#god of mischief meets the demon of lies

[bluberryfields]

Turns out watching tall, lanky supernatural entities dramatically open up suit jackets is my kink

[majoringinsarcasm]

I think something very important that I have not thought about until right now is that Crowley knows the bullshit because he’s been a part of it.

In Hell before his “retirement” he was a chaos bringer, a mischief maker. Yes they had the Arrangement, but they did not collaborate on every single project. They were not put in the same place 100% of the time. He has to drive through a wall of fire because his own plan to make the M25 impossible to leave bit him in the ass. Not only was he Doing The Job of a demon, even if he tried hard not to be too Evil about it, he did well enough to earn the honor of delivering the Antichrist to his destination. Crowley might not have been a Duke of hell or besties with Satan (in the show I have not read the book I really think I should bc I love having all the lore) but he was the demon stationed in London causing trouble and had been possibly the main demon on earth for a long time.

Aziraphale on the other hand?

His bookshop is seen as, at best, a meeting hub for angels and at worst a joke. Gabriel questions him about eating which isn’t bad on its own but it’s very “Aziraphale the weird angel is eating food”. Nobody takes him seriously, he’s dismissed and ignored, they think his ideas are stupid. They Punch Him In The Stomach and he’s called useless or something to that effect when he accidentally goes to Heaven and loses his corporation. They hate him. To the point of finding joy in his death.

And here comes the mouth of God telling him that HE is the perfect Angel to take over for Gabriel. The supreme archangel of all Heaven. The one who went out of his way time and again to belittle him. Aziraphale? Replace him? And he can bring Crowley along? They can be safe from Hell and make Good changes and stay together? People will actually listen to him and take him seriously? He can leave behind his bookshop if it means taking Crowley and fixing Heaven. He can leave earth if he gets to have those things.

Because he’s never been Important before. He’s never had anyone from his own side give him a fucking complement in 6000 years. God asked him about the flaming sword Once and then Never Spoke To Him Again. Crowley seems to be the only one giving him compliments that he takes to heart. Maggie calls him an angel for being nice but he knew he did the no rent thing for selfish reasons. Crowley tells him he did a good job investigating and he’s all smiles and happy wiggles. He has never had anyone from his side be fucking nice to him and now the literal Headhancho is promoting him.

And for Crowley it’s easy to turn down. He knows Heaven is shit and he knows Hell doesn’t give a damn bc he’s experienced it before. Hell doesn't care how the job gets done and Heaven can’t see outside of its own ass and doesn't care about the Right thing. They don’t care about humans as people. They are set dressing to their own war not a creation of God that they should observe and care about. They want souls, they want to Win this little game that they SAY God wants them to play. And maybe She does, but maybe She’s Wrong. But regardless they don’t care about anything Real. But Aziraphale does. Crowley does.

And in an isolated incident yeah it might be out of character for Aziraphale to seemingly regress. But that’s not what happens. He’s not interested in joining Heaven as part of the cog again. He doesn’t want to be the universal punching bag anymore. He likes his independence and his records and his freedom. He doesn’t want to be just the weird little Angel everyone hates. But the Metatron is offering him a sort of protection. He’s being appointed by someone high up, given a role that is seemingly untouchable. They can’t hit the supreme archangel. They can’t mock his choice of company if he’s in charge. And it’s all fake it’s all lies he’ll no doubt be just a figurehead with a fancy title. But right now it’s all real to him.

So he says yes. Not because he’s fallen back onto his old ways, not really, but because he really thinks this is Better. Being involved to fix the community vs running away from it and risk being hunted down Again. They found him because he’s at the bookshop but they’re angels. If they want to find him or Crowley they will. This is everything he’s ever hoped for with the added bonus of not being on opposite sides anymore. Because they still are to everyone else. An Angel and demon are still an Angel and a demon to the outside world. Angels can find Aziraphale and demons can find Crowley and the other side can threaten the other and.

If they’re both in Heaven they won’t need to do that. So he says yes, because he wants to. But also… how do you say No to an offer like that? Someone else already said it but it’s Coffee or Death. Become the new archangel or say No to the closest thing to God after already being threatened time and again. Nobody would pick death.

People are Predictable.

[remidrawsstuffs]

AZIRAPHALE

This will be the first of the many rants I'll be posting about good omens, beware of spoilers and I will only reference the show and not the books as I have not read it yet.

Also disclaimer, These are what I picked up from the show and what I observed, but feel free to leave your thoughts and correct me if I missed something :3

ANYWAYS

Aziraphale is a literal ray of sunshine but he is a conflicted mess, I seriously see myself in him and I kin him so hard it hurts. Like, he's conflicted about how things can be good and bad at the same time, how something can be morally questionable but still be done with good intentions. Even after 6000 years, he still has some inkling of a black and white kind of thinking when it comes to doing things. He still thinks that there is a clear line of where good and evil lies, because of his religious trauma and people (angels and heaven) belittling him for all the things he did.

He strives to be the bigger person, he runs on being on a moral high ground and when he does something morally questionable, he tries to justify it, still trying to preserve that moral high ground that he's very proud of. But he meets crowley, someone who is, most of the time, morally questionable in some sense but still has some inkling of niceness in her. This is where Aziraphale gets more conflicted!

Think of aziraphale as a child who has been brainwashed and conditioned into thinking that everyone outside of their circle (angels and heaven) are evil or beneath them in some way. Aziraphale has been molded into thinking that if they aren't on the side of angels and God, they're demons and traitors.

Then, the start of the universe and earth came. the garden of eden and humans were made, and aziraphale had to guard the garden, along with adam and eve.

He had observed how humans are like since the very first creation and he has seen how the humans are influenced by the entities. But then comes crowley, the one who has been on earth as much as aziraphale has. He went through earth side by side with a demon. Someone who he has always been taught are bad people.

But he's surprised to see how caring crowley is, even if he acts somewhat rude, and how much he questions the morality in everything that heaven does. He sees her help humans, he sees him try to make only small demonic miracles and temptations and mischief because she loves the humans.

Aziraphale saw a demon care.

So, within the 6000 years they've been together, the people that they met, how they observed humans and how they have their own thoughts, how they have their own way of thinking, which in turn, changes aziraphale's perspective. Not everything is black and white anymore, it could be gray, not everyone is gonna always be on the white or light gray side of things all the time

But aziraphale is scared, he's scared that he's changing, that his mindset is changing. He scared that he's questioning the almighty and her plans, he's scared that what happen to crowley will happen to him, he's scared that he may be acting traitorous.

A little side note, people have been theorizing that crowley is a seraphim, which is the highest ranking angels who work just right under the almighty God.

So in ep 1 s2, he talks to crawley (now known as crowley) like he's excited, because it's a higher up (aziraphale is seen to treat the higher ups with utter respect, even if uncomfortable or how rude they can get)

He had a chance to work for someone who was only below God in authority and power. And he was estatic.

But he was skeptical, gobsmacked even, when he heard crawley complain and question why the universe is only going to run for 6000 years, and that's what scares aziraphale. Because he has the same curiosity and questions as crowley, but the only difference is that aziraphale doesn't ask those questions

He's terrified, because even a (theorized) seraphim was casted down to hell as a fallen angel for her questions. Aziraphale has trauma.

He's scared that he'll end up like crowley, and lose the moral high ground he so desperately clings on to.

Okay back on the main topic, he's scared that he's changing, he's terrified that he's going "native" as some of the angels and demons call it.

Aziraphale is scared that he'll be casted down after being tempted or interfering with the almighty's plan. He's terrified that he's slowly turning into something similar to crowley

So he clings to that moral high ground, but his grip is loosening. Specifically, I think it started during that time with the girl in the graveyard and her friend. He saw someone die because he let someone do something wrong. He started questioning how it was fair for the poor, how it was fair that someone gets an unfair life and untimely demise.

Then the conversation with the doctor and the story about the 7 year old who died because of a tumor. He questions how a child is punished so harshly, why they don't get a chance at life as much as everyone else does. He starts questioning if heaven is actually all that kind and holy.

Overtime, he realizes how heaven doesn't care about earth, especially during the beginning of Armageddon (that they stopped by the way). He realizes that heaven doesn't care, that they don't care about the conditions of the angel or the creations that they make. They don't care.

They only care that things are being done. Hell and heaven are like that. "as long as they get the paperwork, they don't care how it's done"

And going back to the time where aziraphale lied to the angels and stopping God's will, he fully expected that he was gonna be escorted to hell by crowley because he lied.

And going back to temptations, the first time aziraphale was tempted to eat food, it's like he lost all morals somewhat when it comes to food, it's like aziraphale wondered why they were told it was bad.

It's like.. when someone tells you not to eat candy then you ask why and they only answer "because I said so" that's the entire dynamic of heaven and their angels. They follow the rules, they don't question it, and when they do, they get guilt tripped. You can see it when aziraphale asks about why Job is being punished and tested even though he has stayed faithful to the almighty!

He asks why and he finds out it's a bet, to "test" job's loyalty. But that's where it gets messy, isn't a test the same as giving a temptation? Why was God trying to, in a way, tempt job into losing faith in her? Even though she designed and created the humans and is all knowing, wouldn't she have known that job would stay loyal?? That's where aziraphale also gets confused

But, because of how badly mistreated and very "scripted" the angels are when answering questions, aziraphale is forced to stomach and push down them down.

"Are you questioning the almighty's decisions?" Sounds a lot like "are you questioning the will of God?" When it comes from those overly religious people when you just want to get answers.

I saw a post that the reason why the angels have automated responses to questions, is because the higher ups themselves don't know, so to stay on that good moral standing, they give generic bland basic answers and a somewhat threatening question in return (I don't remember where I read this take, but I love it)

Aziraphale is a victim of being shunned and belittled to the point he tries so hard to be worthy of the position as an angel. He tries his best to hold on to that assurance that he is good and just, that he is still worthy of heaven.

He learns that people can be both good and bad but still be considered a nice person. And that new mindset is battling with his old mindset, making him question himself.

Crowley has always supported and assured him that he is still an angel, which helps him feel validated, the validation that he never got from heaven. Until the season 2 finale.

He was finally noticed. He was finally acknowledged by the angels, better yet, the metatron himself, who serves as the voice of the almighty, who can speak for God.

He feels extremely validated that even if he doesn't prefer coffee, he savors every single drop of validation from metatron like it's the last thing he'll ever recieve.

Because his efforts are finally being seen, by someone as high as the metatron himself, no less. And he wants to keep receiving that, and not only does he want to do that, but he also wants to take the things he learns on earth, to heaven. To make it better, to make it how it's supposed to be.

He wants equality for everyone, and at the same time, he wants to be validated so badly

But he can't leave crowley behind, so he asks her to come with him to heaven, to become an angel again, because he knows that other than him, crowley is the only person who cares about the earth and fairness.

But he can't have everything, and what's worse is that it's obvious he's being love bombed!

That validation will not last forever, it will gradually leave until he's far too deep into being the supreme archangel that he can't back down. He's trapped, he'll be trapped to search, long, and work for the validation he craved so much for 6000 years or even more

This is why i kin him so bad. The conflict between what's good and what's bad is horrible, because there's almost a transparent line that divides good and evil that it's so hard to differentiate

There's no certain answers of what is good and bad, sure some situations are but not all of them. An example is when aziraphale gave away his flaming sword to adam and eve because he thinks it's the right thing, but it was not in God's plan, so surely it was bad right?

He follows along this arc of questioning and still has a lot to go when it comes to his character development.

He is still a ball of sunshine, but that ball of sunshine burns himself with his moral battle

If you reached this far, thank you! I know some of that didn't make too much sense and I probably made some mistakes with info and stuff, but I would love to hear your opinion about this! I'll try and make a more coherent rant when I rewatch the show :3

[wrenhyperfixates]

Of All the Places

Chapter 5

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: Washing up in a small town in Oklahoma was definitely not part of Loki’s plan when he came to conquer Midgard. There is one good thing about it, though: No one recognizes him as the one who just wreaked havoc in New York. So, Loki plans to recover from the battle and move on with his life. The only problem? He’s not sure he can leave you. Chapter Summary: The arrival of someone from your life before Loki knew you throws his head into a tailspin. He finally has to come face to face with his emotions. Chapter Warnings: a lot of sarcasm, tiny bit of angst, and fluff A/N: Thanks to everyone who’s been reading and/or chatting to me. I love hearing your thoughts on this, and I hope you enjoy the latest installment :) Updates every Friday.

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiantfavs​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​

✥ Start at Beginning ✥ | ← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

The sun beat down on Loki as he handed the carefully packaged eggs to the customer he was helping. It was the first time since his arrival on the farm that you were participating in a local farmer’s market, and he was doing his best to assist despite his less than ideal people skills.

“Have a nice day,” you called after the man as he walked away. “I’ll tell you one thing about your life, Loki. There is absolutely no way you worked in customer service.”

“No, I suppose not,” he agreed with a chuckle.

“Speaking of, you haven’t remembered anything else, have you?”

“I have not, but if I do, I promise you will be the first to know.”

“Mama’s not entirely wrong about the missing person ad,” Ana chimed in, taking the jam jar Matt had just picked up out of his hands. “It couldn’t hurt. Though I can think of a few reasons why you might not want to do it.”

Loki looked away as his cheeks flushed. He was thankful you were already with another customer by the time Ana made a little heart in the air around your heads. It seemed that she had gotten the same crazy idea that John had that he had fallen for you. If only they knew he was a god, then certainly they wouldn’t have reached such an outlandish conclusion. At least, he supposed, they did not know the true reason he wanted to avoid putting his picture out there, for if they did, he was sure they’d never look at him the same way again. Why that should even matter to him was one question he had yet to answer.

“Well, perhaps when Papa finds that camera,” Loki lied.

“Mhm. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Are you leaving?” Matt asked, tugging on Loki’s pants. “I don’t want you to.”

“I know, small one. Do not worry, I am staying put for now,” Loki said as he bent down to the boy’s height.

“Yay! More play time!”

“Indeed,” Loki laughed.

In the past few days, Papa had declared him an official farmhand and offered him a salary for his help. The trickster god declined at first, insisting that the lodgings and hospitality he’d been given were far more than enough. But, in the battle of the wills, Papa came out victorious, and Loki accepted a modest salary. His position, however, was little more than a glorified babysitter, not that he particularly minded. Everyone still seemed too nervous he was going to fall over and die at any given minute to assign him many real tasks. He still collected the eggs daily, and was being taught to milk the cows, along with a few other simple tasks. In addition, he was taking some cooking lessons with Papa. His attempt at pancakes did not go too well, but you reassured him it was a great first try, something that made him beam with pride.

One thing he wasn’t particularly fond of, however, was getting up so early. Though you’d all told him it was fine if he wanted to sleep in while he was still recovering, he felt bad to take you up on the offer. He was, after all, fully healed whether you knew it or not. And if he was accepting pay, he should have to be up as early as anyone else. Still, a part of him longed for his beauty sleep.

“Well, fancy running into you here,” a deep, unfamiliar voice said.

“Denzel?” you asked in a mix of shock and surprise. “Is that you?”

“Sure is, darlin’. Long time no see.”

“Uh, yeah. When did you get back?”

“Just last night. I was hoping to see you here. And it seems I’ve forgotten my manners. Who’s this?” he asked, nodding his head at the God of Mischief.

