#the halo is so stressed you guys

[the-darkness-does-not-bargain]

Ghost au 👀👀👀, I mainly just want to yell about Shannon and Ava’s potential relationship dynamics

Let's set the scene:

Shannon has just died. The Halo was removed from her body less than 30 seconds ago. The mercenaries attack and the medic takes the Halo down to the morgue and hides it in Ava. Ava gets resurrected, but the girls regroup faster than they did in the show, and find her before she escapes. They uhhhhhhhhhhhh kill her. Or at least, Lilith kills her and takes the Halo back.

The Halo is stressed, okay? Probably never in history have two of its Bearers been killed in such rapid succession. So if it gets a little upset, a little fucky perhaps, who could blame it? Thus, through some truly biblical Fuckening, Shannon and Ava wake up next to each other on neighboring autopsy tables. Sitting above their own dead bodies.

They're both confused. Shannon is upset. Ava is just processing the fact that she can move again. Neither are in the right headspace for calm conversation or critical thinking. Shannon wants to find the other girls. Ava wants to get as far away from them as possible (since they just killed her. She’s 2 for 2 on being murdered by nuns.). She also wants to enjoy her new ghost status and use it to finally experience the world (I'm imagining ghosts in this setting can feel and interact with the world to some degree).

They resolve to go their separate ways but oops, not so fast! Due to Ghost Fuckery, they are unable to stand more than like 15 feet apart at any given time, so if they head in opposite directions, no one's going anywhere. This leads to arguing. Shannon tries very hard to explain how dire her situation is, but she's talking to a scared, defiant teenager who her sisters just killed. Ava kinda shouts that at her during the heat of it, shocking Shannon and bringing the fight to a stalemate.

They try to give each other some space, as much as 15 feet will allow them, and eventually start talking a bit more normally, with Shannon apologizing to Ava and trying to be more tactful in explaining her position. Ava is still skeptical, but she concedes that staying in the morgue is counterproductive to her goal of seeing the world.

So eventually she agrees to go with Shannon, and they set out for Cat's Cradle. Let the ghost buddy cop hijinks ensue!

[honkytonk-hangman]

Line of Sight

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You're almost certain that Jake Seresin could care less about you, that is, until you're in a tight spot and the one guy you assume will hang you out to dry, instead comes to your rescue.

Warnings: language, creepy club dudes, hangman being a little cold but actually he's just shyyyyyy

Notes: this is for @ussgallifrey who let me bang on about the feelings this man has given me <3 honestly this might turn into a mini-series because i havent even begun to resolve all my emotions about this whole vibe yet

Series Masterlist

“Wait, is that Rooster?” you frown, trying to duck your head to see around the crowd of people at the club bar, your straw falling away from your lips as you do. “And Payback, and–” you cut yourself off, now certain of who and what you were seeing, and turn to look accusingly at your companions. Next to you, Phoenix follows your line of sight, but shrugs, seemingly unbothered about the impromptu appearance of the rest of Dagger Squad. Across from you, Halo winces guiltily, and lowers her brightly coloured cocktail away from her face.

“I may have mentioned our little soiree, and extended the invitation…” she admits, before hurriedly placing down her drink altogether and lifting her hands in a surrendering motion. “Look, in my defence, we’re all friends, and whatever you think about Hangman–”

“–It’s not what I think, Cal! It’s him who clearly doesn’t think much about me!” you stress, a little frustrated that your carefree girls night was now going to end up like all the other weekend nights you’ve had since befriending Dagger.

You loved Dagger, you really really did. They had welcomed you unofficially into the squad with open arms after Phoenix and Bob had adopted you one night at the Hard Deck. You’d been stood up, then dumped unceremoniously, and after crying off all your makeup in the bathroom, you’d been comforted by Nat, who had then introduced you to all her friends, all of whom seemed to dedicate the rest of their night to cheering you up. 

It was funny now to think that that was how this all started, but soon enough you were close with all of them. Well, almost all of them.

