#in turn Crowley will be lifted as he always is from his place of fear and running by aziraphales strength and determination to make things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spiderling-space · 3 years

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This idea is inspired by @zozobegone ‘s this post

Setting: Grim goes platonic yandere mode when he realizes MC is going to go back to their world

It is written from Grimm's perspective

Italics indicate thoughts

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The Great Grimm

Warning: Unhealthy dependency and friendship

"Henchperson, give me those candies!" Grimm ordered (Y/N) after trying so many times to reach the top shelf.

"Aw, you couldn't reach yourself?" (Y/N) had seen Grimm jumping and trying to climb to take the candies. They didn't do anything but watch him fail for the last 10 minutes, they couldn't help themselves as he was being so cute. "What's the magic word?"

After grumbling a little, Grimm spoke coercively, "Please..."

"That's a good boy!" They patted him on the head before grabbing the candies and giving them to him.

He started devouring them the moment he got his hand on the candies. He thanked them quickly before focusing entirely on his food. They were just so delicious, he couldn't resist it!

"Honestly Grimm, what will you do once I'm gone?" They sighed as they took a seat in the kitchen.

The words didn't register for Grimm at first. "Eh?" He stopped eating for a moment and looked at them. "What nonsense are you babbling about?"

"Hmm? Oh! Well, you know, it's been months and lots of progress have been done. Crowley finding a way for me to return home is right around the corner." They spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"That birdman doesn't do anything but whine and pin all the tasks on us."

"I convinced him to do the actual work and he made a progress on finding a way for me to go home." (Y/N) stood up, walking toward him and kneeling to his height. "I'll give you a secret, I haven't told anyone this." They gulped before smiling, "Crowley found the way for me to go back. We just need ingredients and get some tests done then I'll be able to go back. I haven't told others about it yet because I wanted to have something concrete but since you are like my second family, I wanted you to know first."

Huh, he thought.

Grimm continued eating, ignoring what (Y/N) had said who got up and left the kitchen after sharing their secret. At that moment, it didn't bug him at all since he thought they were joking.

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It didn't even pass a week that (Y/N) started to tell the others that they would be leaving soon and ask their help to get the ingredients and spend their last days together. Meanwhile, Grimm became more and more irritable as the days passed by.

Grimm didn't have a family nor a friend. When he opened his eyes to the world, he was in a back alley by just himself. He fended for himself and decided to become the greatest magician when he heard people talking about Night Raven Collage. He didn't have anyone who supported his dream nor he needed one. He would accomplish it on his own and show everyone how great he was. Of course, things didn't go as planned and he got thrown off the moment he revealed his true self at the entrance ceremony and was even threatened to get eaten. What's worse was that when he returned to NRC, showing the persistence of an NRC student, he was about to be thrown again. That would be the case if it weren't for (Y/N) sticking up for him. He wasn't a sentimental monster and he hated to be called cat by (Y/N) despite his catly activities as they called it. However, deep down he knew it was because of (Y/N) that he became a student in the NRC, getting one step closer to achieving his dream. Heck, he and (Y/N) were considered one student together.

It wasn't just (Y/N) creating him an opportunity that made him care about them, it was everything. They studied together; they slept on the same bed, shared meals and snacks, played games, did homework, complained about the school and students together. Not to mention, how much he enjoyed getting petted, belly rubbed and washed by them. They had each other when no one was around and always stood against overblot student together. In Grimm's eyes, they were an inseparable and astonishing duo; even a family he never had, not that he would say it out loud.

Maybe that was why he was miffed by everything that was going on... What would happen to me if (Y/N) were to go back? Become alone again? Get kicked out of NRC? Have no friends and family? No, that's not going to happen!

As the days passed, the attention he got from (Y/N) diminished gradually, came to a point that he only saw them in classes and when they got back. They were out with another person every day, not sparing enough time for the Great Grimm.

How dare they, he thought while heatedly huffing and puffing on the couch.

Grimm dearly missed the old times when (Y/N) wasn't obsessed with going back. He didn't even receive enough petting last few days nor they studied together. His mind wandered to their time spent together when he noticed something. (Y/N) would leave everything behind regardless of how important it was when he got into serious trouble or got hurt. They would sweep in to save his neck. It just clicked at that moment.

He would get into trouble or injured to get their attention on him. However, then the other minions would gather around them too and their attention would be divided. It was not something he wanted. An idea struck in his head after a few minutes of thinking. As expected out of the Great Grimm, it was a brilliant plan.

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"Oh my goodness, Grimm! What happened to your paw-paw?!" (Y/N) rushed to his side, kneeling and examining his paw.

Grimm grumbled acting as if he didn't want to tell them. "Nothing, Great Grimm is fine!"

"Don't be ridiculous! It looks broken!" The worry on (Y/N)'s face was gratifying since he got their attention back.

"Ask your best friends," He answered with faux melancholy, withdrawing his paw near his chest and turning back as if he would leave.

"What does that supposed to mean?" They asked, confussion evident on their face just like Grimm wanted.

"Azul tricked them into doing his work and asked them to collect all the feathers on the roof. Ace and Deuce took me with them then we got into a fight and I fell off the roof." He lowered his head for extra effect.

"And they didn't even take you to the infirmary?!" He managed to get them riled up.

"It was my fault th-"

"That's not an excuse! For fuck's sake! C'mon, we are going to the infirmary." (Y/N) wrapped their arms around Grimm and lifted him en route to the hospital wing.

"Hey (Y/N)! Do you -"

"I can't believe what you two did!"

"What we did?" Deuce mumbled, fearing their wrath.

"Don't talk to me for some time and at least take responsibility and apologize!" (Y/N) stormed off before Ace could finish his sentence. Both Ace and Deuce look perplexed as (Y/N) marched away. Grimm was looking at them over (Y/N)'s shoulder, taking in their puzzled looks and flashing a grin as (Y/N) walked away.

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For the next two weeks, Grimm continues with his plan.

"I swallowed a lot of soapy water." Grimm said as he was rubbing his belly, it genuinely hurt. Swallowing soapy water was more awful than hurting his paw.

"Azul! You promised to not do this and shame on you Jade, Floyd!"

3 more down, plenty to go...

"Leona, have you seen Grimm? He is way smaller than you! How couldn't you realize what your claws would do on Grimm?"

"Ruggie, Grimm got food poisoning because of you! You could have just stolen his food instead of replacing them with expired ones."

"Jack, I've never expected this from you. I'm very disappointed."

"What? What are you talking about?" Jack asked hastily but it fell on deaf ears as (Y/N) didn't even listen to him, grabbing Grimm and leaving them standing.

Woo hoo! My plan is working fantastically!

"He could have died Kalim if it were higher!"

"Jamil, I thought you would stop making people poison taste. Grimm has been puking all day long because of you!"

Grimm grinned wickedly as he was once again carried by (Y/N).

Wait until I'm done with all of you! HAHA, You cannot defeat me!

Grimm was thinking of new original ways to distance (Y/N) from the rest of Heartslabyul, Pomefiore, Ignihyde and Diasomnia. The last one would be the hardest as he had a powerful competitor who also sought (Y/N)'s attention but it didn't matter, Grim would be the only one!

That was what he thought until Birdman came bearing the news...

"(Y/N)! Good news! All the tests we did on the mirror worked! You can go back now!"

Everything stopped right there and then.

Grimm was so focused on getting (Y/N)'s affection and attention that he forgot about the tests they were doing on the mirror.

Now I am too late...

"My goodness! Thank you! I missed my home so much! I'll start saying my goodbyes!" (Y/N) spoke rapidly, they truly were happy to hear the news.

Happy to leave me all alone!

"No worries, they all gather around the magic mirror, waiting for you." Birdman informed, "Are you coming now?"

"Yes!" (Y/N) said before turning to him, taking him in arms and carrying him outside.

That is not how it was supposed to go...

As they were walking outside before leaving the Ramshackle perimeter, Grimm jumped on the ground.

"What's wrong?" (Y/N) stopped to ask.

"What's wrong?!" Grimm couldn't contain it anymore. everything was too much.

"(Y/N), do you need a moment to say goodbye to the dorm?" Birdman questioned, getting closer to where they were standing.

"Uhm... yes... I mean I spent months here so I should say goodbye to it. You can go, we will catch up in a moment."

With that Birdman walked away, leaving (Y/N) and Grimm alone.

"Is there something you wanted to talk about?" They asked idiotically.

Are they too dumb to understand?

As Grimm was about to tell them what was on his mind, unfiltered, he felt a power within himself. A power that wanted to surge out of him and he let it since he had nothing to lose anymore.

"You will leave me all alone!"

"But you already knew that, Grimm. This place isn't my home and if I took you with me, you would be discovered and people would do experiments on you." Their voice was so soft as they tried to reason with him but none of them mattered.

"We are one student together, you can't leave until I graduate!" The power inside of him grew even more.

"Well, Crowley said he-"

"We fought the monsters together. We are a team, you called me your son!" He could feel that power getting closer

"I-" He wasn't going to let them speak anymore!

"So you see me as a family but you abandon me!" He felt the power leak outside and he didn't even care about it.

"GRIMM!" (Y/N) yelled, taking a few steps back. "I, I, I changed my mind, we will be together!"

"You want me to have no one again!" Grim screamed, not even noticing how his voice changed. "AAAAAHHH!"

Everything went black for a moment and the second he reopened his eyes, everything was different. He was no longer looking up to (Y/N); he now was looking down on them. They were so tiny.

"YOU CANNOT LEAVE!" Grimm screeched when he saw (Y/N) backing and running away. He jumped, landing right in front of them who fell on the ground from the shock and still trying to crawl away.

"G-Gr-Gr-Grim, i-i-it's me! We are friends, remember? I know you wouldn't hurt me because we are family, innit?"

"It is too late for everything but you are right. We are family..." Grimm said, his voice echoing, giving it more menacing feelings.

Grimm was no longer waiting for (Y/N) to understand that they couldn't leave him. He had no intention of waiting anymore. He leaned towards them slowly, biting their clothing and lifting them.

It was always (Y/N) who carried Grimm around relentlessly now it was Grimm's turn. Once he was sure that they wouldn't fall, he took off, running away from the Ramshackle, leaving NRC behind.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst grim #twisted wonderland grim #twst mc #twisted wonderland mc #mc/yuu #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland yandere #yandere twst #twst yandere #yandere #yandere grim

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slowpoke-fics · 3 years

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Hidden Hunter

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Summary: Crowley is your best friend, has been for years and taught you a lot of what you know. However, you aren't associated with the boys.

Warnings: mention of injury and stitches, slow burn, hint at death, I could be missing some, I am not perfect please read at your own risk

A/N: I loved this fic, I hope you guys do too! Oh! And a favor I ask of you. The more I write the more I worry about warnings. If you ever see anything I write not have a warning it should, please tell me.

You pulled into your motel, harshly parking your car and storming into your room. Muttering to yourself as you slid your shirt off, door barely slamming shut, "Stupid motherfuckers couldn't just listen. Couldn't just-" you let out a guttural scream, "I tried. I tried." You shook your head, unbuttoning your pants as you heard Crowley behind you, "Hello, Mouse." You slipped your pants off, turning to look at Crowley, not missing the way his eyes studied the curves of your body. "Hey, Crowley."

Crowley took in your ragged and bloody appearance. Dried blood scattered throughout your hair, on your arms, tiny nicks and cuts over your body with a nasty gash on your torso. Crowley's eyebrows raised and he spoke as you went into the bathroom turning on the shower, "I guess they didn't take the deal?" You poked your head out of the bathroom, glaring at him, "No, they didn't captain obvious." Crowley laughed, sitting on the bed as you took a quick shower.

You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to get the blood out without stretching too far so you didn't irritate the gash on your stomach. You stepped out of the shower, washing all of the grime off of you made you feel a little better. "I hate hunting," you muttered to Crowley as you walked out of the bathroom, hair draped over your neck and a towel wrapped tightly around you. "Would you please get me a pair of shorts, a tank top and a pair of underwear out of my bag?" Crowley smiled at you, already on his way to your bag, "Of course, love."

You stood there looking at Crowley as he ruffled through your bag. His suit clinging to all the right spots, curling around his biceps, tight around his thighs, unfortunately his ass covered by the length of his jacket, shoes nicely completing his look.

You'd met Crowley a few years back, when he was a lowly cross roads demon. You went to make a deal, planning to exchange your soul for the ability to track supernatural creatures so you could save them. Crowley took an interest in why you wanted to do such things. Realizing that you were a hunter that wanted to stop the deaths before they happen was important to you. Stop the needless death of humans and monsters alike.

You'd become close to him, allowing him to teach you the ways of the natural witch. After about a year you had learned enough that Crowley needed to come up with some other reason to stick around. So he started to offer his help with no strings attached as he took a liking to his little mouse. The hunter who only hunted those who hunt.

Crowley handed you the clothing, politely turning around before you dropped your towel. You slid your underwear on, groaning as you did so, causing Crowley too start to turn around. He stopped himself, asking permission first, "Let me help, yeah mouse?" You giggled, covering your boobs and huffing, "Yeah okay."

Crowley turned around, helping you step into the shorts and pulling them up, he handed you the towel to properly cover yourself on his way up. What a gentleman, you thought as he went over to your bag, digging out the emergency kit. "Lay, you need stitches," Crowley pointed to bed. You grumbled, he knew you didn't like stitches, "It's not even that bad, it's fine." Crowley glared at you, "Love, if you don't stitch that it's gonna take months to heal and likely get infected."

You laughed, laying down, "I could always just use a spell." Crowley shook his head, his playfulness with his best friend suddenly gone, "We've discussed that Y/n, it's not the kind of magic you want too mess around with." You put his hand on his arm, as he wet the rag he had with alcohol, in an attempt to comfort him, "I was just kidding, I know."

Crowley started cleaning the gash, making sure that you had gotten all the debris out. You hissed at him, you could see how curious he was, but you'd made a rule that he doesn't press hard unless it's bad. "So," you croaked out as he started stitching you, "what'd you do today?" Crowley smiled at you, secretly bashing you because if you'd just listen to him and find partners it wouldn't be like this.

"Well, I saw moose and squirrel-" You lifted your head, excited, "Sam and Dean?" He nodded, "Yes the royal pains in my ass. They were having trouble tracking some witch-" You giggled, "I could've helped them instead." Crowley tries to hide his genuine concern by joking, "Oh no doll, I don't think we'll be doing that." You furrowed your brows, "I still think we'd make a good team."

"Mouse, I don't ask for much," Crowley sighed, "if you want partners, I can find plenty of hunters that are not Winchesters." Crowley put gauze over your stitches, carefully pressing tape to hold them in place. You sat up, Crowley turning around to let you slip your tank top on, "Decent," he turned back around, "what is your problem? I never like other people enough to let them join me, but when I hear about someone you say no?"

Crowley sighed, "They're dangerous people, Y/n. I've told you I don't want you near them." You stared at him, "I just don't understand, you always tell me they're dangerous and I can't go near them but nothing else!" You stood up, starting to pace. "They're-huff-" Crowley looked away from you, closing his eyes tightly as they flashed with anger, "they'll do nothing but destroy you." With that Crowley was gone. You were used to your arguments ending like that, even your conversations. He would get called away and come back when he wasn't busy and that was fine, but you were going to look into the Winchesters while you had the chance.

You pulled out a map of the United States, channeling through your pendulum Crowley had hand made for you. You smiled, looking at the chain on one end a sharp pointed crystal rested, on the there a tiny little metal mouse, identifying it as yours, the only one on the planet like it. You took a deep breath, circling the crystal over the map focusing your energy on the image of the Winchester brothers. After a few minutes of scrying and finding nothing you decided to leave it for now, starting to pack up your things you began thinking about what was so bad about the Winchester brothers. Why did Crowley want you to stay away?

You didn't really know much about them aside from the little Crowley'd told you because you didn't really associate with other hunters. At the end of the day, you hated most of them. Hunters in general were crass, and you hated that. You are a ray of sunshine trying to preserve life and most hunters see something not human and kill it. That didn't sit right with you.

You thought about the things you did know about the brothers. They had been in this life their whole life. Had lost both parents, almost ended the world a couples times, saved it just as much if not more. Only really had each other, but Crowley had mentioned an angel on their shoulder-Castiel I believe? What did you even know about him?

"I don't believe I know you?" Your entire body went cold, turning as fast as you can to aim a gun in between his eyes. "That will do little damage to me," he spoke flatly. "I beg to differ, these here special made bullets to put your ass in back in hell, so tell me? What're you doing here?" The man is staring at you, confusion in his brows, arms by the edges of his trench coat, pants and shirt tidy, but not perfect, "I am Castiel, an angel of the lord. You called to me." Before you could even think of a response, Crowley was standing next to you. Eyes holding fear, not ager, he speaks lowly, a whisper under his breath.

"What have you done little mouse?"

You lowered your gun, not sure if it was because it wouldn't do damage or because you felt safe with Crowley there. "I didn't call to anybody," you stare at Castiel, eyes boring into his as he speaks. "I beg to differ, I felt you, heard you, you seem to also need dealings with the Winchesters?" He looked to Crowley who he'd just seen not hours ago, "I am slightly concerned with Crowley being here." Crowley scoffed, "I haven't tried anything on the musketeers in years, I've been nothing but a friend and Y/n here was too curious for her own good." He growled out the end looking directly towards you, causing a rush guilt for going behind Crowleys back.