“Loki,” he replied, reluctantly extending his hand for a shake. “Charmed, I am sure.”

“Yeah, right. Nice to meet you, too. I’m Denzel. You new around here?” he questioned, sizing up Loki.

The raven haired god wasn’t exactly sure what it was about this man, but he rubbed him the wrong way. There was nothing particularly malicious about him, but the look in his eye sparked something in Loki’s chest. In a sudden panicked thought, he wondered if this Denzel person had recognized him. If so, he’d have to make a quick getaway, teleportation the only option. He wondered for a split second if he could grab your hand and take you with him, but he knew that wouldn’t be fair to you. Then again, nothing about this particularly was.

“Yes. You see, I have tragically lost my memory, but I was lucky enough to be taken in by this kind family,” Loki said.

“Interesting. But you remember your name?”

“Oh yes, I remember simple, everyday things, such as my name or, say, how to use a seatbelt. Something so simple surely would stay in everyone’s mind,” he joked, shooting a look at you as a huge smile made its way onto your face. You hid your laugh at the inside joke behind a hand. “Very odd how that works, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Like I said, interesting. Anyway,” he changed the subject, turning to you, “I was hoping to talk. Do you think we could maybe take a quick walk?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Can you guys hold the fort down?”

“Of course, honey,” Ana said, giving your arm a quick squeeze. “Take your time.”

You were off before Loki had any time to protest, but he kept up a cool facade as the next customer walked up to the booth. Once he finished, he put his elbow on the table and, slumping down in defeat, rested his head in his hand.

“Who was that Denzel character, anyway?” he asked your sister as his nose involuntarily wrinkled in distaste.

“Listen, don’t tell them I told you this, but he’s their ex.”

“Well, what happened? Did he hurt them?” he further inquired, perking up at the new information.

“Distance, I guess. He was a great guy, really, but it just didn’t work out. He just finished studying to be a doctor, actually. So he might be back in town for good. But,” she added, noticing the disappointment etched onto Loki’s features, “that doesn’t mean they’re getting back together or anything. It’s been a while. I really do think they moved on.”

“Do you not have that saying here, though? Distance makes the heart grow fonder. Or something else equally ridiculous as that.”

“Well, yes, that is a saying. But not from here, as in Oklahoma here. It’s kinda well known.”

“I am aware. I just meant... Oh never mind!” he quit in exasperation, a mood Ana chalked up to Denzel’s sudden arrival.

Loki tried to use his height to his advantage and spot you in the crowd, but no such luck. You were too far gone, away with Denzel, your ex. Someone who, Loki had to admit, was very pretty and smart and charming. But certainly he—Loki of Asgard, God of Mischief and Lies, rightful heir to not one, but two thrones—was prettier than this mere mortal. And smarter than this insipid fool. And far more charming than this bumbling oaf. Right? Or was he truly just the cold, chaotic, horrific, monstrous villain so many thought he was? Though, really, why should any of it matter to him?

In that moment, the answer finally hit him. He could never acknowledge it, though. It would only lead to pain and heartache for all involved. Not to mention terrible danger for you. But, if he were to allow himself just one peaceful second of bliss, he could imagine he was not a god, not a fugitive, but just a simple man. Just someone who could be able to love you and provide for you without any complications from his past misdeeds. If he could allow that, then he would admit he had feelings for you. But he can’t so he won’t. He’d let his inner demons have their way and only ever admire you from afar, accepting your friendship for what it was and nothing more. Though, if you were to make the first move, then perhaps things would be different. That, however, was an entirely unlikely course of events.

“Loki? Are you oki doki?” Matt asked, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. “Maybe you need a cookie.”

“I am fine, little one,” he said, laughing despite himself. “Thank you very much for asking.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a cookie?”

“Well, I suppose it could not hurt. What do you say? Would you like one?”

“Yes, please!”

You and Denzel reappeared just then, and Loki was suddenly very desperate to escape. He took Matt’s hand in his and informed Ana where he was off to with the child. She gave Loki a grateful smile for indulging her son and sent them on their way with a few dollars to purchase the sweets.

On the way to the booth with the most heavenly smell, Loki’s thoughts overtook him once again. He recalled his plan from when he’d first arrived; lie low and heal and then be off to Asgard. Off to claim the throne which technically should have been his. Really, it was not entirely his fault that his brother had been banished when the king fell into Odinsleep. And it wasn’t like he caused that either. No, his “father” confessed he’d been lying to him to all his life and then left him to deal with it by himself. And he was next in line for the throne at the time, but apparently he shouldn’t have taken it. Obviously, it was all perfect logic from the brain of Odin once again. And, yes, he would admit he made some mistakes. That was the sign of a true leader. But he was doing the best he could with the hand he’d been dealt. And perhaps the most frustrating part was he was starting to realize he liked this simple town better than any of that. That he didn’t actually want to leave, after all.

One short wait in line later, Loki pulled himself from the dangerous rabbit hole that was his mind. He ordered two cookies, pumpkin chocolate chip for Matt and a butter pecan one for himself. Then, on a whim, he also ordered a cup of hot apple cider for both you and Ana. Nothing for Denzel, though. If the Norns were smiling on him today, that man would already be gone by the time he got back. Gone as in away from the stand or out of the state didn’t really matter to Loki. Either worked for him.  

“Surprise,” he whispered in your ear after sneaking up behind you. “Hot apple cider, on me.”

You graciously took the cup and passed one to Ana, too. Loki also offered you a piece of his cookie, which you gladly accepted. The brush of your fingers as he gave it to you had him shyly looking away. Ana took Matt off to the bathroom once he was done eating, leaving Loki alone with you for the first time that day.

“So, Denzel,” he nonchalantly started after you finished a transaction. “He seemed... Nice.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. He is.” You picked at a loose thread on your jacket as you figured out what else to say about him. “Ana told me that she let you know our history. He said he’s back now and strongly hinted at us getting back together, but I don’t know.”

“I see. Well, from what I hear, he’s an amazing guy, so you should go for it,” Loki dejectedly said, though he truly did want you to be happy. “If that is what you want, of course.”

“It’s not, though. At least, I don’t think it is. Don’t get me wrong, he is really great. But the spark’s just gone for me, you know?”

“I understand completely,” Loki replied, hope creeping into his heart. Even if you were not yet smitten with him, at least you were not still pining for your ex. “You are certainly under no obligation to be with him again.”

“Yeah, I know. I just feel bad.”

“Darling, look at me,” he said, taking your hand. “You should never feel bad about what, or rather who, you want or do not want. It is entirely up to you, no matter what anyone else says.”

The irony was not lost on Loki that he should be saying those words. Though, he had found it was a common theme among Midgardians to be good at giving advice but never apply it to yourself. So, if anything, he was just doing an impeccable job of blending in.

“Thanks, Loki. I needed that. Anyway, on a much lighter note, Matt really seems to love you. You’re great with kids.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Absolutely.”

He felt his cheeks go scarlet again, entirely too happy that you thought he was good with kids. For a brief moment, the idea of raising a child with you popped into his mind, but he shut it down before he tortured himself too much with something that could never be.

“Well, I thank you for the compliment, but if you do not mind, I need some fresh air for a second. Or space, I suppose,” he corrected, considering you were outside. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Ok. Talk to me if something’s bothering you?”

“Of course.”

He knew that was a lie, and he was sure that deep down you did, too. It was, in the grand scheme of things, a little white lie. It’s just that it felt like so much more than that. In some ways, he supposed it was.

As he walked out to the edge of the market, he thought he heard some thunder ominously booming in the distance. Or maybe that was just his imagination.

[emilia3546]

Teasing you - Nessian NSFW

Nesta is dancing with everyone during a night out at Rita's, everyone that is, except for Cassian, and she knows he's watching.

*****

Music filled her ears, and Nesta smirked across the room at Cassian, swaying her hips even more to the melody. He narrowed his eyes, and she just grinned, turning her attention away from him, if he had a problem, he could come and tell her to her face. She quickly forgot all about him, allowing the music to guide her movements, dancing with Mor one moment, and Azriel the next. When she glanced back at the booth that they had claimed for the evening, Cassian was not there. She shrugged and made her way to the bar, leaning against it, catching her breath for a moment, and grinned as a drink appeared in front of her, she glanced around for Cassian, but someone else appeared behind her.

"Hey,"

"Hello," she narrowed her eyes slightly,

"I don't think we've met." So he didn't recognize her, perhaps she could have a bit of fun then, "Max, and you are?"

"Maya," she quickly lied, "I haven't seen you before, where are you from?" 

"Oh, I'm from Velaris, just never been here before," she hummed as he took a seat beside her, leaning closer, she sat up a bit, not sure how comfortable she was with this, and finished her drink, "Wanna dance?"

"Sure," she stepped back onto the dance floor, keeping near the edge, near the exit, so that she could get out if she needed to, but she allowed herself to let go a little, to dance, and dance. One moment Max had his hands on her hips, the next she pushed him away a little, grabbing his hands with her own. Dancing was fine, but if he expected anything more...

She didn't have a chance to finish that thought before she was ripped away and pulled outside. Almost immediately she found herself shoved against the wall outside the club, Cassian's blazing eyes meeting hers,

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Dancing. Or is that not allowed?" She teased,

"Not like that, you already pushed him away once, read the situation." 

"I was fine."

"Were you? He was about to grab your ass, you know full well that only I am allowed to touch you like that. You're mine."

"Oh really?" She smirked, oh she was going to enjoy this, "Well it isn't up to you, is it?" She squealed as he pulled her off the wall, crushing her against his chest as he leapt into the air, "Cass! Slow down!" She screamed, clinging on to him for dear life, she knew he would never drop her, but it didn't make flying any less scary, "Cass!" she screamed, "Please slow down, please." He leveled off, smirking down at her before he dove down to their house, keeping a hold of her as he pushed the door open, she struggled to free herself, "I can walk, you prick!" He just chuckled, and carried her all the way to their bedroom, before setting her down.

Before she had a chance to speak, he spun her round and shoved her against the wall again, pressing himself into her back. She gasped and made to push him off, to turn around, but he pinned both of her hands above her head with one of his, the other found her ass. she wriggled, but relaxed as she realized that he had her pinned, and tipped her head sideways as his lips brushed against the shell of her ear, but then left,

"Cass?"

"Perhaps you need reminding of why you're mine." He pushed her dress up around her hips, squeezing the flesh of her ass, smacking it when she ground against him, "No moving," she whimpered but complied, biting her lip to hold back from begging him for more, she knew how it was going to go tonight, she had wound him up, danced with everyone except him, he would decide what she got tonight, and damn it if she wasn't excited.

He let go, and she made to turn around, but he quickly hoisted her over a shoulder, throwing her dress aside, her bra and panties quickly following, she squealed as he threw her down on the bed, 

"Alright sweetheart?" He whispered,

"Yes." She nodded, "Now, General, are you going to fuck me, or not?" She added, reaching out for him, but squealed as he flipped her over, pulling her back so that she was bent over the bed, one hand between her shoulder blades pinning her down. She couldn't see him, but she could hear the rusting in the drawer next to the bed, and she rubbed her thighs together to try to relieve some of the ache she felt. She whined as he eased them back apart,

"Oh no, tonight you only get what I give you." She was about to complain, but he pulled her hands behind her back, quickly tying them in place as he rubbed his cock against her ass, gods he was already so hard, and against her best efforts, she couldn't help gasping,

"General, please."  She tried to turn her head to see him, but couldn't quite see, he pressed his lips against her neck, sucking and biting at the skin there, marking her as his, she let her eyes fall closed, and moaned the moment a finger pushed at her ass, he quickly added some oils, rubbing them into her, slowly, and she moaned again as he added a second finger. She wiggled her hips and tried to grind against him, but he pinned her hips down, holding her still, and playfully smacked her ass again,

"I said no moving, don't make me properly spank you." She could almost hear his smile, and forced herself to go still, if he stopped now, there was no way she could cope, she needed him. Right now. When he withdrew his fingers she whimpered at the loss of him, and he hummed gently to her, "Patience, sweetheart." He crooned gently, rubbing her ass before pushing into her in one go. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed completely, no longer able to even try to look at him, content to let him have control, to set the pace. She moaned loudly with every thrust, and he gripped her hips tighter, thrusting into her harder, "Good girl," he murmured, rubbing her hips gently where his grips had left little marks on her skin,

"General," she whined, "Can I-"

"No." 

"But-"

"After that display earlier, you don't get to come yet."

"Please," she whined, then screamed it as he pulled all the way out and slammed back into her, filling her ass with cum, her own pleasure rising, she wasn't sure how long she even could stave it off anymore, "Please, please, Cass," she wailed, forgetting to call him 'General' anymore, "Please, please, I'm sorry, please, I can't, I can't," she squealed, 

"Hmmmm," he kept moving inside her, even after his own climax, and then pulled out, "I don't think you've earned it just yet." Tears of frustration, forming at the effort of holding back her climax threatened to fall as she managed to lift her head, to look him in the eyes as he stood back, away from her. He grinned as he sat down next to her, and pulled her into his lap, brushing the hair away from her face, "Are you going be a good girl for me?" She nodded, burying her face in his neck, trailing kisses along his jaw,

"Please," she sighed as he ran his hands up her waist, lying back onto the bed, pulling her with him, he teased the underside of her breasts, before lifting her up, both hands on her hips as he guided her down onto him, holding her still as she whined, trying to move her hips, but he held her steady, "Please," she whined, and he relented, slowly rocking her hips back and forth, too slowly, tortuously so, and she gasped as he thrust upwards into her, almost collapsing onto him, unable to hold herself up with her hands still bound behind her. 

"Earn it sweetheart," he whispered before increasing the pace, and her moans filled the room again, quickly joined by his own voice, chanting her name like a prayer before he spilled inside her again, gasping her name out as his breathing sped up. Tears welled in her eyes as she quashed another climax, and he grinned at her, before whispering, "Come for me, sweetheart." 

Her vision went white as pleasure washed over her, sending her into spasms, and Cassian had to hold her up as she screamed his name, again and again, finally collapsing onto his chest once she came down from her high. He nudged her off him, and quickly untied her hands, allowing her to hold on to him as she panted for breath. When she finally recovered, she lifted her head off his chest, the love she felt for him shining in those hazel depths,

"I love you Cass,"

"I know," he whispered, wrapping an arm around her waist, "I love you more-" he broke off when she brushed her fingers along his wings, and hardened again, she smirked, mischief glimmering in her eyes, and she yelped when he flipped her underneath him, nudging her legs apart and holding her wrists down. She laughed as he kissed her nose, moving his hands so that she could interlock their fingers as he pushed back into her, moving slowly, kissing her with each thrust until they both came again, moaning each other's names.

Cassian collapsed onto the bed beside Nesta, and pulled her into his side, wrapping a wing around her as they each caught their breath. She trailed her hands along the whorls of ink across his chest, his shoulders. She echoed the movement with her mouth, but gently, aiming to soothe, not arouse. He chuckled and slipped a hand into her hair, massaging her scalp as she rested her head against his chest, lying there in a comfortable silence.