Hangman had been nice enough that first night, but after that it seemed as though he could care less about your presence at all. He wasn’t ever actively rude or mean to you, not at all, instead it was like you were just perpetually a stranger. Him snarking at you would be a step up, in your opinion. At least then you’d feel like he saw you as a friend, but as it stands now, his tight smiles and quiet chortles felt like a slap in the face compared to the mega-watt grins and regular peacockish behaviour he’d display with his other friends.

You hate yourself a little that it affects you so much. You know it shouldn’t, but you can’t help it. You liked Hangman. Although a little prideful and pricklish, you could see yourself getting along with him quite well, could exchange banter with him nicely, if he’d ever actually give you a chance. It certainly didn’t help that you weren’t immune to the way he looked, perfect in every single sense, smoulderingly hot even when he wasn’t trying. He was exactly your type, right down to a T, including, you suppose, the fact that he didn’t want you at all.

It had been bothering you more and more recently, and where once you would just shrug him off, now you realise, you’ve been actively avoiding hanging out with your friends, just to sidestep the kick in the guts that came every time he fixed you with a level, seemingly emotionless pity-smile. This week would mark one year since the night you’d been dumped and subsequently picked up again, and if you’d thought about it for longer than five seconds, you’d have agreed with Halo that you should have been celebrating with all your friends.

Phoenix easily waves down the boys, and soon enough your tall standing table is filled out with the rest of the team, and you let yourself relax for a moment as you accept several hugs, the longest of which is with Javy, who shakes you a little as he does, before he reaches for your drink and finishes it off in one.

“Happy one year, bay-bay!” he announces cheekily in the face of your protest, and you playfully swat him away. Coyote relents, but leans back just enough, with his mouth open, and you roll your eyes, before plucking the maraschino cherry from your now empty glass and placing it between his teeth.

The display is enough to make you laugh genuinely, and you watch with a far more relaxed and happy grin as Javy pushes back from the table, pointing at you, Phoenix and Halo.

“Another?” he asks, quickly gathering everyone’s orders and announcing the first round was on him as he disappears toward the bar. Unfortunately, that is when you realise his empty spot at the table is stepped into by someone else, and despite yourself, you can’t help but look.

If you hadn't known that he’d only just arrived, you might have fooled yourself into thinking Hangman been here all along, with how natural he looks leaning with one arm against the table, his eyes scanning the club behind you over your head as you take him in.

You refrain from cursing at just how good he looks in civvies. It was rare you’d see him in anything aside from either his flight suit or his tan uniform, and you’re fairly certain the only other time you had was at one of Dagger’s many beach parties, where he’d been barely dressed at all. Now though, Hangman is filling out a pair of dark wash jeans and a silk jade-green button down like nobody's business, his hair for once not slicked back and styled for work, and he has what you can only assume must be several days worth of stubble.

He looks goddamn good, and you almost vibrate all the way across the room because of it.

Bright green eyes suddenly lock on to yours, and you most hope he calls you out for staring, teases you relentlessly, but after a moment, he simply nods at you, and turns inward to the table.

“You look great,” he says simply, and after letting out a quiet sigh, you choose not to let this ruin your night.

“Thanks, so do you,” you reply, maybe a little sadder sounding than you intended. Hangman glances back over at you and your heart skips just a little when he lifts his chin at you.

“Same dress you were wearing the night that asshole dumped you, right?” His voice holds slightly more humorous inflection than usual and you hate yourself a little bit more for living for the crumbs he gives you.

“Yeah. figured it was thematic or whatever. Look at me now, and all that,” you wave a hand, and really try hard not to sound so glum this time, but you’re not sure it works. Hangman cocks his head, and you swear you see a playful glint spark in his eyes just as he opens his mouth, but unfortunately you never get to hear what he has to say, because Javy chooses that moment to reappear, placing down an armful of drinks and beers right between you.

With the reappearance of his friend, Hangman seems to go back to ignoring you, and you go back to pretending that it doesn’t bother you.

