain and please, not to fight and work. 

The Princess is a cherished treasure for your kingdom. Protected and hidden away, the King was smart enough to know that a royal gem like her would make all the old rulers of kingdoms surrounding yours go into a frenzy – so Her Radiancy wasn’t ever allowed to any royal mingling and balls until she’d reach the age of at least 21. Her birthday was next month – a small mercy, knowing that there was a possibility of never getting of that age. 

“Is that a Princess?”

You hear a woman – probably one of the higher members of the court, considering her high-pitched accented whimpers with a familiar voice. God bless her soul and dedicate her a quick death – you don’t want to think what would come of her if not for this prayer.

“Princess should be in her quarters. This one definitely doesn’t speak like a royal meat”

“How do we even know which one is the Princess?”

“She should speak like one. Would be easier if her family ordered a fucking portrait.” 

But…you were with the Princess your whole life. You know how to act like her, you know how she talks, how all royals talk. You know how manners, you know how to sing, how to dance, you received the education that allowed her to copy your study work and give it to her personal teachers – her own reflection wouldn’t copy her better than you would. 

You’re young, like a Princess, you’re pretty, almost like a Princess – and you’re loyal like a dog, itching to pay your debt to the royal family. 

— Your Highness! You need to run, please, just take the secret route through the walls and…

It was the most horrible moment for her to put her foot down.

— I…I live to serve the royal family. Dying for you will be the greatest of honors. 

— I will not just leave you here!

— They’d defile and kill us both, Your Highness. But if I just pretend to be you, they won’t come looking for you, won’t they? They would have what they wanted and you will be free.

— What about you? 

You’d feel hurt for how quickly she ran to the secret tunnel – if such feelings were normal for a servant to have. You’d feel betrayed if it wasn’t the life or death situation – if you weren’t putting on her dress as swiftly as possible before the soldiers would come running for you. It’s funny, how you always wanted to try her dress – how you were jealous of everything she had, even if you were the closest to her – you pride yourself in not caring about such silly mortal possessions, and yet, you always wanted to try something as beautiful as her dress. 

You stare at yourself in the mirror – terrified, small, ready to die at any point or to be hauled back to the Northern Empire like a piece of meat. Dress suits you, the bright pink would tell about innocence and radiance – but not it smells of blood and betrayal. If the soldiers thought that the Princess killed herself in her room, they would surely not think about trying to find her. 

You push the tiny dagger against your wrist, praying to all of your knowledge of medicine that your death will be quick and as painless as possible. You left out a silent prayer – knowing that the god would only welcome you after your death. 

Not a war, Horangi corrects himself – a massacre. 

***

Tiger of the North was fucking tired.

This whole mission – declaring war that no one seen and no one wanted, marching through the street without an army behind him, felt more like a bandit’s doing than something that a general of the best army in the world would do. This whole operation is a stunt, an order from the Emperor that no one expected – seriously, sometimes he still felt like a child with new, exciting toys. For all he knew, König never saw a Princess – yet, he sent his best men to take her out, not caring that this would mean a war on the bordering kingdom.

Not his fault this shithole didn’t even bother to reply to any of the Emperor’s letters regarding the marital status of the Princess. Not his fault they don’t even have a proper army – the king died, gutted like a fucking pig, and the queen followed soon after. Their unit can count less than 20 people, with royal hounds and other animals to help – yet, no one was able to foresee them entering the castle and butchering it. It’s a hunt, not a war or even an assassination – a hunt for the Princess, the useless fucking thing. 

If they’d only bothered to get at least some portraits – something to tell what she looks like. Perhaps, she is ugly, a mix of a toad that fucked a pile of shit. Perhaps, she is crazy and eats pillows and keeps her handmaidens' heads like a trophy. Perhaps, she don’t fucking exist and the king just didn’t want to say out loud that his dick was never working enough to produce an heir. 

— Search the quarters! I don’t want them to have time to know that their precious king is dead. 

The low rumble of König beside his almost makes him dart from surprise. He wears a mask, of course, not even trusting his people to see how he looks like – perhaps, he is as ugly as a toad that…ah, shit, he is using the same comparison again. 

A faceless ruler and a faceless Princess – a match made in heaven. 

— You think other kingdoms would send their condolences? 

— I’m sure that Price is already aching to write a congratulatory letter for the expansion of the empire. A nice addition to the title, ja? 

The emperor laughs, a sword in his hand, dark from the king’s blood. Horangi still doesn’t understand why he would decide to go on such a dangerous operation – if anything, they could haul the Princess back to the capital, or at least the nearest Empire territories – but no, König decided to go here himself, searching for a Princess that would, surely, not be worthy his attention. If this man didn’t want to marry all the options other kingdoms offered him, he surely wouldn’t be satisfied with a girl from this shithole of a country. Their land is barely enough for a normal castle, let alone all of the riches that the Empire provided. 

Yet, König stumbles in every room, searching for something – for someone. Other soldiers don’t dare to take trophies in front of their emperor, knowing that this operation should be as secretive as possible – no other rulers would bat an eye for a mysterious royal passing and the quick marriage of the Princess of this kingdom, but Graves would be quite concerned and bitching about the Northern Empire coming close to his kingdom. God, if König could just bathe every last one of them in blood, he would have. 

— Sir, I believe the Princess should be here Unless she killed herself already. 

— Those people honor death more than they do life. Better be fast before I’d have to marry a corpse. 

— We could bring her back. 

— Nothing can wash off the dead smell even after resurrection. You think why Krueger can only have sex with common whores? 

They both have to suppress their laugh at the thought of the royal advisor. Poor, dead Krueger, serving a contract that even death would not be able to break – it’s a good thing to have it on their side. Provides a good amount of jokes just from being around him. 

König rushes to the door that looks the most guarded – judging only by the amount of dead servants around it. The Princess must be here and, knowing the traditions of your kingdom, he has about a minute before you’d kill yourself, yelling something ridiculous about finding solace in death and that they would never take you alive. The door comes crashing down ridiculously easy – or it’s his strength challenging in the form of barbaric savagery. When he pushed into the room, he didn’t see what he was expecting to see. 

He sees something better. 

You look divine in the moonlight, your form, draped in an expensive dress that you only managed to take on halfway through, getting stuck in that stupid corset and billions of tiny bows and cutting jewels. You look majestic, godlike, you look like something from a fairytale. He was anxious before this, thinking if it was worth it – overthinking every bit of the operations, evaluating if the enemy kingdoms would be fine with him just taking you. König wasn’t sleeping a good few nights before this – now he looks at you and wants to kneel in front of your perfect form. 

— No wonder they didn’t have portraits. They wouldn’t capture your beauty. 

He shook the knife – little thing, as dainty as you are – from your trembling hands. Poor thing terrified of him – he’d pick you up and haul you on your shoulder already, but he wants to take a moment and just admire the comparison between his huge, muscular arms and your fragile form. He knows he is big, imposing, threatening – but compared to you, he feels like a war god paying tribute to his newest sacrifice. 

You shake in his grasp, not fighting it – Princess wouldn’t fight, you remind yourself. If killing yourself is not possible, if your dignity is tarnished, the death and torture shall be met with silence – you put your lips together, as firmly as you can. Still, you can’t stop yourself from sobbing when his hand goes to cup your face – a faint trace of your makeup staining his dark gloves. 

— This is the declaration of war. You were…

— This is no war, meine Liebe. How could we fight the nation with a dead king? 

The Princess would cry, learning about the death of her parents. You try to force more tears, making yourself look as miserable as possible – it isn’t hard in this brute’s hands, with his soldiers surrounding you – but, for some reason, he doesn’t look surprised when you are not crying immediately at the mention of the death of your supposed parents. 

He laughs, cupping your face in a rough, crude gesture. He shouldn’t treat Princess like this – even you are not used to men being this vile, to speak of such lewd matters with his men. They surround you, laughing, not even bothering to pay the least bit of respect in front of their Emperor. 

He wears a hood and it makes him look like an executioner, not a ruler. But, perhaps, you would welcome a butcherer more than you would a husband. 

— Let me go! The guards shall rise to my abduction and they will not leave thou to…

You don’t even need to force yourself to speak like her – you’re royal by any means, other than blood and service. You can imitate her your whole life if needed, shadowing her your whole short existence – it only hurts you more when you are praying that the Princess, dressed up in your garments, would be able to escape. You know that someone will save her, and take care of her – it’s just like the plot of your favorite romance book. An abandoned Princess of the burned kingdom rises to be the wife of a mysterious, masked blood knight, saving him from pushing his soul into the darkness. You, in this story, would be just a minor victim for the author to kill.

— The guards would rise if they weren’t dead, Princess. Too late to call for them now. 

He sneers at this “Princess” like a snake, ready to sink her teeth into your soft, limp body. You whimper, finally trying to get your knife from his hand – as gracefully as you can, remembering that you are to stall the time for her to escape, not to actually save yourself. He laughs and lets you go suddenly – only to pick you up like you weigh nothing. Pick you up like a bride, not a pig for him to gut. 

The tip of your ears is burning – your whole face is burning, you feel ashamed, embarrassed, angry, every emotion swirls in your head as he doesn’t even try to be subtle about his affection. You thank god for the layers of skirt you are wearing – but the upper part of the dress is barely holding together, showing a scandalous amount of shoulder. You are tainted – a scandal in the court, if there was a court alive. 

— Put me down this instant. My kingdom will not just accept these levels of disrespect!

You say this weakly than you wanted to. He laughs – thunder and bear roar, ocean waves against the mountains – you whimper when his hand goes to rip the upper part of your dress entirely, leaving you barely covered, with only three layers of clothing and a corset between you and his horrible, dangerous hands. A lady should not be seen by men when she is in less than five layers of clothing – still, you feel much better when the heavy fabric lets go of your skin. Still, you feel mortified, knowing, what would happen when he started to take off your clothes. 

Well…you think you know what will happen. You and Her Highness read books with a scandalous amount of intimacy – touches, hugs, kisses even, the last book having record five instants of the main heroes being in close proximity with each other – you also know that whenever a male enemy soldier captures a woman, he is doing…something before killing them. Not quite sure what, but obviously torturous. 

— The only kingdom that is left for you, your Highness, is what lies between your legs. I’ll be sure to pay my regards later.

Before you could say something – anything for that matter, he already hauls you away, still stuck in his hands like a trophy. You thank god that he doesn’t see the difference between you and the Princess. You never knew your acting talents would be of this amount, but nonetheless, you feel complete, knowing that the Princess is safe and sound. 

— What is the purpose of your actions? 

You are weak, voice whimpering and quiet. You don’t want to touch him, but the hungry gazes of his soldiers make you weak and fragile – you cling to him, trying to cover your modesty. The corset is a part of the wardrobe that no fine lady should ever show to men – yet, this is the only thing now that is keeping your tits together, saving at least some of your dignity. The heavy skirt of the torn dress lingers on your legs, covering you as much as barely holding up fabric can. König’s chest rumbles with a laugh when he notices you clinging onto him like a helpless kitten. 

— I’m taking my bride as your parents were not kind enough to answer any of the proposals.

— Why didn’t you just visit? 

