#please oh almighty god let this work

[patches-and-her-selfships]

IT”S F/O TOURNAMENT TIME BITCHESSSSSS (sans monty cause he’s a loser /joking)

(closes at 7:30 p.m. est, whoever wins gets a drawing of me smooching them btw)

MAKE THEM FIGHT TO THE DEATH

[teddybeartoji]

this could work for bf! satoru or snow leopard! satoru but i feel like he'd be REALLY into omorashi... stay with me here.

idk how he discovered that he was into it but GREAT GOD ALMIGHTY 😫

just imagining him curled up into you quivering out of desperation. you have a steady hand on him (conveniently placed where his bladder is) to hold him in place. poor thing has tears in his eyes, just begging you to let him go already (but we both know he doesn't mean it)

satoru has never looked more gorgeous to you

he's more than capable of overpowering you to leave and properly relieve himself, but god, does it feel good to be at your mercy (or rather lack of )

his desperation just gets worse the closer he gets. he just NEEDS to relieve himself somehow, so he proceeds to beg you to have your mouth on his. this time around, you decide to be a little nice and listen to his pleas. and god he just melts.

It's so damn messy, but neither of you can get enough of it. satoru is drooling everywhere and moaning into it. idk how, but he managed to sound even cuter than before.

neither of you care to pull back for air, and the lack of it gets to satoru's head as he feels a wave of warm and pure bliss wash over him.

or maybe it was something else........

YEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH GRAY I NEED TO KISS YOU SUPER ULTRA SLOPPY STYLE HOLY FUCKKKK I'M GONNA GO WITH OUR LITTLE LEOPARD AGAIN BC FUCCCKKKKKKKKKK IT'S SO FUCKING HOTT

18+ mdni; snow leopard!gojo x gn!reader + piss kink

sitting on his big thighs, you jerk him off with your one hand while the other presses down on his bladder. he squirming, his hips can't stay still underneath you and he just looks so pretty like this. he throws his arm over his face in desperation and your heart swells at the sight of his exposed neck. purple and red marks litter his marble skin - they look like they belong there. he's whimpering and mewling like the baby that he is and he loves it so fucking much.

"need to go. i really– need to go." you can hear the pout and it makes you want to push him even further. the tip of his cock is so fucking pink and swollen, pre-cum leaks from the slit and your mouth salivates at the thought of taking him down your throat. his tail thumps and swings in the air from all of the excitement and his fuzzy little ears twitch uncontrollably.

"yeah?"

you sound so mean and he fucking loves it. you're not concerned abt him – no, no fucking way. you want to push him further and further. you want to break him. you swipe at his leaking slit with your thumb and watch his fangs sink down into his plump lower lip. his hips lift a mere inch from the bed but you push him back down with ease.

the leopard peeks from under his arm, his teary eyes observe you as you punish and torture him with a toothy, proud grin. the slick sounds from your hand steadily pumping him fill the room alongside with the mewls that keep bubbling up his throat.

the pressure in his stomach keeps getting stronger and stronger and he knows he really can't hold it in any longer. his slender fingers wrap around your wrist, gently pulling at you to get your attention.

"please– fuck. i can't– i can't hold it, i'm sorry." oh, his eyes are so beautiful like this. his flushed cheeks are stained from the tears that have already spilled from the corners of his eyes and his lips wobble so desperately.

"don't be sorry, baby. just go."

he can't tell whether you're joking or not, but he's getting so fucking close that he really doesn't have the time to figure you out either. you tighten your fingers around him and shimmy yourself down his legs, bending yourself closer to his cock. never taking your hand from his lower stomach, you slowly but surely add even more pressure on his bladder to finally convince, to force, him to let go.

his fingers dig into your wrist but he doesn't push or pull – he's making sure that you won't take your hand off of him. his eyes are even wider now, his curiosity is eating him alive. what do you mean by 'just go'? he watches your smile stretch even wider, even further, as you rest your head on his thigh. your breath fans his dick and he shudders at the sensation. fuck, he really can't hold it anymore.

tears spill from his lashlines, his pretty angel eyes, and you press a kiss to his base. you feel him twitch in your hand, you feel his tail whip at your back. he can't control it. he's about to burst.

more pressure. his eyes roll back into his head and his ears twitch again. you squeeze his tip and kiss down his sensitive balls.

"i— "

he has never sounded this broken. his breath hitches in his throat and his nails are beginning to leave little dents in your skin. his other hand finds your cheeks, but it doesn't stay there. his fingers push through your hair until they stop at the back of your head, pushing you closer into him. your nose brushes at his soft skin and fuck – he feels you smile against his balls. he can't do it, he can't do it, he can't do it.

"give it to me, angel."

his eyes finds yours just as your lips part and wrap around his swollen tip. he can't look away. his balls contract as he stares at you. his face is red as a tomato and he's panting as if he's about to fucking die.

he is about to die. your mouth is so warm around him, your tongue is so wet and this whole situation is just too fucking much. you lower your head and bury him deeper inside your throat. saliva drips from the corners of your mouth and his hips buck up, making you gag on him so deliciously.

when you try to pull away, the hand resting on the back of your head stops you. humming around him, he bucks his hips again. his head lolls back onto the pillow and his back arches – he looks gorgeous. pressing further down on his tummy, you prepare for what's coming.

his tail thumps fervently beside you and his whole body twitches. a broken moan spills from his lips and warm liquid fills your mouth and throat. tears form in the corners of your eyes from the suffocating feeling but you surpress the need to pull away. you want him to feel good. he's your baby after all.

you press down on his tummy a little more, intent on getting every drop out of him. he feels so good, it feels like heaven. you feel like heaven, your mouth. the sight of you only makes him more insane – your own tears, the spit and piss trickling from your lips. your eyes. they twinkle up at him, so determined, so focused on taking care of him.

you gag again and tap on his thigh to let him know that you need air and he immediately removes his hand but keeps it on your cheek as you pull off of him with a loud gasp. piss dribbles down your chin and neck and satoru thinks he's going to pass out. you take a deep breath in but waste no time diving back in. he caresses your soft skin as you wrap your lips around him once more, letting your mouth fill with the liquid again.

he's so fucking in love with you.

everything is so messy. piss soaks the bedsheets below him and spit coats his heavy balls. a bead of sweat rolls from his temple and his hands shake. his fuzzy tail wraps around your middle as you drink him up like he's the only thing that could satiate your thirst. taking your hand off his tummy, you bring it down to his balls. you massage and fondle them only to watch your big cat sink even deeper into the bed. your smile widens as you kiss his tip and the underside of it, making him curse under his breath.

"you're so cute, baby."

your purred out words immediately go to his lower stomach; another kind of pressure builds and grows – the knot tightens with every kiss and every lick and every touch and every breath. he whimpers at you, his eyes big and glassy. his lips are parted and you catch sight of his sharp fangs.

wrapping your hand around his cock again, his whole body jolts and you tease him with a laugh. you squeeze at his base and tongue his sensitive slit – you know he can give you more. you take the tip back into your mouth and take him down your throat while jerking him off at the same time. all it takes is a steady pace and a tight grip and your mouth is being filled again. thick and sticky cum floods your throat and you swallow as much as you can; some of it still escapes your soft lips though – a mixture of spit and cum and piss coates your lower face and satoru thinks you look beautiful. moans fall from his lips like a waterfall, he's not even trying to hold back. it's not like you want him to do that anyway. you're just as greedy as he is.

you give him a smile and then he's already pushing himself up from his position and pressing his lips against yours. he can taste everything and he can't help but moan into your mouth. you pump him lazily as you let him suck on your tongue like a good boy. he paws at your skin and you know he's hungry.

he's fucked out and he's exhausted but he'd be nothing if he didn't take care of his baby the way you take care of him. it's your turn now; you let him mark you with his scent and taste and he can't wait to let you do the same to him.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Yes, yes, we love a bit of hero whump, though may I suggest if it is not too much.... some villain whump? 👀

-💜

Most of the time, the villain could deal with injuries perfectly. In fact, they'd been in med school for several years and had perfected stitching up nearly every inch of their own body. Usually, they wouldn't accept help under any circumstances.

Partly because it felt wrong to bother someone else with their troubles, partly because they were terrified of other people's (non-existing) skills. They couldn't risk it.

But they assumed being placed under house arrest with the hero watching them wasn't exactly usual.

It happened in the middle of a card game between the two of them. A week ago, they would have never agreed to such silly things but after a few days, they had realised there wasn't much to do. No internet connection. No smartphone, no TV. Just this house and a hyperactive hero that couldn't sit still.

Once a week they got to call their parents.

In the exact moment as they put another card onto the stack, the villain felt the stitches open one by one. At first, they simply denied it, made themselves think that it wasn't that bad. They were simply mistaken; it was surely just the usual pain and they were exaggerating.

But the pain increased and they could feel the wetness of the blood trickle down their back. A week ago, before the hero had captured them, they'd been in a pretty rough shape. A swollen face, several nasty bruises and this one stab wound that kept reopening. And stitching their own back? That was more than a little challenge. They hated it, they loathed it.

"I think I have to use the washroom," they said.

"Oh, really? Now that you're losing, huh?" The hero raised an eyebrow. They took these games a little too serious. "Do you seriously expect me to go easy on you because I am the hero? I've been playing this game for years. I have mastered it and I will destroy you, no matter what it takes. No matter what you try, I will-"

"Okay, you win, oh almighty hero." They threw their cards onto the table. It was getting worse. They didn't even know if they could stand up without tripping. Their vision blurred. Everything seemed to turn upside down.