—

Five minutes ago you had been dancing wildly and laughing with Rooster and Phoenix, three drinks down and getting your giggle on. Now though, you’d managed to lose both your friends in the crowd, which had been okay at first, you weren’t exactly a wallflower and didn’t mind getting your flirt on with a stranger or two, but now, you were wishing hard that at any moment either Rooster or Phoenix might show back up again and save you.

While you weren’t a wallflower, you also weren’t anywhere near as cock-sure as Halo or Phoenix, you weren’t the type of girl who felt comfortable stamping on a creep’s foot and telling him to fuck off and that you weren’t interested.

Which is exactly what you wanted to do right now.

You were trying to be polite still, for some reason, but the drinks in your system prevent you from really reacting as necessary, even as you attempt to move the hands of the guy you're dancing with back to your hips and away from your ass.

“Hey, look, I’m going to get a drink!” you yell over the music, trying to extract yourself from this guy, but just as your luck would have it, he nods happily and makes to move with you, his hands still trying to feel you up.

You move anyway, hoping that at least you might be able to lose him in the crowd, but your new shadow seems determined to stick with you. You really don’t know at this point how to shake him, and as a last resort, you desperately begin scanning the edges of the crowd for any of your friends, so you can try and make eyes for them to bail you out.

Strangely, all your friends seem to have disappeared from the table you’d left them at, even Rooster and Phoenix are nowhere in sight, but you do catch sight of something familiar toward the bar. For once you don’t dread the sight of Hangman and his expressionless gaze, and for once, you attempt to maintain eye contact with him as he glances almost dismissively over at you.

Maybe it’s the look on your face that causes him to doubletake back at you when he briefly looks away, but whatever it is, you’re glad for it, because the next thing you know, the blond is frowning at you, his eyes flickering between you and your unwanted companion. You watch as he straightens up from leaning against the bar, his face filled with the kind of determination that you had only seen on him during the more heated rounds of pool at the Hard Deck.

You could almost let out a cry of joy when he pushes away from the bar and begins beelining towards you, seemingly making sure that he doesn’t lose sight of you even despite the throng of people that he has to weave in and out of. When he’s only a few metres away, his expression shifts from almost angry, into an easy cocky smile that he’s never directed toward you before. It nearly throws you off step, but even if it had, it wouldn’t have been an issue. In a few short strides, Hangman is in front of you, his arm smoothly slung around your shoulder and he uses it to tug you a few steps into his side, and away from your prior dance partner.

“There you are,” he says sweetly, actually sounding glad to see you for once. In your sheer relief at his rescue, you let your hand fall to his chest, your fingertips gliding over the soft silk of his shirt, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You blink up, mouth open to utter a soft thank you, and get ready to excuse yourself from the other man’s company, but a tugging at your hand cuts you off.

“Uh, I thought we were getting a drink,” the other guy interrupts, looking accusingly between you and Hangman. The blond barely even looks at him, an insult you know well, before he’s focused back on you, and arm around your shoulder pulling you even closer into him, and forcing your dance partner to release you.

“I’ll take it from here,” Hangman says to him, though he’s gazing at you, doing a damn convincing job of seeming lovesick. “You thirsty, sweetheart?” he adds as he begins to turn you, lead you away from the scene, and you find yourself embarrassingly speechless, only able to nod at for once being on the receiving end of Hangman’s notorious charm.

“Whatever, just so you know man, she didn’t say she was taken,” you hear from behind you. 

“She shouldn’t have to.” Hangman doesn’t even stop moving as he turns his head to shoot back, though his voice is filled with more annoyance than you’ve ever heard from him before. You could almost trick yourself into thinking he was actually mad on your behalf.

“Fucking slut.” The words are just loud enough for the both of you to hear, and even though you tense up at the accusation, you expect the both of you to keep moving, at least until you’re away from this guy. That doesn’t happen though. Hangman does stop this time, though unlike before, you don’t see a trace of anger on his face. Instead, he takes a step back toward the other man, his arm dropping from your shoulders to wrap snugly around your waist. He smiles wide and full, completely infuriatingly, and you see him size up the creep, look him deliberately up and down before he tips his head and opens his mouth.