It seemed hours later that he finally pulled her off the bed, and carried her through to the bathchamber, setting a warm bath running as he rubbed her back, and kissed the side of her neck again. When the bath was full, he eased her into it, and she immediately spun round, motioning for him to do the same. He leaned his head back onto her shoulder, smiling contentedly as she returned the favor, massaging shampoo through his hair, and he gasped and spluttered when she dunked his head underwater to wash it out,

"Demon," he hissed when she allowed him to surface, turning round and pouncing, tickling her until she was crying with laughter and begging him to stop,

"Cass! Stop!" She giggled, still breathless when he finally did, and scowled at him, but grinned as she stepped out of the bath, still unsteady on her feet. Cassian was at her side instantly, a hand on her lower back as she dried off. She perched on the edge of the bath as he did the same and laughed again when he swept her into his arms and carried her back to bed, the magic of the house having changed the sheets. She was still smiling when she fell asleep, safe in his arms. 

[kimberly-spirits13]

Bat Pranks and Gun Fights (Request)

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Synopsis: (Reader is like Deadpool) For a month you had been trying to prank Batman with your best friend Jason. The task was easier said than done but one night, you finally get the chance but halfway through the night, you get interrupted by a more serious matter.

Warnings: Language, mentions of getting shot but not anything graphic at all, also at the end there is some mention of some stronger pain killers that eventually cause the reader to fall asleep really quickly so if that bothers anyone just FYI it’s there

Word Count: 2502

           As an antihero, you did what you saw right. You knew the law, you follow the law... mostly... but besides that, the point of your job is to find loopholes and ways to go about your business technically not breaking the law. Another added to that is that you also go around annoying those who are very precise about following the law as best they can. Take Batman for instance, one of the most terrifying and iconic heroes you knew, lived just outside your base city of New York. That’s where you and Jason worked most of the time if he wasn’t in Gotham anyways. The Batman was someone to be feared, someone to be honored. You on the other hand had heard the stories of what he had done to Jason and thought he was an old grumpy asshole that needed to be taught a lesson.

           So, for the entire month that’s what you tried to do. All you were really doing was prank Batman in a harmless way so that you wouldn’t be thrown off a building but every time you got close, something happened. Now you were suiting up in your apartment ready for another night of crime fighting. Tonight was your night to prank the Batman. You were heading out to Gotham and meeting up with Jason for the bust. After a few minutes, you found yourself hopping onto your motorcycle and heading down the interstate down towards Gotham. __________________________________________

 It seemed like no time had really passed by since you were on the interstate and now riding with Jason to where Bruce would be.

           “So, any other plans tonight other than possibly being thrown off a building by the old man?” Jason asked.

           “No, not really.” You replied on the headset of your helmet, “I’ve been tracking a group of people that are smuggling contraband into the US through the Hudson River. It’s weapons like guns and a shit ton of modified explosives.” “You know, the usual.”

           Jason laughed some before making a sharp turn into an alley. You did the same, stopping behind his bike and putting the kickstand down. The important thing about keeping your bike in some random alley way was making sure no one could steal it. That was what your codes and finger print was for. That thing wasn’t moving but for only yours and one other person’s finger print ID. You hadn’t revealed who that other person was.

           “So, what’s the plan?” He asked.

           “I figure until he catches us, something simple like making his smoke shields go off randomly.” You answered shrugging.          

           “Oh come on, that would be lame.” Jason side eyed you, “The demon could do better.”

           “Not if we did it in front of Gordon.” You smiled, a glint of mischief glazing over your eyes, “I mean just imagine the commissioner giving a rundown of some serious crime happening and suddenly Batman starts smoking from behind.” “The look on his face would be hilarious.”

           “You’re not wrong.” Jason thought about it for a second, “Okay, until we get caught he escalate more and more in what we do. But for now, this sounds like it could be fun.”

           You smiled at the look on Jason’s face. Whenever he took off his helmet, his hair would always swoosh over. You liked how it looked, just not really how it smelled when it got really sweaty. You always made a face when he did and sometimes would spray a flowery perfume that you got as a joke in his hair to improve on the smell. It’s not like he would do anything to you for it but maybe jokingly flip you off.

           The two of you climbed up onto the building where Gordon and Batman typically meet. Lucky for you, tonight was a full moon as you liked to call it since you really couldn’t see the moon that well in Gotham with all of the pollution and possible rain clouds. A full moon here meant that the Bat-signal was up and running. There was something big going on somewhere and Batman had to be notified.

           As you reached the top, you and Jason ducked behind a cover spot on the building closest to where Gordon was waiting.

           “Move over, I’m in the open Hood!” You hissed nudging his side.

           “I can’t move over or I’ll be open too.”

           You huffed and looked at the height of what you were trying to hide behind.

           “Fine then.” In order to solve this dilemma, you laid on top of Jason. You were both facing the same direction, you were just stacked. You laid your chin on his helmet some and smirked down at him. You couldn’t see the look on your face, but judging by his change in position, you could tell he wasn’t expecting that.

           “What the hell are you doing?” He asked.

           “Fixing the issue. Anyways, why are you so tall? My feet hardly touch yours.”

           Jason sighed, “Maybe it’s cause I’m not short like somebody here.”

           “I’m not short!” You demanded, “You’re just a giant Jason.”

__________________________________________

           Time passed and you two were getting tired of the pranks that were being played on the Bat. You were pretty positive he was tired of it too. You weren’t doing anything to get anyone killed, just to cause minor annoyances. It was funny to watch, but now your mind was drifting elsewhere. You wondered what Jason thought when you climbed onto him. It wasn’t like you were doing something to get anything started, you were just curious what he thought of you. You thought that maybe there was a chance that he possibly liked you back.

           Your thoughts would have consumed you longer if you weren’t alerted by your tracker on the smugglers. At the sight of what you were seeing, your eyes widened.            “I’ve gotta go.” You said jumping up from next to Jason.

           “What is it?”

           “The targets have almost reached the docks. If I go now, I can make it and stop them.”

           “Do you even know what you’re walking into?” Jason asked.

           “I have somewhat of an idea.” You lied a tiny bit knowing that there could be more than you originally planned, “I’ll be fine.”

           “You’d better be.” He was quick to say, “Don’t go getting yourself killed tonight. Trust me when I say it isn’t fun.”            “Yes, yes, I’ve got that part.” You rolled your eyes, “Anyways, I’ll call you when I’m done with this party.”

__________________________________________

           Now you were at the docks. It was colder than you’d expected with the breeze coming in and reinforcements were waiting for the cargo load. You would have to strike fast for this to work. The one problem was you didn’t know how that would play out. Dropping from your hiding place, you crept up behind one of the guards on the outer rim of security. With a sword in hand, you took him out.

           “Oops, didn’t see you there buddy.” You smirked some and moved onto the next one. It was an easy job so far. The security was terrible on the rims as you’d imagine and no one was raising any sort of alarm.

           After finishing this part, you climbed back up to see that there were even more heavily armed men aboard the ship than you had ever anticipated.

           “No big deal.” You mumbled, “Just like all the times before. Crack a few jokes, kill a few idiots, and at the end, blow some stuff up. It’s just what you do now a days.”

           Time was ticking and the slot for best entry was getting smaller and smaller. You looked around once more and then dropped to the ground when the shipments were on the docks so that they couldn’t be moved after the boat caught flames from the devices you’d planted around it.

           “Hey boys. I hope you don’t mind but, I saw you were having a moving in party and wanted to drop by and give a house warming gift. Well, then again, I guess catching the boat on fire wasn’t the best gift, but it certainly did the job well.” You smirked taking the approaching ones out and avoiding the flying bullets.

           You only slowed down just a bit when one slightly grazed your arm, “Okay, who did that?” “This was a brand -new suit and I did not want it damaged tonight.” “God, who taught you manners? A fish?”

           It was all running well again. The advisories were being taken out, weapons were being destroyed and... you looked up to see one of the crates of explosives. If you wanted to, you could light that baby up and let it do your job for you. The issue was making it out on time without any other survivors. You didn’t need any lose ends on this mission. There was a moment of pause before someone called out your name.

           “Y/S/H/N, need any help?” You looked behind you to see Jason shooting at some guys.

           “What are you doing here Hood?” You looked almost a little too shocked to see him, you really were a bit too shocked to see him.

           “Got a bad feeling and figured you might need back up at some point. Not saying you’re not capable, just watching out.” He explained loading in another magazine.

           “Yeah, yeah, I get it.” You looked back up at the crate, “Say there is one thing you could do though.”

           “And that is?”

           “Cover me while I go take out whoever is hording that massive crate of explosives.”

           You didn’t give him any time to protest on your actions. It was always unclear to you why he was so protective of you in those regards but no one else. It wasn’t like you were his significant other or something. That is, no matter how much you wanted to be.

           “You had no business coming here tonight.” Some taller man said shooting at you.

           “Neither did you but I guess we both found some.” You retorted firing back as well.

           “If you’re here for information, you won’t ever get it.”

           “Trust me buddy, I have all of the information I need.” “You’re not really a hard group to track.” Rolling your eyes, you shot the man in the arm, making him cry out in pain, “You’ll be fine, trust me.”

           “Not if I detonate these.” He gave you a look like no other you’d really seen before.

           Sometimes you’d meet people that had fairly evil motives. Other times it was just the run of the mill henchmen. But sometimes, like just on these missions, you’d come across a group or one singular person that was so dedicated to a cause or leader, they’d rather die themselves with what they were hiding than give it up. Those people were some of the scariest.

           “Hood get out of here!” You said into the coms.

           “What’s going on up there?”

           “I’m about to try and stop this guy from taking the docks out.” You answered grimly knowing that this wouldn’t end well for either you nor the man in question.

           “What are you crazy?” Jason yelled.

           “maybe.”

           You jumped over the crate to where the man was and shot him down before looking over at the count down. There wasn’t much time before it set off. You quickly started typing codes that you had picked up into the device. It wasn’t until after a few seconds that you noticed how close the time was getting. Sighing, you knew the only thing to do was leave. You turned around, not seeing the last remaining henchmen behind you and was shot in the side. The moment Jason registered what was going on, he shot the man who was now aiming at him and jumped onto the boat to grab you. That was when he noticed the spot on your arm as well as your bleeding side.

           There were less than 10 seconds on the clock. Jason ran as fast as he could when the explosion went off. It sent him stumbling to the ground since he was a decent distance, that stumble didn’t help you though. You were sure you hadn’t been hit anywhere super important, it just hurt, a lot.

           “Come on Y/N/N, stay with me.” He went to your bike which was the only one there since he zeta beamed to New York.

           He was in too much of a rush to remember that your bike needed finger print ID to start going. With you straddling him so he could make sure you didn’t fall off, he cursed under his breath.

           “I know you’re not going to like this, but I need you to get the bike going.” He said to you.

           “You can do it.” You groaned.

           “No, I need your ID fo-“ He stopped when you cut him off.

           “I told you, you can do it.”

           That was when he realized what you meant and started up the bike himself with his own ID. He smiled at the gesture. Maybe you really did trust him enough. Maybe you actually felt the same about him as he did you.

__________________________________________

           High on pain killers you sat on your bathtub ledge getting stitches from Jason while draped over him for support. He was pretty sure you would either start ranting about something extremely random that he might be able to use for blackmail, or you’d start snoring. Either one was fine to him as long as you didn’t stop breathing. That was when there would be issues.

           “Jaybird, you know I really like you right?” You asked making his cheeks heat up.

           “I didn’t know that.” He had to clear his throat.

           “Yeah, I’ve always thought you looked really nice. Then I got to know you and now you’re even better.”

           “Well what if I told you I liked you a lot too?” Jason asked smiling at what you had said.

           You sat up and looked at him quickly, “Really?”

           “Yes, and don’t rip out your stitches. I don’t want to put them back in.”

           “Well if you really liked me, you’d kiss me like what they do in the movies.” You smirked some at Jason.

           “What kind of movies have you been watching recently.” He scrunched up his nose faking a look of disgust.

           “Jason Peter Todd, I mean it.”

           Jason gave your stiches a once over before pulling you into a kiss. You could feel him smiling into the kiss before pulling away.

           “What else do they do in movies?” He asked.

           There was no response.

           “Y/N? ...Doll?” Jason looked down to see you asleep sitting up, whatever Alfred had recommended, it worked because you were out like a light.

           He laughed and carried you into your room, tucking you in. He went to go sleep in the living room but stopped when your hand didn’t let go of his. Jason sighed holding in a chuckle before changing into his own night clothes and climbing in next to you.

I hope you guys liked this one. I know it’s a bit longer but I really liked the request and things just kept coming to mind of what to add to it. I’ve got something big coming for a fic unless I scrap it. It’ll be long and Idk when I’ll finish it, but you’ll know when it gets here. Anyways, I hope you’re all having a wonderful day and week and continue to have a great one. Stay safe and healthy and make sure to take care of yourself when you need it.

[flyingkiki]

The Screaming Bunny (2/?)

A day late, but Happy Halloween. You asked for a Halloween treat, so here it is. Enjoy!

~

Halloween was a terrible time to go out. The streets were packed with people dressed up as drunk monsters, superheroes, sexy costumes of whatever possible, and terrible imitations of the Gotham criminals and their ragtag gangs. Also, sexy Joker costumes, ugh. Petty crimes also saw a spike on this night in Gotham, though it was nothing the GCPD or Batman and Robin couldn’t handle on their own.

Admittedly, Tim should be out on patrol right now or perhaps working on those new business acquisition reports for WE. There are a million other things he should be doing right now – like monitoring criminal activities tonight or keeping an eye out on anyone dressed like an Arkham Criminal. He should be also reading a new book, Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance, because Human Resource has been getting on his case to finish the book.

There are honestly a million other things Tim should be doing right now. He definitely should not be squeezing through a packed crowd of sweat, latex, leather, and lace.

But here he was at The Screaming Bunny. In that stupid domino mask. Again.

The private club had sent out an email to all its members of tonight’s “Spooks and Spanks” event. He shouldn’t be here but Tim would be lying if he said that he was not intrigued after the interesting run-in last month.

The club was packed tonight, drawing a crowd dressed in virtually anything or nothing. A couple of bloodied nurses in uniforms too tight to pass hospital standards scurried past Tim and disappeared around the corner. Tim carefully maneuvered his way through the club and towards the bar, hopeful to get a drink.

Soft techno music filled the club and allowed people in the lounge area to either dance or talk to each other. Club policy allowed for alcoholic drinks only by the bar and common area, Tim learned. Alcoholic drinks, and drunk members for that matter, were not allowed in any of the pleasure chambers or dungeons.

Yes, Tim made an effort to go through the club’s policies.

“Hey, what can I get you?” a topless bartender appeared, dressed nothing but a pair of extremely tight police shorts with a pair of handcuffs dangling from his belt.

“Just a scotch,” Tim replied, this time unfazed by the display of nakedness (or the potential violations of health codes by the lack of clothes). He paid for the drink as it slid across the counter and thanked the guy.

Picking up his drink, Tim pushed himself away from the bar and idly surveyed the scene in front of him. Save for the general nakedness, and the occasional grunts and whipping noises that drifted through the room, the club seemed very much like any other Halloween party tonight. A woman dressed in stockings from head to toe walked past him, roughly tugging along a man in nothing but boxers and a latex mask over his head. Tim blinked at the sight and took a sip of his drink, a few stray thoughts flittering through his mind but he quickly squashed these.

There were a couple of tables and lounge chairs in the corners of the room, Tim thought it would be best perhaps to hang out in the back for a while and let the whole party scene sink in. Tonight was the first time he was here as an actual patron and not tailing a criminal. Dodging a couple of plastic horns and demon wings, Tim easily slid through the standing crowd and spotted an empty spot on the couch next to a couple of purple and pink furry monsters (monsters? Tim wasn’t all too sure).