"'Hey, that's not how this works," the hero said. "You can't just give up like that. I was supposed to defeat you."

"M-hm." The villain stood up and for a second, they really thought they would pass out. They took in a deep breath.

"Wait, are you okay?"

"Hm?" The villain didn't find the hero's eyes right away and they could feel their own body sway. God, they needed painkillers, rubbing alcohol, thread, needle... "Yeah, be right back."

They walked past the hero, always in search for something to hold onto but they didn't come very far.

"Oh my god." The hero sounded a little too concerned. The villain thought themselves to be quite a good actor and they weren't even swaying that much. "What the...?"

The hero was next to them in seconds, their hand on the villain's arm. They held onto them.

"What did you do...?"

"What? Nothing, I...oh fuck..." Involuntarily, they grabbed the hero a little too harshly when they felt the wound pulsating.

"Your entire shirt is drenched in blood!" The hero's gaze had hardened and a more concentrated look had replaced their playful smile.

"I got it, it's alright," the villain mumbled. They let go of the hero to drag themselves to the bathroom but the hero had other plans.

"Lay down on the couch," they said.

"You're not my boss," the villain argued. Sometimes, they hated themselves for their stubborness but being nursed by the hero sounded like a greater punishment than even house arrest. Being vulnerable around them, letting someone else take care of them...it sounded like actual hell.

"Please," the hero said. They took the villain's hand and the villain was so confused by this gentle approach that they almost forgot about the pain. They were sure no one else would ever beg to take care of them. When they remembered how violent their capture had been and how many heroes had punched them, they got goosebumps.

They would never tell anyone but they were having nightmares about their fights. Anxiety was eating them up. So, they were almost glad that the hero was observing them at their home.

"It's fine, really," the villain mumbled. "I got it."

"You are bleeding out. You're not fine. Sit down." More or less of their own volition, the villain eventually sat down on the couch. "I'll take your shirt off now, alright?"

The villain's hand was still in theirs.

"Okay," the villain agreed. Their breath hitched and they prepared themselves for the inevitable pain that would follow. However, the hero wasn't rough with them.

"Isn't that from last week?" the hero asked while they pulled the bloody shirt over the villain's head.

"Yeah."

"They gave me an entire protocol about your injuries. There wasn't anything about a stab wound. Just your ankle and your face."

The villain smiled tiredly. "Sounds about right."

It wasn't a big secret that the agency preferred to be silent on how exactly they caught their villains.

Against the villain's burning back, the hero's cold fingers felt heavenly. They put their palm against the villain's skin and pushed them a little forward to see the injury better.

"Did you stitch that yourself?"

"I tried, yeah."

"It looks pretty good," the hero said. "Just give me a second, I will grab everything."

The hero stood up and left for the bathroom.

And the villain sat there, perplexed. When had they ever allowed someone else to even touch them? When had they ever undressed in front of someone else?

What was happening? Were they really this desperate loser who needed comfort that bad?

The villain stared at their hands, their trembling hands. There was no way they could stitch any wound like this, not even if it was on their thigh.

It was more than frustrating, more than a little annoying.

"Is there anything else I should know about? Allergies maybe?" the hero asked. The villain turned around and was surprised to see the hero with all the things they would have grabbed too. There were even painkillers and a glass of water in their hand. The villain shook their head. "Alright. Take this."

All of it was a little...too good to be true. What the hero asked seemed reasonable and their actions were too. The villain swallowed the painkillers and watched as the hero sat on the couch. They pressed a clean towel against the villain's wound and despite their carefulness, the villain hissed.

"Your pain from one to ten? How bad is it?"

"I..." the villain realised they had never thought about it. Usually when they tended to their own wounds they were like a machine, following instructions they had burnt into their system a long time ago. It didn't matter if it burnt or hurt, as long as the wound was closed. But the hero was actually communicating, they were careful and gentle. "...maybe a three?"

"Are you sure?"

"Okay, it's a five." The hero seemed to be another person completely, their jokes and their cheery manner were long gone, yet they were friendly and soft. Apparently, this was the professional side of the hero.

"Do you think it was a clean knife? Your wound doesn't seem to be infected."

"It should have been. Heroes clean their knives regularly, don't they?" For a moment, the hero was quiet and the villain wasn't sure if they had said the wrong thing. They cleared their throat. "Uhm, I can also stitch the wound, if you..."

"No, it's okay. It looks pretty clean, so I'm not going to put any alcohol on it. Don't want to damage your tissue." Woah. The villain had never really cared about that. They'd just drench their wounds in alcohol to kill any infection causing thing, even if that damaged their tissue. "One more thing before I start stitching."

"Yeah?"

"Just out of curiosity. Do you know whom of my colleagues did this to you?"

The villain's stomach tingled. The hero was probably not asking out of pure curiosity.

[writer-of-the-lamb]

narilamb marriage

“oh, it’s not a joke…?”

lamb, lounging around by the farm : great job, guys, we’re gonna have enough grapes in no time!

narinder, folding his arms : i could use a drink in a time like this. the weather is cold, and my coat is not enough to warm me for work.

lamb, snug in robes and his wool : speak for yourself

narinder, frowning : as your partner, i assume i will not have to do this?

lamb, grinning : nah.

narinder, genuinely surprised : oh. i assumed you would be placing me out there for your own sadistic enjoyment. as….well, as usual.

lamb, snickering and digging his hands in his pockets : i’m not always out to get ya.

narinder, watching the followers work : i am surprised by that. in your place i would enhance whatever suffering you could feel to punish you.

lamb : me making fun of you does that enough. i’m merciful. occasionally.

narinder :

lamb : i have a heart. at the end of the day im a lamb, nari. the last one. ever. like, nobody can say they can manipulate or read me because there’s no other sheep to practice on. *laughs* i’m almighty in every way.

narinder, amused : you wedding me was the most humorous choice, then. i will accept the punishment.

lamb, humming in thought : that was partly a joke. *turns to narinder* i do like you.

narinder : oh

lamb, sheepishly (lol) laughing : what, you think i toss you around because i hate you?? it’s my love language.

narinder, suddenly clutching his chest : you have made me ill.

lamb : okay, rude-

narinder : i applaude the clever tactic - but - what is this curse, you cruel-

lamb, watching narinder writhe around and cover his face :

narinder : if i had that crown, i would snatch it from your head and pound it into the ground, before following with you and- and perhaps imprisoning you! or such-

lamb, smiling goofily : you like me

narinder, pausing in his ‘agony’ : i-

lamb, bouncing on his heels : you like meee

narinder, letting go of his chest : curses

lamb : you wish they were

narinder : i suppose i do favour you.

lamb, giggling : you better, cause that ring is bound to you.

narinder, staring at his ring : hm. i am content with that.

lamb, batting his stupid little eyelashes :

narinder : may i see your ring? is it bound as well?

lamb, flourishing out his hand : no, but i’d like it to be. *winks*

narinder, inspecting his hand : gold suits you, lamb.

lamb : oh you flatterer

narinder, smug : i am skilled, lamb. i was once a god like you.

lamb, grinning : are you…are you smiling???

narinder : ….you bring it out of me.

lamb : when i saw you for the first time, i did not peg you as a romantic.

narinder : what were your initial thoughts, then?

lamb : id tap that

narinder, deadpan :

lamb : what? you’re the romantic, clearly

narinder :

lamb, grinning : love you

narinder : you are alright.

a pause

lamb : alright, heket! go eat, narinder’s tending the farms now.

narinder : LAMB, IT IS COLD

lamb : TELL ME YOU LOVE ME

narinder, hissing : STOP YELLING IN FRONT OF MY KIN

lamb : OH PLEASE, THEY SEE THE WAY YOU LOOK AT ME

narinder : LAMB.

lamb, glaring :

narinder : ….fine. i enjoy your prescence. and your banter.

lamb, giggling : good enough

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec:  Doubt Thou The Stars Are Fire

“Oh God,” Aziraphale said to the empty bookshop, pouring himself another drink, “Oh, Lord, tell me, if we had been humans together, with short lifespans and squishy bits and all that.” Aziraphale interrupted himself by hiccupping. “Would we have fallen in love? Are you listening lord? If you hear me, give me a sign, please, I beg you.” Unfortunately, or fortunately--one can never really say in such ineffable circumstances--the almighty was, indeed, listening.

Length: 31,198 Words

AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Best for: Mostly Safe in Public, Canon AU, Human AU, One Sitting

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by Princip1914

NOTE: This is a locked work you must be logged in to view

*Minor Spoilers* For many personal reasons I haven't been reading many fics lately that haven't been rereads or WIPS. Not enough space in my head the last couple weeks. But I came back to the world of Good Omens fic with this one. It instantly reminded me of the vastness of these characters and how big their love story is.

I don't want to give all this story's secrets away, but let's set the scene anyway. We start this story after the failed Apocalypse, Aziraphale is scared to admit his feelings for Crowley and feels that the only reason Crowley cares for him is simply because they just happened to get stuck with each other. He worries that he's the Wilson to Crowley's Tom Hanks, and how could Crowley possibly love him? The rest of the story sets out to prove him wrong.

What follows is an incredibly creative and well written montage of sorts, of different lives Crowley and Aziraphale might have lived. The stories are so rich and satisfying even with shorter lengths. There are two main lives we follow, both set in America, and they outstanding. Both are grounded and engaging, the sex especially feels so real. Awkward discussions and all. These stories have such a charisma to them that really just glued me to my screen. Then it goes above and beyond with it's really unique take on what love between the non human versions of them are capable of.