If it were for him, he would just sprawl you on the ground and take what he wants. He would, were he a simple soldier, not the North Emperor – he would if there weren’t any witnesses if there were no intentions of marrying you later. But alas, he needs your hands in marriage – he needs you whole in marriage, from head to toe, from your heart to your soul, from your pussy to that sweet mouth of yours – and he can’t have all that unless he is patient. 

— I did. Right now, for that matter.

— As the only heir to the throne, this would mean the death of my country. You can’t just…

— Who is there to stop me, little one? Your parents? Dead. Your army? They would kneel for my men were we at actual war. 

You close your mouth. He laughs again, this terrifying hood of his moving when he shakes his head. You sob, tears flowing freely down your cheeks – it’s a wonder you can still talk while crying like this, but you need to keep up the act and you need to stall the time as much as possible. His hand goes to wipe away your tears and, for a second, you almost want to bite him. But, Princesses don’t bite – they lay in the hands of their captors and wait for princes to save them. 

— The other kingdoms would protect us, we had war pacts!

— Were you loved enough to start a war with the Empire to protect you from getting married? 

— I shall…

— You’re too young to speak like a queen, Liebe. Leave that to me, ja? 

You open your mouth. 

You close your mouth. 

You open your mouth again. 

— Please, let me go. 

This is a quiet, soft sob – König stops for a second, looking at your fragile, vulnerable expression. You’re as weak as a kitten, as adorable as a bunny – and precious, his little treasure, tucked away nicely in the deepest corners of this kingdom. He almost feels bad for breaking you, for taking you away. He killed many men, the king included, and he captured more land than his father ever could dream of – the biggest empire lies at his hands and yet, he feels weak when you cry in his hands. 

It still suits you more – a pained expression, pure terror, all the emotions that a young woman like you should experience when she is captured by someone like him – he believes in terror through submission and the tears streaming down your face makes his cock twitch in his pants. 

— I have all the right for you, little one. It’s your father’s fault that you were not protected more. 

He laughs, his large, imposing hand goes to cup your ass – you don’t even understand how his touch manages to get through this many layers of clothing. Your skirt is in complete disarray when he touches your legs, squishing and destroying the crinoline parts and whale bones. So much went into creating this skirt, a horrifying construct that never allowed the Princess to move freely, stuck in one place like a glorified little dolly – now it becomes your grave, mortifying and freezing you in one place. 

— You can’t…no, please, don’t…

He grabs your hips with the ferocity of a warrior, not an emperor. Rulers shouldn’t kidnap Princesses from neighboring countries, and they shouldn’t lead their troops on an operation that would destroy any diplomatic relationships with them – but he stands here, no more than a normal soldier, and you were never this terrified in your life before. He is a monster, a beast, an anomaly that shouldn’t exist in this world – even your desire to protect the Princess isn’t stopping you from crying and shaking. You bite your lips and sob softly, quietly, hoping he won’t just throw you to his men. 

— This is what politics leads to, no? Your father decided to stop being diplomatic…and I did too. 

He isn’t my father, you want to scream. He did nothing but take you from the streets, and slums you were scrambling aimlessly like nothing more but a tiny critter under his boots – he gave you everything, any book you wanted, the best company in the whole kingdom. He isn’t your father, still, but you pay for his mistakes – mistakes that you had no idea of. Princess ordered you to ignore any mail that would come from “This Northern brute” and you didn’t know that it could come to this. 

If only you were to steal those letters and read them instead of throwing them away…but what would it come to? Princess wouldn’t marry someone like König, she had no like for the emperor twice her age, for the human who defiled the very laws of nature, sitting in his high castle, ordering the undead soldiers around. Monster with, probably, three heads and two faces, with four hands hiding under his magnificent armor. A beast who is…

A best who is cradling you in his arms like you were his lover, not his victim. 

— Put me down. Please. 

— I’m getting tired of listening to little Princesses wailing. Tell me, Liebling, do you wish to continue this journey quietly or unconsciously? 

His hand goes to your neck – no doubt, he would be able to squish the life out of you if he so wished. No doubt, you are fucked – utterly and completely, with his ability to do whatever he wants your inability to stop him in any way. Sobbing softly, not wanting for him to continue this humiliation, you simply nod – to whatever option he deems appropriate. Princess would be screaming, yelling for help, and she would stomp her adorable feet on the ground until she’d get what she wanted – but you are no Princess, and playing pretend already makes you miserable enough. 

— I do not wish to see the destruction of my kingdom. 

— It’s not destroyed, little Princess. Merely defiled, captured and burned down. 

— You didn’t…

— Of course not, kleine Hase. I wouldn’t dare to burn the newest addition to my empire…unless you would make me to. 

It’s not a threat – it’s a promise, poorly concealed by the obvious smile in his voice. You cling to his chest and hear the rumble of his laugh when he pushes his cape over your shivering form. It’s a small form of comfort, but an unwelcome one – you’d rather be shivering, naked, and exposed in front of his troops than find comfort in the way he treats you. His cloak is heavy, more suited for the harsh weather of the central parts of the Empire – not your kingdom, mostly warm and wet, with bountiful rains and plentiful soil. You understand why he would want this land – you don’t understand why he would want you. 

— Don’t hurt my people. 

— Be nice then. You can be nice to your husband, ja? 

If you weren’t a Princess, you’d claw his fucking eyes out – get your dainty hands under his hood and scrap the pulsating flesh, turn his face into a mush of blood and gore. If you were real Princess, you would declare war on the Empire and die the protector of your kingdom – not a terrified girl. 

But you’re neither a Princess nor a commoner. 

You push your lips together, allowing König to take you away. Accepting your fate not with dignity, but with quiet, fearful acceptance. 

[chuuyrr]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִ 𓆩 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐈 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 ‧₊ 𓆪 fallen angel! dazai osamu , f! angel! reader . . .

dazai osamu descends from heaven's heights, burdened by his own demons and desires. amidst his descent, he encounters you, a beacon of purity. regardless of his dark past and the weight of his transgressions, he finds himself inexplicably drawn to your innocence and light, and so the fallen grapples with the ultimate sacrifice, to fall from grace for the chance at true love.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ on-going, slow updates . . .

𝐂𝐖(𝐬) ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ angels! au, religious themes: inspired by éloa (1824), a poem about a f! angel falling for a "stranger", which is also inspired by the hades and persephone myth, mostly sfw, only one chapter will contain nsfw and it can be skipped

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ i can fix him (no really i can), but daddy i love him, guilty as sin?, false god by taylor swift

‧₊ ࿐ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 .ᐟ

𝐢. 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋, 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

sfw. in which he sought to reclaim his lost light, and like a moth to a flame, he found it in you, an angel of light

𝐢𝐢. 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍, 𝐘𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

nsfw. amidst tangled bedsheets, you yearn for his love and grace, echoing their own longing for acceptance.

this chapter can be skipped .ᐟ

𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑, 𝐈'𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

sfw. despite all, he chooses you, and you choose him too, even it means to fall again just to take you with him

𝐀.𝐍. ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ this is my official submission for @kentopedia's "love through the ages" collab event. it was supposed to be a oneshot fic only for fallen angel! dazai osamu, but i just recently decided to turn it into series fic .ᐟ

[two-white-butterflies]

house of the dragons masterlist

Daemon Targaryen

We Raise Our Cups to Them - Daemon gifts you a necklace.

The Last Dragon - You thought that you were the last dragon. That was until you met him.

You Taste Like Wine - The story of how Daemon gained his thorns. (Tyrell!Reader) ➺ pt.2

A Little Life - Short drabble on Daemon and your son.

Wanton Desires - Daemon speaks to his wife while you give him head.

Orange and Tangerines - You and Daemon visit a brothel.

Ingenue - Daemon falls in love with a wolf. ➺ part two. (Stark!Reader) 

in the land of gods and monsters - You were the Queen, but you loved the prince. (Tyrell!Reader)

A Heaven I Can’t Reach - You were left by the Rogue Prince. You find out that you are pregnant, and he returns.

The Prince of Flea-Bottom - (Hightower!Reader)

Ghost of You - Your soul consumes Daemon with avarice.

Fuck the Rich. Fucks the Rich. - Threesome with Harwin.

Maroon -  It is the night of your wedding, and instead of making love. You both decide on playing chess.

Anti-Hero - You are the first-daughter of Viserys and Aemma, as she realizes what war is about to begin. She marries her uncle.

Midnight Rain - You used to be Daemon Targaryen’s fiancee, until he is forced to marry Laena Velaryon. You fall in love with Aemond. years later, Daemon returns.

Labyrinth - The reader is the daughter of Viserys and Alicent. Daemon almost gets the entire court high with weed brownies. The reader spreads a malicious rumor about Daemon.

Poison From the Same Vine - (Hightower!Reader)

Bigger than the Whole Sky - You become a glorified hostage for the Blacks. Your husband refuses to show his love. (Hightower!Reader)

The Smallest Coffins are the Heaviest - Daemon comforts you after a miscarriage.

Arms Length - Daemon swears to corrupt you. ➺ part two ➺ part three

Mob Wife - mafia au

White Sword - angst with smut.

The Sun Rises from the West - angst poc!reader

i’m a m*therfucking starboy - you meet the infamous prince of dragonstone. [enemies to lovers trope]

fence - he’s your dad’s best friend.

therese ➺milk matches her underwear ➺horses, cars and cowboys do  - in where, your private life becomes public. [secret relationship trope]

two white butterflies ➺ how to disappear ➺ miss american pie - daemon begins dating a singer who hates the spotlight.

i shouldn’t cry - prince daemon in love with a rich girl.

false god - you are forced to choose between family and ambition.

Fresh Out The Slammer - daemon targaryen always found himself running to you after his failed marriages.

good riddance - daemon is forced to choose between love and duty.

Viserys I and Aemond Targaryen

His Real Ambition - being a matriarch to a family was has hard, watching the love of your life marry someone else is harder.

in the land of gods and monsters - You were the Queen, but you loved the prince. (Tyrell!Reader)

Midnight Rain - You used to be Daemon Targaryen’s fiancee, until he is forced to marry Laena Velaryon. You fall in love with Aemond. years later, Daemon returns.

The Alcott - You are Rhaenyra’s oldest daughter. You meet your uncle in Winterfell, and you heart feels like jumping off your chest. 

Peaches - your stepson’s swimming instructor can’t stop staring at your ass. introducing, jealous aemond. | mafia au 

Let the light in - you fall for your father’s right hand man | mafia au 

This is me trying - a late night phone call after your team falls short on the podium. aemond comforts you, and provides you some comforting. some phone loving.

Fucking in my BMW Sedan - exactly what the title states.

I want your heart - vampire aemond

the winner takes it all - you are engaged to another. (angst)

my way, back home - aemond wants to have a big family.

A Man Who Knows - (angst)

Hands of Gold - Aemond meets an older woman. (smut)

Thranduil as Aemond's Dad - (headcanon)

Aemond Reacting to You Wanting to Break Up with him - (headcanon)

you’re losing me - after a gruesome breakup with jace - his billionaire uncle offers you a proposal that you can’t resist. [fake dating trope]

illicit affairs - it was forbidden to date a man like him. but still, you choose to fall. [cheating trope]

cats and dogs - you meet him in the animal shelter. 

emma falls in love - fake dating trope for taylor swift tickets.