Sliding past a group of men in lingerie, Tim made a beeline for the lounge area. He immediately stopped in his tracks however and quickly spotted why he came tonight. Or why his curiosity peeked in the first place. His grip tightened around his scotch glass and something in his chest fluttered.

Over the crowd of lace, latex, leather, nakedness, and fake blood, purple eyes caught his own. Tim swallowed and felt his breath catch.

From across the room, Raven – Rachel – stared at Tim for a millisecond before turning her attention back to the couple covered in body paint seated across of her.  He watched her chuckle and talk to the couple before her eyes slid back to him and he swore her lips quirked just a little bit. He felt heat rush to his face as he took in her appearance, her pale skin and black hair stood out against the white of her impossibly tight leather corset. And, oh, was that a little halo over her head?

Should he go over? Tim found himself momentarily fumble. Of course he should. Wasn’t this why he came back? Because he was curious? Because he wanted – Tim blinked and caught his thoughts as Raven waved him over.

Oh god.

“You’re back,” Raven said to him once he finally approached their table. She offered him a playful smile and her purple eyes danced in the dim lights. She tilted her head and leaned back just a little bit as she eyed him with that amused smile of hers. “Why don’t you join us?” she asked, scooting down the leather sofa to make room for him in their little corner of the lounge area.

“Sure,” Tim felt a rush of emotions run down his back at the invitation – and that smile – and sat down next to her, leaving respectable room between them. Trying not to focus too much on an intriguingly amused Raven (why was she so amused? He needed to know), he placed his scotch glass on the small glass table and offered the other two women a smile. “Hello.”

“This is Tracy and Lady X,” Raven introduced, pointing at a small redheaded woman in a skimpy Super Mario costume with a dog collar and a blonde woman in complete leopard body paint. Raven gracefully pointed at each woman with her drink in her hand. Tilting her head towards Tim, she eyed him in mild amusement. “And this is…” she trailed off.

“Red,” Tim supplied smoothly and smiled at the two women. “Nice to meet you,”

“Red,” Raven repeated with an amused lilt in her voice before hiding her smile into her mojito glass. She leaned into the sofa, looking impossibly comfortable and blissfully ignoring how surreal everything truly was – Tim and her in club filled with naked people. It just felt surreal. He swallowed.

“So what are you supposed to be?” asked Tracy curiously, leaning forward just a little bit and eyeing Tim’s costume skeptically.

Tim felt his neck and cheeks burn at the attention. He had not put much thought into wearing any particular costume tonight – because what does one wear to a private BDSM club Halloween party really? “Ah, a random biker?” he replied, chuckling softly. He hoped his jeans and the leather vest he was wearing passed those standards.

Tracy chuckled with him and offered him a sympathetic smile. “Good try,”

“Random Biker Red,” Raven hummed next to him barely audible over the noise. He caught her staring at him, that amused smile never really disappearing. Tim swallowed and caught her eye briefly before reaching for his drink.

“How did you guys meet?” asked Lady X curiously. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,”

“He’s a new bunny,” Raven easily supplied and Tim felt his inside twist lightly at the word bunny. There it was again and he fought every urge not to openly stare at Raven. “I just bumped into him a few weeks ago,” she said.

“Ohh,” Tracy leaned forward just a little bit, her eyes sparkling in clear mischief. “Is he going to be your dom, Rachel?”

Tim coughed loudly into his drink at her words and he was sure Raven felt his spike of emotions as she shot him a quick glance. Dom? As in – holy shit. He blinked and tried to ignore how loudly his heart beat in his ears. He ignored the hot jolt than ran through him. “I – ugh, her what?”

Raven rolled eyes at Tracy and sent Tim an amused smile. “Easy. He’s new, Tracy,”

Ignoring Raven, the woman dressed up like a very sexy Mario brother leaned over their glass table and whispered very loudly. “She’s looking for a dom or a switch, just so you know,”

“Oh,” breathed Tim and his gaze involuntarily turned to Raven, who quirked her lips lightly in response. Well, was that information Tim needed? He wasn’t sure. But will he store this information for later? Yes. He inhaled softy as his stomach flopped and stray thoughts flittered through his head. He silently wondered if Dick knew about all of this – Dick would kick is his ass if he knew he was here with Raven.

“So you were saying about your plans?” Raven turned her attention back to the couple across of them. Crossing her legs, Tim’s heart jumped at the sight of thigh-high white stockings, Raven comfortably leaned back into the sofa and eyed her friends. If she could sense his keyed up emotions, she displayed no indication. “Are you expanding your studio or not?”

“Oh, yeah. Like I said we hit a few snags when we opened one of the old walls and discovered that the piping needed replacing. Most of the pipes are ancient like Gotham,” Tracy made a face and took a hearty swig from her cosmopolitan. “I’m talking to some contractors to see what can be done,”

Raven frowned. “Didn’t they tell you about the piping issue when they sold you the adjacent complex?”

Lady X rolled her eyes and leaned back into her seat with a sigh of exasperation. Some of her silver bracelets clinked as she moved around. “They did but we didn’t expect that it’d be that bad.” She shrugged and sent Tim an annoyed look. “Some of these brokers are just lying assholes, you know,”

Tim blinked trying to catch up with the conversation. Admittedly he was a bit miffed at the normalcy of the conversation on renovation work in the middle of a BDSM club. But then again, what did he expect to hear tonight? “I’m sorry, I’m not following?” he blinked and offered them an apologetic smile.

“Tracy owns an art studio,” Raven explained and took a tiny sip from her mojito. “They’re expanding the studio but hit some snags along the way,”

Tim nodded. “You’re an artist? That’s amazing,” he said. Tracy blushed at the praise while Lady X seemed to beam with pride. Leaning forward over the table just a little bit, she grinned at Tim.

“She painted all of this,” she said and waved a perfectly manicured hand over her body. “Such a talented artist, my little pet is,” she practically purred and sent Tracy a fond smile.

Tim blinked and ignored the pet endearment. Briefly glancing at Raven, he shared an amused smile with her, and looked at the intricate leopard body paint on the woman’s body. He nodded and smiled at them. “That’s really beautiful,” he said.

“Thanks,” Tracy beamed. She fiddled with her empty cosmopolitan glass. “So yeah, I’m trying to get something arranged with a few contractors to fix the old piping. We tore down a few walls to open up the space and discovered the piping was rusty and not up to building code. We need that fixed before we can proceed with expansion renovations of the annex building,”

“You could also go after the guys who sold you the place. If they were not totally upfront with the issues of the complex you’re getting, maybe there’s something that could be done?” suggested Tim. And he immediately went into details of some legal remedies they could take.

“Oh wow. Okay,” Tracy nodded and released a deep breath. “That sounds like something we could do,”

Tim took a sip of the last of his scotch and offered her a smile. “Talk to your lawyer to figure something out,”

Lady X sent Raven a look and her black eyes sparkled mischievously under the dim orange lights. “Looks like your new friend is pretty useful,” she said.

Raven chuckled and shrugged. “Looks like it,” she said playfully and the two shared a smile.

A man dressed in nothing but black appeared next to their table suddenly. The words ‘Dungeon Monitor’ were written across a bright orange sash he wore. “The St. Andrew’s Cross is ready for you, Lady X,” he said before turning around and heading back to the pleasure areas.

“Wonderful,” Lady X clapped her hands and stood up. “Come, my pet,” Tim watched as Lady X bent over just a little bit and hooked one of her fingers through the large silver hoop that hung from Tracy’s collar. She tugged the woman into a standing position and gently pulled her away from their table. “You’ll come watch us?” she asked them over her shoulder.

“Watch?” Tim breathed, his brain catching up with what that truly meant.

Raven smiled and shrugged at the woman. “We’ll try to catch up. Enjoy,”

The woman in leopard body paint shrugged with a smile. “Your loss,” she said before roughly tugging Tracy through the crowd.

Tim watched them disappear around the corner and into one of the pleasure corners, or dungeons, he wasn’t all too sure. They were likely the same – and did they just invite them to watch them? He stared at the corner for a second too long.

“Curious?”

Raven’s voice brought him back from his thoughts and Tim turned back to Raven, and finally, finally¸ got a better look at her as she turned her full attention towards him and shifted in her seat to face him. She was dressed in a plain leather white corset and tiny white booty shorts that really left nothing to the imagination. He was sure he stared a second too long, as Raven tilted her head expectantly and the corners of her eyes crinkled just a little bit in amusement.

“Oh,” Tim breathed and felt his ears ring just a little bit. He watched her shift gracefully in her seat and folded one of her legs under her as she faced him. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. He swallowed nervously and surveyed the crowd of naked people around them. “I’m honestly not sure why I came back,”

Raven shrugged and idly took a sip from her mojito. “That’s okay. It’s a lot to take in,” she said. She offered him a small smile. “It’s nice you’re back though,”

Something stirred inside of him and Tim smiled lightly. “Yeah?”

Raven tilted her head lightly and her eyes shone under the dim lights. They could hear the loud cracks of a whip through the air, and Tim watched her gaze slip over his shoulder. Her lips curled just a tiny bit. He swallowed as a thought crossed his mind – did she want that? He felt heart jump into his throat at the stray thought and watched a languid smile grow on her lips as her attention turned back to him. “How do you like it so far?” she asked as she propped her left elbow on the back of the sofa and dropped her chin into her hand, eyeing him in amusement.

“I got good company,” Tim chuckled as Raven snorted softly. He absently fiddled with his glass before placing it on the table. “I’m surprised how normal conversations are here,”

“What? The building expansions? What did you think we’d talk about here?” Raven asked teasingly. She watched Tim look around briefly and take in the people milling around the lounge area. “I don’t know,” he replied as he turned back to Raven.

Raven smiled assuringly. “Clubs like these are close to any other club. What makes places like these special is the level of trust and respect that goes into these places and among the patrons. You come here as yourself, you can explore and enjoy what you like – with appropriate safety limits – and there’s no judgement. Just as safe space for being yourself. With the level of trust and respect that goes into places like these, you’d be surprised how much safer they are compared to your regular clubs,” she said. She looked around briefly before turning back to Tim. “Consent is important here.”

“I noticed that,” said Tim, nodding his head in agreement. He did see how vastly more respectful the crowd was here compared to any other club he had been too. He turned his attention back to her, taking in how comfortable, and alluring, she looked. “So, I’m a Random Biker, what are you?” he asked playfully.

Raven laughed, a sound he was growing to quite like hearing, and titled her head making the little plastic halo dance over her head. “I thought it’d be funny to dress like an angel, all things considering,” she said.

“You make a pretty impressive angel,” he said before he could really think it through. They both paused, ambient techno music falling over them, and they shared a look. Tim watched as Raven’s lips lifted into a small, pleasant smile.

“Were you able to have a look around?” she asked suddenly.

Tim shook his head. “No, when I saw you three I just about arrived.”

“Well then,” Raven breathed and offered him a mysterious smile. The ambient techno music shifted into a louder dance beat and the crowd cheered. “You’re not busy tonight, finally,” she began and leaned into his space just a little bit. He could faintly smell her lavender perfume. “Let’s go have a look around tonight.”

He watched her gracefully stand up and Tim was sure his breath caught in his throat as she stood before him in nothing but her leather corset. He knew it was impolite to stare, but – she was a sight. It was mindboggling to see such a different side of Raven from all the years he had known her – and he would be lying to say he was thirsty to see this side of her more.

As a muted groan drifted through the air and the two shared a look, and Tim admitted that yes, he was curious. So damn curious – he was Tim Drake after all.

“Sure,” he said. He stood up next to her and Raven beamed, bending over and picking up something discarded on the table. A thin riding crop.

Despite her strappy heels, Raven barely came up to his chin. She tilted her head up just a little bit and Tim watched as the shadows of some of the spider decorations danced across her collarbones and cheeks. He held his breath. She held the riding crop in her hands and smiled. “Great, let’s make sure you have fun tonight,” she told him softly.

Tim desperately wanted to know what that meant.

[whitewitchdani]

Laters, Baby: Chapter 12

Read Chapter 11 Here

Word Count: 1780

Pairing: Winchester!Sister x Reader

Warnings: angst, language, description of injury, mention of a serial killer

A/N: Sorry I’ve been MIA y’all. I had to go back to work and it sucked. lol. Here’s chapter 12! Let me know what you think and if you’d like to be tagged. :)

Laters, Baby Masterlist

“Simple salt and burn my ass. Did Bobby do any research on this house before he gave us this case?” You complained as you sat at the motel table doing research while Dean cleaned his gun on the bed and Sam had just finished showering.

“Why, what’s up?” asked Sam as he approached you from behind drying his hair.

“This house was the site of a serial killing. A victim of the BTK killer was killed here, oh my god.”

“No way. Really?” Sam asked as he looked at the laptop over your shoulder.

“BTK? What the hell is that?” asked Dean as he slid a magazine into place.

“Seriously Dean? He’s one of the most famous serial killers in history; he killed at least 10 people. I learned about him in one of my classes at Stanford. BTK stands for bind, torture, kill. Guy still gives me the skeeves,” you shuddered.

“Shit really? And this is a victims house?” Dean asked as he walked toward the motel table.

“Yeah checks out. And the way the people have been being attacked lines up with the way the girl was attacked and killed,” answered Sam.

“So is it the victim or BTK?” Dean asked as he walked around the table and sat down, leaning back to reach the fridge and grab a round of beers for everyone.

“Well Rader, BTK, died in prison. So there’s no reason for him to be tied to that house. I’d say it’s definitely our girl,” you replied as you accepted the beer from Dean.

“This is going to be an interesting case,” Sam said with a sigh as he took the beer from Dean and sat down. “Haven’t had a good ghost hunt in a while.”

“It says here she’s buried in the town cemetery. So, Dean, you wanna go dig her up while Sam and I go to the house?” you asked as you shut the laptop.

“Why do I always get the dirty jobs?”

“You lied to Sam and me for over 25 years; I don’t want to hear you complain about anything I ask you to do for a very, very long time,” you batted your eyes at your eldest brother.

He nodded his head at you, “Touché, kid. Touché.” 

------------ Later at the house, you and Sam made sure the place was empty. The previous occupants had fled after the last attack, leaving the home vacant. It was silent in the small house, until the ring of Sam’s phone caused both of you to jump.

Sam grabbed it and looked at the caller ID, “It’s Dean.” Flipping it open, he put it on speaker and answered. “Hey Dean, did you find the grave?”

You both heard heavy breathing on the other end of the line, “I’m getting too old for this shit.”

“You’re 30, Dean,” Sam rolled his eyes, “Did you burn the bones?”

“Yes I burned the bones,” he replied out of breath. “I just finished filling in the grave.”

“Alright, Sam and I will sweep the house one last time so just get back here.”

“Super.” Dean rasped out before he hung up.

Sam flipped the phone closed and turned to face you, “Well, you take upstairs and I’ll take downstairs?”

“Meet back at the front door and then we can get the hell out of here in time to hit the bar.”

Sam rolled his eyes with a smile as you ran up the stairs. You looked through the bedrooms and, finding nothing, began to trudge back down the stairs. As you hit the second step on the staircase, you felt two hands in the small of your back and before you could react, they gave you a hard shove. With a scream, you tumbled down the stairs and landed at the bottom with a thump.