"I didn't mean to take you away from the Winchesters-" "You did not. I am a man of many abilities, helping people is one of them. At least allow me to heal you." You backed away as he stepped forward, "I am not going to hurt you." Crowley put his hand on your arm, trying to reassure you, "Well do it then Feathers, but uh-" Castiel healed you, you felt warmth, pain dissolving from your body, "can we keep her to ourselves?" Your eyes raised at Crowley, appalled by his gumption to hide you.

"Excuse me?" You jerked away from Crowley, Castiel raising his eyebrows at you. "Is that what you would like Y/n?" You looked at Crowley, his face a mix of anger and concern. "Can we? I promise I won't bother you." Castiel smiles at you, secretly reading you, "You wouldn't be a bother but I understand. I am happy to have healed you." Castiel was gone, Crowley already starting to pick your bags up. "We're gone now mouse."

He grabbed you, whisking you away. You looked around, taking in the room you were standing in. It was clearly an apartment, a nicer than you'd ever known anyone to have. You looked around, a sleek kitchen area, the bathroom door opened from the living room, the couch took up most of the living room, a nice coffee table in front of it but pressed to the wall.

"Crowley where are we?" He was glaring at you, a sour look on his face, "A safe house, I hoped we'd never have to use it." You shook your head, "Okay, but where? What about my car?" He shuffled on his feet, "In a few days when I know Castiel didn't spill the beans about you I will take you back to it." Crowley chuckled a little, but not answering as he reached out your bags for you to take. You huffed, taking your bags from him, and then he disappeared.

You walked over to the refrigerator, to your surprise it was stocked. Demons don't need to eat, you thought to yourself, a little confused and trying to figure out where you were, you moved to the window. You looked out and you couldn't have been but three stories up, but no markers as to your city or state. The bathroom was also stocked shampoo, conditioner, soap, toilet paper, toothbrush and toothpaste?

Crowley reappeared, holding the rest of your things and your gun. You took it from him, anger over your features. "Crowley, are we in someone's apartment right now? You know how I feel about how you taking over peoples lives!" Crowley scoffed at you, "You know I respect you too much to violate your beliefs like that!" You rolled your eyes, tucking your gun behind your waistband, "Then who's apartment is this?"

Crowley made his was over to the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of liquor he conveniently knew where to find, "Technically yours. Like I said it's a safe house." You tapped the counter, letting him know you wanted a glass as you sat down, "Gonna have to do better than that." He poured your glass first, shrugging he started, "I pay for it, it's under a fake name, it's warded so you can't be found, do we need to get into logistics?" You downed your glass, picking up the bottle and filling up again, "You brought me here after I met Castiel, that's not exactly safe house worthy." Crowley shook his head, sipping on his own glass, "Yes it is cricket, yet it is." Your blood started to boil, you stood from your chair, seething with anger, you spit, "Crowley, if you don't stop acting like-"

"Like what? Like someone who wants to keep you alive?" You flinched at Crowleys words, waiting for him to continue, "Everyone that they're around dies, Y/n, dies. Hunter funeral, pile of ash, dies. Everyone but them; they will destroy you." You scoffed, "I'm pretty good at keeping myself alive thank you." He raises his eyebrows, smirking a bit, "Do you forget how we met mouse?" Your eyes connected with his, glaring, still seething with anger, "I was desperate not dead, there's a difference. Crowley, they can't be doing more damage than me hunting on my own. Maybe I could be a voice of reason-" Crowley slammed his glass down, grabbing the counter with both hands, "No! I don't know why you even want to know them!"

You studied Crowley, jealousy now seeping from him. Then it clicked. It clicked that you two were a bunch of shy kids. Bouncing around each other like you were fifteen for years now. Each thinking the other was uninterested, each thinking that you didn't deserve one another. Crowley rightfully so for a while, the things he did outside of you could be classified as horrendous, but your ray of sunshine had spread to him. Bringing out all of the good parts that once was Fergus Roderick MacLeod, reminding him of who he could be. You reminded him how to love, how to hold someone higher than yourself. Reminded him of what it's like to protect someone other than yourself, to need to.

"Crowley," you walked around the table and placed your hand on his, "please just tell me what's going on." Crowley didn't hesitate, he turned to you pressing his lips into yours. It took you a second to realize what was happening, and then you melted. You moved your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss, his stubble tickling you. Crowley tangled his fingers in your hair, taking a deep breath as he readjusted to meet your lips, tongue skirting your bottom lip before nibbling on it. You gasped at the action, the sound taking Crowley by surprise as he continued to glide across your lips, not missing the warm blush on your face.

Crowley was first to pull away, sliding his hand out of your hair and tucking it behind your ear, resting his hand there, he whispered, "I can't lose you." You planted a chaste kiss on his lips, smiling at him reassuringly, "You won't." He softened a little bit, sighing heavily before returning his lips to yours. Soft and gentle, savoring the moment as he tugged you closer to him with his arm around your waist. You pulled just an inch away, Crowleys eyes opening and making contact with yours, "Does this mean I get to meet the Winchesters?" Crowley growled at you, quickly lifting you by your thighs causing your to wrap your legs around him, "Absolutely not."

#supernatural fluff #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #spn flangst #spn fluff #spn angst #spn fanfiction #crowley x reader #crowley x y/n #crowley fluff #crowley angst #crowley fanfiction #Crowley imagine #crowley fic #Crowley one shot #crowley Drabble

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britishassistant · 3 years

Note

Imagine a seperate Villian, upon seeing what Villian Yuu has to deal with, decided to publicly use some sort of concoction to make Yuu essentially Overblot and have them attack the civilians constantly harassing them to try and help them? Like they legitimately are trying to help, but their way of doing so is very very warped.

Oh. Oh.

Warning for Dark, Character Death and Body Horror under the cut

Seriously, if you don’t want that. Do. Not. Read.

“Beautiful.”

Yuu can barely hold in their screams, the place where they were injected throbbing, throbbing, throbbing—!

They can’t feel their legs. They can’t feel their legs, they can’t feel their legs, they can’t feel their legs, they can’t feel their legs, they can’t feel their legs, they can’t feel their legs they can’t feel their legs they can’t feel their legs they can’t feel their legs they can’t feel their legs they can’t feel their legs they can’t feel their legs they can’t feel their legs they can’t feel their legs they can’t feel their legs—

“Truly, truly, you are the most beautiful, most noble flower of evil.” The villain enthuses, staring down in awed delight as the exposed bone of their thigh gradually dissolves into black sludge.

“The others...the others, they taint this transformation with their own imperfect quibbles, too caught up in their own petty squabbles to appreciate the gift they’ve been given, turning it into a mockery of ridiculous outfits and issues.” The one who did this too them scoffs. “But you? You’re so pure in your hatred and anguish. It’s beautiful. Truly, truly beautiful.”

Yuu tries to drag themself away from her, hardly able to breathe through their sobs. It hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts, hurtS, hurts, huRts, hUrts, huRTs, hURts, huRTS, hURTS, HURTS, HURTS, HURTS HURTS HURTS HURTS HURTS

They can hear things screaming their name—no, no, not things, never things, it’s-it’s people, it’s their friends, it’s Ace, and Deuce, and Grim and Yuuken, and Epelle and Jake and Se-Se-S-S-S—

The blot has devoured everything below their ribcage.

The thing that caused them this pain is laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing—!

Splorch.

No more laughter. That’s better. No more. No more. No more. No more. No more no more no more no more no more no more no more no more no more no more no more no more no more ENOUGH!! NO MORE!! IT HURTS!!!

Every day, every day, growing up with the fear, the agony, never being able to trust, never being trusted, protected, shielded, guarded, from risks dangers enemies manipulators heroes murderers suitors lovers friends family love life happiness, and for what?! A birthright they never asked for and can never give up, a fate they can’t run from even if they want to?!

They’re the villain.

They don’t win.

They don’t get saved.

They don’t get the guy.

Their fate is to be taken, and taken, and taken from until they’re left hollow and useless, like an upended inkwell. An inkwell is only valuable so long as it has ink it it, dipping pens and brushes in again and again and again until it’s drained dry. Another piece of trash to be discarded.

The blot is dissolving their clavicle. It’s not sure its host has the neurons left to feel pain anymore.

The things are screaming louder. The things are important. The blot is not sure how it knows this, but it knows. They are important. They are important. They are not to be touched. Even if the blot wants to, even if it can feel their anguish, their power and hate, yearns to draw on it, feed off of it, until they’re wrung dry like the trash that’s almost been consumed.

They are not to be touched.

The thing that used to be Yuu Crowley moves it’s mouth for the last time.

“Please.” It whispers. “RUN.”

Neige is crying.

Yuu-chan’s pain is obvious from here. Even if what’s left can’t even be called “Yuu-chan” anymore.

It’s a mass of inky black substance, almost sack-like in appearance, curled up on the outskirts of the city. It keeps moaning, reaching out compulsively and then attacking itself, as if it somehow recognizes the waste its presence is bringing to the land around it.

The others who were afflicted like this could at least be saved. They at least had enough superpowers, no matter how latent, that there was time to wear them out and disperse this thing before they were fully consumed.

Yuu-chan doesn’t have any powers. Yuu-chan has nothing left of themself at all.

Nothing but fear and hate and resentment and all of it directed at themself.

“-eige. White Neige!”

“H-huh?” He looks over at Farena-senpai, blinking excess tears from his eyes.

“It hurts. I know it does.” Farena-senpai looks like he’s barely unable to keep the tears from his eyes either. “But we need to stop this. That isn’t the Supervisor anymore. They’d hate it if they hurt anyone like this, you know that. We’ve got to stop that thing. For them.”

Neige heaves in a shuddering breath, swiping the tears from his face. Farena-senpai’s right. He always is.

“Y-Yuu-chan. I’m so sorry.” He chokes out, brandishing his magical scepter. “B-but don’t worry! It-it won’t hurt anymore. I promise it won’t.”

He lifts the scepter, chanting the incantation he’s said time and time again before. It glows with a purifying light, cleansing the land around it of the taint and corruption oozing off the former supervillain.

The inky thing shrieks. It sounds like a frightened child.

Farena-senpai steadies his resolve, pinning it down before it can run. Neige wishes it would stop screaming. It’s making his ears and heart ache.

The Champion takes his place over it once it’s reduced in size enough. The Vorpal Blade in his hand looks like a heavy weight.

One two, one two, and through and through.

The Vorpal Blade goes snicker-snack.

The heroes leave the Blot dead. Not even able to collect it’s head. They go trudging back.

From: Ambrose the 63rd ([email protected])

Re: Dire Crowley ([email protected])

Subject: Re: Burial Services

Dear Crowley,

It is my deepest regret to inform you that there was nothing left of your homunculus that our heroes were able to retrieve upon defeating the threat. Due to the nature of the attack the homunculus suffered, it is hypothesized by Dr. Milo that it had been consumed in its entirety within two minutes of injection of the drug Tache Plus. The testimonies of the unfortunate young men who bore witness to this event support this hypothesis entirely.

Yuu was an admirable villain and heir to your legacy, for all that it was artificial, and one who had the potential to carry on the Game admirably in your shoes. I know I do not speak just for myself when I say its absence will be sorely felt among many of the heroes here at the Royal Sword Association.

My deepest condolences once again for your loss.

Regards,

Ambrose the 63rd (CEO of Royal Sword Association ltd.)

Bad End 1: An Overblot by Any Other Name...

Insert Coin to Play Again?

179 notes · View notes

katelyn--renee · 4 years

Text

Composure

Title: Composure

Fandom: Supernatural

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader/(Y/N) Winchester (mentioned), Harper Winchester (OC, mentioned), Daniel Winchester (OC, mentioned), Crowley (mentioned)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Wife!Reader

Words: ±2670

Description: Dean and (Y/N) take their shot at a normal life and settle down. Over the years, they have a few kids. Things are good. Until they’re not. What will Dean do when his past comes back to put an end to his happily ever after?

Written For: @deanwanddamons 2K Celebration! Congratulations babe! That’s awesome! My prompt will be in bold - “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.”

Warnings: ANGST! Descriptions of blood. Mentions of breaking and entering. Kidnaping. Show level violence/outbursts of anger.

Author’s Note: This is in correlation with another fic of mine, Sweet Cherry Pie. It takes place about twelve to thirteen years after that one, to give you a brief timeline. There will be other fics with that original storyline, so stay tuned.

Thank you so much to @wonder-cole for being my beta for this wonderful piece and helping me with the title. You’re awesome and much appreciated! She has some amazing work of her own, so please do yourself a favor and check it out! Check out @talesmaniac89 for more awesome page dividers!!

Disclaimer: I do not own any photos or gifs, all rights go to original creators/owners.

Interested in more of my work, check out the link below.

Masterlist

The rain was heavy tonight, thick and angry as it poured from the dark clouds above. The fat raindrops were noisy against the single paned windows. The water coated the glass surface and made it impossible to see through, even as the flashes of lightning lit up the night sky and cast long shadows through the living room of 35 Maplewood Road. There was a heaviness surrounding the house, as if something wicked had been there.

The home was dark and empty, and the furniture was overturned and broken in places; the sofa was thrown over backwards, the cushions laying discarded across the floor with the end table toppled over beside it. The lamp that had occupied its surface was shattered to pieces on the wooden floor, and the rug had been stained with something dark and red.

The coffee table was shoved out of place, the glass surface no longer there in one piece and the mirror that hung in the hallway had a spider web like crack across the surface, hanging now only by one screw. In the very center of the crack, something crimson and shiny caught the lighting from outside, almost as if someone’s skull had been smashed there.

The familiar idling of Baby’s engine grew louder as Dean pulled in the driveway of his home, the brakes squealing as he came to a stop and put the Chevy into park. A feeling of dread began to knot into his stomach, making the muscles of his jaw flex as he tried to bite back the feeling. Something was wrong; all those years of hunting and honing his instincts told him that much. Not a single light was on inside of the home and yet, (Y/N)’s car was parked out front. Not good.

Dean fished his phone from his jacket and swiftly unlocked the screen with a swipe of his thumb across the glass, dialing the number he knew so well. Pressing the receiver to his ear, he waited while the call rang out once... twice… “Come on, (Y/N/N).” He muttered under his breath as the fifth tone sounded. Her voice greeted his ear, but it was artificial; the recording of her voicemail, Hi, you’ve reached (Y/N)...

“Damn it.” He cursed between gritted teeth and ended the call. He tried again, pressing redial. “Come on, baby, answer your damn phone!” He shut his eyes when he got the same results as before, cursing to himself as he shoved the device back into his pocket.

Never taking his eyes off the front of the house, he leaned over for the glove box and swiftly unlatched the compartment door, just as he’d done a million times before. Green eyes continued to scan for any signs of movement, even through the thick wall of rain that coated the windshield, despite the efforts of the wiper blades.

Reaching a steady hand inside, he pulled out a pocket sized flashlight and his beloved stainless steel Colt, the engraving on the barrel catching the lightning as it bolted across the sky. Expertly, he removed the clip with a press of his thumb and double checked the bullets inside before sliding it back into the place, securing it with another click. It’d been years since he’d held the weapon, but the pearl coated handle felt just as natural as breathing against his palm.

Leaving the Impala’s engine running, Dean climbed out from behind the wheel and shut the door, the hinges creaking with age. Clicking on the flashlight, he approached the home with long, yet cautious strides, his booted feet silent in his approach, even through the heavy rain.

His mind was racing with every terrible possibility, his guilt threatening to eat him alive as images of his family, in the worst possible outcome, flashed before his eyes. It made his blood run cold. His heart was pounding rapidly with fear, pushing the adrenaline through his veins and forcing him to move forward rather than let the panic overwhelm him.

He tried to peer inside the living room through the set of windows lining the front of the house, but it did little to ease his uncertainty; if anything, it only made it worse, only able to make out long shadows and dark shapes. His clothes were completely soaked through, hugging his large frame by the time he’d reached the front porch, the coolness of the rain chilling him to the bone. Droplets of water dripped down his face and the tip of his nose, and his hair clung against his forehead.

Approaching the large red door, his scowl only deepened, darkening his features when he discovered that it had been left unlatched, allowing in a single beam of light with each flash from the storm overhead. He glared at the lock and then narrowed his eyes as something caught his attention, the muscles there twitching. Stretching a hand out, he examined the wooden surface, his fingertips grazing over the chipped paint and splintered wood. Someone had broken in.

Taking only a moment to compose himself, Dean exhaled slowly and swallowed back his apprehension, forcing himself to go on. Using the weight of his body, he nudged the door open cautiously and poked his head inside. The experienced hunter kept his gun aimed high and at the ready, his finger hovering over the trigger. Wrist over wrist, Dean held the flashlight steady with the opposite hand, the beam unmoving, providing him with some light through the darkness.

All of those years of training were put to the test as he stepped through the threshold of his home, his expression as hard as stone and giving away absolutely nothing, despite the fear that was boiling just beneath the surface. His eyes darted around the room, following the beam of his flashlight, taking in every detail of his surroundings just as he’d been taught all those years ago.

Following the layout of the house, Dean came to the living room first, stepping over the broken furniture and discarded decorations. The sight of his home in this state made him uneasy and that much harder to keep his cool, able to sense the panic starting to creep in. Where was (Y/N)? Where were the kids? Who had done this to his family? Was it revenge?

Another flash of lightning caused something slick and shiny to catch his eye, and Dean let out a shaky breath. Hesitating for only a moment, he crossed the room and crouched down next to the sofa to investigate, the troubling sight seized his heart. There was a substantial amount of blood there, a large pool of crimson that had soaked into the fibers of the rug.