The one thing I will say in preparation, is you will need to pay attention because it will shift on you. It caught me off guard at first. It's not hard to follow along, but I was at work for some of my reading and I did have to go, "wait what?" once while my attention wasn't tuned 100% in. And I think it'd be best to read this in one sitting. Just to get the full effect of the thing. I loved this. I love how it excited me for this pairing, what it says about the characters and it's characterizations, the variety, the subtle humor, the creativity, I loved the whole thing! It's refreshing! You'll be mostly fine in public for this since the explicit scenes are spread out, but really I do recommend that you binge read this at home!

Read it here, fic by Princip1914

[bubble7o7]

Mature content

Over 18’s Only

Min Yoongi x Reader

Hard…

“Baby?…Babe?” you hear that gorgeous deep voice call out to you.

“Come to bed?… please?” He holds out his hand to you.

“I just want to catch the end of this. Go back to bed I won’t be long”

He never has to ask you twice on any other occasion but when you’ve waited all week for the next episode of your favourite drama and need to wind down from work… this is your spot and you’re not budging for anyone. Not even your handsome, sleepy, husky voiced, bed haired love.

“Come to bed” he pouts “Can’t you watch it tomorrow?”

“I won’t have time tomorrow, just go to bed I won’t be long baby, I promise.”

“No…” he huffs. He stumbles through the hallway clambering over the sofa, he flops down by your side. He lifts your arm and tucks himself under you while wrapping his arm and leg over you…

“I can’t sleep, I keep waking up to cuddle into you but you’re not there” he mumbles into your boob and squeezing you tighter.

“Ok, Ok… shhhh” you cuddle him into you, gently stroking your fingers through his hair which usually helps him relax. You make the mistake of watching him dose back off, you take in a deep breath at the beauty of him.

“God you’re too cute you know… it would be so funny if people saw this side of you…”

“What do you mean?” He mumbles.

“That hard exterior people think you have but you’re just my soft, clingy boy” you gently squeeze him into you again.

“Yah!” He jumps up, yanks you by your hips and pulls you down so you’re now flat on the sofa underneath him and he straddles over you.

“I’m Soft… “ he kisses you hard.

“I’m Clingy!” He moans as he nibbles down your neck.

“Boy!?” He kisses you again, while his hand slowly wanders from your boob, to your hips then he grabs a firm hold of your arse and presses himself closer to you.

“I’ll have you know I’m hard…” he grinds himself slowly against you. You let out a little moan.

“Tough” he kisses you passionately “and a man” he grins.

“Baby I know… I can feel it” you smile as you lean in and kiss his neck, while grabbing a firm hold of his arse with both hands.

“Wait… what are you watching?” a sound from the TV catches his attention.

“Erm… All of us are dead… why?”

He quickly jumps up from the sofa “Yeah… nope!. I’ll let you catch up and come to bed when you’re ready! Goodnight, I love you…” he pecks at your lips then rushes down the hallway back to bed.

“What the fuck!” You laugh. “Wait! Where’s my hard, tough man gone?!”

“To bed! and you should follow him!” He yells.

You can’t help but smile to yourself at the fact you have to watch horror films on your own because your boyfriend point blank refuses to!

You finish the last 15 minutes and tip toe into your room, it’s pitch black. “Yoongs… are you awake?” you whisper.

“Babe… I can’t see a thing… Ooff!” You stumble near the bed. Total silence.

“Baby?… are you taking the piss?”

You lean down to turn your bedside light on.

Just then there’s an almighty bang and the door flings open from the en suite and Yoongi’s rushing towards you.

“FuckShit!… you fucking dick!” You scream as he grabs hold of you and flings you on the bed. “My heart is pounding you fucking dick!” You cry out.

“Let me feel?” He laughs.

“That’s not my heart!” He has his hand clamped on to your boob, smiling at you before kissing you softly on either cheek then pecking at your pouting lips.

“You scared the crap out of me…”

“I’m sorry my love”

“You’re awfully cocky, scaring me like that for someone who wont even watch a Zombie Tv show… my hard, tough man” you smile.

“Mhuh” he mumbles as he leans in and kisses you hard and slow, he grips either side of your pj bottoms and pulls them off, tossing them to one side.

He gently grinds himself against you and whispers “Let me show you how hard I am”.

“Oh fuck…” you moan.

[orthodoxadventure]

I ask for a prayer. I've been dealing with increased anger and anxiety recently. Certainly a symptom of neglecting my spiritual needs the past few months. If you will, pray that I get back on the right path. Please and thank you. God bless.

I'm sorry to hear that you've been struggling with anxiety and anger recently, and I pray that both of these things improve for you. Of course I will keep you in my prayers.

Some prayers you might find helpful are under the readmore

Prayer Against Fear

O Greatly-merciful Master, Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me and cleanse me from every sadness and disturbance and cowardice. Drive away from me every spiritual choking and demonic sorrow, that I sense in my body and my soul. For You are our Joy, and the hope of all the ends of the earth, and those far off at sea. Be merciful to me, O Master, upon my sins. Take from me the heavy burden of sin and despair. Drive far away from me every sadness and laziness. Confirm me in Your Love, and with unassailable hope and unshakable faith in You, through the intercessions of Your Spotless Mother, and all Your Saints. Amen.

Another Prayer Against Fear

O Master, Lord my God, in Whose hands is my destiny:  Help me according to Thy mercy, and leave me not to perish in my transgressions, nor allow me to follow them who place desires of the flesh over those of the spirit.

I am Thy creation; disdain not the work of Thy hands. Turn not away; be compassionate and humiliate me not, neither scorn me, O Lord, as I am weak. I have fled unto Thee as my Protector and God. Heal my soul, for I have sinned against Thee. Save me for Thy mercy’s sake, for I have cleaved unto Thee from my youth; let me who seeks Thee not be put to shame by being rejected by Thee for mine unclean actions, unseemly thoughts, and unprofitable remembrances. Drive away from me every filthy thing and excess of evil.

For Thou alone art holy, alone mighty, and alone immortal, in all things having unexcelled might, which, through Thee, is given to all that strive against the devil and the might of his armies. For unto Thee is due all glory, honor and worship:  To the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen

Prayer Against Adversity

Dear heavenly Lord, It’s as if I take One step forward and Two steps back. Things go wrong In the most unexpected ways. It seems like the whole world Works against me sometimes. And my failure ties me up in knots. Yet I know one thing, For Your Word has told me, That I am not alone. So once again I call out to You, Rise up, oh Lord, rise up! Strike down the resistance and fear That seek to silence my faith. Give me strength and clarity To continue, no matter How hard the wind blows against me. I believe in Your promise. You will not abandon me. I trust in the resurrection That sets my soul free. You are my almighty God And I am Your beloved child. Christ won this for me Upon the cross. Only by Your grace, According to Your holy will, In Jesus name, Amen.

Prayer to Overcome Panic Attacks

Lord, I come to You and I thank You for drawing near to me when I draw near to You. To think that You are mindful of me — it overwhelms my soul. But Lord, today my spirit is heavy and my body is weak. I cannot bear the weight of this anxiety and panic any longer. I recognize I can’t get through this alone, and I pray against the very active enemy who is trying to shake my faith and tear us apart. Help me stand strong in You. Fortify these weary bones and remind me of the truth that this pain and panic will not last forever. It will pass.

Fill me with Your joy, peace and perseverance, Father. Restore my soul and break the chains of anxiety and panic that bind me. I trust You with my panic and I know that You have the power to take it all away. But even if You don’t, I know I don’t have to be a slave to my fear. I can rest in the shadow of Your wings and I will rise and overcome by Your unwavering strength. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Bless My Enemies, O Lord

Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.

Enemies have driven me into your embrace more than friends have.

Friends have bound me to earth, enemies have loosed me from earth and have demolished all my aspirations in the world.

Enemies have made me a stranger in worldly realms and an extraneous inhabitant of the world. Just as a hunted animal finds safer shelter than an unhunted animal does, so have I, persecuted by enemies, found the safest sanctuary, having ensconced myself beneath your tabernacle, where neither friends nor enemies can slay my soul.

Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.

They, rather than I, have confessed my sins before the world.

They have punished me, whenever I have hesitated to punish myself. They have tormented me, whenever I have tried to flee torments. They have scolded me, whenever I have flattered myself. They have spat upon me, whenever I have filled myself with arrogance.

Bless my enemies, O Lord, Even I bless them and do not curse them.

Whenever I have made myself wise, they have called me foolish. Whenever I have made myself mighty, they have mocked me as though I were a dwarf. Whenever I have wanted to lead people, they have shoved me into the background. Whenever I have rushed to enrich myself, they have prevented me with an iron hand. Whenever I thought that I would sleep peacefully, they have wakened me from sleep. Whenever I have tried to build a home for a long and tranquil life, they have demolished it and driven me out.

Truly, enemies have cut me loose from the world and have stretched out my hands to the hem of your garment.

Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.

Bless them and multiply them; multiply them and make them even more bitter against me:

so that my fleeing to You may have no return; so that all hope in men may be scattered like cobwebs; so that absolute serenity may begin to reign in my soul; so that my heart may become the grave of my two evil twins, arrogance and anger; so that I might amass all my treasure in heaven; ah, so that I may for once be freed from self-deception, which has entangled me in the dreadful web of illusory life.