Sam came scrambling around the corner to the base of the stairs to see you groaning at the bottom. “Y/N!” He rushed to your side and breathed a sigh of relief to see you were still conscious. “Are you alright?”

“Just peachy, Sam. Not like I just fell down a damn flight of stairs or anything.” You rolled your eyes at your twin. Attempting to stand, you hissed and grimaced as you put weight on your right hand, “Ah! Son of a bitch! Goddammit I think I broke my wrist.”

Your brother grabbed your wrist to examine it and opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the front door slamming open. You both turned expecting another ghostly encounter, only to see your older brother strut in waving his gun around.

Dean walked in and cleared the room before looking at his siblings on the floor, “I heard Y/N scream, what happened?”

Sam helped you stand as you answered, “Well, either our girl’s tied here some other way, or there’s something else in this house. Something pushed me down those stairs and now my goddamn wrist is broken.”

“I burned those bones, there’s no way that ghost is still here.”

“Then what else could be here?” Sam crossed his arms in frustration.

“Well I didn’t throw myself down the stairs. Something is here,” you groaned as you held your wrist and leaned on Sam to stay upright.

“Good observation, Winchester.”

All three of you turned to follow a British accent towards the staircase finding a tall, blonde man standing in the middle of them. As your eyes met his, he flashed his blue eyes onyx causing every Winchester in the room to let out a collective sigh. 

“Seriously? I’m gonna kill Bobby. Simple salt and burn my ass,” you repeated your sentiment from earlier in the evening.

“Don’t blame your surly hunter friend, Winchester. Before I arrived it WAS just the spirit here.” The demon began to descend the stairs as he spoke, “No I’m here for a different reason all together.” 

“What could you possibly want?” you yelled.

“You, Miss Winchester. You see, our Father has issued a bounty on you. Any demon that brings you back to him alive will be rewarded greatly, and I intend to be that demon.” His thin lips curled into a sickly smile. 

“Like hell.” Dean fired the shotgun into the demon’s chest, causing him to fly backwards. “Time to go.” He grabbed your good wrist and pulled you through the front door, Sam pulling up the rear. 

Suddenly, Sam got thrown by a force into the lawn.

“Sam!” you yelled. You and Dean turned to look back and saw the demon in the doorway. 

Your brother put an arm protectively in front of you, “You aren’t taking her to Lucifer. Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged.” The demon smiled, “Just give me the girl and no one gets hurt. For once no one gives a rat’s ass about the infamous Winchester brothers, just their whore sister who miraculously is the soulmate to the devil.”

“Hey!” You yelled at him. “Just because you’re a demon doesn’t give you license to be a dick.”

“No one talks to my sister like that.” Dean lifted the shotgun once more but with a wave of his hand, the demon flicked it out of his hands. With another wave, Dean was thrown away from you.

“Dean!” He and Sam were groaning in a heap on the lawn, leaving you alone with the demon on the sidewalk. You turned your attention to him, “I’m not going with you.”

“My dear, I don’t think you’ll have a choice. See, I’m a demon and you’re an injured, female hunter. Not exactly much of a fight,” he smirked. In a flash, he backhanded you across the face.

Your face turned to the side with the force. You looked at him wide eyed as you wiped the blood from the corner of your mouth, realizing he had a bit of a point. But you’d be damned if you went down without a fight. Bringing your leg up behind you, you grabbed Ruby’s demon knife out of your boot. You leaned forward and slashed, making contact with his arm.

“AH! You bitch! You’re lucky Lucifer wants you or I’d kill you right here.”

“Not if I kill you first you black eyed bastard.”

Fighting with your non-dominant hand was difficult, but you held your own. The demon got a few licks in, but he was no match for the knife. Dean yelled from the lawn, causing the demon to look away from you just long enough to make your move. With one swing, you brought your left hand around and plunged the demon knife into his chest, causing him to spark orange inside his vessel as he died.

The vessel collapsed on the ground as your brothers rose from it, making their way over to you. You bent over and pulled the knife from the man’s chest, the blade still smoking. 

Sam got to you first, “You alright?” He grabbed your face to check the split lip and saw a bruise forming on your cheek.

“I’m fine Sam. I just need Bobby to set this stupid thing and I’ll be good as new.”

“Friggin’ demons man.” Dean growled as he made his way to the driver’s side of the Impala. 

“My sentiments exactly. But Dean, Lucifer issued a bounty for me. Attacks like this are only going to get worse,” you slid into the backseat with your twin, him tending to your injuries.

“I know, kid. We’ll figure something out.”

Dean threw the car into drive and headed back to Sioux Falls. With a yelp from you, Sam set your wrist and wrapped it in a bandage from the first aid kit. You gave him a look of contempt as he did so since you A. weren’t expecting it and B. expected Bobby to do it when you got back.

“You better not have fucked that up, or I’ll re-break it on your jaw,” you smirked at your brother.

“Ha-Ha. You know it’s right; I wanted to get it set before it started to heal wrong.” He sighed, “What are you thinking Y/N/N? I can see your wheels turning.”

You sighed in return, “That I should just go to Lucifer like I planned. You and Dean are gonna get hurt soon and I don’t wanna risk it.” You replied to him lowly so Dean wouldn’t hear; he was pissed enough.

“You know that isn’t an option.”

“I know but-”

The screech of the impact of metal on metal interrupted you as another vehicle rammed into the passenger side of the Impala. The car flipped twice before landing right-side up on the side of the road, leaving all of the Winchester’s inside unconscious.

Read Chapter 13 Here

Tag List:

@lovesamwinchester​ @tomhiddleston-is-mischief​ @ditu-m9​ @stuckinsaudi1​ @sugar-nico​ @potato-extra-pot​ @humbledarkness​ @the-fiery-ghost​ @jo-wayward​ @streetghostfighter07​ @millieccino​ @some-local-dumbass​

[eatprayworm]

without fox demons, no village is complete: an essay on tsomd’s li zilong and fox spirits

The big bad of The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty live action series, Li Zilong, is in many ways a mystery. We never learn his real motivations for wanting to take down the emperor, and there’s so many odd details about him that don’t add up (how did he disappear in thin air from Wang Zhi?). I propose a theory that provides an explanation for this antagonist: he is a fox spirit. I use a combination of sources to come to this conclusion. Let’s read.

The Real Li Zilong

A good place to start is the history of the real life Li Zilong. According to “The Eunuchs of the Ming Dynasty” by Shih-shan Henry Tsai, the Chenghua emperor established the Western Depot in 1477, with Wang Zhi at the helm. What made the emperor create the Western Depot? Well! The original mission of the Depot was to investigate the case of Li Zilong, a “transvestite” (the book’s words, not mine) who allegedly practiced witchcraft and had magical abilities. Li Zilong worked with a court eunuch to sneak into the imperial harem and mingle with superstitious women. And so, the Chenghua emperor created the Western Depot and had Wang Zhi search for any other witches or strange people. Wang Zhi went on to become a terror in the lives of many common folk.

So, the real Li Zilong was tied to mystical practices.

The Book Li Zilong

What about Li Zilong in the novel? Well! I haven’t read the novel so I can’t fully speak to it, but I’ve read some passages that describe Li Zilong. In chapter 3, Tang Fan discusses the Demon Fox Case, about a golden fox demon who was sent in to kill the emperor. This demon fox was said to be killed by the Ming Dynasty’s founding emperor. There was also a Taoist named Li Zilong who appeared around the same time, and for whatever reason, the court associated Li Zilong with the fox, and he was executed. After Li Zilong was executed, the emperor established the Western Depot so he’d have a more reliable source of information.

Since I haven’t read the novel, I can’t say if Li Zilong is really dead or if there’s more information on this case. I’d love to hear if there is! Otherwise, what we can infer here is that Li Zilong was, most likely, a fox demon spirit out to kill the emperor.

The book is not the show, though, so this could be dismissed. However, I propose that the show version of Li Zilong is indeed a fox spirit. To better explain why I believe this, we need to understand a few things about Chinese fox spirits.

What are fox spirits?

There is a very long history of fox spirits in Chinese lore. I’ve done a few hours of research, but I am by no means an expert, so take all of this with a grain of salt. Likewise, fox spirits are called many terms (huxian, humei, huli jing, to name just a few) and they have various roles within ancient lore. For the purposes of this essay, I’ll focus on some general fox spirit information.

There are some generally accepted lore about fox spirits. According to old records, fox spirits have long lives and can take different forms depending on their age. When they reach 500 years, they can take the form of a beautiful woman, a handsome man, or an old wise scholar. When they reach 1,000 years, they may enter the heavens and become a celestial fox.

In some stories, foxes are seen as good omens who bring wealth and fortune to humans. In other stories, foxes take human form and seduce men or women. In others still, foxes are seen as signs of misfortune, sorcery, and rebellion.

Powers

Fox spirits are noted to have particular traits and powers, including:

strike their tail on the ground to cause fire

the ability to possess humans

ability to see into the future

can see events up to 1,000 li away

invisibility

pass through walls

a cunning and trickster disposition

Motives

The motives of foxes vary. Some have no moral alignment. Others seek to play mischief and tricks on humans; others steal the spirits of men so they may increase their own.

There are also tales of fox spirits taking revenge, either for themself or a deceased individual. To quote one source, “Typically in folklore the Chinese fox had two basic motives, to show its powerful shape-shifting ability by assuming the form of a person or demon to achieve the second motive: that of revenge for some crime it perceived, real or imagined.”

Interestingly, this is not the only source to discuss fox spirits and revenge. One tale speaks to a fox who cursed three generations because it was harmed by the family. Another source states, “...the Chinese revenge-fox stories: the killed fox is able to punish his murderer, being almost as clever as he is.”

Li Zilong? A Fox?

Now, why do I think the show!Li Zilong could be one of these crafty fox spirits? It’s a combination of canon clues and some inferences on my part. Let’s begin!

Age & Revenge

Li Zilong tells Princess Gu’an that he is a descendant of the Li family, who ruled during the Tang dynasty. The Tang Dynasty. What’s interesting to note is that the Tang Dynasty ended in the beginning of the 900’s - over 550 years before the present day in the show. Why would a descendant from this very old royal family have it out for the emperor? And what does this have to do with foxes?

The Tang Dynasty was the height of fox and fox spirit worship. The Tang Scholar Zhang Zuo noted: “From the beginning of the Tang Dynasty, many of the commoners worshipped fox deities. They offer sacrifices to them in their bedchambers, and food and drink offered are the same as those consumed by humans. At the time there was proverb saying ‘without fox demons, no village is complete.’”

There are other mentions of fox demons and their roles as gods. In one instance, dozens of “fox demons” appeared at a temple honor Li Jing, a Tang Dynasty general who was revered as a god. In another instance, a temple was erected for the “fox kings” in the land. In the year 1110, the Grand Councilor ordered that 1,000 fox-king shrines should be destroyed. (Li Jing? Some demon foxes being called huli jing? interesting coincidences.)

So. We have Li Zilong, who was a descendant of the royal family that ruled during the height of fox worship. What’s more, Li Zilong wears the same type of headpiece that the Chenghua emperor wears.

Was Li Zilong truly the descendant of royalty? Or, is he perhaps royalty from the era itself, a remnant of the fox kings of old? After all,  why would a descendant of the Tang Dynasty care about an emperor who lived hundreds of years later, unless he’s been around long enough to have a reason to care? Could he, like his book counterpart, have been slighted by the Ming Dynasty’s founding emperor?

When he finally confronts the emperor, he stares and says he’s waited a long time for this day. Maybe he’s waited over a hundred years.

Photos for reference:

Powers & Omens

Li Zilong exhibits traditional powers of fox spirits.

Invisibility. When Wang Zhi and he are walking out of the brothel, he tells Wang Zhi to look away. Wang Zhi looks away for a few seconds, turns back, and Li Zilong is gone. There’s no hint that he leaped away; he seemed to disappear out of thin air.  Or, perhaps, he simply turned invisible. He pulls a similar trick when Tang Fan sees him across the street, but he disappears after a carriage goes by. Naturally, he probably hopped on the carriage. But….what if he didn’t. Additionally, how did Li Zilong get into the brothel when he was holding the meeting with the Oirats? Why was he so unafraid to be in public when he was literally public enemy number one? Only someone who could disappear quickly could have such confidence.

Precognition/knowledge. Li Zilong knew everything about everyone, even when it didn’t make sense for him to know these things. How did he know so much about the chicken cup? How could he predict the moves of the heroes again and again and again? How did he know the history of individuals so well? Sure, he had men that kept him informed. He had Qing Ge. But his ability to not only know so many past and current events, and keep a thumb on so many individuals and schemes (like the Yunhe silver situation) for years is very, very impressive. Almost inhumanly impressive.

Fire. Now, Li Zilong himself does not have the power of fire, but he sure is attracted to it. Ding Rong describes the explosions of the bolang as a sea of fire - and wouldn’t that appeal to a fox who can strike fire with his tail? Imagine being able to amplify this natural ability. Li Zilong seemed to grow particularly protective and fond of the bolangs; his eyes would light up, he asked for far more than he ever needed. A fox with a penchant for fire indeed.

Wealth & Rebellion. Li Zilong fits the archetype of the fox being both a benefactor and an ill omen. He says time and time again that he’s a businessman, and indeed he is: he fills the pockets of men (and himself) with gold, so long as they follow him. Sounds almost like worship? And wouldn’t an old fox king just love that? Additionally, Li Zilong is considered a rascal, an outsider, a rebel; Shang Ming, Wan An, and Wan Tong will collude with him, but they still deem him an “other”, an outside force. Fox spirits were typically seen as the other, as a sign of chaos.

Miscellaneous

Here’s some additional details I picked up while rewatching that lend some credence to my fox theory.

Fox Rings. On one of his hands, Li Zilong wears orange and black rings, side by side. These colors are typically associated with foxes.

2. Actual fox reference. In episode 47, Li Zilong warns Qing Ge that you cannot run from the eyes of the “three old foxes.” These mean the corrupt officials, of course. But what’s even more curious is what Dong’er tells the emperor: don’t run from Li Zilong, because he will always find you. So who is really the old fox here?

3. Qing Ge. One of the most common tales of fox spirits is them taking on the form of beautiful women to enchant men. Li Zilong adopting a skilled courtesan who canonically has men falling at her feet? Could this old fox king see a potential fox spirit in this adoptive daughter?

4. Tang Fan. In the Encyclopedia of Demons in World Religions and Cultures, the author states that “huli jing are especially fond of attacking virtuous scholars, as reasonable and virtuous people enrage them.” Li Zilong focused on Tang Fan as his real enemy. Not Sui Zhou. Not Wang Zhi. And why, when all three would eventually lead to his downfall? Because I think Tang Fan was the exact kind of scholar who Li Zilong couldn’t outsmart and beat, and he hated it.

5. Eyes. When Li Zilong falls down and dies, his eyes briefly change color. They flash from grey to silver; in the next scene, they’re brown again. What happened here? What spirit has left him? Could it be the death of a very old fox?

Conclusion

Fox or human? Descendant or royalty? Who knows what a Li Zilong is, but I think we can certainly assume he isn’t human - and may be the trickster from old. Ultimately, this is just my headcanon. At the end of the day, he may just be an old man who wanted to cause havoc for the hell of it. But I think this is a fun theory to entertain, and it gives him far more depth and intrigue than canon gave him otherwise.