Near the top of the stain, a gold chain necklace was lost within the mess and a thin layer of another substance was scattered around it. It was almost yellow in color and had a very distinct, very specific scent that accompanied it. Touching the surface of the floor next to the stain, Dean felt something grainy under his finger tips. Lifting it to his nose, the smell of sulfur invaded his senses. Demons.

“Fuck,” He cursed, the boom of the thunder shaking his house as it lit up his face simultaneously. Still crouched, he plucked the necklace out of the sticky crimson mess and glared at the amulet with a heavy gaze, his hand shaking. He shut his eyes and closed his fingers into a fist, the knuckles turning white around the piece of jewelry. It belonged to (Y/N). It had been a gift, a charm to ward off evil and prevent possession.

This was all his fault. He should have known better. Hell, he did know better and yet, he ignored it, because he had a chance to finally be happy. To have an actual family and live the normal, apple pie life he’d always wanted. And now the ones he loved were missing and more than likely dead. Or probably close to it.

His chin quivered for a moment and hot tears stung at the corners of his eyes, his emotions getting the better of him. How could he let this happen? How could he be so stupid and reckless? He knew better, damn it! Once a hunter, always a hunter. There is no getting out of the life, not entirely, because those evil sons-of-bitches will always be out there.

One way or another, they always find a way to catch back up to any hunter who has tried, and every single time it ends bloody and messy and violent. He needed to find them, he just had to. And he would save them, no matter what it cost. He’d pay it.

Releasing a heavy breath, he opened his eyes and willed the tears away, shoving the emotions back down into the pit of his soul. Despite his efforts, a solitary tear made it’s escape, dripping down his left cheek and onto the color of his shirt before he could stop it.

Dean rose to his full height and squared his shoulders, prepared to continue his search. Sliding the necklace into his jacket pocket with care, he followed the trail into the hall with a heavy heart.

Glass cracked and snapped under his boots as he walked through the space, his jaw flexing when he saw the picture of his family shattered on the floor. Their happy faces only added to his grieving heart and guilty conscious, their smiles making his soul ache.

That had been a good day, nearly five years ago now; (Y/N) had worn his favorite blue dress that day, the strapless one that stopped right above her knees and showed off her sexy legs.

She had on that silly - but achingly cute - oversized tan hat that kept the sun from her eyes. He would always tease her about that goofy hat, but she never cared what others thought of her, never ceasing to be herself, no matter what.

They’d gone to the park that day, had an actual picnic and he’d played catch with his son while the girls giggled and painted their nails... They even taught the twins how to ride their bikes that day. They couldn’t have been more than seven years old.

Harper had caught on much quicker than her brother, of course, taking after her mother in that way. Those girls were naturals at almost everything they did, only needing to try something a few times before perfecting it. That had been something he’d adored and admired about his wife and it was a huge part of what made her such a skilled hunter when they met.

Daniel, on the other hand, had to take the time to understand how something worked first. He needed to study the mechanics of things, take them apart, rebuild and understand it completely, inside and out, before he was able to master it. Danny often reminded Dean of the Winchester side of the family. That had been a good day, one of many they’d shared together.

Brought out of his memories by another angry boom from outside, Dean pressed on. Where the picture had once hung, there was a bloody handprint smeared on the white wall, the two colors contrasting greatly.

The blood streaked out toward the kitchen, giving the hunter a clear path to follow. Damn it. Dean grit his teeth. It felt as if something had his heart in a vice, squeezing it tighter and making it increasingly difficult to breathe the further he went.

His emotions were threatening to break through the surface again, fighting hard against his resolve, but he held his ground against them, purely focused on finding his loved ones. Now was not the time to break down. Following the trail of blood and debris, he checked each room along the way, trying to be as thorough as possible. He couldn’t afford to miss a damn thing.

Their bedrooms were empty, and unsurprisingly, every inch had been torn apart. Dean’s chest heaved with emotion, his breath hitching in his throat; if anything happened to those kids, he would never be able to forgive himself.

Continuing on, the hunter emerged into the next room, and found much of the same; broken furniture, shattered pictures and even more blood. But not a single sign of his family. The sliding glass door had been left open, allowing the rain from the storm to collect onto the tile floor.

Dean shut his eyes and took several deep breaths, his chest aching with every forceful beat of his heart. He needed to call Sammy, needed to form a plan. When he opened his eyes, something on the countertop caught his eye; a sheet of paper. Cocking his head with curiosity, he crossed the room in three long, determined strides.

It was a note, addressed to him.

It’s been too long, darling. How’s Moose? Hope the wife and kids are well...oh, wait, that’s right, you’re as clueless as ever. No surprise there. Before we get to the fun bits, let’s talk business; I need a favor and you and your giant of a brother are going to help me. Now, to ensure that things go as planned, I have something of yours. I assure you, they are safe. For now. Do as I ask, and they will be returned to you, alive. So, Dean, dear, let’s make a deal, shall we? You know where to meet me.

Squirrel,

Yours truly,

The King of Hell

“Crowley.” Dean growled deep in his chest, his teeth clenched as his blood began to boil over with rage. “Goddamn it!” He shouted, swiping the contents of the counter onto the floor. “Fuck!” He kicked something across the room, too angry to pay much attention to it as it slammed into the stainless steel refrigerator. He swung at the closest surface, his fist connecting with a nearby wall.

The drywall collapsed around his fist as the plaster fell to the floor at his feet. His knuckles were screaming at him, but he didn’t care, too fueled by his rage to notice. What could Crowley possibly need their help with? It didn’t matter. Whatever it was, they would get it done and save his family. Crowley would get what’s coming to him; Dean would make damn sure of that.

Taking a few calming breaths, Dean removed his phone with a bloodied hand and opened his contacts, scrolling through the names until he found what he was searching for. Sammy. Dialing the number, Dean held the phone to his ear with baited breath. After the third ring, Sam’s voice came in through the other end, sounding concerned because of the late hour, “Dean? Everything alright?”

Dean shook his head, his vision blurring with tears. He cleared his throat, trying to prevent it from shaking too much. “No, Sammy. It ain’t alright.” He admitted, gripping the counter with his free hand, bracing himself. He wanted to crumble onto the floor, his body trembling; his mind flooded with so many different emotions, each of them trying to overpower the other: fear, guilt, anger, heartache…

“Dean, what is it?” The younger Winchester questioned, the worry evident in his voice. “Is it (Y/N)? The kids? Is everyone okay?” He waited patiently on the other end, but Dean could hear him moving around; he assumed his brother was getting his things ready to head out.

“Damn it, Sammy,” Dean’s voice broke as a few tears slipped through the cracks, “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.” He shook his head, allowing himself a moment to break, his chest heaving. “We were out!” He slammed his fist down onto the counter, terrified and angry.

“Dean, what’s going on?” Sam pleaded, wanting desperately to help his big brother.

“Crowley.” Dean clarified, going into more detail as he composed himself and straightened his stance, “Crowley’s taken them.” He took a calming breath, his moment of weakness over. “I need your help, Sammy.”

“Already on my way.”

Annnnnnd there you have it. I hope that wasn’t too rough on the heart? No worries, there may or may not be a part two in the works? We shall see. ;)

Anyway, if you enjoyed that, please like and comment and if you’re feeling a little extra generous, share it with your friends, too! You’re feedback is like GOLD! As always, thanks for reading!

Taglist!

Supernatural

@akshi8278 // @flamencodiva // @perpetualabsurdity

#deanwanddamons2kcelebration #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester angst #dean angst #dean #dean winchester #dean x reader #spn #supernatural fic #spn fic #dean winchester fic #dean fic #angst #kidnapping

136 notes · View notes

dothwrites · 4 years

Text

spn15 spec, destiel, post 15.18, mcd?? sort of???

---

And when your sorrow is comforted (time soothes all sorrows) you will be content that you have known me. You will always be my friend.--Antoine de-Saint Exupery, The Little Prince

---

Castiel opens his eyes in nothingness.

It’s not dark, though the air which presses around him is thick onyx. There is neither gravity nor weightlessness here. Castiel exists but he does so in a void so barren that he doubts his own mind. He opens his mouth to call out, but no sound escapes.

Castiel exists in ignorance for one, glorious moment. Then the weight of memory crushes into him. His chest buckles underneath the pressure. He tries to scream, but the vast emptiness swallows the sound.

---

“Cas, we can fight this!”

Dean, his Righteous Man, Dean, the shining beacon, his friend...The first real friend he’d ever made. Dean is ready to fight. Dean would fight God, has indeed fought God. But he can’t fight this.

The door shudders in its frame. Blow after blow rains down on the weakening wood. Already, the wood is splintering under the assault. The thin strip of light at the bottom of the door disappears underneath a sea of writhing black. The Empty is here. It wants what it was promised.

“Dean,” he says. He intends to say much more--It’s too late, let me go, thank you--but his voice cracks on the single syllable of Dean’s name.

He wants to stay. God help him, but he wants to stay.

“No, dammit Cas! You don’t get to give up! We can fight this thing, we can keep running, we can...” Dean’s voice trails off into nothing as he looks wildly around the small room.

Though he might protest, Castiel knows that Dean is a man bailing out a sinking ship. In his heart, Dean knows the battle is already lost. But he’s still defiant, still clinging to the faintest shred of hope.

Castiel loves him for that.

“You fought for the whole world.” Castiel’s voice is weak and pale against the ear-shattering thunder of the Empty’s attempts to break into the room.

“Cas, no--”

“But you can’t fight for me.”

The words shatter something vital in him. Castiel gasps as the agony shreds through him. He thought there would be more time. He thought that happiness was an ideal that no one could ever reach. He thought there would be time, he doesn’t want to go, he wants to stay--

“Cas, I can’t...Not again, I can’t lose you again, please don’t go--”

Black seeps into the room, slender tendrils snaking across the room towards where they stand. Castiel feels every second ticking away. He’s lived for millennia, seen worlds and empires rise and fall, felt the passing of centuries like nothing more than a passing breeze. Millions of years, and now, when it means everything, he has no time.

Castiel cups Dean’s cheek with one shaking hand. If this is it, then he doesn’t want to leave with any regrets. “Dean,” he croaks. That word has become his compass, his prayer, the star to which he hitched his wagon.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t want to leave you. If I had a choice, i would stay. I would stay with you through every sunrise and sunset, through every moment, the mundane and extraordinary alike.” Castiel’s voice catches in his throat as the door finally shatters and darkness pours into the room.

“You’ve taught me everything, Dean, and I...I’m so grateful that I got to know you. Without you...”

Castiel can’t continue. He’s immeasurably grateful for all he’s experienced with Dean, but he’s always been greedy. He wants more. He wants to see Dean’s hair continue to silver until it’s soft and grey. He wants to go fishing with Dean and discover the peace inherent in the activity. He wants to watch Jack grow into his own and Sam start a family. He wants, with a fierceness that takes his breath away.

Darkness curls around his ankle and winds its way up his calf.

Dean shakes his head. Tears well in his eyes but refuse to spill over, though his lower lip shakes. “Please,” he asks, tilting his head into Castiel’s palm. “I can’t...how am I supposed to do this without you?”

Castiel starts to respond, but his voice is cut off by the swift, hard press of Dean’s lips into his. His heart jolts and gutters in his chest before it picks up again, beating so hard he thinks it might escape through the confines of his ribs.

“I love you.”

The words tumble out of Castiel’s mouth, the same as they did years ago when he was rotting from in the inside out. The same frantic need consumes him now as it did then, when every beat of his heart dragged him closer to the edge of oblivion, when seconds were more precious than gold, when he was so close to losing everything--

Dean sobs. He clutches the lapels of Castiel’s coat and kisses him, teeth bruising behind his lips.

Castiel’s whole lower body is engulfed in darkness so complete that it feels as though it’s ceased to exist. His whimper is lost in Dean’s mouth.

“No,” Dean gasps, pulling away. Castiel already knows the cause of Dean’s denial. He can feel it, creeping up his chest and shoulders, slithering down to his arms. He remembers how it was to be devoured, remembers the noxious black ooze of the Leviathan crawling through him, but this is worse, is so much worse, because now he knows what Dean’s lips taste like, now he knows everything he has to lose--

“Cas, I love you,” Dean tells him, though his words echo strangely. The Empty crawls up his throat. Castiel chokes on it, but he doesn’t dare to blink. He can’t lose a second of this, of Dean’s face, horrified and tear-stricken though it is.

Seconds tick away like centuries, Dean’s face in front of him. Castiel can’t hear what he’s saying, but he can see the words shaped on his lips.

I’ll find you, I promise, I’m coming for you, Cas, Cas, I love--

And then.

Empty.

---

With the image of Dean’s face in his mind, Castiel screams.

There is no sound in the Empty, but he screams anyway. His agony and loss pour out of him, his grief and fear. Everything that he’s lost, Dean--

Castiel screams until his voice cracks and breaks, until his throat is shredded and raw, until he tastes blood in the back of his throat.

Hollow, he slumps to the side, curling into himself. His one consolation was that he would at least be asleep for the rest of eternity. He wouldn’t have to live with the weight of everything he’d lost. Now, even that slender comfort has been ripped from him. For the rest of time, he’ll have to exist with the memory of Dean’s glassy eyes, with the sound of Dean’s choked voice echoing through his skull, with the phantom ache of Dean’s lips against his. Castiel shudders, sobs ripping out of his throat.

“Jesus. So much for helping.”

Castiel blinks. The sound of another voice is foreign in this void where nothing should exist. He rolls over, looking up at the sardonic face staring down at him.

“Ruby,” he rasps, then remembers himself.

That’s not Ruby.

“Go away,” he mutters. He wraps his arms around his legs, pressing his forehead to his knees. There’s no point in having pride here, not when time is meaningless and every second is a torture. The Empty already knows his secrets, though why it chose Ruby’s form to torment him is a mystery.

“Look feathers, you were the one who screwed the pooch on this whole ‘fixing eternity’ thing. So I think I’m going to stick around for a bit.”

“There’s no point,” Castiel says miserably. “You got what you wanted. I’m here. I’m suffering. What more could you possibly want from me?”

“Were you dropped on your halo? I told you what I wanted the last time you were here. I want out, you moron. I told you to find a way out, and you wound up here, which is kind of the opposite of what I asked.”

Castiel blinks slowly, lifting his forehead from his knees. “Ruby?” he asks.

Ruby rolls her eyes and sighs for dramatic effect. “Yeah, dumbo. You know, I’ve only been trying to tell you that since the beginning.”

“I can’t trust that.” Castiel remembers all too well the last time he was here, the jolt of pleasure at seeing Meg once more only to realize that the Empty was aping her appearance to hurt him. “The Empty, it takes on your visage, your memories--”

“Yeah, you’re just going to have to trust me on this.” Ruby’s eyes flash black. “You know, as much as you can.”

“I’d pay attention to her, Clarence. If you don’t, then she’ll probably kick your ass.”

Castiel knows that voice. He whirls around. Meg’s face greets him, a tiny smirk twisting her lips upward. “Meg,” he whispers, an odd combination of grief and happiness twisting in his chest.

“The one and only,” she assures him.

A small shred of doubt clings at the back of Castiel’s mind, but he has to trust in something right now. Even if it’s two dead demons.

“Castiel. So lovely to see you again. Though I can’t say that I agree with the company you’re keeping these days.”

Make that three dead demons.

“Crowley,” Castiel breathes.

The demon looks exactly the same as he did the day he died. His suit is pristine, down to the pocket square. He looks at Meg and Ruby with disdain before he turns that expression on Castiel. “I suppose you’re doing your biannual visit to this dump? Feel like taking any passengers out with you when you make your escape this time?”

“I’m not...I made a deal,” Castiel whispers. He made a deal to save his son and he’ll never regret that, not for a second, but then he thinks of Dean’s face. “I’m not leaving.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so negative, Cassie. You do have a way of wriggling out of the tightest of places.”

Mingled guilt and joy sear through Castiel as he turns around. Balthazar’s familiar face looks at him. Balthazar raises an eyebrow. “No hug?” he asks.

“I don’t understand,” Castiel breathes. Surrounded by ghosts from his past, he feels weak. “None of you should be awake. That’s the whole point of this place. All of us, asleep, forever.”

“That’s the way it should be, but you have a habit of wrecking the natural order.” Castiel winces at Anna’s cool voice. Though there’s no real judgement in her voice, there’s also no real warmth. “It’s been changing here, ever since your last visit.”

“I woke it up.”

“And because you woke it up, we all started to awake as well.” Hannah’s calm voice joins their small group, though it’s growing steadily larger. “All of us, demons and angels, started awaking. At first, it was just for moments, but lately, it’s been distracted. More of us have been able to stay awake for longer. Eventually we started finding each other.”

“That’s my boy,” Meg says, unmistakable fondness in her voice. “Shaking up the natural order, wrecking the whole of the afterlife.”

Castiel’s eyes dart between all of them, former enemies, allies, and friends. “Is this all of you?”

“Were you not listening? Did they not just tell you that we’ve all been waking up, at least a little bit?”

Gabriel pops into existence next to Castiel. Despite himself, Castiel jerks back in surprise.

“So, what’s it going to be, Cas? Are you going to just pop out of here like always?” Crowley brings Castiel’s brain back to the present.

When he made his deal, he made it with full awareness that there was no coming back. He accepted that burden because he knew it was the only way he could save Jack.

But that was before he felt Dean’s lips against his, before he heard the words fall from Dean’s mouth. I love you.

When he made the deal, he had never heard those words directed at him. When he made the deal, he had nothing to fight for.

Now he does.

He made a choice long ago. You don’t have to be ruled by Fate. You can choose freedom.