Enemies have taught me to know what hardly anyone knows, that a person has no enemies in the world except himself.

One hates his enemies only when he fails to realize that they are not enemies, but cruel friends.

It is truly difficult for me to say who has done me more good and who has done me more evil in the world: friends or enemies.

Therefore bless, O Lord, both my friends and enemies.

A slave curses enemies, for he does not understand. But a son blesses them, for he understands. For a son knows that his enemies cannot touch his life. Therefore he freely steps among them and prays to God for them.

[radskull-69]

THE UNDERMUTTS (AI) SONG!

Everything was made by ai minus the lyrics, I take no credit!

It took me a lot of tries to find the right instrumental and ai voice since it’s randomised, I kept changing the lyrics but I’m happy with the ending! I imagine it’s Number One singing this

LYRICS!

Oh they’re back from the grave! four souls arise. Working as criminals, crooks, and spies!

Each mission filled with mischief and crime! No thanks to me..

Chains of the past can't hold us still, get the guns and knives, y’all know the drill!

Four of us, high speed chase! Police hot on our wheels with so little grace… driving off, going oh so well! Shit- Three you’re gonna crash into that hoteellll!

Get your bow ties, heels and the keys!

We’ve got a debt to kill! We’ll finish this with utmost ease!

[Chorus] Oooooohhh, they’re paying their dues Waiting to snap under all the abuse God! Just let us die! Reminding us of our treacherous crimes!

Am I even to blame? I can’t even remember my own name, just blindly following orders with the intent to kill. Am I here for me or am I here for the thrill…?

The other three scare me I swear I’m the only normal one here…

[Bridge] Signing that contract was a mistake! But can you blame me? Just look at our fates!

Hanging, shocking, this for our crimes? Gnawing off nails trying to decide, did I want to sell my soul? All for control.

Then again I don’t like being dead…

Argh! Fuck it. Give me that pen!

[Chorus] Oooooohhh, they’re paying their dues Waiting to snap under all the abuse God! Just let us die! Reminding us of our treacherous crimes!

Am I even to blame? I can’t even remember my own name, just blindly following orders with the intent to kill. Am I here for me or am I here for the thrill…?

The other three scare me I swear I’m the only normal one here…

I don’t know who I am! You wiped it away! Now all that’s left is this urge to obey, just close my eyes and hope it all will go away!

[Verse 3] Number one! Who is he but the contracts son? He can’t escape that lab until he does what needs to be done

Number Two! Couldn’t stand the feeling of not being used, so he dissected his child and with nothing else to do

Number Three! Deadly but tiny, her bombs on her path to becoming the next almighty!

Number Four! Fucked up face, can barely comprehend the corpses all over the place!

Oh what do they mean? Bringing these criminals back was such a terrible scheme. Oh please, just let us die! Anymore of this and I’ll lose an eye!

I’m more than this! I’m more than mean, I’ve got nothing to offer than my arm and my spleen. Pleeeasee! Just let us go! Let us perish to the flames below

Oh what do they mean? Bringing these criminals back was such a terrible scheme. Oh please, just let us die! Anymore of this and I’ll lose an eye!

[Chorus] Oooooohhh, they’re paying their dues Waiting to snap under all the abuse God! Just let us die! Reminding us of our treacherous crimes!

Am I even to blame? I can’t even remember my own name, just blindly following orders with the intent to kill. Am I here for me or am I here for the thrill…?

The other three scare me I swear I’m the only normal one here…

How much longer until we get to say goodbye…?

[lonely-vault-boy]

How I think GI characters would react to their rarity

Wanderer: Tsk naturally.

Faruzan: The audacity to place one as esteemed as Madame Faruzan in the less tier! They will be hearing from my lawyer!

Layla: Hm? oh, ok.

Nahida: While I do understand thar my status as archon allows me some degree of prestige, I don't think organizing anybody into categories of who is better or lesser is very wise. We all have our own hidden strength, like a shark living deep below calm waters!

Nilou: O-oh, really? Well, I'm honored that the archons find me worthy of such a rank, but all I'm really doing is expressing myself through my dance. I'm no god or anything...

Cyno: Ranking others in such a way demonstrates a level of self-consciousness. Regardless, it seems as though my reputation proceeds me.

Candace: Honestly, I don't mind. Hopefully this will mean there are less eyes looking to target Aaru Village.

Dori: Hehe, sometimes you need to be discreet to work beneath the eyes of the Akedemia!

Tighnari: Well perhaps if researchers kept away from poisonous mushrooms, they could achieve a 5-star rating too.

Collei: This just means I'll have to work even harder! Perhaps if I patrol more on my own, and really focus on those new words I've been learning...huh?! Amber is a 4-star too? But...how?

Heizou: Surely you've learned better than to judge a book by it's cover, right partner?

Shinobu: I don't mind. I just hope Itto won't let this go to his head.

Yelan: [Yelan was unable to be located for an interview]

Ayato: Should I act surprised?

Miko: Honestly, I'm just hurt you could think otherwise. Have I not made a strong-enough impression?

Shenhe: 5-star...rating? Sorry, what does this mean?

Yun Jin: It's nice to see that my friends and I are all the same. It would be uncomfortable if one of us weren't.

Itto: Well DUH! Anyone with half a brain could've told you that! Even THE SHOGUN HERSELF wouldn't dare challenge me!! NO ONE dares mess with Arataki "5-star" Itto!!

Gorou: No surprise that Her Excellency is of a higher ranking than me. Oh, but hopefully that crafty fox won't use this against me...\

Thoma: Haha, I'm not offended, don't worry. I'm just a simple housekeeper anyway.

Kokomi: I'm really not all that. Winning the war was a group effort.

Raiden Shogun: As is expected of the Archon of Eternity.

Ei: 5-star...? Are those words supposed to mean something to me? I guess I'll just have to ask Miko about it...

Sara: That idiot oni? On the same tier as Her Almighty Excellence, the Raiden Shogun? In what universe?

Yoimiya: Well I'm flattered, but this doesn't have to change anything. I'm not better or worse than anybody else just because of some silly rating!

Sayu: Zzzzzz...

Ayaka: I am honored to hold such a position, truly. I just wish...ah, my apologies. It would not be appropriate of a lady of my stature to be ungrateful.

Kazuha: For all that a 5-star rating may mean to you, for me, it is a reminder that, despite the power we may hold, we cannot stop the inevitable.

Eula: They dare to make such an attempt to compliment me?! Vengeance will be mine! And you said Amber is only a 4-star? Ridiculous. I shall go check on her at once.

Yanfei: Granny says inner strength is more important than pleasing others. I think that applies here too. On a side note though, I was recently contacted by a Professor from Sumeru who seemed to disagree.

Rosaria: Does this mean I don't have to do as much work?

Hu Tao: Aya, why do you seem so surprised? Do you really have that little faith in me? I wonder what rank my friends were given though...I guess I should just go scare- er, ask them!

Xiao: Adepti have no need for such fickle ratings. If I am protecting the people of Liyue, that is enough for me.

Ganyu: R-really? But you said Lady Ningguang is a 4-star? Oh no...

Albedo: Is there some sort of difference between these "stars"? Perhaps I should do some tests...

Zhongli: How odd, considering I am just a normal citizen of Liyue. Regardless, I suggest that you take this so-called rating with a grain of salt, so to speak.

Xinyan: You mean Yun Jin and I are the same! Haha, nice! You think this means her mom will be okay with us hanging out so often?

Tartaglia: Ok. What, were you expecting a bigger reaction from me? Come now traveler, you know I don't care about such things. A warrior cannot be picky about those matters, and he knows better than to judge others based on them. You'd do well not to underestimate your allies and enemies alike, comrade.

Diona: Hmph, and I bet that Diluc is a 5-star, huh? How predictable.

Klee: So...does this mean Kaeya can't tease me anymore now that I'm higher than him? Oh, and Master Jean and I are the same, right? So that means I can do what I want! Like...hmm, I know! How about extra dessert before dinner!

Venti: Ehe, ye of little faith. Did you doubt me?

Keqing: Well, perhaps if those I work with were more focused and skeptical of the archons, they could be 5-stars too.

Mona: Speaking of stars...traveler, I noticed something odd while scrying. I was hoping you might have some insight.

Qiqi: What...is a 5-star? Also, what were we talking about again?

Diluc: I don't trust these ratings one bit. And wait a moment, is there a harbinger on this list?

Jean: Things like this don't matter. Everyone is able to contribute in their own way, we're all equal. Only fools and children would think otherwise. Um, did you hear that? Oh no, excuse me traveler, I think I smell smoke...

Sucrose: O-oh ok. This needs some researching though.

Chongyun: My auntie is a 5-star? Hopefully this means she'll open up to others about their shared experiences.

Noelle: Of course. This just means I'll have to work even harder to serve the people of Mondstadt!

Bennett: Haha, just my luck, right? I don't mind though, I've been called worse.

Fischl: One dares to refer to their all-seeing leader in such a way? I- I shall have their heads for this! No, I'll show them that I...I...maybe...maybe they are right about me?

Ningguang: Bold choice of words to call someone who can end their entire career. And to put me on the same level as that...Captain.

Xingqiu: Believing oneself to be better than one's peers can lead to discord. It is a good thing we are all the same here.

Beidou: Ha! Ningguang will riot when she hears about this!

Xiangling: Hehe, I don't mind. If anything, I'm glad all four of my closest friends are the same!

Razor: 4...is more than 3? Razor happy.