Again, I am no expert in Chinese lore or Chinese fox spirits. Any mistakes are mine, and I’m certainly open to corrections!

[yankyo]

Message Recieved- Part 2

Part two of the fuckboi Beej idea that @beetlejuicebeadoll thought of!

Warnings: mention of hypnosis, stalking, general creepy beej, light hints of sexual frustration

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

Ding.... Ding.... Ding.... Ding

       You refused to look up, what was the point? You already knew which jackass it was that was spamming you this late at night. The only douchebag who never went on silent, no matter how many times you tried turning off the ringer. 

Ding... Ding... Ding... Ding... DingDingDingDing

With a few choice expletives snarled under your breath, you snatched up your phone, "Can you shut the fuck up already? I'm reading it!" You snapped to the empty air, hoping the bastard was close enough to hear you. Fuck, you barely had to hope, he never seemed to stray far now. You scanned the texts, your irritation growing with each word. 

🐞🥤: hey, hey babes 

🐞🥤: I'm booored 

🐞🥤: at least put on some TV or somethinggg 

🐞🥤: babes, stop ignoring meeeee 

🐞🥤: I'm dying heeeere 

🐞🥤: figuratively lol 

🐞🥤: hey, whatever happened to the sexy shorts?? 

🐞🥤: can we bring those back?? I miss them 

🐞🥤: babes, are u still ignoring me?? 

🐞🥤: baaabes 

"Don't you have something better to do with your life?" You snarled, glaring at the empty air. 

🐞🥤: not living, babes. 

"You fucking know what I mean, you dickbag!" 

🐞🥤: ooh keep talking dirty babes 

       You threw the phone this time, an almost too common occurrence ever since this creep decided to situate himself in his life. The fact that any of this could be common was crazy, but apparently humans could get used to anything and in the past few weeks of being haunted, you found that you were more irritated by the pervy spirit currently possessing your phone than actually scared. After all, all he could really do here was annoy you through the phone, he couldn't affect anything else or really cause trouble without you saying his name three times and since that wasn't happening anytime soon, the both of you were more or less stuck with one another. At least until you could figure out a way to get him out of your phone. 

       Ding, ding, ding the sound of your phone made you sigh, but you turned on the tv and just tried to ignore it now. Beetlejuice loved getting under your skin, constantly flirting and joking around, just trying to either make you blush or piss you off - usually succeeding with both. Every day ended with him begging you to say his name to no avail, and then every night he would torment you with stupid dreams. That was the worst part of it all. Every single time you tried to go to sleep, you saw him, could feel his rough hands pinning you down, felt his lips painting a sweltering path along your skin as he growled his devotion to you. You dreamt of those sharp teeth of his gleaming in the light, hovering just above your neck as a cocky smirk spread across his face, you had woken up begging for him to bite you, thankfully you hadn't said his name, but it was getting just far too close these past few nights. And the worst part was that no matter how desperately needy you woke up, you couldn't do anything but take a cold shower and try and not think about the promises he had hissed in your ear in your dreams while the fucking bastard acted like he had done nothing wrong. It was frustrating and even when you tried to ask him, he would just get all the more cocky with you and ask you all sorts of questions about your dreams as if he wasn't the one causing it. Prick. Well, you weren't going to just give him a free show - and besides, the idea of him just watching you was.... ding, ding, ding. God. Fucking. Dammit. 

🐞🥤: u know, babes 

🐞🥤: u've been looking awfully tense lately 

🐞🥤: I could help out u no.

You scoffed, shaking your head, but you didn't dignify that with a response. 

🐞🥤: nothing pervy ya know, a little massage

🐞🥤: I'm real good w/ my hands u know

🐞🥤: just an offer

Having his hands on you was the last thing you needed right now! Implications of what freeing him would actually do aside, if he was this distracting just living in your phone, you shuddered to think of the mischief he could get into if he was free. 

       "I'd be a lot less tense if you moved out of my phone and found someone else to fuck with." You deadpanned. 

🐞🥤: 😢 hurtful, babes 

🐞🥤: I LIKE being here with you tho

🐞🥤: ur pretty and cool and all, sides 

🐞🥤: u summoned me, can't leave til my name is called and all that 

How the hell that worked, you had absolutely no clue. You did know that swiping right on tinder did not equal a summoning, but then again, what did you know about summoning a ghost demon fuckboi? "Got anything else?" Why you asked, you didn't know. The smart thing would have been to just leave the phone there and go to bed, hope that you could get through the night without any more frustration, but the thought of going back to those dreams and not having an outlet for them.... yeah, not how you wanted to spend another night. 

🐞🥤: hmm 

🐞🥤: I've got one trick, but I dunno if U'll be up 4 it. 

You should back out now. You should just step away and find something better to do with your time. "What's that?" 

🐞🥤: Texting isn't all I can do. 

For a moment, you were confused, you knew he could somehow send pictures. They were blurry as all hell, but got the point across. And the thought of asking him if he meant what you thought he did was enough to make you want to self combust right then and there. 

🐞🥤: .... my voice is weird tho 

Oh. Oh. How did that work? "You can call me?" You pressed, curious now. Silence. The screen went black and a mass of unintelligible letters popped up as a distorted ringtone echoed through the apartment. Now would be a great time to collect your brain cell and run. Maybe to a church or something, stop being the main white lead in every horror film and perhaps not be possessed by a being you barely knew anything about - why were you answering the phone? 

       Static rippled through the speaker, the person on the other line drew in a trembling breath. 

       "Hey babes." His voice was low, gravelly, it sent a tingle down your spine. 

       "H...hey..." what were you even supposed to talk about now? "Your voice isn't weird." Perhaps it was the nerves, perhaps your own awkwardness, but thankfully Beetlejuice laughed, a soft, deep chuckle that somehow made you join in as well until the sound turned cold, intimidating, almost threatening. 

       "Just wait. You ain't seen nothin' yet." The desire to drop the phone and run was back, but you were glued in place. "Breathe, babes. Can't have you passing out on me yet." You exhaled a shaky breath you hadn't noticed you were holding in. "Good. Relax now, I ain't gonna do anything scary." Almost against your will, tense muscles relaxed and you leaned back against the couch, eyes falling shut. You hadn't lied, his voice wasn't weird, it was nice, almost too nice. Though he never raised his tone above a husky purr,  it filled you, his voice was your entire world. "Better. Now, what's got you so tense, huh, doll?" 

       "You do." The response was automatic, you couldn't have stopped yourself if you tried. 

       "Just me? Come on, that can't be it. You were tense when I got here." He was right, you couldn't blame all of your frustrations on him, there had been a reason you had been scrolling through tinder from the beginning, after all. 

       "I...." 

       "You can be honest with me, you know. You're lonely, just like me, aren't you?" The words were settling in your bones, dragging out those thoughts you had been pushing down. 

       "Yes." A breath, a relieved exhale that made your heart twist violently in your chest. 

       "Isn't it better to be truthful with yourself?" You found yourself nodding in response. "You can depend on me, I won't let you be lonely anymore.  You don't even have to say my name, just don't chase me away, let me stay by your side just like this." Just like this? How was this satisfying for him? Bound within your phone, invisible and formless, only able to reach out from within a screen - it had to be torture. 

       "Why me?" The question shocked both of you and the spell that had settled over you shattered. "How is this good?" You pressed forwards, and for once, you had rendered Beetlejuice silent. "Why didn't you just force me to say your name or something? Don't you want to be free?" 

       "I..." it was his turn to flounder.

       "Better yet, why stay here? Why waste your time on me at all? I'm not giving you what you want so why don't you just leave?" 

       "I just... I..." 

       "You don't know anything about me anyways, Beetlejuice, I'm not that treat of a person, why cling to me like this?" 

       "I DO KNOW YOU!" His purr had become a wail and even as your phone slipped from your fingers, his voice came through the speaker clear as ever. "I know you." He repeated, insistent. "I know how you speak to yourself when you're alone, how you laugh at your own jokes and console yourself when you're sad. I know how you like to fall asleep watching old crime shows, but will get so scared that you wrap yourself up in your blanket and walk circles around your home to make sure everything is safe. I know that you meet people just to shy away the second they try to get close. I know how your face brightens when you laugh and how your eyes dim when you're sad. I know you hate crying, so you cry in the shower so there'll be no evidence left behind." You were backing away from the phone now, how could he know all of that? He's only been here for a week, right? Your phone was shaking now, the screen sparking with green and blue and red. "I know you because I watched you. Because I love you. Do you know how long I've waited just to be able to talk to you like this? So you would know who I am?" He watched you? He called your name, the sound sharp, imploring. "I just want to be a part of your life. I don't want to be invisible anymore!" Scared wasn't an accurate enough word for how you were feeling in that moment. You felt as if you would be sick. You had to get away from here. Away from him. "W-wait!" As you stepped back, he called for you, as if he could sense what you were doing. "Don't leave me, please. I'll be quiet! I'll stop being so annoying! Babes!" 

       "Stop calling me that!" The scream echoed through the apartment and Beetlejuice fell silent, your phone screen turning a darker purple before it finally turned black - but you were already turning on your heel and running from the apartment.  

[halomisthios]

ch. 7 sneak peek!

ch. 7 of being alive will be uploaded sometime Saturday, 11/21! if you haven’t read the prior chapters, ^ there’s the link!

-

THUD.

Beatrice’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Camila dropping a thick stack of books on the oaken table.

They agreed to meet in the small library located in the research portion of ARQTech at seven that morning; due to the latest development regarding Ava’s condition, Beatrice had underslept as her mind was racing with questions and theories.

The library consisted of books and articles on biology, chemistry, physics, engineering, theological legend, mythology, and demonology. Beatrice had already grabbed a few hefty books regarding Catholic canon, while Camila had more of a mountain on demons and myths from multiple cultures.

Beatrice’s eyes scanned the horizontal titles, “Encyclopedia of Demons and their Origins, Biblical Demonology,” Beatrice read aloud as she picked up the latter, opening the front cover as she looked up at Camila, “A little out of our normal scope, don’t you think?”

Camila blinked and then shrugged, “At this point, I’m willing to read anything to get some answers.” she replied, sliding into the chair adjacent to Beatrice, “Like you said, there’s more within the realm of possibility than we thought.”

Beatrice nodded, reading the table of contents in the book, suddenly interested. Camila smiled slightly, feeling a little victory at her chosen approach, “Find something you like?” she teased.

Beatrice looked back up, making a face as she nudged Camila’s foot under the table, “Come on, get reading.” she replied, getting her notepad ready to jot down anything that stuck out to her.

The younger woman’s smile turned into a grin as she flipped over the large hard cover, flipping through the pages to find her intended piece of information, diving into the content.

Half an hour passed of reading, page flipping, and deep breaths before Camila shut the encyclopedia, dissatisfied. 

“Just names and descriptions of nothing,” she muttered, reaching for another book, Greek Legends and Myths.

Beatrice, though, did find something all too familiar.

“... An angel known as Adriel, meaning ‘God’s helper’ or ‘Man’s saver’, was cast away and imprisoned.” Beatrice blinked rapidly as she picked up her pen, beginning to scribble down the text as she read, “... His crimes consisted of undermining God’s plan and unleashing the damned onto God’s creations to cause mischief and ruin, specifically in the case of the Battle of Mount Tabor, possessing the Israelites to slaughter the Canaanites despite God’s intention to allow them to flee.”

Camila had since paused her own reading, focusing on what Beatrice was narrating aloud.

“He was locked-” Beatrice swallowed as previous events flooded her mind, her hand trying to keep up with her mouth and mind, “He was locked away in a stone cave deep underground before the construction of Rome, his eternal prison lying beneath what is…” Beatrice looked up at Camila briefly before reading the final lines, “... now Vatican city. Legend says the fallen angel Adriel is still there to this day.”

Camila had an unbelieving look on her face as she sat back in her seat and scoffed, shaking her head. Beatrice marked the page and closed the book, setting it aside and resting her head in her hands.

“We were lied to.” she stated plainly, an incredulous laugh escaping her in a breath.

Camila willed herself out of her shock, shifting her chair forward, “And now we know the truth,” she said with finality, Beatrice looking up in her direction to meet her stare. Camila’s eyes held no sharpness or irritation, but a firm confidence in their endeavors taking place now. 

Beatrice nodded softly, turning to reach for another book, Texts on Demonology and Devil Figures, smoothing her hand over the embossed cover, considering.

She placed the book to the side, instead picking up her stack of Catholic and adjacent books and moving to stand.

“I’m going to put these away,” she paused, looking down at the small stack, “... for obvious reasons.” she added quietly.

Camila nodded gently, her eyes sad at seeing Beatrice so dejected, “Take your time.”

-

damb :/ they just keep getting smacked with more covered up secrets.

this is just a lil teaser! be sure to tune in on sat. for the new chap, its a juicy one!

[themanicmagician]

Future GO Fic Snippet

Hey Folks~

Since this oneshot is taking a bit longer then I thought, here’s a sneak peak of a pair of scenes (subject to further revisions) to tide you over until its completion. We start out on an angsty note, but I tucked some smut below the cut 😘

~*~

Aziraphale is falling.

That must be what this is. It makes sense. He gave away his divine sword. He fraternized with the enemy instead of smiting him on sight. And, perhaps, his worst transgression of all: he lied to Her.

The humans are long gone, far from the gates of Eden. The serpent slithered after them. Aziraphale had watched him leave, a ribbon of black twisting along the dunes of sand. The angel had intended to follow—just to make sure the snake wasn’t going to stir up any further mischief, that’s all—when he was suddenly struck to the ground by an unimaginable pain.

He fought in the Rebellion, led a platoon of his own. He’s not new to physical pain. He all too clearly recalls when an unholy sword dug into the meat of his thigh, the excruciating torture that was battlefield surgery.  

This is so much worse. His chest is searing, burning, like he’s being carved open. Is that what’s happening? Is God ripping her Grace out of his soul, wresting it back by force? He wants to apologize. To beg for mercy. Anything. But agony clogs his throat, and he writhes in the sand, clawing at his chest, trying to keep himself whole. The pain crests, and he loses all sense of time and space, dumb to anything outside of the hot lashes against his skin.

The sun vanishes and rises four times before the pain finally slopes off, and his mind is his own again. Aziraphale drags himself upright, and hobbles through the eastern gate, into Eden.

God’s despair has soured paradise. The flowers are wilting, foul-smelling clumps. The trees have all shed their leaves, and insects ravage their insides. Aziraphale stumbles to a stop before the nearest pool of water. It hasn’t yet dried up into crusted mud, but it won’t be long, surely.

Aziraphale reluctantly looks down at his reflection.

He staggers back. “Oh, God.” He chokes. His wings are white, pure white, as they’ve always been. He twists every which way, to be sure, and there’s not so much as a lone black feather, no clinging ash or sulfur. He hasn’t Fallen, after all. So then, what—?

With fumbling hands he unknots his robe and steps out of it. The pale flesh of his chest has been carved open with a molten gold, a single word branded across his skin in flowing Enochian:

Liar.

Aziraphale’s heart thumps with fear. She knows. Of course She does. Did he actually think he could get away with it? She’s omnipotent and omnipresent. She gave him the opportunity to redeem himself, to confess that he’d given away Her sword, and he’d lied about it. 