Castiel looks at all of them, demons and angels alike, and makes a choice.

“We’ve got work to do.”

311 notes · View notes

lady-divine-writes · 4 years

Text

Good Omens one-shot “At the End” (Rated PG)

Summary: When the angels and demons finally succeed in having their war, there's only one thing that Aziraphale and Crowley can do with the time Earth has left...

Say goodbye to their home. (1408 words)

Notes: I wrote this hoping I would be accepted into a zine that ended up being canceled. The theme was basically what happens after Armageddon.

Read on AO3.

"Wot do you think you'll miss most about Earth?"

"Really, my dear?" Aziraphale clicks his tongue in disgust, but he can't bring himself to look away from the chaos ensuing below them to berate his companion properly. "What a question to ask at a time like this!"

"I think this is the perfect time to ask that question," Crowley says, but without his teasing edge. He offers it sympathetically. They both have a similar connection to this planet, had an investment in it thriving, but Crowley feels Aziraphale's heart breaking more than his. "When you lose something, you mourn it."

"It's not entirely lost! N-not yet." Aziraphale chokes around the words. Even though they leave his mouth passionately, he knows he has sinned by saying them.

Not lost yet may be the biggest lie he's ever told.

The first few hours had been soul-crushing.

The moment Holy rays broke through the clouds and shone down from above, ethereal voices announcing the arrival of God's angelic army, a flock of the faithful came out in droves to greet them. They prayed, sang joyously, raised their voices to the Heavens, invoked every one of God's Holy monickers. It should have been a huge stroke to Her ego... if She had been paying attention.

From Aziraphale and Crowley's perch atop St. Paul's Cathedral, that doesn't appear to be the case.

Those God-fearing mortals were the first to get trodden underfoot as angels barreled over them to confront their enemy - an extremely vulgar and unnecessary display when one considers that angelic footsoldiers can fly.

Hordes of evil-doers emerged from hiding as well, in lesser, but equally exuberant, numbers. They seemed suspiciously more eager for the fight, proving that those who call themselves 'Christian' might outnumber worshippers of Lucifer, but demons had their zealots better prepared for what the end of times would actually entail.

Either way, it didn't matter.

Those humans willing to spill blood at the drop of a hat, even their own, were used as cannon fodder against a foe they couldn't possibly hope to defeat. Within seconds, thousands lay dead on the streets of London and, Aziraphale suspected, all over the world.

For their part, Aziraphale and Crowley refused to join the battle, but no one paid them a lick of attention. An angel cavorting with a demon was no longer an issue. They could finally do as they pleased without fear of retribution, albeit on a planet whose hours were numbered.

"I would have to say I'm going to miss my car," Crowley continues, provoking conversation in an effort to allay his angel's anxiety. "And my flat. And alcohol. Hell's bells am I going to miss alcohol."

"Pity we don't have some now. I think a hull full would find itself useful," Aziraphale adds in a weak attempt at humor.

"Wot about you? Will you miss the food? Your bookshop?"

Aziraphale sighs. "Humanity."

Crowley raises a brow. "Humanity?"

"Yes. Without humanity, the rest of it wouldn't have been possible." Aziraphale scans the carnage below, trying not to focus for too long on any one thing... or any one person. He's already seen too many faces he recognizes, twisted from agony. "Without humanity, it wouldn't have meant anything."

"I suppose."

A tortured voice rings out, but it's snuffed out quickly. Aziraphale doesn't know which side does it, but he shakes his head in shame all the same. “I thought She’d show them mercy. I thought that, in the end, She’d come through. Spare them. That She wouldn't allow them to suffer as bystanders in all of this.”

“I hate to be the one to say I told you so, but… ”

“Then don’t, my dear.” Aziraphale reaches out and takes Crowley's hand, pleading wordlessly for him to stop, but also needing him for comfort. “Where is She? Where has She gone? Why has She abandoned them?”

"You've been asking that question for generations. I would think, by now, you'd know the answer."

"But I don't. Perhaps I should... " Aziraphale swallows heavily, his attention pulled to the skies by a streak of gold, then one of violet, passing overhead. "They know," he spits bitterly. Crowley follows his angel's gaze to the trails above them, one which he assumes must be Gabriel's. "She's obviously told them."

"Perhaps not," Crowley says, not in an attempt to defend Her, but to soothe his angel. "Just like last time, they're doing wot they think is right. Following wot they believe."

"And what do they believe? I don't know! They've never told me!"

"You'd think you'd all be on the same page. I mean, there's a book about it and all."

Aziraphale scoffs at that. "I think you and I both know that the archangels, Gabriel in particular, have never held any stock in books. Books are primitive, human things. They have nothing to do with angels. Not even the Bible... " A host more gold streaks zip by, and Aziraphale's words trail off into nothingness. Of all the books in Aziraphale's collection, his Bibles have always been his favorites. And not just the misprinted ones. The words inside gave him comfort, especially during those long stretches when he didn't hear from God at all. Though written by man, they were imparted by Her (if he overlooked the dodgy editing).

But they're gone. Not a single one remains, not even in the church where they stand, its insides crackling, burning beneath their feet.

Earth had become Aziraphale's Eden. Now, so many things he held dear are disappearing before his eyes.

Crowley squeezes the hand holding his. "Come, my love. It’s time to leave the garden.”

Aziraphale's eyes snap his way. They linger on his face for a moment, then drop to their clasped hands. “6000 years on this planet and you choose today of all days to call me your love?”

“I'm sorry." Crowley inches closer, lifts Aziraphale's hand to his mouth and kisses it. "I really am. I should have said it sooner. But I’m going to take you to a place where I’ll say it every day. I promise.” He wraps an arm around his angel's shoulders, gently urging Aziraphale to leave before the battle brewing, showing no sign of slowing down until it has consumed every last brick, every last breath of air, swallows them, too.

But Aziraphale hesitates. "C-can't we take them with us?" He gestures down to a tattered group of frightened survivors - a shivering young woman, no older than twenty-five if she's a day, and three children, all under the age of ten - huddled in a narrow crevice created by a metal door off its hinges, sheltering them among the rubble of the church's ruined stairs.

They've found themselves a decent hideaway, Aziraphale thinks. But he knows they're simply delaying the inevitable. They'll be found out before too long, become collateral damage.

Like everyone else.

"We can't just leave them to die, Crowley."

"We have no other choice." Crowley's need to escape intensifies as he watches the poor humans, tastes their fear rise with the heat of the flames. "Besides, perhaps they'll pull through. You never know. Humans have always been resourceful. They might find a way."

"Do you honestly think so?"

"Yes," Crowley lies. He would give his angel anything in the universe, anything within his power. He's trying to give him faith.

Because he can't give him this.

They can't save anyone but themselves.

Crowley turns Aziraphale away, blocks his view by unfurling his dark wings, ready to lift his angel into the air on his own if Aziraphale refuses. "I'm sorry, my love. We must leave them behind."

Aziraphale relents, unfurling his own white wings and heading for the upper atmosphere, watery eyes focused on the where in front of him and not the destruction behind him, with Crowley's shard of hope keeping his heart pinned in place.

Crowley should do the same. Ignorance is bliss, after all. But like Lot's wife, Crowley peeks behind him one last time to say goodbye to this place that has been his home for most of his existence.

It was a wonderful existence, but mostly because he had Aziraphale there to muddle through with him.

At least Crowley will still have him when all is said and done.

The last thing Crowley sees before they breach the clouds is St. Paul's Cathedral crumble in on itself, leaving behind a mound of ash.

And nothing more.

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale #Crowley

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yandere-romanticaa · 4 years

Text

Not all that glitters is gold.

The library was filled with quiet chatter from various students as the gentle rays of sunlight illuminated the ancient books in front of you, giving them an even more mysterious aura. You were preparing yourself for an upcoming assigment and seeing that you were a new student and that you couldn't peform any sort of magic, headmaster Crowley made it his mission to help you adjust in this quirky academy. But to be frank, assigments were the last thing you wanted to do. The headmaster also often made you clean up various parts of the castle which was in itself very tiresome and if you add the stress from the classes you took, it was safe to say that all you really wanted was to nap and maybe have a snack. It also didn't help that Grimm bearly lifted a paw to help you too...

But still, even in a dire situation like this you did your absolute best to remain positive. There was no use in panicking. Tapping your fingers against the wodden table, you looked at the window and was met with your own complexion and only then did you realize just how messy you were. You hair was messy and all over the place, your clothes were slightly filthy and your face had seen better days. You sighed as you retuned your gaze back to your books, waiting for your so called partner to show up. Headmaster Crowley assigned you a partner to work with for the next few weeks and you figured that he was going to be at least a year ahead of you. A part of you was overjoyed by the news since you really could use the extra help. The other part though couldn't help but to feel slightly nervous as you had no clue just who in the world he could be. Headmaster Crowley said that he was a competent and brilliant student and that you shouldn't have too much trouble with him.

As if on cue, the large wooden doors to the library were open and the distinct sound of shoes clicking against the tile floor could be heard as at least half of the students there stopped with their activites to marvel at the one who entered.

Vil Schoenheit.

You heard about him before, he was a well known figure in not just Night Raven but in the entire Twisted Wonderland. He was known for his breathtaking beauty and intelligence and the entire student body couldn't help but admire him. Head tilted up proudly, he sauntered towards your table and before you knew it he was standing right in front of you. You finally got a good look at him as you realized just how utterly flawless he was.

"No need to stare dear, beauty isn't something so contagious."

You couldn't help but to blush a little by his statement as you slightly pouted and looked down, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

"Before we even beging doing anything else may I ask, why do you look like that? When was the last time you took a bath, slept properly, hm?"

...Not even five minutes had past and this guy was already getting on your nerves. Your confidence grew back a little as you looked up at him, (e/c) eyed slightly narrowed in annoyance. His purple ones stared right back at you, his own distaste being put on display.

"Well? Aren't you going to answer me?"

You didn't have the patience for this.

He let out a sigh, closing his eyes in the process as he messaged his temples to calm himself down. He wordlessly sat in front of you, crossing his arms. Deep violet orbs stared back in to your own as neither one of you was willing to break eye contact. The air around you seemed to thicked as the perfume he wore started to invade your nostrils, the slightly flowery scent only causing you to furrow your brows even more. You two stayed like that for a few minutes, just studying each other in this thick silence. A few students who passed your table were weirded out by your behaviour but you paid no mind to them, and he seemed to be doing so as well. It felt like an eternity had passed until you finally decided to break the silence:

"Are we going to start working or what? We don't have all day."

"No, no we do not. But I absolutely refuse to work with someone who looks as filthy as you. At least take a shower!"

You couldn't help but to smirk a little knowing that you were getting to him. Being dirty was bothering you as well but he was just blowing this entire thing out of proportion.

"Don't you know that if you want to be the best you must look your best?!"

His teeth were gritted as his deep gaze seem to shot daggers in to your very soul but oddly enough he didn't intimidate you. A sudden wave of confidence washed over you as you found your voice once more, pure annoyance and determination lacing your voice.

"Vil, have you ever heard of the phrase "Not all that glitters is gold"? Looking good is not the be all and end all."

Your words stung the blond haired male as he continued to glare at you but no words came out of his mouth.

You two continued to bicker like this for the rest of the afternoon until the sun finally came down. The warm orange glow casted a shadown upon yours and Vil's table, only separating the two of you even more. You bearly got anything done that day and just before you could turn to leave, Vil's voice stopped you.

"Be back here tomorrow at the same time, and don't be late. Understood?"

You slammed the door shut, not giving him an answer.

♡♡♡

"Not all that glitters is gold."

Your words ran through Vil's head as he angrily paced around his room, checking his reflection every now and then. He couldn't believe that headmaster Crowley had partnered him up with someone like that, it was just disgraceful! His blood was boiling and it felt as though it was going to burst from the raw and sheer anger he was feeling at that moment. What made him even more mad was that he was still thinking about you. Why the Hell was he doing that?! He has better things to do anyway...!

♡♡♡

Hours turned in to days, and days turned in to weeks and you just could not seem to understand Vil. It bothered you greatly by just how arrogant he acted at times and his harshness towards you only made you dislike him even more. It also didn't help that he had such a strong presence in Night Raven so no matter where you went with Vil someone was bound to show up.

It was annoying.

Vil on the other hand pretty much never left your side and would pester you about literally everything you did. Your hair was too messy, that top didn't go with those pants, your back wasn't straight enough, your handwriting was poor, you were carrying the wrong book, you couldn't use any magic. It was getting to you, it honestly was. Just when you thought you could maybe get some time alone and gather your thoughts, Vil demanded that you eat lunch with him in order to keep and eye on you. He was driving you insane but it had become common for the two of you to fight, so much so that as a joke Rook even made a schedule. One Saturday morning though, Vil woke up in a rather bitter mood which was quite unusal for him. He did his usual morning routine, did his hair and make up, got dressed and took his books. Just as he was about to leave, the reality of the situation hit him like a truck.

It was Saturday.

You two didn't have to study together.

That thought should have brought him piece of mind but oddly enough, it didn't. His heartbeat quickened as a light sheen of sweat started to form on his forehead.

Why was he feeling like this?! He should be glad that he was no longer in your presence...! But he couldn't deny that at times, you were quite entertaining. Even if you were pretty much useless when it came to magic you were good with your words and just had this sort of charm that drew people in from time to time. When you bothered to get dressed nicely though, dare he say you looked absolutely stunning...

...What the Hell was wrong with him?!

♡♡♡

Exiting the Heartslabyul dorm, you continued to laugh as Grim, Deuce and Ace walked by your side, Grim pouting while the other two could not contain their laughter.

"You stupid raccoon, you burned that cake to a crisp! You should have seen Riddle's face, he was soooo pissed~!"

"How many times do I have to tell you explosion head, I'm not a raccoon!"

Vil was annoyed by the noise the three of you were causing but just when he was ready to give you all a piece of his mind, he saw you, smiling and laughing your heart out. He'd never seen you in such a cheery state, the closest thing he'd ever gotten from you that could resemble a smile but even then it was always a teasing one, meant to drive him up the wall. He soundlessly watched your little group up from the staircase, millions of diffirent thoughts running throught his troubled mind. You were so oblivious, weren't you? Did you really fail to notice just how much attention you were getting by simply smiling?

Just as about you were going to leave the main hallway, you stopped dead in your tracks an odd sense of fear filling your stomach. Your gut was screaming at you that something was wrong, that someone was watching you and your every move and whoever that someone was, they were damning your very soul to the deepest parts of Hell. You finally got the bright idea to look up and once you did, nothing could prepare you for the subtle but cold terror that was creeping upon you. Up the staircase stood Vil in all his glory, but his face was stern, his red lips pressed in a thin line but it were his eyes that unsettled you the most. You've never seen so much raw hatred directed towards someone and for the first time in a while, you were left speechless. You had no smartass comebacks this time, no sassy or cute jokes to fire back at the vain student. All you could do was stare and stay still in your place and just pray for him to just move, even if it was just his pinkie finger.

"Uh, hello, Earth to (y/n)?! You still with us??"

You were brought back down to Earth by your friends touch on your shoulder. The hand belonged to Deuce and when his hand came in to contact with your shoulder, Vil's expression hardened even more. You laughed nervously, just trying to brush of Vil and you continued to walk with your friends.

So that's how we're going to play, hm?

♡♡♡

No amount of preparation could prepare you for the horrors that awaited you on Monday morning. You were awoken by Rook who was given direct orders from Vil to bring you to the Pomfiore dormitory. Apparently, Vil made a little deal with the headmaster, and the headmaster approved. According to the arrangements, you could now sleep in the Pomfiore dormitory and you were to accompany Vil to all of his classes in order for you to better grasp certain subjects. The scariest part of everything though wasn't just this sudden change, but Vil's attitude towards you. If you two were in a crowd he was very nice to you, downright sweet even. In private though, his behavior would change and he would become a lot more controling and demanding. You could no longer be alone, it was a rule to be by Vil's side 24/7 and if you tried to break it Rook would just appear out of nowhere and deliver you to Vil.

His presence became overbearing as he demanded to be the one to dress you, wash your hair, do literally everything for you. You couldn't tell what was going on with him but something was surely wrong. His behaviour would shift so unexpectedly that you were never quite prepared for it. If you behaved well and did what he told you, Vil would spoil you with more undivided attention and gifts that most likely cost a fortune and then some. Some students even began to ship the two of you, cooing at Night Raven's "power couple". A lot of people were enchanted by the tale of the beauty Vil Schoenheit falling for a non magic user, but that person simply must be something special in order to catch his watchful eye.

You on the other hand felt like you could no longer breathe. Looking at your own reflection in the mirror, you bearly paid attention to the stunning purple dress that perfectly hugged your curves and the exquisite make up that Vil himself put on you.

You were a perfect doll, just like how Vil wanted you to be. He was going to break you, he was going to teach you a lesson about being oh so careless with his poor heart. And then he was going to mold you back together, in to the perfect little darling, worthy of being by his side.

♡♡♡

Tagging @poisonepel because I would love to hear your opinion on this! You are a Vil Schoenheit connoisseur, please, do tell if you think he'd be like this? And sorry if this was bad, I'm new for writing Vil!

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil schoenheit x reader #twisted wonderland vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit

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astringofmadhousefloozies · 3 years

Text

Birthday Sequence

Three friends have their birthday in a month of each other, and the parties get progressively more interesting. Content warnings for coarse language, offscreen sexuality, underage drinking and the consequences thereof.

As always, check my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag for more, let me know if you enjoyed reading, and if you want to chat or ask a question, my askbox is open.