“And yet, she’s still not going to fuck you,” he stays smiling, wide and cheshire-like. You feel yourself drop into a pool of complete and utter enamour with him, as at last he pulls you away again, leaving your unwanted partner behind, mouthing dumbly at the killer of a takedown he’d just endured, now totally forgotten by the both of you.

You’re still recovering from the utter annihilation when you finally reach the bar, and at last Hangman lets his hold on you drop, and he comes to stand next to you at the bar. He’s still grinning, though it looks like it's to himself, but it widens ever so slightly when he glances down at you while motioning for the bartender. He orders himself another beer, and the same cocktail Javy had stolen from you earlier before you’re finally able to get your thoughts straight again.

“Thanks for that,” you say, nodding towards the dance floor. Hangman looks almost surprised for a few seconds before he shrugs and pays the waiting barman.

“S’nothing.” he waves you off, but fixes you again with a slight frown moments later. “Are you alright? You looked pretty upset when you were trying to shake him.”

You think this might be the most genuine emotion the man has ever shown you, and you’re too far gone to question why, for now you simply want to bask in it.

“I’m no good at telling guys to piss off. Mostly they get the hint, but sometimes… that’s why I always stick with Phoenix or Halo,” you explain a little bashfully. You know how confrontational Hangman can be, you’d seen it for yourself tonight, so you know he likely sees your lack of assertiveness as some kind of weakness. Maybe that was why he didn’t like you?

Hangman frowns again, deeply this time, and hands you your drink. For a while he doesn't say anything, but it makes you anxious the way he doesn’t stop staring at you even as he takes a good long drink of his beer. After a moment he relaxes somewhat and glances away. You’re hoping maybe he’ll drop it, or maybe some of your friends will come along and spare you whatever comes next, but he doesn’t, and they don’t.

Hangman points back toward the dance floor with his beer hand and fixes you with a hard, intent stare.

“You feel like that again, you come find me, alright? I’ll tell them where they can go,” the blond tells you firmly, making you blink and splutter, but he holds up his hand and waves you off before you can deny him.

“Halo doesn’t always come out with us, and Phoenix and Rooster are currently eating face, so,” he takes half a step toward you and leans lower into your space, almost making you stumble back. “Next time,” he slings his arm across your shoulder again and grins almost maniacally. “Let Hangman sort them out for you.”

For the first time you really feel like perhaps Hangman is warming up to you. No longer were you feeding off the crumbs of attention, now you see the man revel in your sputtering embarrassment, fully teasing you like you’d wish he would for the past year. You were in his sights now, and you feel your whole body trill with satisfaction.

[clairdelunelove]

I just know that itadori yuuji would be the guy on the beach that you get a glimpse of and never forget. 

what started out as a summer trip planned by friends turned into more of a self-care day that you all could share. to take a break from the usual, mundane cycle of school and work. just a pause to relax due to the rare occasion you all can clear your schedules to enjoy your youth. to have a little fun. to breathe in some fresh air and soak up some sun. you weren’t expecting a flawless trip; in fact, you kept your expectations pretty low and didn’t stress too much about the logistics. nothing too hectic. thus, when it was a blazingly hot day with not a single cloud scattered across the cerulean sky and the wind was perfect– traveling to the beach was a no-brainer. so after packing a few essentials you all hit the road. the car ride was a jumble of upbeat, carefree music and all the radio’s top tracks. with the car’s windows rolled down, your group of friends zealously croon all the wrong lyrics with pride and erupt in laughter when people from other cars stare a bit too intently. bright, mirthful smiles on all your faces in hopes of making new memories with this trip. just a good time, overall. 

so imagine your surprise when your friends assign you to unpack the beach chairs from the car and drag them over to the designated spot. in their defense, it’s a beautiful spot. the ideal blend of shade and dazzling sunlight since it’s right underneath the beach’s main cove. it overlooks golden sand that’s bordered by the water’s white foam due to the spilling waves that caress the shoreline. not to mention that the water is superbly tepid, the right temperature that has your friends sighing in content. it’s the hangout spot that anyone would treasure for the day. extraordinarily so, that your friends immediately grab a handful of items (towels, bags, etc.) from the car’s trunk and quickly dash to claim it. leaving you to haul the heavier pieces by yourself.