Barbara: Maybe someday I can be as noble and helpful as my big sister...

Lisa: well, of course, cutie. I'm just a humble librarian.

Kaeya: Haha, don't seem so surprised, traveler. After all, I'm just a normal guy.

Amber: I'll still do my upmost to help you!

[mindstriker]

plspls PLEASE tell me anything youd like about owb...... im playing through nv for the first time and have yet to get to the dlc.... i have a passing knowledge of it but not much, and i am obsessed with these mad robobrain 2.0s and their relationships with each other and the courier

oh god almighty i don't even know where to START. i have gone insane over this specific DLC in the past to such a ridiculous extent that i'm in the middle of making an actual informative essay about it. styled the same way i write actual academic papers. i think i hauve COVID or whatever.

Off the top of my head, one of the things I love the most about OWB at first glance is the way it beautifully ties into the world of the Mojave itself and the other story DLCs (minus Honest Hearts) in subtle and yet fascinating ways that are a lot of fun to discover yourself or to tie together. Playing the NV DLCs, you'll find Big Mt.'s work in places you'd barely expect- slowly piecing together with every new bit of information the extent to which some of their work "breached containment", so to speak. You'll also find ties to other DLC stories scattered throughout the DLC area itself, keepng a beautoful, believable coherence between OWB and the outside story. It's an absurd, comedic terror of a DLC, to be sure- and yet, it's so grounded in the world of Fallout that I find it doesn't wreck your disbelief. Like some OTHER bizarro Fallout content has for me in the past. Looking at you, "Zetans" bullshit that I hate.

I'm also a big fan of the environmental storytelling throughout the entire DLC- something as simple as exploring the homes of the Think Tank in their secluded little vault-esque shelter (where I presume they sheltered out PART of the war before transferring to the brain tanks for longevity, OR which they potentially just lived in Pre-War) can tell you so much about their characters that you'd just never really pick up otherwise. The characters are simultaneously hilarious and... I mean. Heart-wrenching if you're willing to let your heart bleed for a bunch of demented amoral scientists whose entire Pre-War job was to try and resolve the war in America's favour in the nastiest ways possible. I personally find something so compelling in the unique ways their memories and personalities are equal parts warped by the passage of time and the recursion loops impacting their thoughts, and true to the people they were Pre-War.

(If I'm being vague about a lot of this, it's because I think some things are fun to find yourself and if I explained everything I liked about the DLC I'd probably just end up rehashing every single character and most of the plot points in the entire thing.)

Also it's just straight up fucking yonkers over bonkers. You get called a Lobotomite. You get to watch the world's worst co-workers (who have been cooped up in robot bodies living in a state of induced dementia together for the past god-knows-how-long) argue with each other like the world's pissest pack of schoolchildren. You get to hear some guy shriek at you about the terrors of Communism and the horrors of his high-school nemesis RICHIE FUCKING MARCUS for a solid five minutes. The entire thing starts off with an absurdly long insane conversation cutscene. One of the Think Tank members also like canonically cums in your gun. What's not to love, I guess.

[sky-kiss]

You have made me horny for Dom Asmodeus. What am I supposed to do with this?? He's reality crushingly powerful, so there is no smut of him because no one is that stupid. 😭 I'm begging you. If you can find it in you. Please write some.

A/N: Woops. Hand slipped. /hands over my lore card Here. I don’t deserve this anymore. Woops. I sinned.

______

Asmodeus x Baalphegor: Service

________

She comes to him, wreathed in hellfire and starlight, this little thing with pale hair and dancing eyes. Baalphegor strides barefoot into the lowest depths of Hell, beautiful and untouchable by shadows and beasts alike. Nessus is his domain, an extension of his almighty will, and Asmodeus will not see her brought to harm. Not tonight. 

Mephistopheles’ consort kneels at the foot of his throne. She is so delicate by devil-kin standards, standing far less than half his height. But she stares at him without fear, mischief dancing in her crimson eyes.  

“You are far from home, Lady.” 

Baalphegor chuckles, watching him through lowered lashes. “And if I said you were home to me, my King?” 

“I would call you a liar.” Asmodeus tips his head to the side, the dark curtain of his hair falling across his chest. “But I would never find fault, fair one.” 

She hums. Baalphegor climbs the step toward his throne, fetching up against his knees. He has learned his lesson with Bensozia; he will take no other consort. But Baalphegor is a pleasant indulgence, a trustworthy ally in a den of vipers. Odd and sweet. The she-devil plucks his hands from his knees, leading one to her hip and the other to her breast. There’s too significant a difference in their size: one hand spans the width of her waist, fingers capable of wrapping around the better part of her back. 

“Come here to me, little one. It has been too long.” 

Her breath catches, eager to obey her King. Asmodeus allows her to settle herself back to her chest. She will never take him, not like this, but…ah, the potential. The sweetness as she shivers for him, spreading her legs to nestle his cock against her core. His right-hand skirts along her thigh, fingers dragging along the sensitive flesh. Baalphegor chews her lip, her touch straying to his wrist. Clever girl, wise enough to know never to restrict him. Never her King. 

“Oh, sweetling. You would not have come to me empty-handed. Never you. Most precious Baalphegor.” A whisper breathed into the darkness, into her mind. She shivers, arching back against him. “Shall we play our game, dear one? Your secrets,” he strokes between her legs, voice dipping lower. “For my touch.”

She purrs, rocking. “A generous offer. Always so generous. My Asmodeus.” 

He chuckles, free hand curling around her throat. No, that note of possession would not do. A god could not be owned, even by such a pretty thing—sweet Baalphegor moans what little air she has left in her lungs. 

“Now, dear one, let us try again. Nod if you understand.” She nods. Asmodeus chuckles, filling her mind with sharp pleasure to compliment the press of his fingers. “Good girl. A gift for your services, and then…” she pants into the darkness, grinding down, so desperate to work him towards arousal. So hungry for her King. “Your secrets. Tell me, pet. How does Mephistopheles fare?”

[rhosmeinir]

Fictober 2023 #8

Prompt #8 - "Give me that, before something happens"

Fanfiction: Good Omens

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Pairing: Pre-Ineffable Husbands/Aziracrow

Other Notes: Before the Fall, Crowley wants to show Aziraphale something. 633 words!

“Aziraphale!” A strident voice rang through the formless white halls of this particular corner of Heaven, attracting the attention of the industrious cherub, who was just putting the finishing touches on a drawing. “Aziraphale!”

“Over here!” he called in reply, leaning back to admire his work. A moment later, an angel with a curly mop of red hair appeared.

“Ah, there you are! D’you— oh,” he paused, taking in the drawing, “How are the people coming along, then?”

“Oh, quite splendidly,” Aziraphale replied, pleased that his friend had taken the time to notice, “I think we’ve just about perfected the design.”

“Lovely. Do you have a moment?” There was an urgency in the redheaded angel’s voice that took Aziraphale aback, and he turned fully to face him, blinking in surprise. 

“Yes, of course.”

“Good. Look, I’ve got this letter here from Luc—” Aziraphale snatched the scroll from the other angel’s hand before he could complete his brandishing gesture and thrust it inside his robes.

“Give me that, before anything happens! Come here.” He seized his friend’s hand and with a blur and a shimmer, they departed the offices of Heaven and rematerialized near the two star-incubating pillars of gas and dust where they often came to talk. The redheaded angel rolled his eyes.

“I really don’t think that was necessary. What do you think is going to happen?”

“You know what they’ve been saying about Lucifer, don’t you?” Aziraphale straightened his robes uncomfortably, “How they think he’s fomenting discord against the Almighty?”

“Fomenting discord? Really, Aziraphale. And who is they, anyway?”

“You know… they,” Aziraphale gestured broadly, “angels. The grapevine, everyone who gossips!” One scarlet brow arched in the cherub’s direction.

“Do you gossip?”

“No!” Aziraphale retorted, a little too quickly, “But I listen.” The redheaded angel scoffed.

“Just look at the letter!” Hesitantly, Aziraphale pulled the now-crumpled scroll from his robes. He unrolled it, and began to scan its contents. His eyes widened as he read, and he shook his head, curls shaking with affrontery. 

“This is.. this is… well, fomenting!” he cried hoarsely, “If anyone finds you with this—” In a moment of impulse, Aziraphale snapped his fingers on the scro and it went up in a puff of flame, the small haze of its ashes drifting off into space. “There,” he turned to his friend, forced smile betrayed by brows knitted in concern, “No trail now.”

“Aziraphale,” the redheaded angel rolled his eyes, but also reached out to grasp the cherub’s shoulder, “it’s not fomenting, it’s just asking questions! We just want to know—”

“We? We? You and Lucifer?”

“Well yeah, Lucifer and the guys and me—” Aziraphale broke away and put a hand to his mouth, chewing on the end of his thumb. “Come on, cherub! All we want to do is ask God some questions, you know, maybe get Her to let us angels be a little more involved in things, help make some policy. It’s all for the people anyway, you should be on our side here.”

“Your side? What do you mean side?” With one mighty push of his wings, Aziraphale returned to his friend’s side, reaching out to clutch his arm with both hands. “There aren’t any sides here, unless it’s Heaven’s side! Aren’t we all working toward the same thing? Starmaker,” he entreated, “please, please don’t get involved with them. I just… I have a bad feeling about all this.” 

The redheaded angel, startled by this sudden outburst, looked into Aziraphale’s wide eyes, their pale blue glittering with the reflected glory of his nebulae, and he softened. Gently he peeled the cherub’s hands from his arm, and took them reassuringly in both of his own.