Rhaenyra, Helaena and Aegon Targaryen

me and the devil - rhaenyra targaryen seduces otto hightower.

exotic flower - rhaenyra garden date. 

don’t you - you meet your ex-girlfriend in a party while wrapped around the arm of your brand new fling. a fight begins. messy sex.

Wanting Was Enough - Aegon falls for his father's caretaker.

extended masterlist

[kawowoa]

Hey! I just read your latest Toji drabble, I love it. Can you please do smth like this with Sukuna (modern version) and blind reader? Preferably fem, but gn is okay too, up to you!

Hope you having a good day 🩵

info : implied fem. reader, established relationship, sukuna being sukuna honestly but he’s kinda nice, blind!reader, extreme fluff, modern!au, literally just a word dump

a/n : tysm!! i hope ur day is good too anon :33 !!

sukuna who is typically an impatient person but with you? he can wait all day. struggling to read the braille on menu when ordering? he’ll wait patiently for you while glaring at he waiter to do the same.

not to say he still isn’t a menace, it’s sukuna for heavens sake. he knows you memorized the layout of the apartment you two shared, some times he would shift all the furniture just to see you bump into everything with a smug smirk on his face.

sukuna who does anything and everything for you. his favorite thing to do was your hair, he would always put your hair up in pretty styles, describing each one so you can get some sort of idea of what they look like.

“it’s like braids, with bows on the end”

“bows?”

“c’mere, feel them”

speaking of that, he always has you feeling something you’re curious about. whenever it’s a hairstyle or an item he’s talking about or even something on him—emphasis on something on him, he would never admit it out loud, but he loves lying to you that he gotten something new done on his body just as an excuse for you to touch him.

(on many occasions he convinced you to touch a bug with a shit eating grin, laughing loud as hell as you scream at him.)

sukuna who understands you have a sensitivity towards light. always taking you out shopping to add to your collection of sunglasses. he’d lead you into expensive stores under the false guise of it being the cheap store you used to go to before the two of you started dating.

“sukuna! i like these, how much are they?”

“don’t worry about it, put them on. lemme see”

he loves taking pictures of you in your glasses, especially when you couldn’t locate it to stop him. his favorite was the .5 pictures where your forehead and eyes look bigger looking in the general direction of the phone.

sukuna who, no matter how many times you tell him “i have my stick, i can walk on my own y’know?” will always have you holding onto his arm. in public or even when you’re just going to the kitchen.

sukuna who never lets you walk out the house looking crazy. he always picks your outfits out, even secretly making his outfits match with yours .. but he wouldn’t tell you that.

you trust sukuna with his judgement on style. even with how irritating or annoying he can be, he knows you care too much about you’re appearance—he’ll never know why, you can’t even see yourself—sukuna will always make sure you look like the center of attention.

“done. go look in the mirror”

“…sukuna”

“oh right, pfft”

[jessamine-rose]

˖⋆˚♱ଘ Angel’s Tears ଓ♱˚⋆˖

*cries* I thought I was done with Church AU after Priest! Dottore yet here I am with more unholy ideas. Welp, Guardian Angel! Capitano x Nonbeliever! Darling, here we go (；ω；)

Tw:: yandere, psychological trauma, blood, violence, death, religious abuse, MDNI

Note:: fictional depictions of religion

♡ 3.8k words under the cut ♡

♡ From the moment of their creation, angels are classified into the Nine Orders. This hierarchy determines their role in Heaven and Earth, with higher ranks assigned greater levels of power and authority. A special exception is The Strongest Angel, an individual who is neither a Seraph nor an angel from the First Sphere. Rather, the moniker belongs to Il Capitano, the leader of the Powers.

♡ The legitimacy of his title has never been questioned. As a warrior angel, Capitano’s purpose is to vanquish evil. He is the chivalrous knight in bloodstained armor, the nigh-invincible being who strikes fear into the hearts of demons, the ever-righteous angel bound by a paradoxical duty to partake in violence for the sake of everlasting peace.

♡ It is in a small town in Mondstadt, following his victory over a legion of demons, that Capitano encounters you. It is the hour of mass yet you are nowhere near the Church; rather, you have taken sanctuary in a secluded meadow. A book sits on your lap, not a religious text but a tale of dark fantasy. There is a saintlike quality to your countenance, an air of melancholy as delicate as the flowers which surround you.

✿ ⚘

The moment Capitano appears before you, all peace leaves the meadow.

No, this isn’t right. It is normal for humans to feel fear in the divine presence of angels, yet he is donning his human guise. Nonetheless, as soon as his shadow touches your form, you look up and suppress a shriek, your face losing its veil of apathy.

So what exactly did he do wrong?

For your benefit, he remains rooted to his spot. Clarity comes in the form of your gaze flitting to your book, its title printed on the cover in conspicuous letters, the whispers which leave trembling lips.

“I…I can explain! This book—it’s just fiction! There are no real curses or spells inscribed in the text; it doesn’t promote any form of blasphemy!”

Ah, now he understands. You weren’t afraid of him.

Carefully, Capitano takes a step forward and raises his hand in a calming gesture. A gentle expression adorns his false face.

“Be not afraid.”

✿ ⚘

♡ It doesn’t take long for him to understand your wariness. A glimpse into your soul, paired with your quiet explanation, tells the story of an orphan raised by the Church. Only, your Church is one of many founded on distorted beliefs, of violence preached in the name of a cruel god. As a result, your upbringing was marked by strict rules, corporal punishments, and sermons which painted the image of a hopeless child with a weakness for temptation.

♡ Knowing this, Capitano can’t fault you for forsaking God and your Church. Still in his human guise, he promises his silence and leaves the meadow. But once he returns to Heaven, his first course of action is to apply for a position as your guardian angel. It is an easy process—while that role is typically reserved for the lower ranks, there is no shortage of humans in need of spiritual guidance and protection. He only questions why an angel wasn’t assigned to you when you were in greatest need of one.

♡ Henceforth, Capitano becomes a recurring character in your life. Every week, he visits you in the meadow. When you ask for his identity, he claims to be a progressive believer from another town. But rather than enlighten you with the true Word of God, he simply keeps you company and indulges your “vices,” leading to hours spent reading together. Beyond those meetings, he also watches over you to ward off any demons or humans seeking to harm you.

♡ From your end, you slowly warm up to your mysterious companion. He is a man of few words, but his actions always convey a sense of kindness. And despite his faith, he genuinely respects your beliefs and accepts you as you are. At one point, he even gives you a special gift, a quill pen of exceptional quality. The feather, pure white with a soft radiance, must have been sourced from a rare bird of prey.

♡ Over time, however, something changes. Capitano can’t deny that the faults lies with him. His visits, his constant thoughts of you, the ever-blurring line between want and duty…nothing of his behavior can be attributed to an angel’s inherent love for humanity. If that were the case, his love wouldn’t beget heartache. His love wouldn’t beget the temptation to harm others, rooted not in the name of justice but for your own safety. His love wouldn’t beget lust, guilt, dishonor, desires so sinfully evocative of his own infallibility.

♡ The truth is, you were never in need of spiritual salvation. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, what Capitano saw was a pure soul—a good person unlikely to commit evil nor fall into true temptation. Moreover, he knows that your sin of disbelief is forgivable unlike your Church’s sins of violence. That so long as you remain as you are, your soul will not be denied paradise, albeit in a realm of Heaven beyond Capitano’s jurisdiction. So why is he incapable of leaving your side?

✿ ⚘

“I had a long, long dream. I dreamed that you and I met again in the pure white world that we created.”

As you read the final line, your gaze leaves the book and returns to Capitano.

“What did you think of the story?”

Your shoulder brushes against his own, a tempting sensation. It is all he can do to remain still, to think against seeking out more of your touch, to remind himself that your close proximity is a mere necessity for your current activity.

The left side of the book, bearing the story’s ending, rests in your left hand. The other side is held in Capitano’s right hand, a blank page devoid of hope for a happy ending. When he turns the page, you seamlessly catch it under your thumb to show the next page.

Who knew of the casual intimacies imbued in the act of reading together?

“It was a well-written novel,” he says simply. “Though her sins tarnished her honor, Rosalyne’s sacrifice was an act of love. Her loss did not hinder her faithfulness to Rostam.”

“I feel the same way,” you muse. “Now I understand why this book was banned centuries ago. Forbidden love between angels and humans…it certainly goes against what the Church taught us about angels. I have to give the author credit for their imagination.”

It’s just the two of you again, this time in the library. At the start of winter, you invited Capitano to your workplace. There, in your greatest show of trust, you brought him to a secret room dedicated to texts banned by the Church for promoting “blasphemy.” Fantasy, erotica, anti-Church publications, first editions of censored books, stories which merely deviated from the Church’s popular depictions of spiritual beings.

Molten Moment belongs to the last category. Little do you know that it was based on a true story, that the author had really formed a pact with a demon called La Signora. Capitano himself is mentioned in the story under his true name.

He was one of the few angels who noticed the changes in Rosalyne’s behavior. She used to be a Throne, an angel with no connection to Earth nor humanity. Yet by some twist of fate, she laid eyes on a brave knight from Mondstadt and began to meet him in her human guise.

He was the first to hear of Rosalyne’s sin, that being she saved Rostam’s life during a battle. It was a direct violation of God’s orders: Angels and demons may influence humans, but they are forbidden from directly altering a human’s lifespan.

He was a silent witness to Rosalyne’s descent. She fell from Heaven, burned by her own flames, yet she had never appeared more ecstatic. In the following years, she married Rostam and lived a happy life with him on Earth.

He was the last to recognize Rostam’s soul at the pearly gates, forever separated from his fallen lover. Such had been Rosalyne’s divine punishment, worsened by her knowledge of this possibility. But what else was she to do? To let Rostam know of her true nature? To drag his soul down to Hell, where he’d be subjected to an eternity of undeserved suffering?

Capitano is no fool. As he read Molten Moment, he began to understand Rosalyne’s sin in a new light. Half the time, he couldn’t even concentrate on the text, his human eyes repeatedly drifting to your intense reading expression.

He closes the book, leaving it in your sole grasp. But before he can stand up from the sofa, you scoot closer and lean your weight on him. The book is placed on a nearby table, forgotten.

“Do you mind?” you whisper. Your right hand, empty since the prologue, traces his left hand.

A moment of silence precedes his response. “You may.”

Wordlessly, you take his hand and intertwine your fingers. A gesture of intimacy, an unspoken confession. Yet as he savors your touch, Capitano wonders if you would harbor the same level of comfort around his true form.

He doubts it. As a Power, he bears an inhuman appearance on par with that of his superiors. It is his true image which has earned him the title of monster by witnessing humans.

Still, he allows himself to indulge in the blessing that is your oblivion. When you look into his two human eyes, there is a soft light in your gaze wholly free of fear.

“Spring is coming soon,” you mutter. “I can’t wait to see the flowers again. Come to think of it, there’s a variety of narcissus which grows only in late spring. It’s very pretty.”

Against his better judgment, Capitano strengthens his grip on your hand. “Shall I take it as an invitation to resume our meetings in the meadow?”