“guys! seriously?” you rhetorically ask, aware that your voice wasn’t going to reach them from how far they were. 

a heavy exhale leaves your lips as you continue to heave the obnoxiously colored chairs across the sand. you suppose that this was probably the best option, though. the beach already had a handful of people scattered along the stretch of land and it was bound to get busier by the second. but the heft of the chairs, coupled with your need to briskly catch up to your friends, proved to be more responsibility than you can manage. it happens abruptly. before your grip on the aluminum handles slip, a heavy hand descends to alleviate the extra weight and you’re face-to-face with the most attractive stranger you’ve ever laid your eyes on. 

“need a hand?” 

and a part of you wishes to blurt that you might need more than just his hand. because he’s stunning– in the way that causes your face to warm as your eyes drag along his physique. his skin is glowy like he’s grazed by sunlight itself and brushed with freckles that you yearn to trace your fingers over. his hair is a blushy, vibrant shade that creates a halo behind him and emphasizes his boyish charm. and his smile, the one that good-naturedly curves along his lips, is blinding as he regards you. he’s clad in a white tank top and swim trunks, although, you’ve never quite seen such prominent dips of muscle despite him being completely covered up.

you stutter out your gratitude, too occupied with furiously bowing your head to notice how his gaze shifts to do an inquisitive once-over. and he already knows he’s in trouble. you’re oh so pretty; big, sparkly eyes and glossy lips. a voice that sounds like someone slowly plucking the strings of a violin. soft skin that gleams. his dream girl. knocks the wind out of his chest and he discreetly clears his throat in order to speak. 

“don’t worry ‘bout it,” he mentions while drawing a finger to bashfully swipe at his nose, “just didn’t wanna see such a pretty girl in distress.” 

and you can already tell he’s sickeningly sweet. not like the type that you usually run into when you’re strolling through the city streets. no, you were certain that he wasn’t from around here. probably stored away in a faraway town that you’d never have the chance to visit. after all, the boys that pursued you were accustomed to low effort and unkept promises. not him, however.

hands raised in alarm, he hastily tries to correct his overly blunt compliment and you’re left giggling at his dismay. 

“the ball, dude!” 

a group of athletic males, you assume they’re the stranger’s friends, holler at him as they point to the volleyball that rolled beside you. must’ve been launched over when you were focused on the attractive stranger. you awkwardly shift your feet. of course, all good things must come to an end. too much heaven is bound to make a person selfish. but this was almost too quick for you to thoroughly enjoy. he remains unmoving despite his friends’ chiding for him to come back so they can resume their game. almost reluctant. his gaze deviates to the ball and then goes back to you. a glimmer in his disheartened eyes. 

you glance over, shyly smiling at his unwillingness to hurry back to them, “I think they’re waiting for you.” 

and that breaks him out of stupor. he bites his lower lip, seemingly debating, and promptly utters another apology. quips about how impatient they are over a silly game of beach volleyball. muttering about how they had all day to play. the words spill out of his mouth. reasoning to explain the short-lived encounter. and you can’t help but swoon because he has such a boyish charm to him. 

yet, before you can take your leave, the blushy-haired male blurts, “can you give me a second?” 