“It’ll be alright, Aziraphale. God is Love, remember? What could She possibly do but listen?”

[obsessed-with-obsessive]

''Trampled flowers, rebirthed roses''

Posted originally on Ao3 ^^ A Yan!Ayato, Yan!Thoma x reader fic Based on my previous prompt (--)

-----

TW: Stalking, Obsession

When you were 'gifted' the opportunity of smuggling goods to inazuma, you jumped at the chance. The high reward making your heart flutter, the amount of good you could do for your family, the freedom you would finally feel, it was everything you'd ever dreamt of. Your family was always your top priority, they did all they could to support your dreams, but money was tight and merchants chasing their overdue loans where ruthless in the land of contracts. This could prove to be a fresh break for you and your loved ones.

You didn't expect the wrath of the almighty shogun to be as ruthless as legend though. The seas were rough but, what you didn't account for was the unending storm, the constant crashing of lightning striking around you. Your eyesight blurred, all you could focus on was the screaming of your crewmates, your captain barking orders, the desperation was thick in the air. But before you could go to tighten the ropes of the sail, you felt your body slip, as one loud crack of lightning turned your vision black. You felt yourself be plunged into an endless abyss, you didn't expect yourself to die on this trip, but the cold peace brought you a strange sense of freedom, you'd always hoped for a vision, perhaps a cryo one, but truly you knew the gods would never gaze upon a lost cause such as yourself.

You let the cold, weightlessness embrace you.

...

You thought that was the end, until you felt a fire in your chest, the burning pain was immence. As you coughed and sputtered trying desperately to remove the pain in your lungs, your vision began to come back to you, bluring of a violet sky, with a blonde standing above you, pushing on your chest. With one final cough you felt the final lump of first in your lungs leave your body, and you sat up to catch the fleeting breath in your lungs.

''Oh gosh! thank god..' You heard next to you, a familiar tone you thought, it reminded you of your friends from mondstadt. You turned to face the voice, greeted by a soft face of a blonde, with a strange outfit, one you'd never seen before. 'Please don't exert yourself' He assured you, 'everything is okay, you were in a serious wreck..'. You blinked at him, 'W-where am I? where are my crewmates,, my ship? is this liyue?' He looked at you with concern, gently helping you to your feet, keeping a firm hand on your waist to keep you balanced. 'You're in inazuma,, you washed up on the shore alongside the wreckage of a ship, we haven't found any other survivors' Those words rang in your ears, you were the only one... The man noticed your immediate drop in attitude and attempted to reassure you 'It's alright! we will continue looking, Its a miracle you're alright, My name is Thoma, I wont ask how you got here, I understand it was probably under..' he paused, and looked down on you 'less than legal circumstances' you gulped, god, you just survived a wreck and now you're going to prison... 'Dont worry' He chuckled 'As long as you follow my lead, no one will notice. You don't happen to have a vision do you?' If only, you thought, maybe you would of been able to keep your crew alive. You shook your head slowly, and thoma looked at you carefully, his expression unreadable. 'Well then that's not an issue for us to worry about. Come on.'

Thoma was kind, at least he appeared to be, he tended to hover quite a lot thought. He offered you a job quite quickly after you recovered, under the same clan he worked under. You had your doubts as the kamisato clan seemed awfully important, what could they possibly have use of a washed up pirate for? But after taking your first couple jobs, you found yourself getting quite comfortable. Thoma helped introduce you to the others working under the kamisato family, and it made you feel less alone, they even helped you write letters to be smuggled to your family back in liyue. Your family knowing you were alive helped you ease into inazuman life a lot easier, quickly you accepted your new job, you began to make friends, and things, maybe started to feel normal. You longed for liyue still, but you hoped soon, the Sakoku Decree would be ended and you could return to your loved ones.

When you first began working for the kamisato clan, you began work as a gardener, you had tended to flowers in liyue's gardens quite often as a child, and you found that the best way to make yourself useful while working for the estate. Tending to the flowers always made you feel at ease, it was during this that you first met Lord kamisato.

While watering and tending gently to the precious dendrobium, which you had learned tended to sprout on the grounds of fallen warriors, and therefore needed to be treated with the upmost respect, you felt a presence beside you. Looking up you were greeted by the kamisato commissioner. Startled, you stood up quickly, bowing, 'L-lord Kamisato! How may I be of service?'. After what felt like eons of his gaze burning into you, he let out a soft chuckle and spoke. 'Please, continue. I was enjoying watching you tend so delicately to these flowers.' You peeked up at him, before returning your attention to the flowers silently. After a moment, you let your eyes drift up to him, 'Are you found of dendrobiums?' you asked. 'You know, any of my other servants would never dream of speaking to me like that.' He began, you turned to him in shock and as you began to spout apologies he held up a hand to stop you. 'But, it's nice to be asked about my interests beyond business.' With a smile across his lips 'I love what they represent, that the loyalty these soldiers offered to me, can be forever immortalized.' A moment passed, the wind softly blowing between you both. 'You value loyalty highly.' You spoke quietly, turning your attention away from the flowers to gaze up at him. He offered you a soft smile in return 'Loyalty is the embodiment of dedication, like a Gardner to it's flower.'

That was the last time you saw the commissioner for months. Your life continued as normal, things felt odd though, the odd time you felt you may of had an admirer, they quickly shot you down, and it left you devastated. You spent more nights than you'd like to admit crying over men who you thought were interested right until you showed interest back. You continued to send letters off to your family, taking advantage of your generous paycheck to buy ornate and decorated paper, so your family could see that you were thriving. You often sent money back with your letters too, to hopefully ease their financial burden, you never expected anything back, but it still hurt to go months without a reply.

It wasn't until one day you had gone to the commissioners quarters by request, intending to discuss your time off and request time to travel, that you noticed a draw left adjar. You attempted not to look but, you couldn't help but notice a neatly bundled pile of letters, in the ornate paper you could of swore you sent your family a month prior, it wasn't until you noticed your signature that you began to panic. You shut the drawer of his desk quickly as you went to sit down, your heart thumping in your chest. Was he personally intercepting them? Did the shogunate find your letters? Did your coworkers lie to you?

It wasn't until the door opened that you were ripped out of your thoughts, it was Ayato. He glanced across the room towards you, you watched him carefully as he scanned the desk, you swore you could see something flicker in his eyes, but it was so quick you couldn't work it out. He swiftly made his way over to his desk, sitting in front of you.

'So...' he started 'you wish to request time off?' You opened your mouth to speak 'i-' you barely started before he stopped you, quietly holding his hand up. he looked down on you, never before had you felt so small. 'You know you are paid a generous amount. You are expected to be here often and are given ample time in the week? Am i such a cruel employer that you request over 2 weeks off in another city? What if the shogunate were to find you, we would not be able to cover for your status here in inazuma if you moved.. though if you truly wish to go...' He looked at you, piercing blue eyes not giving away anything.

You gulped. 'I apologize, I've changed my mind.' looking down at your feet, as you replied. You heard a soft hum escape the commissioners lips, 'Dismissed.' You stood, your eyes still firmly on the ground as you walked out, though you did hear the distinct sound of a drawer open as you left.

You spent the next month plotting your escape, you stopped writing letters. Delusion or not, you knew you had no agency in inazuma under the kamisato clans employment. You pocketed every paycheck you were given, conversing with the locals you managed to make the aquantance of some smugglers, ones whom were travelling to liyue in a weeks time. You could barely afford their fees, but it was worth the cost, you could take the risk again.

Despite your plans, you had made friends among the servants, and you felt guilty for leaving them all behind without saying anything, so one evening, in the servants quatres, you suggested you all visit a local bar together. Most agreed, even thoma, whom you expected to excuse himself to his quarters early like usual, which was a pleasant surprise.

It was a fun night, and it was full of plenty of alcohol, and although you were anxious, you let yourself go for the night, enjoying your newfound family's company. It was bittersweet sure, but they were happy to be spending time with you, and you had some disposable income. After many hours of celebration and joy, covered by your left over savings most of you began to split off to make your way home, thoma pulled you aside. He lead you outside towards the docks before turning to you. ''Where are you going?'' he spoke harshly. Shivers ran down your spine, 'what?' you sputtered back. 'You're spending all your mora, I also know about your agreement with the crux fleet.' What was this? how did he know? 'I..' you looked up at him. 'I'm sorry, I don't belong here'. You felt tears well up in your eyes, surely he could understand that. But instead of the compassionate look you expected from your longtime friend, the one who fished you out of the ocean, you only saw distain. 'After all the lord has done for you? This job? this lifestyle? You want to run away?' He sighed, rubbing his eyes 'I really didn't think it would come to this Y/N...'. Your heart sank, what? what did he mean by that? all of this was ayatos doing? So the letters weren't a coincidence. You felt your blood run cold as he placed a hand on your arm 'Come on, you know this is stupid, don't make this more difficult than it needs to be'

Before you could think, your legs were carrying you. You were sprinting away, towards your home, towards liyue. All you could think of was getting home, The ocean didn't register in your mind, all you could think of was running. You heard the quick pace of thoma behind you, and as you leapt from the dock, you expected to feel the crash of water, but your feet kept going. Ice cold beneath your feet kept you running, frozen ice beneath ever step you took. Before you could even register the gift the gods had just bestowed on you, you felt the same heat you had felt before, right as you plunged into the ice cold water.