“Sure.” That is when you look up, a small smile adorning your face. “And if you can’t visit for whatever reason, I’ll pick a bouquet and preserve it for you.”

For once, Capitano is rendered speechless.

Rarely do you ever smile. Even to him, you retain your listless disposition—whether it is out of habit or lingering distance, he has yet to discern your reasons. But that is what makes it all the more special, those few instances when he is beholden to your expressions.

He wonders if this is what humans feel in the divine presence of angels, when they are borne witness to all things holy and beautiful.

Your smile is a phenomenon reserved only for the worthiest of souls. And in your grace, he has never felt more undeserving.

✿ ⚘

♡ At the end of winter, a religious war is authorized by the Church of Mondstadt. Shortly after the news reaches your town, Capitano informs you that he will be busy with “work.” He says it during another reading date, featuring Heart of Clear Springs. Before leaving, he kisses your hand and gives you a kind smile. There is a sad look in his eyes, but you don’t inquire further.

♡ In late spring, your town is attacked. With the entire area under fire, from your home to the meadow, you find yourself running back to the sacred building which you’d avoided for years. After all, though the enemy soldiers belong to a different denomination, they still worship the same god as you. In the present, the church is the only place on Earth where you can claim asylum and pray for your survival.

♡ Except every entrance is locked, including the doors to the orphanage. As the army reaches the town square, all you can do is bang on the front doors and beg to be let in. From inside, you can hear the voices of the people that luckily attended mass before the invasion. Some tell you to hide elsewhere, others beg you for forgiveness, a few sound like the nuns and caretakers who tormented you in the past.

♡ Before you can think of another sanctuary, a soldier strikes you. Pain…it has never felt more intense. Through your fading consciousness, you register your body falling and your head hitting the concrete. Blood pools from your forehead and trickles down the steps of the church, tainting it red.

♡ Life flashes before your eyes in a blurry sequence. The static images of God, sermons and bruises, unanswered prayers, people who never believed you or simply didn’t care. A birthday celebrated with your departure from the Church. Sanctuary found in the library followed by the meadow. Yet the numbness remained, each day bleeding into the next in a gloomy haze. In all those years, did you ever feel God’s love?

♡ It doesn’t matter at this point. A small part of you wonders if you should have retained your faith, continued your prayers, sought out salvation in the safety of your solitude. At least then, at the hour of your death, you wouldn’t be confronted with the fact of your humanity. The primal fear of death, the spiritual fear of ending up in Hell no matter Capitano’s reassurances.

♡ Capitano…where is he? Weakly, you call out to him but he doesn’t appear. Of course, why would he? You should feel thankful; it means he is probably safe, wherever he is. Still, you can’t help but wish he were here—if not to save you, as he has done by simply keeping you company, but to comfort you one last time. And those are the thoughts which plague you in your final moments, an unheard prayer on the tip of your tongue.

“I pray that we meet again, myself and the first person who truly loved me.”

♡ ______ died on a cloudy day, one of many people persecuted in the name of God. After the Church was destroyed and its followers slaughtered, their body was buried in a mass grave that once flourished with nature. There was a poignant quality to their countenance, an air of distress as transient as the flowers planted above them.

♡ At least, that is how your story ends from the perspectives of the survivors. But to the angels and demons who witnessed the destruction of your town, your death was only the end of a chapter in your life. In their eyes, Capitano had been present all throughout, an invisible witness to your death, absolute in his refusal to perform an unauthorized miracle.

♡ He remained by your side until the light faded from your eyes. That was when he took notice of the bouquet of narcissus clutched in your hand, tainted with blood despite your feeble efforts to save his gift. A soldier approached your corpse, intending to drag it down the steps for burial; but before they could touch you, Capitano appeared before them.

♡ It was only for a brief second, but the soldier drew back and cowered in fear. In the following days, they were haunted by the memory of the angelic figure who appeared outside the Church of Mondstadt. Or more precisely, the monster who prayed over a bloodstained corpse and took a bouquet of ruined flowers out of their grasp.

✿ ⚘

From the moment you wake up, all peace leaves the meadow.

What happened? Your memory comes back in hazy fragments—death, darkness, blinding light, pearly gates, ethereal figures. Most vivid is the sensation of strong arms and soft feathers, a familiar warmth which accompanied you throughout your journey.

As for your current surroundings, you are in a meadow so beautiful that it brings to mind the Garden of Eden. Flowers of every variety bloom across the scenery, some out of season. The sky is bright, sunless, a canvas of multiple colors. There are no other signs of life.

Internally, too, something feels off. A nearby pond provides a glimpse of your reflection—white garments, gold scars in place of your fatal injuries, your disoriented countenance. If this place is what you think it is…shouldn’t you feel at peace, happy even? And why are you alone?

Your gaze lands on a patch of flowers. Pure white, perianth petals, cup-shaped coronas…the same type of narcissus which grew in your favorite meadow. The flowers point in different directions, as though searching for a sun that does not exist.

“You are awake.”

A shadow touches your form, engulfing you in darkness. It bears a large, unrecognizable shape but such details escape you as you recognize the voice behind you.

“Capitano!” Immediately, you turn around, only to gasp and suppress a scream.

The person before you…can you even call him human? He is incredibly tall, to the point that you must crane your neck to see his face—assuming there is one beneath his iron mask. His body is clad in silver armor, stained blood in some places. A halo, shaped like a crown of thorns, shines behind his head.

But what shocks you are his wings. A single pair covered in radiant white feathers and eerily dark blue eyes. Each eye seems to glow with an uncanny aura.

Dark blue eyes with a striking resemblance to Capitano’s. What more for his long black hair and his solemn manner of speaking?

It doesn’t make your revelation any less unsettling.

“Capitano.” Your voice comes out in a nervous whisper. “Is it really you? You’re a…”

“An angel,” he confesses. He takes a step back, widening the distance between your bodies. “I ask that you pardon my appearance. Such was my sacrifice—for my true form, in all of its monstrosity, to be my sole image.”

His human face comes to mind, along with the kind gaze you fell in love with.

You feel the weight of multiple gazes on you. “What do you mean?”

“Is this realm to your satisfaction?” he asks. “I beseeched God to create a special paradise for you, cut off from the rest of Heaven. The price is that your capacity to feel negative emotions remains in this realm…though that is preferable.”

Preferable? How so? Right now, you can barely process what he is telling you. You are dead. Your companion is an angel. Your soul is in paradise, but not exactly.

After everything you’ve been through, you were still deemed worthy of a place in Heaven.

“I am sorry.”

Capitano’s voice brings you back to reality. He has never sounded more serious, emotional, repentant. And when you look up…

Is he crying?

Most of his eyes remain open, focusing on you with a fervent stare. But others are downcast, as if unable to face you. And a few appear glossy, blinking back iridescent tears.

“I am truly sorry.” He bows his head in shame, wings folded. “What I did to you was cruel, an absolute injustice.”

You don’t know which eyes to make contact with. “You—”

“It must have been painful,” he continues. “Even if I were to justify my actions, the truth lies in the fact that I tolerated your suffering for my own selfish desires. And that is why I ask not for your forgiveness, knowing I am the one at fault.”

Silence. In light of Capitano’s confession, all you can do is stare at him and comprehend the weight of your situation. What exactly are you supposed to feel, knowing his betrayal? Knowing that regardless of your feelings, you have nowhere else to go in the afterlife?

Yet despite it all, your prayer came true. The two of you were able to meet again.

And that is what compels you to take a step forward, to come closer until you are standing in front of him. “Hey, it’s…don’t cry.”

A delicate sensation blesses his wings—your hands carefully tracing his feathers to wipe away his tears. Several eyes widen in surprise, but all he can see in your gaze is sympathy.

“I’ll admit, it was painful,” you tell him. “Dying alone. But maybe it’s…better this way. If I survived, I’d have to deal with the loss of my home. And who knows what kind of living hell the other Church would’ve put me through?”

Above all, Capitano is the only person whose love you can believe in.

Hesitantly, you take his hand and intertwine your fingers. The next words to leave your lips are spoken with certainty, bringing fresh tears to his eyes.

“I’m sure it was an act of love on your part.”

His reaction is sudden, incurring your surprise. But all you can do is surrender to Capitano’s embrace, allow his free arm to hold your waist and pull you closer to him. His wings wrap around you, caging you in soft feathers and eerie blue orbs.

“Capitano?” You can only look up at him, peering into the contents of his mask.

…It’s like staring into an abyss, a night sky dotted with twinkling blue stars. But in the absence of a human likeness, his words express what a face cannot.

“Never again,” he vows, “shall I allow harm to befall you. That is a promise.”

The hand on your waist moves upwards to caress your face. His touch is light, more hesitant than his previous gestures.

“You need not serve God nor partake in fruitful labor like the other souls in Heaven. All I ask is that you rest, indulge yourself, enjoy this paradise to the fullest.”

A flower is pinned to his armor, right above his heart. You recognize it instantly—a narcissus in full bloom, stained with your blood.

“If you desire a flower, it shall grow at once. If there are any books you would like to read, they shall be brought to you shortly.”

What was the name of that variety again? Narcissus triandrus. Angel’s tears.

“If you are in need of my presence, I shall appear before you, so long as I am not in the midst of battle. And should you ever desire the opposite, I can promise my distance.”

When Capitano looks into your eyes, all he can see is his own reflection. Whatever emotion colors your gaze, it casts his true image in a compassionate light.

“I shall do everything in my power to bring you joy for all of eternity. Such will be my penance.”

“...All right.” With that, you close your eyes and lean into his touch. He feels warm, comfortingly familiar. “I’ll trust you on that.”

Rest in peace, ______.

Think not of your mortal body in the beginning stages of decay.

Think not of your tormentors who are paying for their sins in Hell.

Think only of eternity with your beloved savior.

♡

More Church AU here!! Dottore ๑ Arlecchino ๑ Pantalone

Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving other characters or dynamics who are not listed in my masterlist.

Aahhhh it's done....this idea turned out much heavier than expected, but I'm glad that I was able to write this!! I hope you all cried over enjoyed the story of Angel! Capitano and his damsel. They were truly a delight to write for~

Tag a Capitano enjoyer!! @diodellet @navxry @leftdestiny-posts @beloved-blaiddyd @bye-bye-sunbird @yandere-romanticaa @harmonysanreads @mochinon-yah @oofasleep @micchikari @whispereons @thescribeoflostmemories

[noirvette]

main 3 + butters! seeing reader in lingerie for the first time!!

first time doing headcanons and a scenario 😋 also i apologize in advance if this is bad, i've written nsfw only ONCE before and hated it so much that i never finished it BAHAHA

cws: nsfw, but nothing too explicit Aged up characters! (College au, early 20s)

♡ STAN MARSH

Thinks he died and went to heaven for a second in all honesty. Like he could not believe you standing in front of him wearing lingerie.

He saw you with it on and had to process what he was seeing, definitely stuttering as he finds the words to say

He's rocking with it though, 100%. Has always had a small thing for lingerie but didn't exactly know how to bring it up so he just never said anything lol

Stan seems to me as a more of a red satin kind of guy, simple sets work for him

Doesn't want to tear it or anything, when taking it off of you he's rather careful, more so into savoring the moment of seeing you in lingerie (and eventually you out of it).