“please.” 

recognizes that he’s got you hook, line, and sinker when you press your lips together with an appeased nod. you’re fighting off the beginnings of a smile as he visibly perks up at your response. like a dog finally rewarded with a treat after a session of training. he scoops up the volleyball, eagerly tosses it back to his friends, and mentions for them to not wait up for him. doesn’t bat an eye to how the ball whizzes past them and into the sea. never thought twice about his appalling strength.

and he’s giddy now. all dizzying grins and flighty movements. it's almost too adorable. accidentally brushes against your hand as he’s walking and hastily pulls away like he’d been burned. visibly gulps when you teasingly smooth your hand over his shoulder. and his eyes flutter in desperation when your fingers gently card along his soft hair. though, his eyes never leave yours. they're the perfect shade of liquid honey. makes you reminisce of apricot trees and apple pies. set in determination to etch you into his mind. you'll be in his memory forever. and it’s mushy and gentle. you never want this day to end. 

yuuji ends up carrying all your beach chairs in one strong hand. wasn’t too inclined to accept your compliments for his strength but he does notice how your gaze often drifts to the apparent veins on his forearms. he never comments on it, however. just causes him to puff up in pride when he offers you his other arm and you hold onto it for stability (or so he believes). such a pretty sight as you waltz in the sand and throw him an overjoyed smile when you pick up sparkling seashells. you’re completely satiated. an unexpected surprise during the lax, summery trip. a drop of saccharine that sent his dull world plummeting into the deepest depths of the very sea that you pranced along. and if your friends notice the rather recent and charming addition to their group, one that hangs upon your every word– they don’t mention it.

at least now they have someone to carry all their heavy stuff for them. 

[floylia]

# MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾

04. I’m so wet tonight 💌

Destiny and fate are liken to strings you can’t untangle with ease. Two simple words with inexplainable concepts. A belief split into millions of definition.

But this might be fate—a doomed fate.

Cerulean eyes meet yours upon striding inside the store. The contact lasts longer than necessary. But within those few seconds, recognition is acknowledged on both sides.

That fateful day when a guy embarrassed himself and you watched it unfold.

You thought that was the last of it. Perhaps not.

You scan the small dairy isle, searching for an energy drink and a bucket of ice cream, while ignoring the pleads in the back of your head—constantly screeching about the humiliating past.

But who are you to feel embarrassed for him?

Why do you feel shame in the first place?

“Cash or card?”

“Cash.” You pass him the total amount, grabbing the wrinkled change you had in your wallet.

He takes it hesitantly, “By the way, about last time...”

Here we go.

“There was a rat in the locker room so I ran out like that. As for what I said… I don’t remember why I did that. But I promise, I’m not… a pervert,” The last phrase was faint as he whispers it in a breath.

You chuckle, “It made me laugh, don’t worry.”

One moment ago he was a grey cutout, now colors are back in his face as a grin reaches the wrinkles of his eyes, “So we’re cool?”

He looks like a dog wagging his tail after seeing a treat.

You nod, “Was that bothering you for a while?”

He breathes a sigh of relief—staring at you as if he had been derived of oxygen, “Yes! I was tossing my body back and forth that night, because my head refused to stop replaying the scene every time I closed my eyes. Can you imagine yourself doing that? Here I thought I was being mysterious.”

Not a single bone in his body was mysterious.

“People remember their own embarrassing moments more than other people’s, don’t stress about it.”

He shows his paper white teeth, “You have a way with words.”

“And you don’t,” You blurt out, recalling that moment.

Laughter engulfs the tense atmosphere.

“Fair enough. Fair enough. I’ll never live that down. My friends tease me enough already,” he hands you your change and the plastic bag worth of snacks.

The pit-a-patter outside makes your head swerve towards the window. Rain droplets fall from the heavens, gearing up as you spend minutes inside the establishment.

Checking the weather today slipped your mind, otherwise you would have brought an umbrella. Even though your dorm is nearby, running through the heavy downpour is not something you enjoy doing on a school night.

Navia would jerk her head in disapproval.

The ginger must have realized your conundrum.

“Here,” He offers you a small black umbrella, “You can use this.”

“No, no it’s alright. You might need to use that later.”

He shakes his head, “The store owns it. We have extra. Just borrow it for tonight. Then you can come back and return it. Think of this as an apology.”