When you awoke, you felt something missing, but couldn't place it. You were dressed in a soft kimono, it was silk. You had no strength, none at all, you could barely lift your head to look around at your surroundings, but you quickly noticed what was wrong. The commissioner stood at the foot of the bed, speaking to Thoma, he gazed over, noticing you awaken. 'Ah, it appears you're awake.. you know, I was quite hurt by your little stunt' There was a venom in his voice, the eyes of both Ayato and Thoma felt cold, you couldn't even recognize them. Ayato moved closer, he placed a gloved hand on your chin, forcing you to look up at him. 'My kindness only goes so far, if not repaid by loyalty...'

------

[onceuponapuffin]

Metatron Meta

Okay, so first of all let’s get a few things straight: I do not like the Metatron. I hate his big dumb floaty face, and these thoughts of mine in no way, shape, or form are meant to imply otherwise. He is perfectly responsible for his own actions and behaviours and is deserving of all resulting consequences. This is not a defense, excuse, or justification for any of his bullshit.

Got it? Are we clear? Yes? Yes.

So from here on out, will you promise to take a few minutes to hear me out, and then a few more to sit and actually think about what I’m saying? Okay, good, I trust you.

Here’s what happened: One night I was indulging in a stress-relief, fan-fiction-type, self-insert fantasy where I get to tell the Metatron exactly what I think of him straight to his dumb face, and as I’m imagining this conversation, a lightbulb goes off. He feels threatened by Aziraphale and Crowley.

Feeling threatened is a defensive reaction; he’s afraid. And so the question became the following: What could the Metatron, the most powerful angel in Heaven, be afraid of?

Come, walk with me.

The only being I can possibly imagine that the Metatron would actually be afraid of is God, but more specifically, afraid of upsetting or disappointing Her.

People have generally come to the consensus that God hasn’t been around for a while. Anytime anyone wants to talk to God, they talk to the Metatron. Anytime they’re given instructions, it comes from the Metatron. The lack of God’s narration in Season 2 seems to support this conclusion.

As far as I’ve seen, people have been happy enough to leave it here: God’s not actually calling the shots anymore, oh that evil Metatron grabbing at power, Metatron is playing God and doing terrible things.

I haven’t seen anyone – not one person (and if there is someone else who’s asked, please forgive me – it’s entirely because I haven’t come across your work) – say “If God hasn’t been around for a while, what does that mean for Metatron?”

Think about it – his whole existence, his whole purpose, is to talk to God and relay Her instructions to the rest of the angels. If his purpose and reason for existence has disappeared...I mean how would you feel?

Let’s not forget that Metatron is an angel. He was created to be a being of literal love and joy and light. He loves God and loves his job as Her voice – and she disappeared a while ago and hasn’t come back.

Let me say that one more time to make sure it gets through – THE CENTRE OF HIS EXISTENCE LEFT AND HASN’T COME BACK.

Are you with me? Good, because we’re going deeper.

Okay so let’s suppose that the last time Metatron heard anything from God direct was, say, Job. Sometime after Job, God disappears. Metatron, worried (and smarter than the other angels) goes back through the files, and notices a few things: the children are the same, the plan was disrupted. Also Crowley and Aziraphale are there.

(Right now, our beloved husbands are just a footnote, but keep this in the back of your mind for later.)

 For now, Metatron realizes that God’s plan for the bet wasn’t carried out properly. Right now, Metatron – a being of purity and love and light, whose Most Precious Thing is his connection to God – thinks he has messed up.

Maybe he expects to Fall. Maybe he lives in terrible, shaking fear that God will be angry with him for a bit. Maybe what he doesn’t expect is the Silent Treatment. And maybe what he doesn’t expect, then, is for it to last. He doesn’t expect the radio silence. He’s been ghosted by the being he loves most.

Alright, he figures, he hasn’t Fallen so the Almighty can’t be THAT angry with him. All he needs to do is go back do doing things RIGHT. He just needs to do the best job he can and God will forgive him and come back and talk to him again. He just needs to do a Good Job. He just needs to Do Everything Right. He needs to follow The Plan, as he knows it, and if he does it well enough, She will come back to him. His existence, his purpose, depends on it. And so, nothing can get in the way.

He can NOT let ANYTHING get in the way of The Plan.

So he keeps up appearances. He can’t let anyone know that God isn’t around. Who knows what kind of chaos that might occur? (And chaos is certainly not what God wants.)

He sees Crowley and Aziraphale avert the First Apocalypse (and this is where something perks up in his memory), but no matter because The Plan includes a clause for The Second Coming. Then their miracle together gets his attention.

Oh no, he thinks, this is what messed up my life the first time. Not again, I’m so close. I’m so close to getting Her to love me again.

And so he separates them.

You see, the thing about abuse is that it’s a cycle. The abuse that Metatron is imposing on Aziraphale and Crowley comes from somewhere I think. Everything in Heaven was created to be for the sake of Love. Maybe She left hoping that it would encourage the angels to love the universe as She does – take away the distraction, so to speak. Maybe God realized that Love isn’t enough and Nope’d  out, but whatever happened, when She left it royally fucked up everything.

Metatron has been desperately trying to Do A Good Job so that God will give him a CRUMB of affection, and that attitude has trickled down until all of Heaven runs on it.

If you haven’t ever lived like that, you might not realize the way it warps you. The way that getting that affection becomes all-encompassing; the way you keep collecting crumbs, thinking you can make a whole cake.

I don’t have sympathy for the Metatron. Regardless of what has happened in our lives, we are in full control of what we do and how we do it. He has let his love for God warp him into something that he wasn’t supposed to be. He’s become driven by obsession, while convincing himself it’s love. The way I see it, he’s come to a point of selfishness. His desire has warped him into the antithesis of what God made him to be, and I hope that comes back around to bite him.

[hel-phoenyx]

Elijah/Sharon is the Almighty gf's character, Salimeh @noa-de-cajou's, Virgil @thal-ent's and Tomyris @soupedepates'

There is a TW suicide attempt at some point

"Mother, who is that?"

They are in a church, probably the most beautiful one of all Amsterdam. People talk when they see the family strolling through the benches, on the low voice of the terrified, the awed and the reverent.

None of the van Heels really care. Who would care about ants under their feet ?

Adelheid van Heel, probably the most haughty of all, bring down her eyes to those of her only son, emotionless meeting curious. He is pointing with his tiny finger the figure of the Christ, left on the cross to die, eyes close and head tilted. The eldest is deep into prayer, and the grandparents are showing Diederik and Felicia the altar, talking about the soon baptism of baby Justen not yet born.

She sighs, looking at the Christ with disdain. Never has she found interest in the scriptures her parents and brother wanted to sell her, finding their teachings too dated, to patriarcal for her goals. But the curiosity she sees gleaming on Emerens's face pleases her. He'll need that, to understand her world. And one who can understand her world can control it.

"That's Jesus Christ, sweetie. The son of God."

"Why is he on the cross ?"

"He was preaching a parole of love of the divine, and the Roman Empire with their pagan idols didn't like that. So, when he was betrayed, they executed him by nailing him on a cross and leaving him to die."

"That's... Painful."

He looks back to the figure of the Christ, his curiosity now tainted with reverence. That boy lets himself be too touched by these kinds of stories, she thinks. She will have to excise that later. Curiosity is not submission.

"Maybe. but it was not for nothing. The scripture says he died to pardon our sins, and when his martyr was over, God ascended him to godhood with Him."

"So God didn't abandon him ?"

She put her hand on the shoulder of her son, so tall arelad and yet so fragile. What would she feel if he was nailed on the cross for the simple crime of being ?

"Of course not. What parent would abandon their child?"

Emerens smiled, but his next question was cut short by the harsh voice of his grandmother.

'Adelheid, stop stalling and come over here. We have to think about little Mareva's baptism too."

A roll of her eyes, and she shooed her children towards her parents. If she had a word in this, she thought, neither Mareva or her two eldest would have undergone baptism. But she was still young, still under her parent's icy grip, and she needed to seem conciliant if she wanted to hide all of her work towards stripping them of all they took for granted.

She looked at her brother, so smug and petulant and limp in his trust fund he would never think about losing. Her parents, locked in an other age, wanting their children to adress them as milord and milady by their nobility rights she didn't see a point in.

She looked at Emerens and Elvira, so innocent, so little. They took from their father, so young but taller than any children their age. Elvira had his smile and laughter, and Emerens his way to ruffle his hair that she only sees when they're alone, far, far away from that world of lies and fake.

Her perfect weapons to take over and at the same time her tiny children that needed a mother.

"God won't save you, she mumbled under her breath. Him, nor traditions lost by time and uncertainty."

Nobody heard those words. But on her lips grew a little smile from the satisfaction of blasphemating in the House of the Lord.

***

"What are you doing?"

Startled, Emerens jumped a little. Elijah was sitting in the bed next to him, his eyes full of wonder brushing across the other one's position. Still on his knees, Emerens lifted his head, disjointing his hands locked in prayer.

"Oh, I'm praying!"

"That doesn't look like the prayers I'm used to, back home. What religion are you?"

"Christian protestant. I'm not practicing much, he laughed with an embarassed smile, but grandmother told me prayers helped people feel better by sharing their concerns with God, and that God would help me, so..."

Elijah lifted an eyebrow.

"Didn't take you for the type to ask for His help. is it that hard here ?"