Whether its false bravado or not, he gets over his initial shock rather quickly

"You okay? Babe?" Stan calls out, sitting on the side of your bed tapping his fingers against the frame.

"Yeah sorry, coming out now," You respond, walking out of the bathroom, covered in a simple red satin lingerie set, "you like?"

"Holy shi-, wow you look good. Damn." Stan stutters out, taking you and your outfit in, "you, uh, you didn't have to do this you know. I'm- I'm, not saying you look bad, holy shit you look so good-"

"I know I didn't have to," You giggle, a blush covering your face, walking closer to him before sitting on his lap, "but I wanted this to be special, you know for our first time. I wanted to look good for you."

Stan licks his lips, reaching to kiss and bite at your neck as his hands grip your sides before they slowly make a descent down to your hips. "Well, you always look good, doesn't matter what you got on." His fingers tug at the waistband of the underwear, "but fuck, this is so hot."

♡ KYLE BROFLOVSKI

Doesn't know what to do and he doesn't know what to say either

Definitely whines/quietly whimpers at seeing you in lingerie though

He'd be a fan of dark green lace or floral sets

Another one to be careful with taking it off of you, but its because he's so nervous

Finds the concept of lingerie initially dorky until he sees you in it and now he understands the appeal.

He is so cute bro, he has the biggest blush covering his face and he stutters and he can't make eye contact (kicking my feet and giggling as I write this about him rn), definitely repeats words and phrases as his brain is trying to think of what to say next

Kyle covers his mouth, embarrassed at the whimper that leaves him as you lift up your shirt, revealing the dark green lingerie underneath. You feel him getting even harder underneath you and you slowly roll your hips against his. Kyle quickly grabs onto your hips hard and shakily moans, hands gripping you firmly.

"Baby, baby, baby.." Kyle whines out as he stares at how well the dark green compliments your body. "Mhmm," you hum, "what is it?"

"You look so good, so good.." He looks so dazed as his eyes constantly dart over your body. Kyle is absolutely smitten with the way the lingerie sits on you.

"You like it huh?" You whisper as your bring your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. He nervously swallows and turns his head to press a kiss into your hand, before gently biting a finger while looking up at you.

Turning his head back to face you, he whimpers out a "god yes," as his hips buck up up into you, drawing a small moan out of you, "so so much."

♡ KENNY MCCORMICK

There is one singular phrase going through his head when he sees what you got on and it's "fuck me"

He's so unbelievably hard in like 2 seconds that it's alarming

He's a fan of sheer brighter colors and garters, but really any lingerie set looks good and he's really fine with anything you're putting on.

He'll rip the fabric off of you, he doesn't really care if you make a noise of complaint, he's too invested in getting him in you and making you feel good.

He'll make it up to you later by managing to get you another set later. (That he rips off you anyhow, it's a never ending cycle)

Would love to receive pictures of you in various lingerie sets. So after this whole thing of surprising him by wearing it for the first time, he'll want pictures of you from now on.

"Fuck y/n," Kenny groans, bucking himself against you, "you look so pretty. My pretty baby." His hands wander over your body, feeling the thin material and your skin causing him to become impatient.

Kenny leans forward to suck at your neck, causing you to let out small moans. "I need, need, this off of you. Now." Before you're able to say anything, he tugs at the top half a bit too roughly, ripping the thin material into halves.

"Kenny!" You exclaim, shock and annoyance evident in your tone.

Kenny stops briefly and he lets out a small laugh before kissing you, "I'm sorry hun, can't wait. Need you now. Gotta make you feel good."

You huff, "This was a bit pricey, Ken. How are you gonna make this one up?"

He snorts, before flipping you over and situating you so his face is pressed between your thighs, "Oh I'll make it up to you baby, and then some, promise."

♡ BUTTERS STOTCH

Another blushy and nervous wreck to see you in lingerie.

I feel he'd LOVE white sets, design doesn't matter, but there's something about wearing white in his eyes that just.. gets him going yk?

He definitely has a battle with himself on where to place his hands. Do you want them on your waist, hips, do you want to hold hands? What if he rips the fabric?

Stutters out compliments. Compliments you the whole time actually, his eyes nervously watch your every movement

He loves if you brush your body still clad with the lingerie against his bare skin. The feeling of technical skin contact but thin material between you two has got him in a chokehold for some reason

Calls you his angel because of the white lingerie and how beautiful/ethereal you look to him right now

Butters believes this is how he dies, underneath you, clad in a sheer white lingerie set. You slowly drag your fingers against his skin and he finds himself without a single complaint as to how he would be dying. He finds himself without many thoughts actually and the ones he does have are just about you.

"Oh god angel," Butters shudders, his brain turning into mush at the feeling of your body against his. His hands hovering just above your thighs, as he nervously thumbs at the material draped over them.

You giggle at his behavior, "you can touch me, you know?"

"O-oh, I know honey, but, you.. you just look so gosh darn gorgeous and..." he trails off, adams apple bobbing as your drag your hands along his waist. "..and what, Butters..?" You whisper against his ear.

His hands grip your thighs and bites his lip. "I want you.. please honey, my angel." He shifts underneath you, hoping you catch the hint and quit teasing him.

[offbrandkyoya]

Lights, Camera, Action! - scaramouche x reader smau

summary:

you’re best friends with the famous band of all time, 5WIRL. however, DCKZ are rising to the top which are leaving your friends in the dust. the solution: add a new member, a new face to start some attention! it did cause attention alright, especially for your heart.

pairing: scaramouche x gn!reader

genre: band au, smau, fluff, crack, celebrity x reader, angst

warning: cursing, scandals, false rumors, kys jokes, mistreatment

status: completed!

taglist: closed :(

5WIRL the lovers DCKZ

Prologue: 1 & 2

01: congratulations! (you’re fucked)

02: common venti L

03: todays the day

04: childe has 0 rizz

05: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, SIX

06: let’s do it

07: << egg sandwiches

08: not your wife

09: fake birthday

10: scarapoo

11: sandwich kisses

12: stay mad

13: kaeyas delusional era

14: yn’s love life

15: SCARA!

16: therapist venti

17: the first show

18: bitchy woman

19: cricket cricket

20: just a friend

21: oh

22: strong

23: retweet

24: im glad to have met you

25: the delusions won

26: HE WANT ME

27: yes

28: TEN?????

29: giggling

30: hoe list

31: date night

32: together 4eva

33: bf reveal

34: enough is enough

35: best friends

36: sugar booger

37: marriage arc

38: fucking kids

39: by my side

40: kazurizz

41: oops i did it again

42: suck it up

43: stupid + stupid

44: = scarayn

45: angel from heaven

46: jealousy jealousy

47: boy what

48: fine then

49: feelings suck

50: hopefully

51: I’m Sorry

52: two weeks!?

53: he’s everywhere

54: bitchless era

55: good luck (you need it)

56: the artist named “….”

57: bye boyfie

58: love confessions

59: yn the widow

60: scara the widower

61: NOW NOW NOW

62: TAY

63: PAC-MAN

64: horrible people

65: pussy

66: big fan

67: what about us?

68: ten kids confirmed

69: crashing down

70: sleeping beauty

71: Goodbye Moon

72: new you new me

73: rattled cages

74: Better luck next time

75: Here Goes

76: Therefore, you and me

77: communication is key

78: the art of love

79: last show

80: thoma ache

81: masked singer

82: think about it

83: haters gonna hate

84: mamas boy

85: you hafta

86: it’s over

87: 2 brothers 2 men

88: Yns Mona Lisa

89: star

90: horn dog

91: win or lose

92: fight club

93: warmth

94: This is Life

95: Epilogue

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Masturfesting w/ Mikey

♡ NSFW, fem reader, masturbation + manifesting, delusion, established friendship, panty stealing, perv!Mikey, college au ♡

note: my beautiful moot @i-literally-cant-with-this gave me this little idea 🩷 I started at 2am and finished around 3, its 6:30 right now so yeah lol I need some rest

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

You and Mikey had always been close growing up, and that didn't change one bit when you two got to college. Of course he was still out partying and fighting with his friends, those things, along with your presence, were the only things he kept consistent. But a lot of things changed, he started becoming more aware of himself, of his feelings towards you, and of his place in your life. He knew he wanted a relationship with you, but wasn't sure how to approach you. So he did what he thought was best and started doing some research.

He discovered a lot of romance coaches, wikiHow articles and unhelpful stuff like that, but then he struck what he thought was a gold mine. He discovered the spiritual side of love, specifically types of love potions and spells. He was never one to believe in magic but it couldn't hurt to try. The one that caught his eye? Masturfesting. It was so disgustingly delusional, it just had to work. And so, he started a routine. Everytime he was hard, he'd go on your social media pages, scroll through, and find a picture he could get off to. He'd start off slow, savoring the moment and imagining your pretty hands wrapped around his dick. He'd finish pretty quickly, staining his phone and the picture of you on the screen with gooey strings of cum.

This became a daily occurrence for him, but as of late he felt like it wasn't working. He needed to go further, to do something more…risky. So he walked to your dorm after class, under the false pretenses of having a study session. You two were in your room laying on a pile of pillows on the floor, flipping through textbooks, when suddenly you had to use the bathroom. You left the room, giving Mikey the chance to take his masturfesting to the next level. He rooted around in your dirty laundry, stealing a pair of your panties and pocketing them for himself. You came out of the bathroom and were none the wiser.

After the study session was over he went back to his dorm, rushing to the bathroom to make use of your panties. The soft material felt like heaven wrapped around him, and he couldn't help but imagine thrusting into your pretty pussy instead of his hand. The way they felt, the way they looked, the way they smelled, everything turned him on and made him even more determined to have you for himself. He fully believed that his disgusting actions would result in you unknowingly falling head over heels for him, and maybe it would…or maybe he's just delusional as all hell. Either way he's not gonna stop, not anytime soon, not until he's sure you'll want him as much as he wants you.

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies

[arachnoia]

7 minutes | hobie brown

pairing- college au! hobie brown x fem! reader

a/n | warnings- mentions of drugs, nsfw, partying, reader has snake bites and nipple piercings, just a drabble! requests are opennnn

You felt almost reckless the moment you stepped into the party. You haven’t even drank alcohol at that point but you felt almost drunk from adrenaline.

You’d broken up with your boyfriend over some issues and your friend Margo recommended you go to a party hosted by your friend Pavitr from your Spanish class. It was better than being depressed and looking over texts telling you sweet nothings and false “I love you”s.

You cringed and pursed your lips as you felt the drink you had burn its flavor on your tongue. “Fuck.”

Margo went off with your roommate Gwen to get high off some new weed she bought from a guy in one of her classes. They went and dragged Miles along who was already munching on a rice crispy edible.

You didn’t feel like hot shit as you thought you were. You just stared at everyone get drunk, high, make out, and have fun. Occasionally see some girls skinny dip in the pool.

You nodded your head at some random rap song and frowned. Here you were, in the sexiest, most revealing outfit you had that, at first, made you feel good. But now you just want to go back to your sweats and cry your eyes out over The Notebook.

“Nice party huh?” You turned over to the voice who poured himself some of the Pink Whitney you had next to you on the counter.