“Thank you. I didn’t want to be drenched today. I’ll return this, I promise!”

A gentle smile pervades his face as he waves a goodbye. He observes you, crossing the street from the foggy window until your silhouette fades with the night sky.

In truth, the store didn’t own the umbrella. They don’t have an extra. It was his — but that is his little secret.

No harm done with a white lie.

NOTES:

kinda rushed (wrote the written parts in one night, i dont usually finish fics in one sitting)

ig he gained aura points?

was gonna post this later but fuck it 🤷‍♀️

SYNOPSIS: There’s a line Childe knows he shouldn’t cross; A line built on years of friendship; A line that happens to cross you, his best friend’s younger sister, grieving her first love; A line where he plays savior, wears a halo, then feign ignorance, because love is a game for fools—and he happens to be the biggest idiot when it comes to love.

When a new stranger invades your life and an old poet writes back.

CHILDE x FEM!READER

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TAGLIST (OPEN!): @thegalaxyisunfolding @stratusworld @tiramizuloz @miy-svz @trulyylee @batatinhafriita @scaradooche @yuminako @m1njizzie @mtndewbajablasted @fadedpinkpen @vavrin @kioffy @kokoomie @ashveil @tired-jaz @nia333 @riabriyn @kyon-cherri @kitsunetori @morgyyyyyyy @kazumiku @ichorstainedskin @hanilessa @s4ikooo1 @matolka @appy-slicez @monocerosei @mostlymoth @heathnyfangirl @meigalaxy

[shidouryusm]

Making out with roomie!Gojo

gojo x fem!reader

content: heated makeout sessions, lots and lots of kisses, lots of touching and grinding, they might as well fuck

Roomie!Gojo might just be one of the most insufferable, undisciplined, agitating, obnoxious and vexatious individuals and the primary source of your stress. His messy and completely contrasting lifestyle more often than not clashes with yours, leaving echoes of dispute and feud all over the house; his disgusting habits irking you beyond control. But, arguing with Gojo will always be a losing battle, given that his tantalizing personality isn’t much of a help either. That doesn’t stop you from pissing him off either, your snarky mouth and the tendency to put him back to his place makes him scoff as well, giving you the ultimate satisfaction.

However, roomie!Gojo might also just be one of the best kissers you’ve ever come across. Those tension filled arguments always ending up with his mouth fiercely pressed against yours, both of you delving deeper into the lust birthing from the fire of anger you throw at him. 

Just like now, when some argument about a stupid towel ended up with you straddling him in the living room. 

Gojo settles on the couch, perching you up in his lap. his hands placed firmly on the dips of your hips. your mouth is pressed into a searing kiss against his, moving in tandem. you tug on his hair, needing something to ground you as his soft lips moving against yours sends you into oblivion of pleasure. You feel Gojo’s groans, the vibrations erupting from his chest, seeping into yours from how closely you are pressed against him. 

“Not so much of a word coming out of you now, baby. Can't deny i like you this way” gojo mutters, his lips engulfing your upper lips, his hands cupping your cheek, thumb stroking your jaws gently, contrasting the menace he usually is. You pull his hair, pressing yourself against him without any response, your mouth still lingering with the spearmint flavoured gum you had.

The feel of your mouth and the pull of his hair makes Gojo tremble underneath you. You’ve always been so beautiful but now? The outline of your body radiating from the light behind you and it couldn’t be any less than a halo glowing out of you. Gojo could feel his heart hammering sporadically, and it’s certainly not just because of the heated kiss you guys shared. His hands glide down you, stroking your sides and memorising each of your dips and curves. 

You shift on top of him, positioning yourself in a way your hips are right above his groin , grinding down into him. Gojo lets out a groan, feeling you against him, his hands subconsciously travelling down your ass - giving it a rough squeeze before manoeuvring your movements against him, increasing the tempo. You let out a moan, digging your nails into his arms and Gojo feels euphoric, your hums and moans melodiously ringing in his ears. He bucks his hips up, right against your core, eliciting a moan from you.