~*~*~*~

"You look great."

Idia made a whine you were certain they could hear in Savannahclaw and put his face in his hands. "Why did no one tell me about the birthday event?"

"I dunno, because we'd all assumed you'd seen everyone else put on the prissy little birthday boy suit and dance around like an idiot while I did an interview, and realized you weren't exempt."

"But why didn't you make Crowley skip me?" He looked ready to cry, so you you got up on tiptoes to kiss his nose and dry his tears, which simply had the opposite effect.

"Because maybe I wanted to see you dressed up pretty for a change?"

He just groaned. "Wasn't the festival enough?"

"Never enough; not with you. I'll make sure me and Ortho are your bodyguards, okay? Now, get out there and pretend they're all in their underwear. I got a present on the table for you. And..."

"And?"

"If you're truly overwhelmed, I'll bring you back here to hide, and get you out of the monkey suit myself."

It took him three seconds to turn a truly absurd shade of pink, and flee out the door of his room. The only thing scarier than a crowd where you're the center of attention is a lover who's relentless in voicing her attraction, if you're a neurotic dweeb with a molten core of self-hatred.

~*~*~*~

He'd relaxed somewhat as the presents went on. After checking with each person if they'd rather he open it now or in private (shuddering every time someone said now, in fear of bad reactions), he'd so far wound up with a super mega deluxe vinyl release of the Moirai's most recent album (despite not owning a record player, but it came with the digital album and lots of feelers so he still liked it very much), piles of sweets, and wouldn't have to pay for the subscriptions on most of his game for at least two years. And, he still had a pile to go through.

"Who's this one?"

"That's me. Go ahead."

He lifted the lid off the box, and took out a little creature, a sofubi toy of transluscent grey plastic painted with pearly stripes and shiny green eyes. "I've never seen this Nyarochi before." He turned it this way and that, a small smile on his lips. "Where'd you get this?"

"I got it blank at that second hand shop you showed me."

"... Blank." You could see the gears turning.

"Why do you think I asked to borrow your airbrush?"

Turning, turning... there we go. "You did this?"

"Yeah, dude. One of a kind, just for you."

He looked back and forth between you and the toy, smile growing. Once finally settled on you, he lit up - literally; his hair let out a bright, sparking burst that left spots in your eyes. You think he might have said thank you, you were too busy reeling from the sweetness of his expression, all directed at you, and little Nyarochi was tucked in his jacket pocket until he finally left for his room, you in tow.

~*~*~*~

"Hey Sam."

"Hey, Yuu. What can I get for you this fine day?"

"I got a list. I'm making something for Lilia. Did you know he's a new year's baby?"

"I did!" Sam scanned the list, only to set it down and raise an eyebrow at you. "I have much of this, and can order almost all the rest. You do know I'm not allowed to sell alcohol to a minor."

"It ain't for me, though. Do you know where I can get it?"

He shuffled around in a drawer before sliding a card across the table. "In Stock Now! The solution to your problem."

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. "Sam. Does Crowley know you're selling fake IDs?" Your turned it over. "Really, really good fake IDs?"

"Crowley lets me do what I want, because I might stop doing what he wants."

You laughed. "Gross. Alright, I don't know the price, but can I get a discount if I help you stock a few weekends?"

"I'll do layaway just for you, if you come in next week."

~*~*~*~

"Yuu!" Lilia leapt at you, and you swung him around in a hug. "It's so great to have you here! Where's my loot?"

"I got to finish it, let me go a minute."

He did, and watched with interest as you set up from your cooler. You ran a lime around the rim of a glass, and crust it with red salt before filling it with ice.

"Yuuuuuuu. My little darling. You know I'm too young to drink."

"No you're not, dude. it's an open secret, like what happens in that shed behind the gym stays there and you don't get admitted to NRC if you're completely heterosexual." You added the mix to the glass, before tossing in a celery stick and sliding it over to him.

He barked out a laugh and took the glass. "That's true all right." He sipped at it and smiled. "What is it?"

"At home they call it a Caesar. I made up a shitton and I'm leaving you with the recipe, which you have to follow. I figure you liked your tomato juice, so..."

"It is just my taste. Thank you." You'd only blinked, and he'd already finished it and slid the glass back. "More, please."

~*~*~*~

You'd learned two things tonight, of which you'd only dimly suspected one. The first was that Lilia could probably drink the entire school under the table, staff and ghosts included. The second, far more interesting thing, was that when tipsy, Lil talked about his past, and in his past, he truly redefined the meaning of "absolute slut".

Looking like a particularly cute teenybopper had not stopped him from fucking his way through most of the Court of Thorns, and a great deal of the places he'd visited, in ways both inventive and more than occasionally disturbing. You really, really ought to stop him; poor Mal was standing out on the balcony with his fingers in his ears, singing very loudly to drown out the noise, but you were too busy taking notes. Kalim was listening to his fellow Light Music Club member in awe, and Cater had been recording for the past forty five minutes, though you were pretty sure if he uploaded any of this his Magicam account would get permabanned for pornographic content.

"And that's when his sister - fabulous woman, cunt like a ripe fig and she'd start giggling every time you..." he stopped and swirled his empty glass. "Where'd my drink go?"

"You drank it all, dear. There's none left."

"Aww. Why'd I have to share it all." He set his glass down and plucked the half-full one from in front of Silver's sleeping form. "Hey, did I ever tell you what I got up to with his," nodding out towards Malleus,"his grandmother?"

You never found out, as Mal simply bodied him clean across the room before any more could be said.

~*~*~*~

"Vil."

"What."

"Can I borrow your lab equipment?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Why."

"I wanna make perfume."

He brightened. "Finally decided to stop smelling like a haunted house?"

"Vil, I actually pay real money for perfume that smells like a haunted house. I have multiple. Sometimes I layer them, to mix with the natural scent of the haunted house I already live in. And it's not for me, though if this works I might try to make stuff for myself."

He wrinkled his nose at you, somehow not creasing his makeup. "Why should I help you?"

You thought about it, and then shrugged. "Well. Why not?"

"... I hate that I can't argue with that. Come on."

~*~*~*~

You have no idea if the party was sedate because of the relatively few people outside of Diasomnia, or because everyone was scared of potential etiquette breaches. You could not complain either way; parties wore on you as they went on and Idia hadn't tried to leave in fear. Either way, Mal was starting to go from blandly cheerful host to fretful.

"What if there is too much cake? I don't wan't to have to finish it."

"You don't have to, dude. Cake's for sharing."

"When I was young, I was the only person at my party who wasn't a servant. So I would end up eating the entire cake by myself, every time." He stared off into the middle distance. "I don't really like cake."

"That's the single saddest thing I have ever heard in my entire life, holy shit dude."

"Why have a cake then, if you don't like it?" Idia was halfway through his piece. Third piece, actually. You envied his capacity to eat what seemed like his weight in buttercreme and not get nauseous, even if you worried for his pancreas.

"Tradition," Mal said, as if he was explaining the most obvious thing in the world.

"You should have done an ice cream cake, then. You actually like that."

"That is an option?" He paused, eyes full of wonder. "What else can be ice cream?"

You cut in before Malleus could continue down a road of ice-cream-everything. "You know, if you're that worried about leftovers, why not send a wrapped slice with the thank you cards for the gifts? Gets rid of it all so you won't be compelled to eat it ‘til you're sick."

Mal instantly grabbed you. "You are a brilliant, amazing, genius of a person. I'm glad you're my Son of Man and I like you very much."

Idia gave the tinest of coughs, looking towards the poison-coloured flames in the fireplace.

"You are mine too. I like the special case for my Dragon-Kun very much."

"Thought you would." He smiled down at his plate.

"Oh, shit, yeah. Here's mine." You brought the bag out from behind your seat and handed it over; Mal shredding it in his excitement.

"... What is this?" the box inside revealed a set of five amber bottles with screw-on tops.

"Your own special perfume blend. Rose petals from the Heartslabyul garden, blackberries, and the fruit of a blackthorn tree." You leaned back in your seat and struggled not to laugh at your own hideous pun. "I call it Feeling Thorny."

Good thing the box was well padded, because he dropped it in his laughter. Idia, bless his heart, wound up choking on some of the cake and needed an entire glass of water to stop coughing.

"I got the goods!" Lilia and Sebek had returned, the latter glowering at you over the top of a dusty crate as though he'd assumed you'd simply eat his precious prince alive the second his back was turned.

"What's the goods, Lil."

"Well, he's got friends he made here for this party, so I figured I'd crack something open from my stash." He pried the top of the crate with his bare hands, which would have made you need to sit down if you hadn't been already. "Saving this for a special occasion."

"Lilia, there's no need to bring that out for us."

"Nonsense! You deserve it! And this party's too damned slow. A little wine will be just the thing, and this is very light stuff, you'll all be fine."

You doubted that, but still accepted the glass of liquid gold when offered. It smelled sweet and floral, and to your pleasant surprise, did not taste like fermented misery when sipped.

Wait a minute.

"Lil, if I drink the fairy wine, I don't have to go live in the Valley of Thorns forever, do I?"

Malleus, seizing opportunity, sad "Yes" at the same time Lilia said "No" and Lil elbowed Mal in the ribs for it. "I'm not invoking any of our more traditional rules of hospitality. If I must," he said, elbowing Mal again before he could try to weave anything, "Let this be in return for being such wonderful friends to both me and my boy."

"I'll accept it." You sipped more as Silver wandered over and leaned over Idia for a glass himself. Idia simply drained his own to try and distract himself from the proximity of him before the anxiety kicked into high gear. Maybe it would vanish entirely if you got him profoundly drunk, you thought to yourself, but that wasn't something you wanted to try. He had enough issues without his deciding alcoholism was the solution to his problems.

Time to settle down and enjoy the evening. The wine didn't feel like anything, so what could possibly happen?

~*~*~*~

You woke up with a pounding head, your party clothes in disarray, and new and interesting pains. You examined yourself and your surroundings, and let things come back naturally.

Lilia, being very generous with his bottles, to the point of not letting a glass go empty at any point. Malleus sitting with his legs crossed and head in his hands, gazing warmly and not without hunger at a both very animated and disheveled Idia as he talked. You getting up to leave, and sitting right back down because your legs didn't work, so you'd simply...

Simply wound up here in Mal's bed, instead of home. With both of your boys.

The evidence wasn't the best. No telltale soreness, but you had a number of new and interesting bite marks, including one very high on your inner thigh with the dentition clearly showing fangs. Your underwear was in place, even if the tule of your pannier was shredded, so you didn't think you'd done anything more than very heavy petting. And to tell the truth? The idea of having done anything more didn't bother you - truly, there weren't other people you'd rather have done it with - but the idea that you had? And you couldn't recall all the fun details? Agonizing.

You leaned over, holding your head, to brush the hair off of Mal's face. He looked at ease, and had managed to slot himself into his weird pillows, so at least he wouldn't wake up with a crick in his neck.. You checked your boyfriend, clinging to Mal's far side like a lanky blue limpet. On his collarbone, at the spot where you preferred to leave your own marks, was a bite similar to the one on your leg. You had to turn away at the sight; the images it brought to your mind left your flushed and dizzy with want despite your pain. How fun, to learn new and interesting things about yourself.

Idia stirred and sat up. He looked to you, to Mal, to you again. His face had no expression beyond starting to turn rapidly grey and sweaty.

You pointed. "That door."

He nodded once before stumbling off to bed and through the bathroom door, to puke away his hangover.

Alright, next step. You poked at your sleeping friend. "Mal. You alive?"

He opened both eyes, bloodshot with a hair-thin pupil, and started making a noise akin to a base boosted tea kettle up 'til you placed a pillow over his head to shut him up. Fortunately, it worked immediately, he lay where he was like an idiot until adjusting it so the pillow merely blocked the top of his face.

"Yuu. How are you feeling?"

You thought about it. "Like I got run through a laundry press. You?"

He smacked his lips and ran his tongue over his teeth. "My mouth has grown fur."

"Wonderful."

"Light hurts."

"Par for the course."

"I'm not sure what else yet. Where is Shroud?"

Another bout of heaving from Malleus's bathroom answered that thoroughly.

Mal pouted. "Poor thing. He didn't even have that much."

"We all had enough. I'm still remembering bits and pieces."

He reached towards you and grabbed your arm, squeezing. "You are... you..." As much as he struggled for the words, the anxiety in his voice made the meaning clear enough.

"I'm not upset over any of it. I just hate that I don't recall it clearly yet." You extracted your arm from his grasp, and slid off the bed. "I'm gonna get water from the hall bathroom. You want any?"

He smacked his lips again, and smiled, wider than you'd ever seen him do before, specks of blood still crusted in the grooves of his teeth. "I can still taste you on my tongue. I never want it to fade."

"Hhhhhholy shit you need water. Bye." You left to try and hide the wobbling in your legs that wasn't from the hangover.

~*~*~*~

"You."

You stopped, and stared. It took an entire four seconds to realize that the large, half-dressed green bean glaring at you from the doorway was Sebek before he styled his hair in the morning. "You mean like, my name, or just me in general?"

He pointed a finger, hissing out his words. "You finally did it! You evil little minx."

"I didn't, actually, or at least not what you think."

He kept going, trying to keep his voice down. "You've seduced Lord Malleus! And now you're going to try and steal the crown."

What in the actual fuck. And he wasn't done yet. "You cruel temptress! Leading him on just so that you could become a queen our people would detest! My poor lord, at the whims of some-"

"Hey, you jealous there, Zig? You mad you aren't serving him all ways? If you want his dick so bad-"

"Shhhhhhhhh!" He looked over his shoulder, back inside, before glaring back at you. "I couldn't do that in good conscience! Lord Malleus deserves someone who holds only him in their heart. He's not my whole heart, so I wouldn't try. You, you have damn near everyone here wrapped around your fingers! And it's still not enough for you!"

"Sebek! He is my friend. And I give zero fucks about the whole throne thing, just so you know. Why would I want to be a queen? That shit sounds exhausting. And he isn't going to ascend until my great grandkids are in the dirt, so, yanno, shit planning if I tried."

Sebek was trying to think of a rebuttal when a pair of hands squeezed him from behind. "Stop yelling. I'm going to brush my teeth." Silver let go and circled around, dragging his hand along Sebek's waist as he did. "Be ready when I'm back." With that, he walked past you with his small smirk to the bathroom you'd just exited, wearing nothing but one of Sebek's shirts.

You watched the hemline skirting the back of his thighs with entirely too much interest before looking back at Sebek. "God damn, dude."

"Say anything else and I will throw you out the window."

~*~*~*~

Mal had traded his bed for sitting on the floor, braced against the wall by the bathroom. He'd managed to close the drapes against the garish light of morning, and the sounds from beyond the wall had changed from sickness to a running shower as you gave Mal a cup. "Drink up, asshole."

"How am I an asshole?"

"Because it's your birthday we all got drunk at."

"Please blame Lilia for that. Fairy wine is not something humans should start the evening with." He sipped the water and grimaced.

"Taste bad?"

"I forgot I didn't want to put anything else in my mouth after you."

"Mal, no. There won't be a repeat, even if I don't really regret it."

He looked at you with heart about to break. "Why not?"

"It's not fair to either of you! I love you dearly, but I'm not in love with you. I'm in love with him." You sighed. Even as more of last night came back, you realized you may have broken the whole thing beyond repair. "And how would you like it if you saw me running around with someone else? Don't say you wouldn't be jealous. You've got a five mile streak of it."

Mal was silent, before saying very quietly, "I don't mind so much after having him too."

"Yeah, well." You put your head in your hands. "You're sure he didn't jump out the window to hide in his room forever after that?"

Mal knocked againt the door, wincing at the noise. "Idia? You are present? You're alive in there?"

A few moments before that shaky reply of "I'm not sure, check in five minutes."

Mal smiled. "That's promising, is it not?"

"You know I can hear you out there, right?"

"I didn't."

"I can." More silence. "Also, the window doesn't open."

You quirked your mouth. "Is the shower helping? I might need a turn."

"Some."

"Do you want to talk about last night?"

More silence, before a small, "Not yet," as the shower shut off. "Can I borrow a robe? My clothes are wet."

"Go ahead, Idia."

He exited in a cloud of steam and purple-black terrycloth, and simply laid down on the floor, gripping it as if he would fly off.

"Still bad?"

He noded, cheek pressed against the floor. Fresh from the water, his hair was low enough that you could make out the actual hair on his head, each glowing like the finest fiber optic thread.

"Well. I don't think any of us are going to class today. So stay as long as you need to."

"Thank god, I don't want to try those damned stairs until my head's on right." You thought to yourself for a moment. "Is Ortho okay?"

Idia actually managed a smile. "I told him I was thinking of staying over and trying to activate event flags."

It took you a moment to understand the implications of that. "Noooo. This was not your idea."

"Mal wasn't. But. Ummmmm." He held up a hand and wiggled it. "He was there?"

"Your boyfriend is interestingly pliable when someone puts their mouth on him. A trait you both share, actually."

You felt ready to burst into flames. This could not be happening. "So who's idea was you getting under my skirts, Mal? That bruise is going to last weeks."

"Yours, actually. You wouldn't let go of my horns until you were satisfied."

The memory of that, and more, hit you like a transport truck, and you simply laid down and refused to say anything until Lilia burst in, disgustingly chipper and with a platter of burnt toast to chew on until the worst of the hangover was gone.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfiction #idia shroud #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia

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spiderling-space · 3 years

Text

For Malleyuu Week 2021

Day 3: Hurt or Comfort

This short fic is between my MC, Natalie Croft, and Malleus. Written in 3rd perspective from Malleus' POV.