His name was Hobie. You knew him from being in Gwen’s band as a guitarist. You never paid much attention to him since he had already finished college and just came over when Gwen wanted to discuss band stuff.

You won’t lie that you did enjoy looking at him but you had a boyfriend so that didn’t matter.

Key word: had.

“I guess. But y’know. I’m not really in the mood to strip and show the whole world my tits so…”

You were in the kitchen and played around with your glass. The white lights were in definite contrast to the darkness of the rest of the house, which almost hurt your eyes at how bright they were. You almost felt like an outlier at how you were there obviously and not out there getting your brains fucked by some frat boy who wouldn’t remember you in the next hour.

He chuckled and took another swig of his drink before pouring some Malibu, “So you have some jokes apart from your pretty face, huh?”

You were almost startled by how bold he was and whipped your head at him, who was smirking at you and looking down at you.

He had a nice accent but damn, you couldn’t help but feel a bit flustered at how fine he was.

You never really paid attention but you almost wished you did as horrible as that sounds. Hobie was the complete opposite of your ex-boyfriend who was boring and uptight whereas Hobie was dauntless and intrepid.

From what you knew of him.

What allured you most though, was his lip piercing on the left side of his face.

Oh, how much you wanted to feel its cold metal as you made out with him and feel it pressed against your lips.

“Aren’t you bold,” you yelled out. The music got even louder as some dancing people started yelling a little when some songs started playing. It was almost juvenile how they were jumping.

But then again you can’t judge because you were just feeling moody a few minutes ago about not being fucked.

He leaned closer to you to accentuate every syllable that slipped from his lips, smelling the alcohol on his breath, “It’s better to be bold. Wouldn’t you say?”

You felt excited and caressed his face, feeling the vodka kick in and playing with his lip ring using your index finger.

“Why don’t we take this upstairs, darling?”

Before you went along with him, you got dragged into a circle of different people where they had you and Hobie join. It happened so quick, you couldn’t recall what you thought but now you were apart of a circle, next to him.

“Oh we’re just playing 7 minutes in Heaven.”

You mentally cringed at the idea. That was like something you played in a high school house party.

This is college. It’s supposed to be at least a little more sophisticated.

“I…”

Hobie peered down at you and held your wrist, “C’mon, it should at least be a bit fun?”

You were spaced out and imagined all the things you could do with his lip ring, like feeling it against your pussy. Just thinking about it made you smile a bit and feel horny.

You licked your lips until someone else, tapped your shoulder, “It’s your turn.”

It was almost comical how you were going to hook up with this guy and then ended up trapped in a closet with him for seven minutes.

Talk about coincidence.

The closet was tiny and bare, with just the both of you barely fitting in and you being pressed against his chest, smelling his cologne.

It smelled sexy.

“So…”

“…So”

You both made eye contact to stop the discomfiture. It had only been a few seconds of being there and it felt awkward.

“Some party, huh?”

You tried to nod without hitting his chest with your head, “I guess. I’ve been to better.”

His eyes had a glint as he peered down at you to make eye contact again, “Oh, so you party?”

You chuckled, “Well not as I used to. My boyfriend would disapprove and not be very fond of that and would prefer to stay at my apart-“

He raised his eyebrow before he interrupted you, “Oh. Wait, the wanker with the nerdy ass glasses was your boyfriend? Him?!”

You chuckled at his surprised reaction, “Yeah. But he’s okay I guess.”

You were forced to look up as he held your chin and played with your bottom lip, flicking your snake bites.

You felt his lips crash onto yours, feeling the cold metal of his lip piercing and smiling at the cool feeling. He started to caress your ass and kissed your neck, “C’mon, we have 6 minutes left. Let’s make it quick.”

He managed to slide his fingers through your panties underneath your skirt and start to abuse your clit, making it hard not to start moaning.

He started to take off your tight corset top, exposing your pierced hardened nipples and attacking your sensitive breasts. He stopped a bit, making a ‘pop’ noise to gawk at your breasts, “I feel a bit honored to see them now, considering you didn’t want to flash them.”

His breathlessness made you even more turned on and gasped as he started to flick your nipples with his tongue.

“They’re beautiful…you’re beautiful…”

You gasped and whimpered slightly as he worked his fingers even faster as he muttered sweet words to you, “Please…faster.”

“C’mon, baby.” The feeling of the cold rings on his index only sent more chills down your spine as it touched your warm walls.

He quickly undid his belt and lowered down his boxers. You felt him lower you down to suck his cock, grazed with precum, and decorated with a Prince Albert piercing. That alone made your core throb.

You raised your eyebrow as he flashed you a mischievous smirk, “Problem?”

You smiled and bit your lip up at him.

“Nope,” and without giving him a chance to fire back, you took him fully and started to bob your head back and forth. You felt your eyes glaze with tears as you felt him reach the end of your throat.

“Fuck, babe…” He bit his lips and pulled your hair for to feel your throat feel tighter on his cock.

Before he could release, he brought you to kiss you, feeling his cold piercing on your lips. You felt him smile in the kiss and kneaded your breasts, playing with the rods pierced and rubbing on them, making you gasp.

He started to rub his dick against your pussy, biting your lip and kissed you even harder to stop you from moaning louder after he slid into you, slowly as he felt you clench tighter on him. He pushed you against the closet wall to go deeper, holding your leg up to position himself even more. It felt cathartic, almost.

“Oh fuck…Please do it like that,” you muttered, gasping for air like your life depended on it. You felt a plethora of pleasure as he kept going and kneaded your breasts intensely.

You felt him twitch inside you and smiled, hearing him groan and gasping as you felt him release and fill you up.

Before you could go again, completely lost, you heard banging from the door and someone yell: “Times up!”

You pursed your lips and tried to fix yourself together and before you knew it, Hobie went out the door and looked back at you, smiling, “We should go at it again sometime. It was fun.”

You gave him a dopey smile, half from being sex-drunk and other half from being actually drunk. It was embarrassing how your tits were being exposed and your skirt was lifted all the way up.

At least he wasn’t an ass and actually closed the door.

So much for college being sophisticated.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“Is she awake..?”

“I don’t even know if this bitch is even alive.”

You groaned and covered your eyes from the sunlight.

“Well she’s alive.”

“Do you feel better now?” Gwen smiled at you sadly. You didn’t remember what you told her as your eyes fluttered from sleeping on the couch after being drunk as fuck the night before.

You got up to sit before feeling pain from your lower body, “FUCK!”

“I saw you with Hobie yesterday, Ms. Y/L/N…” Margo said as she hit her pen.

Gwen’s caring expression shifted to one of disgust, “You can’t be fucking for real, Y/N.”

You pursed your lips in confirmation of whatever she thought.

“Y/N…Y’know I’m all for having hook-ups and whatever and girl, he’s my friend but he’s not the one for you. I know how much Peter-“

“Don’t finish that sentence and don’t bring him into this. And why? You literally said you two are friends?!” You got up and leaned on your elbows to look at her.

Gwen crossed her arms and refused to look at you.

You frowned and turned over more to look at her. “What the hell? You’re acting as if I just committed a fucking cardinal sin?!”

“Y/N! As much as Parker hurt you, that doesn’t give you a free pass for you to start trusting any random guy at a goddamn house party.”

Your eyes widened at what she told you. “So you’re tryna say I’m a hoe now?”

Margo covered her mouth and took another hit, “Oh damn.”

She winced at your voice crack, “No. I’m just trying to tell you to be careful…”

“Why?!”

“BECAUSE HE’S A HOE.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding…”

You turned to Margo who shrugged, “She’s not wrong. Hobie has a thing for one-night stands and uh, leaving them.”

“Listen, he’s a nice person but he’s a little bitch and won’t hesitate to crush you if you gain feelings.”

Her words made your stomach flip, not because of the several shots of tequila you took after. But more so due to feeling naïve.

It couldn’t be helped. His personality was alluring as it was mysterious and addictive.

You nodded, earning a smile from Margo, before you three turned to the sound of a knock at the door.

“Hah. Imagine it’s him. Hobie Hobie Hobie,” you joked, earning a smile from Gwen as you chanted Hobie’s name quietly like he was Beetlejuice.

“I’ll get it,” Margo said and went over to open the door to a smirking Hobie, leaning against the door frame. He has his classic leather jacket and smoked a blunt while still leaning.

Gwen’s face dropped, “Speak of the fucking devil…”

“Hey.”

.

.

masterlist

[lovelybrooke]

Heya, this is about your immortal reader au, I just can't stop thinking about a scenario where reader is back at the human world but somehow bumps into Adam.

Like, while at work, walking home or even school grounds they meet a strange man that seems extremely interested in being friends with them. I just imagine that somewhere around the time where reader disappeared from hell, heaven would be searching, and to Adam, if he can't find them in hell, why not look in the human world?

It makes sense(kinda) since Adam can probably go down to earth any time he wants without permission, because well, he is Adam, he even looks human, so in earth, nobody would even blink an eye while he's there.

Of course, I can't imagine sera knowing about it, I believe that she would not allow it, so he goes in secret and actually manages to find reader, who is very confused and perhaps anxious of why they have been approached by a random ass man, maybe he offers help with something? But again with Adams personality I'm not really sure about possible interactions. Like maybe they originally meet at some cafe and somehow bond over rock music? Perhaps Its a strange but not unwelcome change in their normal routine? Would Adam try to act like a father figure or more like an older brother? (Given his personality I'll bet on the latter)

And to Adam at least, it would give him something to hold over hell, he can interact with the reader off of hell and heaven, in earth, something that Alastor and Lucifer probably can't do.

(sorry if this ask is too long, I would love to hear your thoughts about this silly little idea, and if you're in a mood for it, maybe you could write some scenarios about it?

Not sure if it's a good idea or not, tell me if you want me to stop if it gets troublesome)

Best regards ☀️🌹 :)

so I mentioned this idea in this post here, but this is totally something Adam does. At the time I didn't put it in my canon masterlist but I think I will now.

It would take a while for him and reader to bond, because if reader does recognize him, then all they're thinking about is that Adam literally tried to kill all their friends not to long ago. I don't think Adam would regret his actions per se, but I think he would put on a false sense of guilt to gain readers trust. Once he does I see reader and Adam hanging out all the time, usually away from their house since reader doesn't want Adam and their mother meeting.

I've wanted to write this for a while, but imagine Adam being the first to see what readers home life is really like. Like he walks reader home at night, and when he comes inside he sees readers mother sitting there, smoking and very drunk, bossing reader around the moment they come into the house. She doesn't even notice that Adam is there, and he's just like "who is this bitch..."

I don't know, I think Adam would want to be something in readers life, closer to a brother, but the specifics don't really matter.

[nobody-nexus]

TADC AU Theme Songs! Cause Why Not?

I'll be saying the AU, sending the link, and @ing the person who owns the AU as well as gives my reasonings for the theme song. I just think giving some love to AUs would be cool!