He hesitated. Of course, it was hard. Saint-Cyr was eating him away, it was not difficult to realise. He hated everything, the classes, the teachers, the strict rules upheld everywhere. Curfew at this hour, eating at this one, and ressources are sparse so no second refills. No eating outside of hours, no candy for studying, no noise of any kind in the library, everyting was just a succession of interdictions evrn worse than in the Scriptures.

But he had friends, he had Elijah, and he had Thibault, so it couldn't be that hard. God may have put them in his path so he could bear the weight of his family's expectations, he doesn't know, and that won't stop him from praying.

Because such a gift cannot be ruined by worry and sadness.

He must be the happy one.

For their sake, and his own.

So, he just smiled a little.

"Oh no, not that much. But it feels good talking to God. I haven't got an answer as humans would give me, but I can talk, at least."

He can't be ungrateful towards his only source of happiness. He can't ruin God's gift by making them sad. What would be the point of a gift, then?

***

He's alone, in his room, his hands joined in prayer. Blood is circling his wrists like it once did to the Christ, but the Christ didn't cry, the Christ didn't begged, and the Christ was answered to with godhood.

How cruel must one be to take back a gift? He's alone in his room, Elijah away who knows where, and the letters stopped coming a long time ago. He knows his cousin is there, somewhere, in the school, but seeking her was worth nothing. No one is answering his prayers.

He's alone, on his knees, the blood dripping from his arms. He didn't cut that deep, he didn't sat in a bathtub like that upperclassman told him was the most efficient method, and he's waiting for a bliss and a rest that doesn't come, prostred on the floor, tears blended with vermillon.

Nothing came to support the weight.

Nothing came to soothe the pain.

He called for his mother, for Thibault, for Elijah. For the Christ, for God, for anyone kind enough to help him.

But nobody came.

When they found him, he was already out of it, dazed by the blood loss. It was not too late to save him, and emergency services weren't needed, the school infirmary and rest would be enough. But he was not awarded one, or the other. Only a stern speech, his wrist bandaged in tainted white, on the necessity to not disturb the ones that were strong enough to work.

***

He woke up in the hospital, the tears creasing his face, not as deep as what's under the bandages. He remembers calling for help, Thibault's name heavy on his tongue, the first one coming out of his mouth. He remembers crying out for Elijah, sobs hurting his throat that he can now feel, now that he's not numbed by that emptiness in his head.

He remembers the word of God rolling past his lips.

But in front of him, there is no God, no Thibault, no Elijah. No mother. Onl a man in a white coat looking at him with concern on his face hurt by fatigue and age.

"You're up, kid. How are you feeling?"

There's so much in that question, now that he can't feel the cutter on his hand. The doctor, since a man in a white coat in a room whiter than him must be a doctor, certainly did feel its weight, though. How else to explain the pain seeping through the wrinkles?

He tries to lift his arms. The pain instantly stops him. Pain, everywhere on his bandaged forearms. he remembers how deep the pain cut, how far he guided it upon his flesh.

He doesn't answer.

The doctor sighs.

"At least you can try to move a little, I guess that's a good sign. You really scared me there, kid. A teen, with your wounds, and so much blood lost... I thought you were done for."

That would have been better. Or is it ? He doesn't know. Only thing that he's sure of is that there will be no godhood for him. Only loneliness in oblivion.

Is that was thr Christ felt on the cross ?

In that case, why didn't He helped, why didn't He soothe ? Didn't He die so no one would ever be sujected to His martyr?

Why didn't anybody answer his prayers?

A creak. The chair of the doctor rolls towards him, not too much, only so he can see the marks on his face. Tears scrubbed hastily so no one can see them. But he always saw too much.

Why did that doctor cry?

"Look, i'm not gonna ask what led you there. I see a lot of kids like you, that think they don't have any other choice. But if you ever want help, I'll try to help, even if it's talking about something unrelated."

A little smile grew on the man's lips as he was saying this.

"By the way, if you're wondering about your personal effects, the nurse will bring them to you when you'll be out of reanimation. There's that pretty necklace and a notebook. Blood tainted the cover but I think most of the words are intact."

Right. The necklace, and the manuscript. The only thing left from a time where he was happy.

He knows the doctor is not talking about his cross. Because he threw it away in a pool of blood.

***

"By God that doesn't exist, i'm surrounded by idiots."

No other head turned towards him than Tomyris', a pensive expression on her soft face. He's not exaclty friends with her, per say, they are opposites in every point of view. But Sharon and Salimeh wanted a little polycule outing. Salimeh brought Tomyris. And Sharon brought him.

So now he's talking with the giant girl, his metamour once removed. Well, not giant for him, or he would have to give that adjective to Elvira, too. How would he admit that his sister is five inches taller than him at least?

The conversation wandered a bit, on the school, the matchmakers, Tomyris' life with Jennifer now that they were finally together, and now, Bastien and Virgil's whole pining problem. Since Tomyris knew Virgil, she herself had a lot to say about it, and gave Emerens an insight on the vampire hunter's thinking he wouldn't even have thought about. But even she would agree with that last sentence, even when she understood better than him the religious trauma of the one that grew up in a cult.

Still, her face was dubitative.

"I have a question to ask of you, if you don't mind."

"Go ahead."

"What is it with you and God? Everytime you mention His name, it is to add that He doesn't exist. I find that... Off-putting."

"Did I offend you?"

The question was genuine, even though he couldn't stop that little spike of sarcasm to mark his words. Luckily, Tomyris is not familiar with sarcasm, especially the soft, unnoticeable one he's used to when he's pissed.

"No, not really. I... Understand people don't believe. But atheists usually don't feel the need to add "that doesn't exist" after every mention of Him. So I was... Curious."

Fair enough. He is among the most overzealous atheists he knows, after all, and even people that don't believe don't make it a point to remind people they don't. But that urge is always compelling him, ever since that day when his prayers were left unanswered.

"You're not obligated to answer, added precipitally Tomyris in front of his silence. That was just bugging me, I figured I could ask you."

"Oh, no, it's okay. It's just... Well. I was Christian once."

"Catholic?"

"Protestant. Family tradition, even though mother never forced it on me. I was a believer for a long time."

"Why did you stop?"

"Stopped seeing a point."

No need to add more. That is supposed to be enough. And certainly, for Tomyris, that is enough. Nonetheless, her face went pensive, almost like she was trying, and managing, to understand his point of view on the situation.

"I never though there was a... Point, in faith. It's a strenght you carry with you, that soothes you and follows you through the hardships. Everyone has their own faith, and in different forms, like Salimeh's and Sharon's belief in Islam's values. But the strenght behind faith is the same, even though the expression is different."

"I thought so once, but it just felt so... Empty, at some point."

"I don't want to lecture you, promise. But dropping all of it to that extreme maybe wasn't the solution... There may be another way to adapt your faith?"

"if there was a goddamn way, why didn't anybody answer me ?!"

He didn't mean to shout. But that, even though Tomyris was well-intentioned, was the breaking point. That was rubbing in his face everything he thought at the hospital, every moment he believed he failed, and was cast aside by the one he seeked so badly during all those months.

Tomyris' face contracted. She held a hand in pardon, or in an attempt to make him shut up, but it was to late. The gates were open and every feeling he held for so long was flooding through.

"I did everything by the book, goddamnit. I prayed, I offered my belief, I tried to see faith as that strenght you, my family, Saint-Cyr was selling me, the support in hardships, the power to rest upon! And where was that strenght where I needed it?!"

Something is hurting his eyes. Tears. The same tears he cried years ago.

"What god is cruel enough to let a child die alone and abandoned by everything he once cherished?! What god takes back what he offers day after day after day?! If there is a god, Tomyris, if something up there heard my prayers while I was bleeding out, he abandoned me like everything else did and I can't bear that, you get it?!"

The tears are now streaming down his face, lost in sobs and claws deep in his throat, in his arms, everywhere. Only thing that doesn't hurt, that doesn't burn, is a soft palm on his shoulder, warm behind the cold fabric, big enough to break his neck but comforting like one does to a child.

The comfort that lacked so many years ago.

"If there is a god, Tomyris, it is kinder to me to imagine he isn't there, rather than he was and left me to rot. Kinder to me, and kinder to Him, and every other that like me thought He would help."

She didn't say anything else.

What even was there to be said ?

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Hello lovely!!

Requests are open and with new prompts too!! My word, you are good to us! 😘

May I pretty please have #18 with you guessed it, Angel Reyes.

Hello babe! Why yes, yes you may! <3

The door closes with an almighty crash, Angel's entrance home announcing his mood. Bad.

Whenever he's angry, you know, because of the banging and the crashing and the breaking of the things, the latter usually without meaning to, like when he ripped the windows open one time and managed to dislocate one from its hinge. You shouldn't find it quite so entertaining either, when he's like a bear with a sore head.

"God damn this fucking thing!"

Oh, lord. What's wound him up even further?

"Angel, baby, settle down," you speak, approaching him while he vents at the TV, the remove flung back onto the couch with an annoyed growl. "Come here, what do you need?"

One lovely thing about your boyfriend is that whenever he is this pissed off, he never, ever takes it out on you. Turning, he sinks into the solace of your arms, holding you close, the agitated tension easing for feeling you against him.

“What do I need? I need you. Just you, all over me, right now.”

Your lips flicker a smile, pulling away, pulling the halter fastening of your dress undone, letting it fall, your undies following before you wrap your arms around him. "Better?"

You get your answer in his kiss, Angel ducking to throw you over his shoulder, smacking your ass all the way to the bedroom.

He's a simple creature. Nudity pressing against him always works to deflate that fiery temper of his.