Aziraphale traces a hand around the lettering, and winces at the residual sting. He should be grateful. He could’ve Fallen for his many transgressions. How many had been cast from Heaven by his blade, or on his orders? As demons, would they remember him still? Would they torture him for the eternal damnation he’d sentenced them to? Better to never be among them, to never find out the answer to that question. Things are better like this, certainly. Better to branded (like a beast), than Fall. He is grateful for Her mercy, he thinks, and almost manages to convince himself he believes it.

~*~

After the Ritz, they go back to Crowley’s. It’s Aziraphale’s choice. Once they’re in the Bentley, Crowley begins driving in the direction of the bookshop until Aziraphale, emboldened by his escape from Hell and perhaps three glasses of celebratory champagne too many, places a plump, manicured hand on Crowley’s knee and asks to be taken to Mayfair instead.

Crowley sobers for the lightning-fast drive, and Aziraphale follows suit before long. As lovely as the pleasant fuzz of mild intoxication is, he wants to remember every second of tonight.

The front door of Crowley’s flat is barely shut before the demon presses him up against it. He peppers kisses up Aziraphale’s neck, his jaw, before crashing their mouths together. It’s sloppy and frantic—they can’t get enough of each other. Crowley’s glasses go askew, and he irritatedly rips them off his face. They clatter off to the floor. Aziraphale groans into Crowley’s mouth, and drags his demon closer still.

He can feel Crowley’s need pressing hot and insistent against his thigh.  

“Take me to bed, Crowley.”

Those wonderful amber eyes darken further with lust.

“Yesssss.”

Crowley scoops him up like he’s a damsel on the front cover of a bodice ripper. The romantic gesture steals Aziraphale’s breath, and he huffs incredulous, happy laughs into Crowley’s neck as he’s carried into the bedroom.

After placing Aziraphale reverently upon the bedspread, Crowley attempts to extricate himself from his stylish, too-tight pants.

“Nhrght—stupid—blasted, shitty, nrgah—”

Aziraphale watches him flounder and hop about for a moment, a fond, amused smile on his lips, before he scoots over to the edge of the bed, in front of Crowley.  

“Let me help, darling.”

He finishes unzipping Crowley’s trousers. He hooks his fingers in the belt loops and eases the fabric down, slowly, inch by careful inch.

“Angel,” Crowley whines with barely-leashed impatience.

He’s wearing black briefs beneath. There’s a visible damp spot in the fabric. Aziraphale leans forward and mouths around the obvious bulge, his breath hot and wet. His tongue presses fleetingly against the fabric, tasting. 

Crowley bucks, pressing himself against Aziraphale’s open mouth. “Fuck, angel. What you do to me.”

Then he’s kicking off his pants the rest of the way before tackling Aziraphale onto the bed. Aziraphale rolls his hips, and they both groan as their clothed erections brush together.

“Let me—I want to—”

Crowley’s hands dive beneath Aziraphale’s shirt, stroking his skin, squeezing the rolls of his stomach. They creep upward, closer to the brand.

Aziraphale goes rigid.

“Why do you wear so many blessed layers?” Crowley complains.   

 His hands retreat from Aziraphale’s stomach, but his relief is short-lived, as Crowley’s nimble fingers dart up to unbutton the front of Aziraphale’s dress shirt.

“No!”

Aziraphale clamps his hands around Crowley’s wrists. Crowley stills, one button undone around Aziraphale’s collar. Aziraphale’s heart pounds so loud he’s sure Crowley can hear it.

“Angel?”

“I just—not that. I’m not ready. Yet.”

He never will be, but Crowley doesn’t need to know.

“Alright,” Crowley says, withdrawing.

Aziraphale has fooled around with humans before (rather difficult to go 6,000+ years without being a little curious what all the fuss was about) but that’s all it ever was—fooling around. They were always furtive, illicit fumblings, where both men remained fully clothed, ready to straighten their ties and button their collars at the first sound of an unexpected interruption. He wasn’t thinking—love and lust had clouded his mind—and he’d nearly given away his darkest secret, just like that.

Once he’s calmed, he realizes his panic poisoned his arousal. Moments ago he’d been eager as anything, prepared to hilt himself on Crowley’s cock and ride him with abandon. Now, he just wants to bundle himself up again, and soothe his frayed nerves with a good book. Crowley sits cross-legged on the bed, more than an arm’s-length apart. He’s watching Aziraphale with unveiled concern.

Aziraphale fidgets with the balding velvet of his waistcoat, and bites his lip. “Oh, I’ve gone and ruined it, haven’t I?”

Everything had been going so well.

“No!” Crowley denies, sharply. Quieter, he repeats, “No.”

He extends his arm towards Aziraphale’s, reaching slowly for his hand. Giving him ample time to pull back if he wants. Aziraphale instead meets him halfway, and their fingers thread together. 

“Whatever you want, angel.” Crowley says, his thumb stroking the side of Aziraphale’s hand. “Whatever you need.”

Aziraphale is awash with gratitude—and shame.

“I’m sorry. You’ve waited so long for me to...catch up, so to speak.”

Crowley let slip a low, wounded noise. “Aziraphale, you don’t owe me anything. You’re not obligated to do this—” He gestures to their current half-dressed states. “—if you don’t actually want to.”

Aziraphale clasps Crowley’s hand between both of his, and draws him closer. “No, I swear to you, that’s not it. That’s not what this is about at all.” He pinkens. “I very much want to be with you in the....biblical sense. It’s just…”

Oh, what to say? Not the truth. What good would that do?

“It’s just…?” Crowley prompts him, softly.

Dear, kind, wonderful Crowley. How will he look upon him if he knows what Aziraphale really is? What he’s kept from him for so long, too long?

He casts about for a believable excuse. His hands land upon the slight swell of his belly, and it comes to him.

“I am aware, and there have been comments acknowledging the fact that I am not, erm. In perfect physical condition. That I could stand to, you know.” Aziraphale pats his stomach. Crowley’s expression darkens. “Slim down a tick.”

“Who said?” Crowley growls.

Aziraphale glances away. “No one important.” He lies.

It’s all a load of tosh, for the most part. Yes, Gabriel’s comment about him needing to “lose the gut” had stung. But the Archangels have always found something to nitpick about him and his choices—be it his weight, his hobbies, his miracles. The hurt he felt was more in that he constantly sought their approval, and never managed to earn it. He received acknowledgement and recognition only for those moments he despised; he got an accolade for helping Noah construct the ark, and then slam its doors to a sea of faces.

Aziraphale likes himself, his body. He can change it easily enough, if he really wants to spend the miracle, but he is happy with the image humans have of him, of a silly little bookseller who gives warm hugs. Someone harmless and squishy that you can come to with any problems, and expect a plateful of biscuits, warm tea, and earnest compassion from.

Aziraphale twists the ring on his pinky round and round, praying for Crowley to believe him.

“I still want to do everything—anything—with you. I just need this,” He tugs down his shirt. “To stay on, during. If that’s alright.”

“Of course. If that’s what you need, angel.”

Aziraphale flashes him a grateful smile, and tugs Crowley over to him for a kiss. It’s softer than the kisses they’d exchanged moments ago. There’s nothing sexually charged behind it; rather, it’s just meant as a reassurance, a comfort.   

The brand itches. Guilt pools hot and heavy in Aziraphale’s gut.

[woossexyponytail]

Shadow Born, Chapter 5, How it all began.

Masterlist.

We made our way home. Auntie already waiting for all of us at the front door.

"Come in, come in darlings" auntie said as we all followed her to the kitchen.

The guy's looked around the building, being their first time in the house. Yeosang almost walked in to Leviathan stand, he hoowd at him, peeking at Yeosang's head. Ducking and jumping away, he freaked out until he saw it was an owl. Wooyoung watching the whole thing pointing and laughing at Yeosang.

Though then Wooyoung walked in to Vinegar Tom cage, as he slithered up to Wooyoung. He turned around seeing the snake and screamed as he ran behind Hongjoon. Yeosang laughed back at Wooyoung as I rolled my eyes at the stupid scene and Yunho chuckled at the two. Auntie made us sit down in at the dining table.

"A nice pot of calming tea might help soothe all of your nerves." Auntie said going over to the kettle to make us tea. Auntie placed the cups down on the table for us.

"Thank you auntie but my nerves are perfectly fine. Which is more than I can say for you lot. Running around like headless chickens." I said grabbing my cup and taking a sip.

"So can someone please explain to us what the hell happened?" Hongjoon asks looking around at the three of us waiting for an explanation. "Yeah and why was I able to summon a a demon?" San asked looking confused, he looked up at me and I couldn't help but look away, I don't want to be the one to tell him.

"We are not human but something called shadow born we have magic in our blood" auntie said as she sat down with us to explain. "Shadow born? What does that mean?" Wooyoung asked looking around at us.

"Like witches?" Jongho asked grabbing his cup and taking a slow sip. "In other words, yes" Yunho agreed nodding his head.

"Shadow born, How is that possible?" Hongjoon asked rubbing his head, "Well I'm hoping you all know your Christian study's" auntie said looking around at the guys.

"Like God?, Satan?, heaven and hell?" Yeosang asked raising an eyebrow at that. "Yes exactly. Shadow borns where born from fallen angels millions of years ago" auntie told them.

"Fallen angels?" Wooyoung asked I could feel his eyes burning in to me, I just rolled my eyes. "Fallen angels are  angels who were expelled from heaven. The literal term fallen angel used to describe angels who were cast out of heaven, or angels who sinned. Such angels often tempt humans to sin." I said shrugging at them.

"So Shadow born are angels?" Yeosang asked eyes wider then I've seen, his mouth dropping open.

"It's a little more complicated. You see it started as a war in heaven between  angels led by the Archangel Michael against those led by the dragon, identified as lucifer the morning star or the devil, who was defeated and thrown down to the earth." Auntie said.

"The motif of a heavenly being striving for the highest seat of heaven only to be cast down to the underworld." I said, just then I heard a meow, looking over Stolas came running over and jumped up on my lap.

"Yep he was cast down then mocked by God. 'How you have fallen from heaven, morning star, son of the dawn! You have been cast down to the earth, you who once laid low the nations! You said in your heart, 'I will ascend to the heavens; I will raise my throne above the stars of God; I will sit enthroned on the mount of assembly, on the utmost heights of Mount Zaphon. I will ascend above the tops of the clouds; I will make myself like the Most High.' But you are brought down to the realm of the dead, to the depths of the pit. Those who see you stare at you, they ponder your fate: 'Is this the man who shook the earth and made kingdoms tremble, the man who made the world a wilderness, who overthrew its cities and would not let his captives go home?'

Once on earth he created his own religion, satanism. Leading many angels that stood by his side in the war to become followers once again." Auntie explained.

"Shadow borns are descendants from fallen angel's, we have angel blood that allows us to step foot in holy lands. God believes shadow borns are abominations" Yunho said as he stood up and grabbed some crisps from the cupboard.

"Abominations?" San asked his eye glued on to Stolas as he leaned over and scratched behind Stolas ear, the cat started purring.

"Haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes, feet that are swift in running to mischief, a false witness who utters lies, and one who spreads strife among brothers." I told him watching as Stolas jumped over to San and sat on his lap.

"So sixteen years ago God's plane started and sent his disciples down to earth to exterminate all shadow borns, which is why so many people died in the attack here, one of them being your farther, San." Auntie said her voice low and soft, looking over sadly at him.

"My...my farther?" San froze looking over at auntie shocked about that, I watched closely as I saw some tears in his eyes, I rubbed his shoulder as he looked up at me, a sad smile now placed on him lips.

"You are half shadow born, that's why you were able to summon that demon" auntie explained. "Jongho is a full shadow born, but no one knew so both of your magic was dormant for being suppressed for so many years" she said walking over to the sink.

"And how do we get our magic back?" Jongho asked eyes wide with excitement. "You little one have to cast a spell, any really. But you are a little harder to deal with, after all you need someone to do a reborn ritual for you. Most likely Yn." Auntie explained further rubbing her chin.

"WHAT!?" I said as I chocked on my tea not expecting auntie to say something like that. "A reborn ritual? What's that?" San asked now looking back over to me.

"Auntie that's really dangerous-" I ignored San's curious eyes as I looked over at auntie, but then Yunho interrupted me. "Not to mention really intimate" he said chuckling at the situation, I slapped him at the back of the head.

"Uhm what!?" San asked eyes wide again as he looked over at Yunho who was now rubbing his head. "EXACTLY!? No absolutely not, I'm not doing it" I told auntie crossing my arms.

"I think it should be up to San if he wants to do it or not, right Yn?" Auntie asked, I slumped down in my seat getting uncomfortable.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

After that auntie sent the guy's home safely as I started walking to my bedroom. Yunho came running up behind me putting his hands on my shoulders and started jumping.

"Today was soo fun! best Halloween ever!" Yunho yelled as he carried on jumping over to his room, once he got to his door he turned around and smiled at me.

"It's nice that we've got some good friends here" he said and then giggled as he said night and closed his bedroom door. I sighed and made my way to my room closing the door, Stolas jumped up on the bed meowing.

"I don't care if you like San, I'm not going to do the reborn ritual" I told him crossing my arms, Stolas meowed again, "No you know what I would have to do, we're not even that close" I explained.

"What do you mean he likes me?" I asked glearing at the cat as I sighed and sat down on my bed, Stolas jumped up on my lap meowing again, "No I didn't see him blushing, and No he wont text or call me soon" I said rolling my eyes.

Just then my phone started ringing. Getting up and walking over to my phone that was charging, I picked it up and saw who was calling, my breath caught in my throat as I saw San's name.

"I hate when your right" I sighed glaring at Stolas as he meowed and walked over to me. Clicking the green button I put the phone to my ear.

"Hey Yn it's San" I heard, I took a breath to cool my nerves, 'nerves? Why was I so nervous?' I thought shacking my head.

"Hey San, what's up are you okay?" I asked wondering why he called, San was silent for a little while before he spoke up again.

"Uh about the reborn ritual, can we meet tomorrow so I can talk to you about it?" He asked, I agreed and told him where to meet and what time, after that we hung up.

Putting my phone back down, I looked over at Stolas as he meowed at me, I rolled my eyes at him, "Yeah yeah, shut up" I told him as I started to get ready for bed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

[xxkellsvixen19xx]

Every Rose Has It's Thorn Pt 5

Word Count 1,239

Colson’s cold hand moved from my face and down towards the confines of my top, with a shake of his hand he removed it, his hand immediately finding my breast and kneading it. His touch was something I had craved for so long yet never knew; and his lust-heavy eyes were my ending. I fell to him, his lips moulding to my own with the ferocity of a wild animal. With the elegance of royalty, he lifted me from the ground, wrapping my legs around his leather clad hips as he moved me to the bed, spreading me before him as he vanished my remaining clothes. I could feel my arousal as it swelled and burned between my legs, begging for his hands. Colson’s clothes disappeared with just the flick of his wrist as he crashed against me, his tongue pushing its way in my mouth to battle with my own. His teeth, sharp and threatening, bit down on my already swollen lip and I let out a groan against him. I found my hands moved up until they found his hair, burying my fingers amidst those blonde locks and pulling him closer to me.

He bit down on my neck feeling my warm blood fill his mouth. Taking a switch blade he slit open his arm blood dripping down his arm. "Drink." Came his demand. 