Carnival AU - Belonging to @sm-baby - Puppets Never Die Why?: Honestly it's about two people working together to leave a harmful situation and everyone's trying to stop them- it's legit THE plot of this AU. That, plus the voices fit the characters

Freakshow AU - Belonging to @hootbon - Freak Show (PI3RCE) Why?: I legit was listening to this at a grocery store and I was just thinking about this AU listening to it. Aside from the name, it feels like it's trying to lure Freakshow!Pomni into a false sense of security

Horror Circus AU - Belonging to @thc-au - HEAVEN SAYS (MM) Why?: It has the energy of THC!Pomni taunting Caine alongside the other horror circus cast and I adore every moment of that energy. She HAS that mocking energy of "Lmao try to beat us YA CAN'T"

Circus of Hell AU - Belonging to @circus-of-hell - Uh Oh! Why?: It's about making mistakes and calling out being a liar, and although I dunno a LOT about the AU cause I didn't make it, I do know that this seems to be the vibes from this AU so yeah why not?

Corruption AU - Belonging to @rabid-mercenary15 - Sleepwalk Why?: The part of this song that goes 'then it becomes a problem' for some reason gives off SUCH 'the others corrupting' vibes, also it's almost like this is a way to narrate Zooble and Pomni surviving

Ragamaster AU - Belonging to @milezperprower - Happy Face Why?: From the information that I know, this song is fucking PERFECT- specifically for Ragatha in this AU herself. Smile through the pain while being a bitchy girlboss as they say <333

Terrible Circus AU - Belonging to @obamerzslop - Shit Why?: Although it's more of a comedic option, I feel like this song literally just fits the entire vibe of the AU- as if "POV you're in the terrible circus and you hate it here" kind of song- thus why it's here

That's all that ones I thought of! If I think of more, I shall update this! For now, have a nice day! And for those who own the AUs I mentioned, I REALLY HOPE I got the vibes down cause honestly I've been wanting to do this for a while and uhhhh yeah sorry for bothering you with this it's been in my head for days now and I wanted to get it out and into the world

Have a lovely day folks ^^

[mesywelch]

Don't Cry, Baby | College AU | Chapter 1

Paring: Rafe Cameron X Reader

Summary: Growing up in a sheltered family, safe and secure amongst people you could trust was, according to you, heaven, despite how some tend to doubt its consequences. But you did not expect your safe bubble to pop so suddenly when you entered college - the atmosphere so dazzlingly stark, that it was proving to be a difficult challenge to navigate around. Especially when one of the students gets painfully curious about the new girl.

Warnings: Talks about sex, swearing, drugs, possible smut.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

"So you've never had sex." 

My jaw hung open at his bluntness, eyes gauging him from my position on the rough bed as I looked up at his tall frame. I quickly shook away my telling expression, however, loosening the grip on my ankles; the surprise I felt was immense but Rafe didn't have to know that. 

How the conversation slid its way onto the topic of sex wasn't clear to me. I suppose Rafe was the first to impose the subject, something about Kelce and his new girlfriend, but then the questions were being thrown at me, while I unsuspectingly debated which outfit to wear, my limited selection sprawled across my bed. 

My attempts to answer them euphemistically, I had to admit, were a bit suspicious, and it was no time before Rafe began to catch on to the implications of my tone. Now that the truth was out in the open, something shifted in his eyes, and his speech transformed entirely. I had only known Rafe for a few days, having met him in the hallway of our dorms, but he was never so daring in our increasingly longer interactions, nor so friendly like he was and continued to be in our current one. 

I certainly did not expect us to get close enough to talk about sex (something I had only shyly whispered about with girl friends in high school) but everything in this new college environment was taking me aback—especially their…. openness, I guess, was the appropriate word. I was also familiar with their weird fascination with virgins, which is why…..

Shrugging in false casualty, I squeaked out uneasily, "Yes." 

Rafe paced up and down my humble room, his body comically large in its small confines, and looked at me with narrowed eyes, hand running through his blonde hair that shone alluringly under the window's sunlight. Even though he tried his hardest not to show it, behind his look of suspicion, I could sense a whole lot of amusement. And the smirk gracing his lips when I interrupted his attempt to speak just made it plain obvious.  

"You promised." I warned, referring to his words that assured me of no mockery after I answered his question, or rather, observation. 

"I wasn't gonna tease." 

I scoffed, disbelieving. "You were!" 

"No, actually. I was simply going to ask," He paused, building up the tension that only I was feeling, as he walked closer to where I sat on the bed. With a mischievous grin, he continued, "if you'd ever watched porn." 

"Why are we having this conversation again?" I groaned, falling back on the bed. The evening was visibly disappearing behind the window, and instead of heading out for a friend's birthday party, as we were supposed to, I was stuck in my dorm with Rafe for some reason. I didn't even remember why he was in here in the first place instead of getting ready too. Just a comment about how he 'didn't need to'.  

"Answer the question." 

"Can't we do this after Ruby's party?" My words came out whiny and childish, and I mentally slapped myself for acting like this in front of a practical stranger and so hurriedly sat up straight. Ruby was another friend I made, our meeting occurring at the end of my first ever lecture. Approaching me with a dazzling smile, she was sensitive enough to my anxiety and bought me a cup of coffee, in her own words, as a peace treaty. A few days later, an e-invite to her birthday was sitting in my unread messages. Gazing at Rafe's uncharacteristically curious face, I was reminded of something he had said earlier when I asked him for a ride to the party to which he apparently was also invited. "Weren't you gonna ask her out?" 

"What?" 

"Ruby. You said you were gonna ask her out." I quickly checked the clock on my bedside table for the time and hustled out of bed with a gasp, mind half on settling with a dress choice and half on the memory of Rafe leaning against his doorframe a few hours ago, chest puffed out, and voice breezy as he announced his intentions to woo Ruby. It felt odd in the moment but then led to an uncomfortable train of thought that if Rafe, who had been established as The Man on campus by everyone I talked to, was interested in Ruby, then she must have been The Woman of the campus. The queen bee, if you will. The uncomfortable factor lent itself to my ultimate insignificance in the grand scheme of things, but that was a heavy topic to uncover. 

Rafe remained silent for a bit, seemingly just as contemplative as I was, blankly watching me run around the room as I struggled to assemble a pretty outfit. I was confused about how Rafe, a guy who always looks like he has somewhere more important to be, could stand so stubbornly in my dorm, of all things. There was something off about that image. 

I heard him draw a sharp breath before repeating, "Have you or have you not watched porn?" 

Baffled at his ignorance, I gave him the harshest look I could muster, but it ended up infused with hesitance. His lips curled into that familiar, teasing smirk he had begun to give me these days when I passed him on my way to lectures, saw him at restaurants, or, most commonly, bumped into him in the dormitory hallways. My friendly wave was only ever reciprocated through a smirk or a grin, his friends chuckling mockingly at my small display. But none was as cunning as it was today, as he eagerly dug to learn more intimate details about my life.  

"Rafe, seriously, Is-it-really-that-big-of-a-deal-if-I-haven't? And can you stop pacing? It's making me anxious..."

He did stop, but I didn't think it was because I said so.  

"No… fucking way. Are you kidding?" 

"See, this is why I don't say this sort of stuff! Because you- all of you react like this!" Having been done with this interaction, I walked over to the attached bathroom, a random blue outfit in my hands.  

Behind me, I could still sense Rafe drenched in confusion. I turned on the bedside lamp. 

"But…. why?" 

"'Why' what?" 

"You haven't fucked anyone, you haven't watched porn, and you flinch at the topic of it as if it physically fucking hurts you…. You're not a prude, are you?" He spit the word like it was poison, and my head snapped to him, feeling a rush of offence flow through me, even though the label might have been accurate. I did not appreciate the connotations it held. "I don't think I've ever heard you swear either." 

Overwhelmed at his examination, my breathing quickened. Why did he say all of it like it was a bad thing? Was it a bad thing? 

My eyes unconsciously trained onto Rafe's lips when he stepped forward; they were a striking shade of pink, complementary to his blue eyes, as they moved, forming condescending strings of words that went through one ear and out the other. I couldn't get myself to focus when put under his bright flashlight, and I began to wonder if this was really how friends spoke to each other in this place. 

"Get out." 

He looked pleasantly surprised at the authority in my tone. To be honest, I was surprised too. "You're telling me to 'get out'?" 

Sparing him an apprehensive glance, I repeated. "G-get out." 

When silence followed, I thought he'd finally listen to me for the first time in his life. But then a hand placed itself on my bare shoulder, and I shuddered, attempting to shrug it off immediately. He didn't budge, firmly digging his fingers into my skin as he looked down on me. I persisted in my struggle to escape his grasp. 

"Stop moving. Why are you acting like a brat all of a sudden, hm?" 

I slowly tilted my head to look at him, my short-lived resolve crumbling at the intensity of his close proximity and eyes embarrassingly growing moist at his comments. Thankfully, Rafe didn't notice. 

"I-i'm not." 

Under the dim lighting, he reached behind me with his long arm towards the bed, the collar of his polo shirt brushing against my skin. I was practically trapped between him and the bed and looked sideways at the window instead, trying to control my discomfort. When he returned from his excursion, I saw him fingering the fabric of a white dress I purposefully chose to ignore earlier—the material a little too sheer for my liking, a little too thin. But it seemed to have caught Rafe's attention because he pushed it into my chest and snatched away the one in my hands. 

"Wear that one and meet me downstairs." 

"...I don't want to wear it, though." 

"Did I ask?" He said, annoyed, waving his arm at my small room, my mess of an outfit, my behaviour. When he put distance between us by taking two large backward steps, I thought he was finally leaving. And he did. For a second. Before I could wipe my glistening eyes, Rafe popped his head back through the door. "Also, a 19 year old who hasn't watched porn is rare as fuck." He nodded as if telling a universal truth. "Sure, there are plenty of virgins on campus, but no porn?" He whistled mockingly, and I wished he left me alone already, biting back words that I knew would worsen the situation. "That's a whole new league. Consider yourself lucky you've told me first, ‘cause people are gonna mess with you." 

"And you aren't?" 

Rafe chuckled, but I continued.

"...Sex—" I looked away, feeling the need to defend myself. "Sex is… scary, okay?" 

Rafe couldn't have looked more amused. 

"What did you just say?" He re-entered the room, pushing fallen strands of his hair back into its slick style, and I sighed. I just drew him back in.  

"Forget it." 

"Aw," He laughed boisterously, and I shook, startled at the low edge to his chuckles. He was enjoying this (?). "Does the idea of a good fuck scare you? Such a poor little girl…" 

I was mortified. How was this the same person I was talking to a couple hours ago? "Stop it." 

"Have you ever even seen a cock in your life?" His palm slid down to his shorts, and assuming—quite understandably, I would think—that it was to demonstrate his question, I covered my eyes with my palms, letting out a flustered 'Ah!'. 

"Oh my fucking god."

If I thought he was chuckling earlier, he was dying of laughter when I opened my eyes—hand clutching his stomach and everything. It turns out he was merely adjusting his shorts, but he didn't bother clarifying the unsaid question, preferring the alternative. It was infuriating. But I didn't understand how to let him know that when my very existence seemed to have become a piece of entertainment to him. 

"Okay, I've had enough of you." The sun was falling lower and lower out the window, the room darker and darker; I was clearly going to be late to the party and lose one of the only kind people I had met here— all because of Rafe- a name that was starting to sound more rough in my head, the 'r' more sinister. "Just get out of here and take me to the goddamn party. Or I'll just ask someone else." 