This is slightly inspired by this idea

Italics indicate thoughts

Malleus Draconia & Natalie Croft

"Natalie"

"Malleus," Natalie greeted him, smiling and waving "oh, you addressed me by my name which means this is gonna be a serious talk." She shook her head and adorned a faux serious expression.

After spending a long time together, Malleus started to pick up when Natalie was being playful, sarcastic or stern. While she was trying to humour him, she made a correct statement. What he intended to say was crucial for him.

"It is," He affirmed the gravity of the situation serenely. "I would be elated if you agree to meet my grandmother."

She tilted her head, furrowing her eyebrows. "I uh... What?"

"I told my grandmother everything about you. She requested to see you in person in order to get to know my special friend." Malleus clarified her confusion. That was right. He wrote about his special friend in his letter to his grandmother. All those moments they spent together, all the activities they did together and all the emotions she made him feel. She was truly a special friend as Lilia explained the type of relation he had with Natalie.

Her expression softened "Aww," she patted his arm, beaming at him, "thank you!" To his contempt, she withdrew her hand. "I'd love to meet her! When can I meet her?" Her excitement to meet his only relative was fluttering his heart gleefully.

"I will be going back to Valley of Thorns during spring break. It would be magnificent if you choose to accompany me."

"Of course!" Malleus was overjoyed to hear her response. "Oh wait!" She touched his shoulder before he apparated away, making eye contact. Her beautiful green eyes were glinting with mischief. "So you think I'm special?" She flipped her hair with her hand, a bright smile adorning her face before winking at him, making his heart skip a beat.

Malleus became accustomed to her teasing, in fact, he sometimes yearned for it since he knew she was that way only with the people she deemed close. However, right now he just needed to send a letter to his grandmother, notifying her that his special friend agreed to meet her during the break. Getting away from her question was just another perk. "Farewell, Natalie." He chuckled before apparating to his room.

--------

The first day of spring break arrived in the blink of an eye for Malleus. Lilia and Silver were first going to go to Lilia's house in the forest, taking a break from knight duty while Malleus was already surrounded by multiple Royal Guards. Meanwhile, Sebek was going to stay with his parents even though he insisted to continue being his knight. Malleus knew that boy needed a break but was too proud to admit so he ordered him to spend time with his family.

Then there were just him, Natalie and Grim who would go to his palace. He had ordered a special room to be prepared for her and Grim, filling the room with her aesthetics and ordered the cooks to prepare her favourite meals. He wanted to impress her and show her a glimpse of the life she could have in Valley of Thorns. He also took Grim's preference into account as he knew Grim was holding a significant place in her heart.

"Nice," As Natalie's melodic voice filled the Magic Mirror room, Malleus started to get excited, yet showing a stoic expression on the outside. "Last time, students were going back to their homes, this place was like a circus."

"The others don't want to accidentally bump into me. Headmaster Crowley doesn't want the students to experience fear as they return home so he arranges my return home earlier than others." He explained casually.

"That's so cool! You won't get squashed between people and move freely!" Natalie added as she was pulling her 2 large baggage, clearly having a hard time with it. "Grim! Stop sitting on the case and help me push!" It was an amusing scene for Malleus but he didn't want her to force herself so he flicked his hand and her baggage started to float towards the Mirror. "Gosh, I wish I was able to do that!" He was always delighted to see her impressed by something he did or said. She looked around the room as if she was searching for something. "Where is your baggage?"

He chuckled, such a silly question, "I do not have any need to bring any of my stuff as I have everything I need in the palace." He then took a note of her baggages, it looked heavy in human standards as she was having a hard time moving it, knowing that she wasn't a weakling. "Do you plan to move in completely?" He had an opportunity to tease her so he had to take it.

"Oh my! You figured out my secret! How did you know?" She answered with the most exaggerated shocked expression he had ever seen. He knew she was only joking but a part of him wanted this to be the reality. He let out a small laugh to let her know that he understood her joke. "Okay, okay, I'll tell you. I have hidden a body there and I was planning to dump it in Valley of Thorns." So she wished to continue with her silly jester. "Fine, I'll tell ya. As you see, my clothing is different than usual." he nodded in agreement, he had noticed everything about her the moment she walked in. "I noticed that you cover your skin and I thought that it might be something cultural so as you see, I am covering more of my body. In my luggage, I have clothes in different styles that I'll wear if it is okay by Valley of Thorn's culture. I didn't want to be disrespectful towards you or your culture." His heart melted at that moment. She was sensitive towards his homeland and it was further proving that he chose the correct person. "Other than that I have my shoes, personal hygiene, feminine hygiene, ibuprofen, Grim's stuff, makeup, hair care products, hairdryer, hair curler, sunglasses, slippers, pyjamas and so on." He didn't expect a literal answer and was impressed by her dedication to her needs on vacation. Though, he didn't understand some of the items she listed.

"Since you have arrived, we can finally go." Malleus extended his hand towards Natalie, waiting for her to hold it as they went through the mirror. The second her hand touched his, grabbing it, Malleus felt a jolt run through his hand. He searched Natalie's face to see any reaction that would indicate she felt the same way but she was busy with holding Grim's paw and one of her luggages. He didn't want to wait any longer as he grabbed her other luggage and imagined his home before going through the mirror.

---------

"Not gonna lie here, I'm nervous about meeting your grandma. I feel like I'll mess up and leave a bad image of me." Malleus somewhat understands her worry, his grandmother was the one who would give her blessing to their relationship and she was known as the fae with the highest standard.

"Do not worry, Natalie, my grandmother knows how dear you are to me." He tucked in a strand of her red hair behind her ear. He wanted to hold her face there and then but now was not the time. He placed her hand interwoven with his arm and signalled the guards to open the door.

"You didn't even tell me how I should address her!" She whispered hurriedly as two Royal Guards opened the door of the throne room with their magic. There were no usual guards inside the room. He assumed she wanted to meet his special friend privately. As they walked inside the room, the door was closed.

Malleus' grandmother was nowhere to be seen as they neared the Dragon Throne. Then suddenly, he felt a shift in the magic behind them, indicating that his grandmother had arrived. "Malleus, my dearest!" His grandmother opened his arms waiting for a hug. He didn't make her wait, he let go of Natalie and walked towards his grandmother, hugging her tightly.

"Good afternoon," He greeted her before turning towards Natalie, extending his hand toward her direction. "This is the one I talked about, Natalie Emilia Croft." He spoke proudly, the moment he had been waiting for had arrived.

However, something didn't go as he imagined. Natalie, the person who always had something to say was standing there like a statue, eyes wide and not moving. He could hear how fast her heart was beating and thought it must be the sheer excitement. "Natalie," She didn't give any reaction again so he took quick steps to near her. "Natalie," he tried once again, touching her shoulder and shaking delicately.

"Huh?" Natalie got out of her trance. "Oh..." She shook her head as if it would clear her thought. Then she giggled, putting her hand on his bicep lightly. A cute smile formed on her face as she looked up at him. "Malleus, you told me we would meet your grandmother," she then withdrew her hand and turned towards the other fae in the room, "You didn't tell me you had a sister!"

Malleus was confused, trying to understanding the situation. He could sense that his grandmother was as confused as him but she was the one that recovered first. "Sweet little human, your flattery will not work on me."

Natalie took a few steps towards his grandmother. "I was only telling what I see, a goddess on Earth-ah-Twisted Wonderland." Something was off with the way she spoke. Her voice tone and expressions were way different from the way she spoke with him. "I am so sorry. I was enthralled by your beauty that our introduction was cut short. I am Natalie Croft, a friend of Malleus from Night Raven Collage. Lovely to meet you!" Natalie extended her hand toward his grandmother for a handshake. He didn't even pay attention to what Natalie said about their relationship. All of his attention was focused on his grandmother, waiting for her reaction.

His grandmother didn't shake Natalie's hand. Instead, she lifted her eyebrow, scrutinizing her as if she was trying to decide if Natalie was lying. "I am Maleficent Draconia, the Queen of Valley of Thorns and Malleus' grandmother."

"I am sorry, I have no idea how I shall address you properly. Where I am from, we only used Queen Elizabeth or the Queen, I have never had a chance to speak directly! Oh boy, I'm speaking quickly but it's because I cannot contain my excitement to meet you." Maleficent was known as a strict person so he was worried that she would disapprove of Natalie now.

Luckily his worries were farse. Maleficent chuckled, "Is this how you charmed my grandson's heart, little human?" She asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"I'm 170 cm so I am not really little," Natalie let out a little laugh, "I wouldn't say I charmed his heart per se. He is my friend and I behaved the same way I behave towards my other friends. He and some other people mentioned that people are afraid of him but, to be honest, I've never seen Malleus do something that would make me fear him. Also..." Natalie was talking about him but he lost his focus the moment she said that he wasn't treated special. He could see the same confusion on his grandmother's face.

"Little girl!" Maleficent's voice boomed, he could feel her magic in the air. "Did you admit you treat the others the same way you treat my grandson?"

Natalie gulped, "Y-Yes..."

"So you admit you cheated on the person you are courting?" If things accelerated, he would step in between them. However, a part of him wondered the same question.

"Courting?" Natalie was confused. "I have read medieval setting books, I know that word." In all honesty, Malleus was impressed that she could form a coherent sentence in front of an angry Maleficent. "There is a misunderstanding. I am not courting Malleus or anyone. We are simply friends."

His grandmother calmed down as he heard Natalie sighing in relief. "Well then, we will converse again but first, Malleus," Maleficent looked at him, "Escort Natalie somewhere where you can have a private conversation. There is something you have to resolve." She apparated on her throne.

Malleus nodded, walked to Natalie's side, offered his hand. She held his hand once again and he ignored the sparks he was feeling this time. He apparated them to his rose garden before they sat on the bench. "Natalie," he started, "What did you mean back in the throne room?"

"Can you answer my question first?" She asked in the most sincere voice he had ever heard. He nodded in agreement. "Did you... tell your grandma that we are dating, I mean courting?"

"I could not contain my happiness and she loves to hear the changes in my life. I did write her letters mentioning all the activities we did for our courtship, you inviting me to places where only two of us are, us taking nightly strolls, you hugging me and kissing me."

"I- I only kissed your cheek as a thank you!" She answered apprehensively. Then took a deep breath. "You and I from different worlds and cultures that caused a misunderstanding to happen between us." She wasn't making any sense. Lilia told him all of them meant they were courting. "Everything we did together, me hugging you and giving you a kiss to a cheek are all friendly gestures. I-" She gulped, lowering her eyes momentarily before taking his hands into hers and making eye contact. "I don't see you that way."

"What way is that?" Words left his mouth before he could stop himself.

"I don't have any romantic feelings for you. I only see you as a friend." Natalie said only two sentences but it felt like she tore his heart from his chest and stabbed it. "You have been nothing but kind to me. You are the only person who was not mean to me ever. You have no idea how much that means to me."

If I mean so much to you, then why do you not want to be with me? Mean thought plagued his mind.

"You are one of the closest friends I have ever and I appreciate it truly."

You do not seem to appreciate me as you break my heart.

"But I have never ever seen or thought of you anything more than a close friend."

Malleus looked at her face to see if she was joking. As much as he wanted this to be a cruel joke, he saw that she was serious. But he wanted to try one last time. "Is there a chance of you to change your mind?"

She bit her lips, before plastering a smile on her face. "I cannot command how my heart feels, Malleus. I am sure you can understand that."

I understand it very well, Child of Man. A part of him was angry that she rejected him while the other part of him was upset that he assumed how she felt about him and their relationship were completely wrong. He wished he could tell his heart to stop loving her as more than friends and to seize aching but even with all the magic he had, it was impossible. He just needed some time alone to process all of these.

"You are free to explore the palace." Malleus had said as he retreated his hands from Natalie and stood up. Anyone would understand that he was upset as a lightning storm started over the palace even though he had stoic expression. "I have a matter to take care of, until then Croft." He bid her farewell before apparating to the mountains of Valley of Thorns.

#malleus draconia #Natalie Croft #twst mc #malleyuuweek2021 #malleyuu #twisted wonderland mc #twst oc #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland oc

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katsidhe · 3 years

Note

hello!

i am always in awe of your sam meta posts and (if it’s not too much trouble!) i was wondering on your thoughts of a take that’s been floating around in my head for a while.

that if crowley somehow lived post s12, would he have tried to give hell’s throne to sam? how would -that- play out? would sam accept it there in early s13 and try to make a ‘better’ hell or would he be like s14 and abolish the position entirely?

sorry for the ramble, many thoughts head full 😅

Thank you!

Hmm, so we have two perspectives here: would Crowley do this, and would Sam agree. To which I would answer in brief, maybe, and absolutely not.

So first of all, would Crowley try to cede the throne to Sam? He says in 12.23 he doesn’t like his job, but I’m honestly not sure how to take that: despite his kvetching, I don’t think he’s in the kind of position where he actually wants to be disempowered. He’d like a break from the responsibilities while still enjoying the power, the perks, the security. So in that sense, Sam isn’t a terrible option. Despite Sam’s consistently expressed disgust for him, Crowley has a weird amount of fondness and trust in Sam. Sam, with his reputation and pedigree, could be a fairly safe place for Crowley to vest his power while he goes off to retire in Aruba.

Honestly, the more I think about it, the more I think a s12 Crowley would kind of enjoy having Sam as his functionary/steward/successor the way he’d dreamed of using Dean as an brute enforcer in s10. Leave Sam to do the heavy lifting and make the big sweeping moral decisions and stay on top of the paperwork and intimidate demons into line with his name alone.

Crowley’s self-proclaimed goal in 12.23 is, if he survives, to close the gates of Hell, and certainly that would require Sam’s cooperation, possibly even his death, if we’re going the Trials route: perhaps Crowley could even view the crown in Hell as Sam’s destination after this, a la Rowena. [Incidentally, Rowena TOTALLY used the cachet of her relationship with Sam to win her crown.]

I can, if I squint, envision a possibility where Crowley pushes Sam to accept the mantle of King and Sam accepts only for the sake of destroying and denying it a la 14.01, and locking the gates of Hell forever.

But something I don’t think would ever be on the table in late seasons is Sam trying to reform Hell, himself, personally, as a ruler. Far too slippery a slope, far too much intrinsic evil. He’d turn down any offer that would mean he had the position with any permanence. I think he’s far, far too sick of how Hell’s politics have impacted him personally for him to be involved in any capacity beyond shutting the whole machine down. Part of this is self-protective, but part of it is still grounded in the fear of touching his own inhumanity with a ten-foot pole. Sam is happy to say that any potential demon lord had better not start shit, but he’s definitely not going to think of himself as anything like a demon lord. Sam in s13 and Sam in s14 have really similar perspectives on Hell, I think.

There is one massive difference between s13 and s14, of course, which is that Lucifer is alive in s13, and Mary is trapped with him. This might put certain options back on the table. But with Jack in Sam’s care, and therefore with a way to get to Mary and even theoretically to overpower Lucifer, I don’t think Hell has anything to offer Sam, even pragmatically. Even when up against Michael in s14, Sam wasn’t interested in anything the demons in 14.01 could give him. I think it’s more than safe to say that s13-14 Sam is officially over trusting or needing anything from Hell’s power.

#sam and crowley #sam and hell #12.23 #14.01 #tbh sam neither likes nor trusts Crowley enough to do something like that for him #And Sam views the whole machinery of hell with disgust and some fear #fxmuldr

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shrimpemotions · 4 years

Text

Happy wedding day! I couldn’t resist writing something incredibly sappy for the new husbands.

i am loved, i am loved (1.6k words)

----------

As Dancing Queen blares from Charlie's speakers, Dean fights his way through the crowd of somehow-still-partying-at-two-AM dancers, beelining for the freakishly tall man heads above the gyrating hordes. Really, he lost focus for just a second to get some water, and he turned to find his husband had been whisked away from his side to dance again. And by his own brother, which is just the worst kind of betrayal. When he gets to them, Sam and Cas are more flailing limbs and wild laughter than any real moves (a far cry from their earlier dancing, which looked downright choreographed. Dean's convinced they went behind his back and hired someone, no matter what Sam says). Everyone around them is giving them a wide berth, which is probably the safest move, but Dean is on a mission, even if his frustration is already melting away. Heart full to bursting, he drapes himself over Cas's back and kisses his cheek.

"Hey there, sunshine. Havin' fun?'' he asks. Cas tilts his head to meet his gaze, and his already-stunning smile grows wider.

(continued under the cut)

"Hello Dean," he says warmly, and fuck, if that doesn't send Dean soaring, head right up in the clouds with no clear path down. "Are you here to dance with us?"

Dean shakes his head.

"Think I want you all to myself," he whispers in Cas's ear, delighting in the way Cas's eyes darken. It's a Herculean feat to tear his gaze away when Sam clears his throat.

"Hey, Sammy! I'm stealin' Cas," he says, and Sam pulls a spectacular bitchface.

"Y'know, he's my brother now, I think I have a right to dance with him."

"And he's my husband, so I win," Dean retorts, sticking his tongue out for good measure.

Sam sticks up his middle finger, even as his expression softens. Dean just laughs, stumbling off the dance floor with his arm around Cas. The overwhelming joy of the day has rushed to his head, which is pleasantly floaty and right on the edge of dizzy (being drunk on love, he thinks somewhat giddily, is much better than being drunk on alcohol). His throat hurts from singing, his eyes sting from crying, and his feet ache from dancing, but he doesn't think he's ever felt so happy in his entire life. He can't stop looking at Cas, at his husband, drinking in his shining eyes and wide smile. This is how Cas should look every day: blissfully happy, with all of the weight lifted from his shoulders. Dean's going to do everything he can to keep that look on Cas's face for the rest of their lives.