His hands were freezing, a delightful contrast to the flush on my skin as they roamed freely against my waist, my hips, my thighs. Despite the spreading of sin across my flesh I arched up against him, begging to be closer. With expert precision his palm pressed deliciously against my wet folds, applying pressure where I needed it most before plunging two fingers inside me.

“Colson,” I breathed, unsure why his name sounded so comfortable rolling off my tongue.

 “Do you wish me to stop?” He urged, his fingers curling up inside me until I found myself grinding shamelessly against his hand as his lips landed against the base of my neck. This was different; different to the possessive need he showed before, his movements were rough but the gentle nature of the kisses he was patterning across my naked skin were now so safe.

Within moments he moved to position himself at my opening, the sensation of his solid cock pressed against me filled me with a need more primal than anything. I found my hands pushing against his back, begging him silently to rid me of the emptiness. Colson buried himself inside me with such force I could feel myself releasing a pained scream but moments later and I was complete. His rhythm so slow, so torturous that I found I couldn’t focus on anything except meeting him, our bodies colliding until the friction was too much for me to handle.

Colson’s arms moved to wrap around me as he thrust me upwards into his lap, urging me to take what I needed from him. My arms wrapped around his strong, porcelain shoulders, his hands directing my movements as his fingertips dug so deeply into my hips I  he drew blood.

“Cum for me, Wren,” His words were all I needed as my orgasm came crashing down upon me, waves of pure, unrivalled darkness swallow me as I clenched around him. Colson’s hips bucked up into me, his muscles twitching as his cool seed filled me.

For minutes afterwards we remained in the same position, my legs wrapped around his body and his hands supporting my backside. The intimacy was almost too much to take as I breathed him in, my face lying against his shoulder and my eyes shut in fear he would do as I had asked and leave.

“How do you coax the last shred of humanity I have left in my broken form to the surface?” Colson mumbled, his lips dropping lazy kisses on my collarbone.

“That’s not the last of your humanity you can feel,” I replied, moving until my forehead was pressed against his, “It’s the last of mine.”

            To my surprise, Colson didn’t leave straight away. He lay us down against the softness of my mattress, the sheets tossed idly across our naked bodies as he drew patterns across my skin with the tips of his fingers. I wanted desperately to believe he wasn’t the same beast; the same monster who had killed so many people with his sordid plans. But the truth was, it was the same man. The shattered remains of what I was sure had once been a warm, gentle boy, were reflected now in his eyes.

“They got the results back from those tests they ran,” I said, my voice breaking him from his lazy daydream.

“Fairy DNA, I know,” He replied, his voice laced with nonchalance.

“You knew?” I questioned, pulling the sheet up to cover my chest as I sat up.

“I had a feeling,” Colson shrugged, moving his hands until they rested beneath his head.

“You had a feeling?” A laugh escaped from between my lips, “What the hell is that supposed to mean, you had a feeling?”

“You have two scars on your back,” He mused, “Your wings were clipped, I’m presuming as a child since you have no memory of such a thing,” The disinterest in his tone caught me off guard and I found myself unable to form a sentence.

“You didn’t think you were a dark fairy, did you?” Colson mused, giving me the sudden urge to punch him in the face.

“You are unbelievable,” I grunted, leaving the bed altogether in search of some clothes. I angrily pulled on a t shirt and a pair of jeans and sat myself down in one of the chairs opposite the bed.

“There was no spell on those chains,” Colson added, “They were made of iron, it was a test, to see if my theory was correct.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I shook my head, dizzying myself in the process, “The Golden God of Mischief and Lies ladies and gentleman,” I threw my arms up into the air for dramatic effect – my reaction clearly amusing Colson as his lips lifted into an all knowing smirk.

“Oh darling, don’t be so theatrical,” That air of devilry had reappeared in his voice.

“Theatrical? I’m sorry I’m a little confused as to how I could have possibly moved through life believing I was human only to find out I’m what, exactly?”

“There are many names but given that you were raised by humans I’d be more inclined to refer to you as a changeling.”

“A changeling? The small demonic children left in place of human ones? How quaint,” I mocked.

“Oh, calm your tedious woes, little bird, I’m quickly tiring of your emotional outbursts,” His eyes caught mine and he smiled once again, “Are you planning on throwing me out again? So soon?”

“Are you forgetting I could alert everyone here of your presence and have you back in your cell in no time?”

“Go ahead, let us explain together what terrible things I have done to their precious Y/N child – I’d be curious to know just how far their fidelity stretches,” The threat was enough to hush my argument, he was right after all. What exactly would I say? Sorry guys, I accidently slept with the villainous mastermind that tried to murder most of the inhabitants on earth, mind letting this one slide?

[readbythestarlight]

Right so y’all know THIS post by @marveliciousfanace about angels and rules and meet-cute AUs involving flaming shovels? I loved it and I couldn’t resist so uh... here’s a fic I guess. Enjoy!

_______________________________________________________________________

His head has only been above the ground for about a second when the first blow falls. With a hiss he scrambles, coiling up and wiggling away. What in God’s��in Sat—in somebody’s—?

Somewhere above him, between the whooshing and the bashing, he hears a voice, sounding a bit on the panicked side. “No! Bad demon! Bad!”

Something hits him again and he sees stars, and not the ones he helped make, either. Hits him again and he sees a whole nebula of them, all bright and sparkly and burning. 

Get up there and cause some trouble, they said, it’ll be easy. Right, he thinks, easy, before the something hits him again and the world turns to black.

***

“Oh dear.”

It’s that voice again. Slowly, ever so slowly, while his senses filter back in, Crawley takes stock of his surroundings. The first thing he notices, with no small amount of relief, is that nothing is hitting him. The second is that everything seems very soft, something pleasant and cool under his body (not his snaky body, he’s a little confused to discover), and something warm and cushiony beneath his head.

Cautiously he peeks one eye open, and the second is quick to follow, both eyes squinting up at the bright world. At first everything’s a bit of a blur, all dazzling white light and beautiful blue eyes and green fluttering back and forth. Then it all sort of shifts into focus, and there’s a face, looking down at him with a frankly adorable amount of concern, fanning him with some sort of giant leaf.

It is, he thinks, a rather lovely face.

“Ngh,” Crawley says.

“Sorry? Didn’t catch that,” the face replies.

“I ssssaid, ouch,” Crawley replies in turn, although of course that wasn’t what he had said, but had sort of been what he meant.

The face turns fretful. “Yes, of course. Do just rest there a moment, I’m sure it’ll feel better if you just lie still.”

Crawley listens, not feeling much inclined to get up anyway. He looks up at the angel (of course it’s an angel) with his golden slit eyes, which seem to frazzle said angel if he holds his gaze for too long.

“Who are you then?”

“I’m Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Garden.”

“Ah.”

“And you are?”

“Crawley,” he answers, although he’s been thinking of changing it. It doesn’t really feel like the right name.

“Ah.”

There’s something Crawley thinks is missing, something he’s forgetting. It takes him a few minutes to think of it, which can probably be blamed on the (several) smacks to his head.

“Didn’t you have a flaming shovel?” he finally asks. He doesn’t see it, although he doesn’t really lift his head from the angel’s lap to look. But he’s suddenly quite sure there was one.

Aziraphale, seeming suddenly shamefaced and freshly flustered, looks away. “Ah,” he repeats. “Well, yes, about that...”

“You did!” Crawley insists. “You did, it wasss flaming like anything, you— hold on. You hit me with it!”

With a wince Aziraphale begins to look really upset. “Yes, well!” he says. “What else was I to do?! You came up out of the ground and you startled me, and I — yes. I hit you. I really am very sorry.”

Crawley thinks he has the right to be a little sore about it. “You can’t jussst go bashing people with shovels. I hadn’t even done anything yet!”

“Yet,” Aziraphale agrees, and the reminder that Crawley very likely would have done something seems to sooth his guilty conscience somewhat. “But you would have.”

Fair point, Crawley privately admits. “How do you know?” he asks anyway. He likes being a little contrary.

“You’re a demon, dear, that’s what you do,” Aziraphale answers. Crawley merely shrugs.

“Alright, fair.”

They sit in silence for a moment or two, the angel shielding them both with his wings, still waving the leaf to brush a cool breeze against Crawley’s skin. It’s rather pleasant, really.

But he’s supposed to be here to cause mischief, and so reluctantly Crawley sighs. “Well, bessst I get on with it, I suppose,” he says. He sits up and frowns, rubbing the back of his head. Behind him Aziraphale tuts and fusses, keeps a hand on his back to be sure he’s steady.

“Are you sure you’re up to it just now?” he asks. “I mean, I’d rather you didn’t make any mischief at all, but if you must you really ought to wait until you feel better.”

Crawley looks back at him. Aziraphale seems sincere (of course he does, can angels be anything but?) and it’s... Crawley would never admit it, even under pain of hell’s worst tortures, but it’s really rather sweet, having someone fuss (even if that someone was only fussing because they’d smacked you with a holy gardening tool in the first place).

“You may have a point,” he muses. With a shrug he lies back again, head settling once more into the angel’s lap. Aziraphale, seeming somehow both discomfited and pleased, pats his shoulder.

It’s rather nice, Crawley thinks, and decides that introducing humanity to the concept of good and evil can wait just a little longer.

[cilly-the-writer]

Endgame but we get what we want and people are alive

IN THE SOUL STONE:

Quill making a universe for everyone in the soul stone out of his celestial magic because his father lied and he never lost his powers 

Shuri utilizing Quill's celestial powers to tap into the power of the infinity stones and monitor what’s going on in the real world, and successfully creating an inter-dimensional teleportation prototype. Peter Parker volunteering to be the test subject

Shuri's systems getting fried after sending Peter outside the soul stone world. Not knowing if he made it. Fighting like hell to recreate a new prototype

Wanda regaining enough of her power to distract Thanos from their plan

T'Challa, Bucky, Sam, and Dr. Strange interactions. Groot.

THOR:

Thor getting visions to return to Norway. Being the first one to leave the group—Rocket tagging along with because he's lonely and Thor can speak Groot 

Thor somehow visiting Odin and Frigga in the afterlife and asking for Loki, but Frigga saying, "He is not here." The silence hanging in the air when they realize he's probably in Hel

Heimdell stepping forward and saying, "I do not see him there."

Thor being all wHAT, but Heimdell explains that he cannot see him anywhere across the nine realms. "In any case, that's not why I called you here..." Then revealing that he got his powers from the soul stone. How else do you think Heimdell can see all the billions of souls across the nine realms? His eyes ARE orange like the soul stone so

Instructing Thor on how to claim the soul stone from Thanos' possession by traveling into the soul world and bringing Gamora back. Heimdell then pinpointing Valkyrie's and the other Asgardians' location. He's gonna need them

INFINITY WAR REVELATIONS:

We find out that Dr. Strange used the time stone to freeze time on Titan to teleport himself into the quantum realm, where time is irrelevant and he's unaffected by the events that occur outside of it

We find out that Dr. Strange sling-ringed Loki to the quantum realm when he stepped off screen in Infinity War

Dr. Strange and Loki agreed to work together as masterminds to restore what was lost because they can both remotely peek into the universe from the quantum realm 

Bumping into Scott, who they share their plan with

ENDGAME PRESENT:

Sending Scott to Avengers Headquarters and revealing that Tony is still alive

Loki casting his illusion into space to find Tony. Loki using the quantum realm's "life giving force" (alluded to in Dr. Strange's origin movie when he met the ancient one) to revive him from space death

Nebula and Loki recognizing each other and acknowledging how Thanos tortured them both

Carol arriving to give Tony's spaceship a boost and deliver him safely to Earth

Scott, Tony, and Bruce each working on the science involved in powering up a multi-user time machine to collect each of the infinity stones—Dr. Strange already having the time stone in his possession 

Tony taking it upon himself to deliver the rest of the infinity stones to the quantum realm so that Thanos will never realize they have been missing from any point in time

Dr. Strange simultaneously concentrating on freezing up to six different points in time once each stone is retrieved

Revisiting the battle of New York and traumatized Loki to retrieve the space stone

ENDGAME RISING ACTION:

Carol helping Eitri make a second gauntlet because she can withstand just as much star power as Thor, if not—more

Deciding not to go back into the past to retrieve the soul stone before Thanos—because he'll know the jig is up (and it would dramatically alter how Infinity War ended). Waiting until they get Gamora out of the soul stone

Clint going to the soul stone world with Thor and Valkyrie maybe. And idk, fighting fake reality stone demons Thanos created to keep Gamora in the soul world

From there, the Avengers know they're on the clock and someone must immediately make a, uh, sacrifice for the soul stone. No idea who would make that sacrifice, hahaha *nervous sweat*

ENDGAME CLIMAX:

Going to Vormir, getting the stone, and fighting with Thanos in the present timeline. Once the soul stone disappears from his gauntlet, he will know what's up. But he'll still have FIVE stones and can teleport right to the avengers

Cap and Stark fighting their best fight ever side by side, completely synchronized in attack mode

Peter Parker appearing in the quantum realm and meeting Loki. Dr. Strange sending him out to help with battle

Waiting for Captain Marvel like, "OH MY GOD, CAROL, WHERE ARE YOU, WE NEED YOU RIGHT NOW," because her job is going to be to hold Thanos off IN THIS TIMELINE

Pepper being suited up and ALSO ready to hold Thanos off in this timeline, much to Tony's dismay. But she reassures him that it's not this timeline that matters (hint: this is where the dark stuff happens)

Tony traveling to the events in Infinity War just before the snap and Dr. Strange and Loki working together to pull some quantum realm shit. Gives everyone their roles and tasks

Thor and Loki finally interacting in the quantum realm and having a tearful reunion… because… them defeating Thanos is entirely dependent on Loki returning the ship where Thanos committed mass genocide on their people

Loki knows he needs to die at the hands of Thanos so that the events in Infinity War don't get catastrophically altered 

The SNAP still happens, but they allow it happen so that it renders Thanos' gauntlet in this timeline useless 

The LAST BIG FIGHT OF THE MOVIE?

Cue new infinity gauntlet and Dr. Strange handing over the infinity stones he's been holding onto in the quantum realm. All the dust reforming into everyone who disappeared

CONCLUSION:

The other timeline where Tony left Pepper, Cap, Carol, and others to hold off Thanos disappears

Loki returns to the ship to face his death

The only thing left to do is return each of the infinity stones to their respective timelines and unfreeze time there. Easy enough

Tony and Cap retire

SURPRISE! Pepper and Tony are having a kid. And Harley is back and he wants in on the Iron Man business. Tony can't stop him because he's already building his own suits

Captain Marvel pops up again and is completely aware of the lost timeline and what happened in it. She takes Steve to go see Peggy. Steve's all, "But that would alter the timeline!" and Carol is all, "No it wouldn't. It's already in the timeline." thanks to maybe Howard Stark or someone. Idk, it COULD HAVE happened

Dr. Strange reflects on everything that occurred in the quantum realm with Loki and decides him and Heimdell are both deserving of a resurrection. He uses the time stone to achieve this hello Loki God of Mischief on Disney+

Clint gets his family back and Nat and Bruce get together

AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER

THE END  

feel free to add on to this

Based on various theories, the Endgame cast list, and fan wishes floating around—here is a big head cannon theory mash up that balances enough drama, risk, and sacrifice to live up to the hype and high stakes of Endgame