"Whoa, calm down baby." He replied, only barely recovering from his fit. 

"Don't talk like that." 

"Like what? Call you 'baby'? Do you prefer 'princess'? Little baby princess that can't handle a little dick-talk?" Rafe grinned wolfishly. "And who are you gonna ask anyway? You're not exactly flooded with options. Ruby is at the party, that small girl- what's her name- Maria something, I bet she isn't even invited— and oh my god, I'd rather kill myself than let you ask that new friend of yours. Heyward."  

His detailed knowledge of my only acquaintances was disturbing, but that feeling was suppressed by the fact that he was right. I didn't even have Pope's number. God, this man had just dropped too many things at once, and I needed to get myself alone if I wanted to form a single sensible thought. Not knowing what else to do, I decided to follow an impulse for the first time, a bold one too. 

I, uh, pushed Rafe out of my room and slammed the door in his face. 

"Hey!" He banged his fist on the wood. 

I said nothing. 

"....Be down in two. I'm gonna leave you here if you're any later!" I wanted to scream in his face that he was the reason why we were late, but I remained silent. "bitch." 

I knew he was only saying it to rile me up, but nevertheless, I wiped the tear that threatened to roll down my cheek, undressing to put on the dress Rafe chose. It was my sister's, one that she threw in my luggage as a joke. A mockery of what could be because she knew I would never wear it. 

I traced the shimmering jewels on its surface and scoffed. When I exited the room and locked it, I thought of my sister's disbelief if she was here, watching me walk out into public, uncomfortable in white.  

I quickly hurried down the staircase but stopped in my tracks when I saw Rafe conversing with a small portion of his usually massive friend group, the rest having already left for the party. 

Rafe hadn't changed except for a cap resting backwards on his head. Beside him, I recognised Topper and Kelce, but there were a few other guys that looked unfamiliar. A couple of girls huddled by him too, dressed in cute outfits, lips covered in pretty lip gloss, and hair done perfectly. 

Jealousy was a feeling I had harboured way too much during high school and I had vowed to quit that habit in college but as I walked towards Rafe, face slightly ducked down, I was ashamed that jealous was exactly what I was, insecure about my ill-fitting clothes, my highly fluctuating emotional state. Something that was sure to be a bother to everyone around me, if it bothered Rafe. 

It was perhaps stupid of me that I was still allowing said man to take me to the party despite his invasive behaviour from earlier, but it would be worse if I took back my request, surely sounding like an absolute coward who couldn't handle a little intensity. And this place was all about intensity, excess. 

When I reached the crowd, a silence fell over the atmosphere, and I cringed. Rafe glanced at me fleetingly before sharing loud, obnoxious goodbyes with his friends, who were subjecting him to questioning looks regarding my presence. But I hadn't noticed his second glance, which stayed on me comparatively longer. 

"C'mon, baby." 

Not wanting to embarrass myself further, I didn't reprimand him for his choice of nickname and hopped into his massive truck standing still under the young night.  Chapter 2

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ A/N: Editing this mess made me realise that I am an overthinker to such a degree that its seeping into every character I write. LIKE THIS WOMAN IS SWITCHING THOUGHTS EVERY TWO SECONDS. Anyways, do comment your thoughts! And any direction you would like this series to go (cuz i dont have a plan YIKES).

[snick-cooler]

Also while I'm at it, fuck it, check out my stupid Angel Hare AU

It's based off that False Gabby vid from the creators, but False Gabby trains Jonah to become a formidable, lumbering serial killer.

Jonah is now a mostly mute behemoth of a man, hiding his identity with a Bunny mask Gabby gets him after his face is burnt and disfigured. He's a bit absent-minded since instead of being taught life lessons, he was being guided on how to clean up crime scenes, but with his "angel" by his side, he can't ever fail.

Gabby (or False Gabby) is a bit of a mystery, whether she's the true Gabriel or not is never stated. However, she still cares for Jonah in her wicked, odd ways. Her words can be harsh, and she's a bit ill tempered sometimes, but loves him regardless. Unlike her more wholesome counterpart, she can sort of "manifest" in the real world by causing people to hallucinate her. If you see Jonah, expect to see her soon after.

Jonah's hometown is constantly haunted by rumors of the Bunny Face Killer, and any remnants of Jonah or the Whitman family disappeared years ago to a flood. Only a miracle from the heavens above will be able to free the town of this bloody curse...

(also take this song I HEAVILY associate with them huehue)

[atinyreads]

ATEEZ Fics that I recommend

from @atinyreads

note: aand here comes another set of my favorites! im not gonna get sick saying this over and over again, but i swear to god i love all of them (maybe developed an obsession with some)

Hongjoong

Hongjoong Fic by @mymoodwriting

Angry sex w/ Pirate HJ by @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

To you, 2000 years from now by @paradiqms

The red one by @thelargefrye

To good to be true by @l0vecity

Pirate Hongjoong by @i-luvsang

Ugly dragon by @thelargefrye

Breath by @last-words-ofashootingstar

Hongjoong reaction by @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

Overstim by @ja3hwa

Rare blood by @kpopmission

Tear me apart by @mi-rae07

Treasure by @mi-rae07

Pirate Captain Hongjoong by @rosy-wooyoung

Pillows by @mi-rae07

Seonghwa

Vampire Seonghwa by @mymoodwriting

Rebel Rebel by @mingiswow

Acanthus by @ilovebokutokoutaro

Caught in time by @mineogi

Mr Park by @mingis-lightbulb

The biggest star by @mi-rae07

Shatter me by @mi-rae07

Dom-estique by @hwanchaesong

Home by @justhere4kpop

Gentle by @cheollipop

San

Heaven is a place in hell with you by @monstaxdirtywonk

Yellow flicker beat by @thelargefrye

Favorite privileges by @bambikisss

Mingi

Yungi reaction by @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

What I deserve by @mi-rae07

Wooyoung

The chains that bind by @a1sh1teruu

Yunho

Yungi reaction by @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

Mafia Yunho by @whatsk-poppinhomies

Yeosang

Cupid by @sector-i

Yellow flicker beat by @thelargefrye

Dream come true by @mi-rae07

Jongho

Touch by @minranghae

Spit kink by @ja3hwa

Just like that by @mi-rae07

OT8

Pirate au by @mymoodwriting

Vampire au by @mymoodwriting

Robery au by @ohmyamor

Loved by @a-soft-hornytiny

False accusation by @a-soft-hornytiny

Winters child by @thelargefrye

Watch your back by @mangishii

For eternal by @shinescape

Fire of my passion by @songmingisthighs

[quirklessidiot]

title: hell's favorite secretary [sneak peak] pairing : Devil!Ryomen Sukuna x F!Lost soul!reader [based on the webtoon 'the devil is a handsome man', DC Comics "Lucifer", and the book and video game 'Dante's inferno'] Genre: Alternate Universe-Hell, angst, mystery/thriller, mild horror, romance, slow burn, hell au, dark comedy, lost soul x devil au

Summary: The faceless man shrouded in mystery tends to be a subject of rumors and false pretenses, but you'd think otherwise when you accidentally caught sight of those grueling red eyes.

General warning for the story: graphic depictions of heavy gore (manslaughter, mayhem, and torture), and explicit sexual scenes, more will be added per chapter. this will be exclusively released in ao3 in december <3 Notes: after reading a couple of pages of dante's inferno, reading lucifer (the comic book), and the devil is a handsome man, it sort of struck my interest to write this story! this is a pretty long series and im actually so excitied to write this lol.

if you're a person heavily practicing the catholic faith, i won't recommend reading this series as this talks and leans on the devil (i'm not a satanist pls), he's not glorified here in anyways but I do recall people who lean heavily on the faith are not fond of reading any media depictions of the devil.

i hope you enjoy! rb's are always appreciated.

There are possibly hundreds of artworks about the devil. 

The most famous one is that snake hanging off the forbidden tree or, better yet, a half-animal and half-human. Others would be an ugly babe falling down from the heavens. The most popular modern one would be the one in red with horns on his head, yet your boss did not resemble any of those impressions. Instead, he wore a three-piece suit and had a hole right in the middle of his face.

Yes, you heard that right.

A hole. 

All you could see was an empty void of black nothingness. Nobara had said that Sukuna – yes, the devil went by that name — would never show his face to lost souls like you because, as an angel before, seeing him in his proper form would result in instantaneous combustion. 

Despite that good reason, talking to him was still disconcerting. The whole situation remained to be anomalous.

The ringing thoughts about your previous conversation with your workmate replay in your head like a broken record, your eyes trickling on the piles of paperwork across the window that revealed your boss leaning against the table with his usual outfit and pink tufts of hair neatly styled away.

You recalled meeting him for the first time and wondering why he seemed somewhat familiar. You had overtly eyed him up and down. Despite the hole in his face, he had caught on quickly and asked what exactly you were doing. Until now, you couldn’t understand the physics behind how he could even see you and talk.

You purse your lips in deep thought as lines form in the middle of your head. You don’t even feel your boss walking up to you on your desk, “Seems like someone’s head is up in the clouds this morning.” he points out.

You immediately sat up straight, your shoulders squared, “Sukuna, Sir…” you jumped, eyeing him somewhat warily. 

Despite how he made you feel, the devil was not exactly a strict boss. 

He’s rather lax and did not mind procrastination and passing your work at the last minute as long as you did it well. He works on proper hours, gives vacation and leaves, and an appropriate timetable for lunch breaks. 

He’s hard to hate for a being who's been blamed for man’s misfortune since time immemorial.

“Was the long weekend still not enough?”

“I’m not exactly a sloth, Sir,” you mumble to yourself, but he catches onto your words and remains unphased. It's uncharacteristic for you to say anything more to him, but you needed a good starter for this conversation to get on,  “...Although, I-uh…I do have a question…You remembered our contract, sir?”

One thing that humans were able to grasp correctly about hell and its king is the contract signing and how the devil gives out favors in exchange for something you truly hold dear. For you, since you’re a lost soul, in exchange for changing your status, you’d give proper work hours and help him capture at least eight hundred itinerants.

You’re running on two hundred and fifty so far.

“Oh?” he leans in closer, “That’s not something we talk about every day.” his body language remains fluid and guileless as if he wanted you to speak your mind more, and it only made your palms sweaty despite the coldness of the room, “Would you like to change some conditions? I am, after all, a fair man.” His voice is crisp and light, a charm that made up for his empty face.

“I- well, I’m going to be frank with you, Sir…” you blink, “I- um,” you start to stammer, and it only makes your stomach do different kinds of flips as your mind conjures up different types of worst-case scenarios. It’s not like you couldn’t become a soul after this, right? You’d only have to wait for a century and try to retain your sanity along with it.

He cocks his head to the side, and if you could paint a face on that void of nothingness, you’d wish it would be kind eyes looking down on you, but this was the devil, the man who was struck down from the heavens for being too ‘arrogant and malicious’. You need to be careful with your words, “I…I need information…” you swallowed, your words tumbling out clumsily.

“Information?” your boss remained relaxed, and you knew it was rather diabolic to even pray for God when you were literally in hell, but you had little to no way of reading him. There’s another round of stifling silence; you only want to melt into a puddle of goo this time.