As the song changes to something slow and crooning, Cas releases a drawn-out yawn. Dean can't help his fond grin, and he kisses Cas's temple.

"Bedtime for handsome husbands," he says playfully (and definitely not selfishly. This has nothing to do with how badly he wants his husband's full, undivided attention). But Cas pouts, twisting in Dean's arms so that they're face to face. He stumbles a bit, nearly falls, but Dean catches him. He always will.

"One more dance," Cas says, eyes going wide, and. Well. Dean has always been weak for those eyes.

"One more dance," he agrees, gathering Cas up in his arms.

Cas beams, somehow brighter than before, as he presses their foreheads together and winds his arms around Dean's waist. He whispers warm endearments and quiet praise inches from Dean's lips, sharing both breath and love. It's all sappy as fuck, and the Dean of before (before Cas, before this whole family they've built from the ground up) would have scoffed at it all and tried to distance himself before someone saw them. The Dean of today savors it, basks in it, and presses himself even closer. They've earned a lifetime of chick flick moments, spectators be damned (and after their vows, there's really no more soul left to bare to these people anyway).

Eventually, the song draws to a close, and another takes its place. Regretfully, Dean pulls away from the embrace, already missing it. But Cas is yawning again, and it's beyond late. They share a glance, and Cas nods: time to leave.

As they stumble out of the room, smiling and swaying into each other, Dean is entirely too wrapped up in his husband to notice much else. He misses Crowley climbing up on a table, microphone in hand, while Ash chases after him; Jo and Charlie laughing together in a corner, sketching something ominous-looking on the floor; Benny and Meg causing some sort of loud chaos by the bar; Claire and Jack teaching Emma TikTok dances at the edge of the dance floor. He will hear all these stories later, with incredible exaggeration and embellishment. For now, all he cares about is Cas.

The walk back to their room should be short, but they keep stopping, every few steps. First, it's Cas kissing Dean's cheek, a short peck that shouldn't steal Dean's breath the way it does. And Dean can't let that go unanswered, so he kisses Cas's nose in a near-taunt. Cas retaliates by pressing a line of kisses to Dean's jawline, and then Dean can't take it anymore. He pulls Cas close and kisses him soundly, with all the love that's been building and building in him since he first caught sight of Cas at their ceremony, haloed by sunlight and shining with joy. Sure, they've kissed countless times today, but it will never be enough for all the love he holds, overflowing and pouring into every action he takes. The dam he'd built to protect that love so long ago has been cracking since he first met Cas, and now not a trace of it remains. He's free.

When they separate, the raw emotion on Cas's face is enough to take Dean's breath away.

"I love you," Cas says, and Dean closes his eyes, takes a steadying breath. It still seizes him sometimes, the memory of that beautiful face, damp with tears, disappearing into a black nothingness. Fear wraps its cold fist around his heart, the vise worse than any attack Billie sent his way, and he grips Cas tighter, anchoring himself. Cas is still here, and nothing is going to take this away from them. They're allowed to be happy. This is real.

"I love you too," Dean whispers, and Cas's answering smile is enough to quiet any remaining fears. Their fingers entwine, and they walk on together.

But when Dean reaches out to open their door, Cas places a gentle hand on his wrist.

"Wait," he says, head tilting.

"Hmm?" Dean starts to ask, but then he's being swept up in a pair of strong, warm arms. He shouts (he does not shriek) and grabs onto Cas's neck. Holy shit he's still strong. "What the fuck?"

Cas's eyes glitter with amusement, and a small smirk is tugging at his lips.

"Is it not traditional to carry your spouse across the threshold?"

Dean snorts and buries his face in Cas's neck to hide his blush.

"You callin' me your wife?" he grumbles into Cas's skin, reveling in the shivers he receives in response.

"If you truly wish to be limited by heteronormative gender roles, I will put you down. Otherwise, I am carrying my husband, who I love with all that I am, across our threshold." There's an audible smirk in Cas's voice, which is hot as hell. And, fuck, Dean's been hearing it all night, but being Cas's husband will never get old. What on earth can he say to that?

"Okay," he manages to croak out.

"Well then," Cas says, shouldering open the door, "welcome home, husband."

Dean almost opens his mouth to protest that this hotel room isn't exactly home, but then he catches sight of Cas's smile, and that train of thought halts in its tracks. Cas is here. Right now, it is home.

Cas, of course, is still Cas, so he takes advantage of Dean's distraction to dump him on the bed. And Dean is still Dean, so he pulls Cas down after him, both of them twisted up and laughing freely.

"We should really sleep," Dean says halfheartedly, suppressing a yawn. His hands are still tangled in Cas's jacket.

"Mmm," and Cas kisses the corner of his mouth. When he draws back, he has one eyebrow raised, and he looks so serious it nearly sends Dean into a fit of laughter. "To be continued?"

"Tomorrow," Dean promises, because they have nothing but time, and he seals the deal with a kiss.

When they make it into the tiny bathroom, they squish in beside each other at the sink, and they giggle like giddy teenagers every time their elbows knock. They brush their teeth in near-unison, grinning every time their eyes meet in the mirror. Toothpaste drips from Dean's mouth, but he can't stop smiling, especially when Cas lifts his left hand and lets his ring catch the light. After a few seconds of breathless adoration (they're married, Cas is his husband, he married an actual angel) Dean imitates the motion. He places his hand over Cas's so their rings tap with a quiet clink. They share an awestruck look in the mirror, and Dean lets the peace of the moment wash over him. This is real, he reminds himself. We're real. And the warmth of it carries him all the way into their shared bed.

"Hey," he whispers, nose to nose with his husband, limbs tangling.

"Hello," Cas whispers back, his amusement palpable even in the darkness.

"We're married," Dean says wonderingly.

"We're married," Cas echoes, voice heavy with emotion. He leans in, and kisses Dean in a way that can only be called reverent. His hands shake where they brush Dean's skin, and Dean catches them to still their quaking.

"We get to have this, Cas," he says softly, punctuating his statement with a kiss to Cas's knuckles. "For the rest of our lives."

"For far longer than that," Cas corrects. Dean breathes in, and pulls his husband close.

"Forever," he agrees, and lets himself succumb to sweet, dreamless sleep.

#destiel wedding #spn fic #destiel #destiel fic #deancas #listen listen i am the type of person who falls asleep immediately after big events and i am projecting #they are soft and in love and married!!!! they're husbands!!!#i couldn't make it clear but they did get married outdoors and it did snow on them the reception is just indoors for safety

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happy-pencil · 4 years

Text

Infirmos Caritate

Warning: Mentions of Violence, Non-Con and Mild Spice. You have been warned!

Darkness.

That seemed to be the first thing you’ve gained conscious of before you awoke to the sight of a cold, dim-lit room.

The more you blinked, your eyes started to adjust to your surroundings. You were placed carefully on a soft white bed. To your side, you saw a desk with books and papers scattered on it. The walls, by the looks of it, were gritty and pale. One wall by the bedside had various of plants & trinkets inside mason jars that were placed on top of the shelf. The room itself smelled faintly aquatic, like you were visiting a beach.

You tried to sit up and observe the room you were in before you felt a sharp pain on the right side of your torso. Hissing, you lifted up your crinkled shirt to see large bandages covering over waist. By the looks of it, you also caught note of the bandages that were wrapped around your wrists and forehead. Whoever put you in this room, they made sure to treat you with the upmost care.

To add on, this wasn’t your bedroom was it?

Who put you in their bedroom?

Why were you in their bedroom?

Before you could begin to comprehend the situation, the door suddenly creaked open letting in yellow florescent light onto the floor and to the bed where you were laying at. A large shadow took up almost the entire door frame, barely making it possible to see any light that would’ve entered the room. It seemed to be the figure of a tall man. The one thing that struck out to you was the one shimmering gold light that was twinkling in the darkness where the shadow-man’s face, or eye, was.

The man then started to speak.

“Good Morning. I see you’ve started to wake up.”

You recognized that voice.

The ‘Shadow-Man’, to your horror, was none other than Jade Leech: The Vice President of Octavinelle & the infamous twin of Floyd Leech.

Jade’s a mastermind at both intimidation & manipulation; and he knew it too well. On the outside, he presents himself to be nothing but a gentleman of sorts; always using his charisma and witty thinking to help aid him in the Lounge or with Azul’s contracts.

However, once someone hasn’t fulfilled one of Azul’s deals, a switch seems to flip. That gentlemanly persona of his gets thrown out the window, showcasing a ruthless and feral sadist. Heaven forbid if you ever try and betray him. Jade would love nothing more than for you to go through hell and back just to torture you for his sick pleasure. Once he was done toying with you he would drown you in the ocean, never to resurface again.

It wasn’t like you and Jade were exactly ‘buddy-buddy’ with each other. The two of you barely ever talked face to face. When you did speak with him however, he made it very obvious that you were nothing but another anemone for his personal entertainment. He wasn’t like Floyd by any means. But they both always got a kick out of seeing you struggle with tasks Crowley would set up for you. Even if he was suppose to be the more “polite” twin.

With a man like Jade, you begin to wonder why on Earth you were in his room.

Maybe you just passed out and he was kind enough to lend his bed. You pondered.

Your eyes were then drawn to your wounds.

But you had bandages.

Bandages.

…

Did you get into a fight with him?

The thought of getting into a physical argument with the ‘timid’ Leech Twin filled you with horror. There would’ve been no way you could even beat his ass to the ground, especially with the major height difference between the two of you.

To tell you the truth, it would’ve been hilarious to have witness a tiny non-magical human try and fight a 6′3 merman.

You almost chuckled at the thought, but then another dreary thought popped into your mind.

What if you got in a fight with Jade and he wasn’t done-

His deep honeyed voice clears out into the dark room. The voice leaves you startled as you almost forgot the merman was standing at the door frame in that moment.

Jade turned on the lights & gently shuts the door behind him.

“How are you feeling? Your covered head to tail–head to foot in bruises and scratches. I hope you didn’t mind me patching you up while you were unconscious.”

Jade chuckles at his humorless joke as he puts away his fedora he was wearing from his shift at the Monstro Lounge. He pulls up a chair next to his bed and sits next to your weakened form. You then start to ask him where you were, which he responded to your answer that you were in the Octavinelle dormitory & were resting in his dorm room.

You almost asked him why you were in his room but the moment he sits down next to you, the heavy scent of ocean breeze and copper filled your nostrils. Confused, you tried sitting up to look for the source of the scent but Jade gently pushes you back down.

“Oya oya, Please don’t strain yourself. It would be best if you just laid down a bit. Whatever is the matter?”

You turn to fully look at Jade to ask him why you were in his room-

Until you saw his uniform.

His dormitory clothes, unlike his usual groomed-self, was ragged and crinkled like he was hard at work doing another one of his ‘tasks’. His bow tie was almost undone and his hair was frizzled and unkempt like his twin brother’s.

However, there was one detail that stuck out to you that made you paler than the ghosts that resided in your dormitory. Thick red blood stains, to your horror, drenched his black dormitory coat & some parts of his scarf & gloves. You wanted to believe that it was substance other than blood, but you knew better from how metallic it smelled.

Jade’s expression was calm and reassuring; as a tender smile was graced on his lips. But you knew from the way he stared you down something dangerous lied in those gold & olive heterochromic eyes. His presence at that moment made you sick to your very core.

You knew something wasn’t right and you assumed the worse:

He wasn’t done fighting you yet.

But you would like to ask if he was alright out of concern. Maybe if you play dumb you could get out of this. It would be a risk taker, but you could only see what happens.

Jade followed your sickened gaze to his clothes to which he pointed out the blood stains on his uniform.

“Ah, the blood?”

With a million thoughts and scenarios going through your head, you ask the merman if he was alright & if he needed any of his wounds treated.

He smiles stretches ever so slightly as he chuckles again, catching you off guard for the millionth time that evening.

“…I’m fine. I feel humbled to know that you show concern for me. But I’m afraid the blood isn’t mine.”

You gasp and you face becomes ghastly.

You started to ask if the both of you got into a fight and apologized for anything stupid that you started with him before you passed out. He lets out a laugh to add onto your horror.

It was starting to become harder to breath in that moment.

Before you could even get an answer to who’s blood was on his coat, Jade clasps his large hand over you mouth. He shushes you quietly and puts an index finger up to his lips.

“Quiet down now. Some of our dorm members are asleep at this time. It would be rude to wake them up at this hour.”

Calming down for a moment he releases his hand over your mouth. You apologize for spewing nonsense at Jade and asked him to tell you what happened while you were unconscious. There could be a million reasons why Jade has got blood on him. You hoped and prayed that it wasn’t for your stupidity or for any malicious intentions. You could only hope.

Maybe you were a free bird-!

You snap out of your thoughts and turn to Jade- to which he gives you a puzzled glance.

“…What happened? Don’t you remember, prefect-san?”

Shaking your head ‘no’, Jade sighs quietly as he begins to tell you his tale.

“Last night while you and your friends were at the Lounge, I happened to stumble upon a few certain anemones that just so happened to be visiting today. They were the ones giving you trouble a while back during the Scarabia incident, yes?”

You thought back to what happened yesterday as the memories slowly started to pop up in your mind.

You were visiting the Monstro Lounge that evening after Deuce’s Track & Field practice with himself, Grim, Ace & Jack. You remember seeing the Scarabia students you encountered before Jamil’s Overblotting incident during your stay. As it turns out, they were still pretty upset with what happened back in the past and they wanted a “rematch”, in their words.

With this in mind, you slowly nod at this information allowing Jade to continue further onto the story.

“Grim saw them and tried to insinuate a fight, which ended rather horribly. You tried to break up the fight, but you got knocked out along with Deuce-san.”

Your memory starts to become clearer and your eyes widen.

Grim.

Oh how you wanted to bite that little twerp’s head right off. If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be here with Jade & Deuce wouldn’t have been hurt. You made a mental note that he was going to get his punishment as soon as you healed back up. No more tuna for him for a month.

You nodded in agreement once more & Jade continues.

“It was so terrible that Azul asked for me and Floyd to step in. I had to escort the men out of the Lounge and properly dispose of them. Needless to say they won’t be giving you anymore trouble from here on out.”

Jade smiles in content. You didn’t really want to question why he was smiling at that moment.

“I must say, they did put up quiet a fight. But they didn’t even land a scratch on me since Floyd was there to help.”

He looked like he wanted to say more but he stopped himself. He continued when he had found the words he needed to say. He must’ve wanted to go more into depth about the corpses he mutilated- not that he wanted to tell you, but was in fear of your scared reaction. (He wouldn’t mind but he would like to keep you close Prefect-san (; ).

“Once we got back, I offered to let you rest in my room until you’ve awaken and were back to your well-being.”

Jade finishes telling you what happen as you get lost in your thoughts. With this newly found information, you just feel so…

Confused.

Why the hell would some merman that had no business butting into your fight get that physical with those students? For sure, Azul had told him and Floyd to take care of those same students as they were in the Monsto Lounge wanting to fight.

You briefly remember back when Jade and Floyd had to take care of the Scarabia students when you crashed into their dorm a few nights before Jamil’s incident. Other than the occasional bruises or marks he or Floyd left on the students, they never got physical to the point where they got bloody. Though maybe with the exception of Floyd because he’s insanely moody and unpredictable.

You weren’t positive for sure.

You decide to ask Jade why he would even bother to go into all of that trouble just for some silly fight. Jade seemed to tense up the moment you asked & repeated your question in conformation.

“…Why go through all of the trouble?”

You nodded. He remained silent before letting out another deep chuckle in amusement.

“Well, I thought it was obvious, prefect-san.”

…Huh?

Your eyes widen.

What was obvious?

“From the moment I laid eyes on you, I felt my chest being tugged towards you.”

You were starting to feel scared and it was becoming harder to breath in his room. From the sounds of it, he talked about you like you were an infection. Jade carries on his one-sided conversation leaving you to process what he was all saying.

“At first, I ignored the feeling; believing that it was annoyance I was feeling towards you. But as the days progressed I suddenly became more and more invested in you to the point where you occupied my thoughts almost entirely. Truly irritating if I might add,”

He pauses and looks at you to see any response or reaction you might have. You, of course, looked somewhat confused and worried.

You didn’t know if you were going to get out of his bedroom alive or not.

Jade continues.

“-However, I must blame you for some of the effects you have on me. My heart speeds up whenever I hear the sound of your voice. It’s so soothing- so…refreshing,”

…

…oh…

…OH.

Your face heats up.

You knew where this was going & you were nervous.

His face, while calm, you could tell how delirious the eel merman was by just his smile alone. The more he seemed to talk about you, the more his grin grew to reveal those sharp shark-like teeth. He slowly started to become in a dream-like daze the more fixated he was about his feelings over you.

The fact that Jade could ever be daydreaming made you shake a bit.

Was he trying to confess his love for you?

…

…Pfft! No! Of course not! There’s no way~!

But he seemed to be serious about his current feelings for you.

Then again, you weren’t sure if this was another one of his tasks Azul had him do. With Jade, or Floyd, they were both unpredictable. But you knew damn well that this wasn’t the Jade you knew.

“-And you’re always so feisty. Who knew that the school’s only magic-less student could have such courage? You were always unpredictable when you were talking to fellow students or handling certain issues. You always left me wondering what you were going to do next.”

Jade paused again before discussing more in detail his enamored passion for you. His voice lowered ever so slightly as he mumbled. It would’ve been soothing to hear had he not said what he was going to say next.

“I’ve started to follow you around to see what your schedule is like on and off campus grounds,”

Your heart stopped and your blood turned cold.

…What was he doing?

“I would check your Magicam account every-so-often to see if you would post anything new. I got to say, you looked…irresistible in your last post. Why, I could just eat you up.”

Jade chuckled at his last sentence and you became much more alarmed. Being uncomfortable around Jade at this moment would’ve been the understatement of the year. You were so uncomfortable that you couldn’t help but give a nervous laugh yourself; whether or not Jade seemed to notice, you didn’t really care.

He then sighed and brought himself back to reality after daydreaming.

“-But this school is filled to the brim with sharks just wanting to eat you alive after all. I was only trying to ensure you safety by getting rid of those perpetrators. You’re just so delicate and small, it was hard to not defend you right there and then. Not to mention cute~” He purred.

“I was barely lucky enough to have brought you to my dorm room with Azul’s & the Headmaster’s permission,”

He then stopped the conversation and turned to you, as your face revealed to be shocked and displeased. Concerned, he raised his bloody gloved hand to caress your cheek gently. It felt cold to the touch as it made you shiver.

You had no absolutely idea Jade felt this way towards you, and you weren’t sure if you should’ve accepted his “confession” or not. It would’ve been a wholesome moment between the two of you had he not brought up his stalking habit to you.

Maybe if he worded it differently, there would’ve been a different outcome. Or maybe even wait a little longer to confess? You weren’t sure, you were too shocked to even comprehend what you wanted to do.

You were in pain from the fight that had occurred earlier and now that Jade has brought his feelings about you into light, it just made you feel overstimulated. You knew in your heart, however, that Jade was in the wrong for hurting those students like he did and he needed to know that whether or not he was aware of it. Jade starts to question your feelings on the matter.

“…You look upset. Are you unsatisfied?”

After zoning out from his touch, you take his hand off your cheek and found the words you needed to say.

He didn’t need to hurt those students.

“…I didn’t need to hurt them?”

You nodded. He thought for a moment but quickly responded to your statement.

“Ah, but I’m afraid there was no other way around it.”

“Even if I tried to confront those idiotic fingerlings peacefully, they still would’ve gone out of their way to hurt you afterwards. So I made sure to put them in place. Permanently.”

Permanently.

He said that last word with venom and it made you churn anxiously. You weren’t positive is that meant the Scarabia students were dead or alive by how vague he sounded. By how Jade talks about them, he sounds like they were either dead or that he wanted them left for dead.

Either result frightened you to no end.

“It took everything in me to not tie them down and drown them in the darkest depths of the ocean.”

He’s only ever mentioned that once before when it was established that Jade was not to be tampered with.

He kept going on and on, and the more he talked, the more dreadful you felt.

So you decided you wanted to break free and get out of his room and back to your own. You needed to find Grim and your friends and get away from this…weirdo.

So you thought about trying to leave.

Not wanting to stay in Jade’s room anymore, you thanked him for patching you up and looking after you and tried getting up. Not remembering the pain you felt when you first tried to get up, you immediately collapsed back onto Jade’s bed.

Jade tilted his head in confusion.

“…Where do you think you are you going?”

You told Jade that you needed to know where Grim and the others where, as you would like to see them at that moment.

You needed someone there other than Jade.

“Oh? Your friends?”

You nodded.

“I’m afraid they’re not here right now,” Jade stated.

“Floyd and Azul are keeping them busy while you relax for a bit. It’s only for the best.”

That bit of info only made your anxiety worsen.

You knew that things would get out of hand if you left your friends with Floyd and Azul. You weren’t feeling too good and you needed to find them. Now.

As if he was a mind reader, Jade seemed to have caught on to what you were wanting to do.

“You weren’t thinking about leaving in this state, were you?”

You hesitated in that second and told him ‘no’ as you begun to sit up properly by fighting back the pain you were in. You told Jade that your worries would be at ease if you went to see how your friends were doing, especially with Deuce being knocked out.

You went to stand up once more but Jade quickly, and roughly pushed you back onto the bed; his arms and hands pushing down on you shoulders making the pain worsen.

“Ah Ah Ah, Angelfish, back to bed for now. I can’t have you leave while in this state. It would be inappropriate. Not that I would mind~”

Growing aggravated, you told Jade to knock it off as you tried to push him off of you, but he was keen on keeping you in place. You told Jade that there was something wrong and that you needed to see your friends immediately. Jade now started to get annoyed with your behavior and gave an irritated sigh .

“Must you be this stubborn? I told you they were with Floyd and Azul.”

You wouldn’t take that as an answer.

You would be damned if something bad where to happen to your friends.

You then started to wriggle out of Jade’s grasps, causing him to grow more frustrated. He started to raised his voice at you.

“Angelfish. Back. To. Bed. I insist-!”

A harsh ‘SMACK’ echoed through the room. Jade stopped trying to fight you as he lifted his hand to feel the stinging sensation you have made across his face. He was in a state of shock and completely became silent; almost motionless.

As creepy as it was in that moment, it gave you the chance to escape from his grasps.

You pushed Jade out of your field of vision and started to make your way towards the bedroom door. As painful as it was to even get off the bed and make a run for it, you were determined to get the hell out of Octavinelle’s dormitory and back into your own. You would have Crowley look into this issue, regardless of whether or not he actually wanted to.

You made it to the door and were just about to put your hand on the door handle when Jade suddenly cooed out ‘Angelfish~’; his honeyed voice sounding more eerie and cold like a harsh blizzard.

Not wanting to turn around, you felt Jade harshly clasp a hand over your mouth and pick your entire body up. You kicked and tried to scream- even trying to bite his hand, but Jade would not budge one bit. As determined as you were to get to the door, he was damn-near persistent that you were to stay in his room. For however long, you weren’t sure nor did you want to know.

If this was a dream, you’d wish you would wake up.

But you could’ve only beg for mercy in that moment as Jade tosses you back onto his mattress. This time, he decided to get on top of you and bound your hands onto his headboard with his tie. He then moved his hand over to his bandstand and pulled out yet another tie and ties it around your mouth, somewhat silencing your screams. Once finished, he stares down at you with satisfaction.

You both knew you couldn’t get out.

Chuckling once more, Jade leans down to give you a quick peck on the cheek as he caresses your face.

“You know, I find it very inconsiderate to slap someone that happened to save you from such a dreadful incident.”

Jade says that to himself thoughtfully as he stared down at you with hungry eyes.

Even if he didn’t say it, but to him, you looked simply delicious. He wanted to savor his meal as much as he could in that moment without too much interruption or distractions. He just hoped that you would be just as eager to please him like he was about to do to you. In that moment it was made obvious that he was the predator and you were his prey.

In Jade’s eyes, you needed to be punished. You were being ungrateful to him for saving your life from those students. Without him there, you would’ve already been dead, would’ve you? He did all of this for you and you didn’t even thank him once!

Jade starts to speak up.

“They could’ve killed you the moment you lied on the floor unconscious without me there to get rid of those vile guppies, wouldn’t you agree?”

His powerful, icicle voice becomes a soft whisper as Jade then started to kiss your face and make his way down to your neck and collarbone; occasionally leaving a few playful nips with his jagged teeth. The feeling makes you moan and wreath in pain. Jade’s grin widens in victory.

This wasn’t happening.

This has to be a dream-!

“So at least give me some appraisal for my hard work, if you would be so kind.”

You could feel his breath against your pulse as he bites down rather harshly on your neck. You let out a whine and try to squirm away from Jade, but he keeps you in place. His hands were starting to wonder and roam all inches of your body and even in places no other man has touched. You could feel a bulge start to form in Jade’s crotch area as you teared up.

Jade caught wind of this and grinned wickedly.

“Unless, you have other means of showing appraisal?~”

You screamed.

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

#tw: yandere #tw: murder #I had to reupload ;-;#it wasn't showing my posts #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #yandere jade leech #jade leech #jade leech x reader

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cannebady · 4 years

Text

An obligatory Good Omens New Year’s Eve ficlet. Enjoy!

Here on AO3!

I realized that I need you, and I wondered if I could come home

It ended up bring a surprise visit. With the lockdowns continuing through most of the year, Aziraphale had been stubbornly dedicated to leading by example and had refused Crowley on several occasions when he’d offered to keep him company. It was the right decision, Crowley supposed. While neither angel nor demon could get sick or transmit it to others, humans were always looking for a loophole to skirt the rules and, although Crowley would usually go out of his way to encourage them, this was starting to remind him all too much of his least favorite centuries so he didn’t push too hard.

The other benefit, was that the distance pushed Aziraphale to actually use the mobile Crowley had bought him months before all hell (side eye heavily implied) broke loose, which allowed them to communicate almost constantly. As it turns out, alcohol and texting really can be revealing and they’d continued to move, albeit at a glacial pace, towards something more.

This is all, however, a moot point because Crowley woke up on the 31st of December and immediately thought, “Ah, fuck it.” He donned his mask (not that he needs it, but it sets a good example and is a solid Look™) and drove on over to Soho to surprise an angel.

When he knocked at the bookshop door, he could already feel the air of displeasure coming from inside. He smirked, only visible by the crinkling at the corner of one eye. Lockdowns had allowed Aziraphale’s already shoddy business hours to become almost nonexistent, something the angel had nearly unbridled joy for.

When the door opened, he had to rein in actual tears of relief. He knew he missed Aziraphale something fierce, but actually seeing him made the wreck of Crowley’s heart swell and squeeze in a way he wasn’t used to.

Donning a pearlescent white mask that was very likely not of this world in origin, storm blue eyes connected with his and Crowley was warmed through to see the same, lovely, overwhelmed feeling mirrored back to him.

“My dear,” Aziraphale had whispered, looking Crowley over, “what are you doing here? It isn’t safe!”

Crowley, tired of waiting on the step while they goggled at each other, pushed inside while Aziraphale closed the door, locking it for good measure. “Well hello to you too, angel. Long time, no see.”

He snapped his fingers to place his mask in a pocket universe (he’s a bit embarrassed to admit that his earthly pockets wouldn’t exactly hold much more than his fingertips) and took care of Aziraphale’s as well.

“Crowley, we discussed this! I miss you terribly, of course I do, but we can’t just go breaking the rules willy-nilly!”

A year ago Crowley would’ve rolled his eyes at “willy-nilly”, but right now? Well, right now he’s so entranced he can’t breathe, never mind scoff.

“Angel-” He breaks off because there’s so much he wants to say, but Aziraphale is beautiful. He’s known it since Eden, but this is the longest they’ve gone without seeing each other in quite some time and he’s obsessing over the few extra inches of white blonde curls, not to mention the couple of extra inches on well-fed hips (courtesy of quarantine baking and fewer walks in parks, and for that Crowley would just like to say thank you), that are both likely to send Crowley into hysterics if he thinks about them too long.

“M’sorry angel, I just-” he sighs, “I know it’s wrong I just couldn’t wait longer. I can go, if you’d like.” He looks down, he’s not as sure that Aziraphale will kick him out as he once had been, but that doesn’t mean that he wants to watch it happen.

What he misses, is the very obvious once-over Aziraphale gives to his messy, much longer, curls and the longing look that speaks to ages of desire to cross those last few feet between them.

“Nonsense, my dear. You’re right, we cannot make this worse and you took precautions.” Crowley lifts his eyes to meet Aziraphale’s and is met with a brilliant smile. “And, of course, I am so happy to see you dearest.”

Dearest. Aziraphale called him that sometimes via text but this is the first time he’d heard it out loud. He was more attached to it than he’d like to examine.

“Well, in that case, I believe the humans have a tradition on this day that involves both day drinking and regular drinking.” He miracles a few choice vintages and a lovely bottle of Whispering Angel, because he’s still an arsehole sometimes, onto the table in the back room.

“If it’s tradition I suppose we must.” Aziraphale says with a smirk that’s not angelic at all.

Perhaps, Crowley thinks as Aziraphale leads him back to the squashy, infernally comfortable couch in the back room, this year may just end better than it started.

It’s been hours. They made it through Crowley’s initial bottles and have moved on decidedly to Aziraphale’s own, not inconsiderable, reserves. They’re encroaching on drunken territory they haven’t traversed since Armageddon first fell on their radar but this time, it’s so much better.

They’re laughing wildly while Aziraphale recounts, with requisite demonstrations, how he learned the gavotte and Crowley’s laughing so hard that his stomach hurts. He’s warm, and they’re safe together, and Aziraphale has a lovely blush high on his cheeks and Crowley’s sure he has the same, and he can’t remember being this happy for a long, long time.

“And, and-,” the angel trails off for a moment, “I couldn’t quite remember which way to turn,” he pantomimes turning in a graceless circle, “so I just, well, I rather tumbled directly into a bookshelf and realized I’d imbibed a bit too much.”

He looks at Crowley pointedly while he tries to smother a cackle. “You know, it’s not entirely dissimilar to now. I fear I’m quite completely rat-arsed.”

Crowley’s control breaks and he laughs loud and long while Aziraphale blushes more and then joins him, because they’re both completely arseholed and they have been during every century since the Beginning.

A glance at the clock shows it’s only a short time until the clock ticks over into the next year and a pit forms in Crowley’s stomach. He doesn’t want to lose this easy camaraderie and the soft love he’s feeling (it is love, he’s known it for a long time, and has accepted it for long enough) and he isn’t sure if he’ll be permitted to stay. There’s also a part of him that, for several decades now, has dreamed about employing another human tradition surrounding New Year’s Eve, but he’s even less sure of its welcome.

Aziraphale catches his eyeline and looks towards the old grandfather clock, obviously seeing the change is Crowley’s bright disposition.

“Not long now, it would seem.” He says quietly.

“Not long at all and we’ll be singing Auld Lang Syne and bidd-”, Crowley stops, his throat choking up.

“And what, dear?” Aziraphale thinks he knows where this was headed. Thinks he knows that the complicated string of emotions is on Crowley’s beloved face. He thinks he might just see everything he wants in arms reach of taking.

Crowley’s eyes are fully yellow, goldenrod and gorgeous, dark with drink or something more when he looks up to meet Aziraphale’s own. “I-, angel. Would I, ngk, what would you say if I stayed for a bit? Kept you company?”

He drops his head down again. Aziraphale hates that he looks like he’s bracing for bad news. Perhaps he has not done as well as he thought in letting Crowley know that the door was wide open now. Frankly off its hinges. Perhaps it’s time for extraordinary measures.He closes the distance between them, sitting next to the demon on the couch.

“Dearest, I think I’d like nothing more.” He reaches out and cups Crowley’s sharp jaw, tilting his head so that he can look into those stunning eyes again. He runs his thumb along his cheekbone and hears the sharp inhale.

This is the most skin-to-skin contact they’ve had since the Roman baths (there was an awkward side hug at one point that Crowley thought may actually discorporate him). But now, the simple contact of those soft, plump fingers on his jaw and his cheek are about to send him to his maker.

“Angel,” he reaches up and lays his hand over Aziraphale’s. Little to their knowledge, they’ve begun a countdown all their own. “are you sure?”

“I’m positive darling. Let me show you.” Aziraphale responds, allowing his thump to dip and run along Crowley’s luscious bottom lip. “Can I show you?”

“Please, angel”, Crowley nearly sobs and kind, giving, gracious Aziraphale takes a brief inhale of his own before laying his lips against the demon’s.

Crowley’s never really done this before. Sure there were humans here and there that thought to lay one on him, but he’s never taken the time to think about it. Why are lips so bloody sensitive? He thinks before he stops possessing higher order functioning and has only a mind to get Aziraphale closer, right the fuck now.

He reaches out and drags his hands down Aziraphale’s arms (both angelic hands now buried in his hair), delighting at the honest to God whimper he gets in response, and lets one hand tangle in ice blonde curls longer than he’s ever seen them, and lets the other drift from shoulder to waist, and finally to land on an ample hip that fits so perfectly into his hand that he thinks he might cry.

Their lips refuse to part and before long it’s gone from gently exploratory, to open and hot, tongues running along lips, tangling together, allowing them to taste each other for the first time.

They break apart briefly, speaking so close that each word is a sweet caress on the other’s lips; a placeholder while they work out their thoughts.

Aziraphale takes it upon himself to take the plunge here too, “I love you. I have loved you for so long that I don’t know what it is not to love you. I fear I was quiet for too long, but I will no longer abide. I will tell you I love you each time I think about how much I love you, until you’re sick to death of hearing it.”

While breathing is an option for both, Crowley is nearly hyperventilating. He thought, perhaps, Aziraphale may think of trying something with him. May even want to try out some more, erm, intimate, acts with him as the angel is always in such a rage for pleasure. But he never guessed that the haunting, creation-long devotion he felt would be reciprocated in the same way.

“Oh angel, I love you. I met you on the wall of Eden and thought ‘Oh, what’s that in my chest?’ and realized they didn’t take my heart when I Fell. I’m yours, if you’ll have me, if you’ll be mine as well.”

“Dearest, I’ve been yours for some time now.” And then words really aren’t important any more as Crowley lunges, pushing Aziraphale back into the squashy couch and running his hands over his coveted softness while angelic hands map his neck and his back and, Christ, his arse.

While the world nervously looks to a new year for peace and solice, two celestial beings have found it, at long last, right at home.

#Good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #ineffable husbands fic #good omens ficlet #crowley #aziraphale #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #new year's eve fic #sayonara 2020

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