“F-fuck, you’re so pretty when you don’t run that mouth of yours” Gojo hums, he is not lying. you roll your eyes. no amount of lust or ardor can sway his scumbag personality. finding no words to shut him up, you press down on him, still lingering your lips over his swollen ones, your breaths fanning and exchanging with his in the synapse of your lips.

In response, Gojo yanks your head to the side, as he drags his lips towards your neck, pressing sloppy kisses all over the expanse of your skin, meticulously down to your collarbones. hands pressed on your lower back.

He nips at the skin, earning a small whine, making him smirk against you. He litters your skin with small pecks, before connecting his lips back with yours. He pushes his tongue inside you, finding yours; leaning forward as he puts more pressure. The change in posture makes your core grind right above his crotch, making Gojo groan. a bit more loudly this time.

“S-shit, I’ll bust a nut right here…” 

“Pfft…weak” you scoff, trying your best to provoke him as much as you can.

“Didn’t I just tell you to keep your pretty mouth shut?” Gojo’s one hand is wrapped around your hair, driving your face towards him as he intensifies the kiss. His other hand travels towards your tits, grabbing and squeezing one in his hand, shutting you up. 

“G-gojo…” his name tumbles off your tongue. It has a nice ring to it, you wonder distantly. Gojo may get on every single nerve of yours but he is also the one who wanders around the house shamelessly without a shirt, putting your mind into a drive of not-so-appropriate thoughts. He is also the one who may demolish the whole kitchen, while making a simple soup – but he does it because you’re too sick to get out of the bed or you’re drowning in studies in the midst of finals. Gojo also may be the biggest cock-block you’ve ever seen to your dates but he is fending them off because they are assholes who can’t think of anything but how to get in your pants, not before long fucking you and giving you earth shattering orgasms throughout the night. His lips are even a thousand times better than anyone's that you've kissed. They are soft and plush, giving you the satisfaction of pulling them between your teeth and biting softly at it. Apart from the fights and grinding your gears- gojo satoru may not be half as bad-

The rough pads of his fingers pinches your nipple through the flimsy shirt, earthing you back to reality. You break the kiss off, catching him off-guard before ducking down and attacking his neck. Your hands wrapped around the nape, raking through the tufts of hair that falls over his undercut.

 Your mouth is skillfully sucking the skin under his ear, his most sensitive spot. You could almost hear a small whimper escape his mouth, making you smirk against his skin. His hands are on your waist, still grinding you against him for some release. Pervert

You raise your head, getting a good look at him. His lips are rosy, swollen from the incessant attacks over the course of this session, a sheen of sweat beading on his face and his hair messily scattered over his forehead. he looks painfully beautiful, although you might wanna pour a vat of acid down your throat before admitting it in front of him. but you can’t deny the desire that pools around your eyes, mirroring his ocean blue ones. You could feel his hardness directly underneath you, throbbing against your skin, making you breathe heavily. 

“don’t keep your disgusting wet towel on my bed ever” you hear Gojo let out a boyish chuckle, something that was too giddy for your own good. fuck

“If the consequences ends up like this, I might entertain this idea more, sweetheart”

“Fuck you, Gojo”

“let me do the honours baby” 

Roomie!Gojo may be a scum, an utter mess and the absolute bane of your existence but you’d be damned before exchanging anyone with him.

I was this close to write the whole fucking. If it does good I might 👀 (1k and I will do it💀)

[jaehunnyy]

Seonghwa headcanons - He needs a partner for the family dinner

Genre: fake dating, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

Word count: 1k

Pairing: Seonghwa x gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of a forced relationship, kissing, time skip, a shitty ex, possible grammar mistakes

a/n: happy belated birthday to my love @starrysvn! i hope you will accept this gift from your secret santa; im sorry it took quite a lot and ik it might be a bit rusty, but i made it with love so i hope you will enjoy it 🤍❄️

☆ To say Seonghwa was stressed was an understatement—the boy was devastated the moment his lover (better said, ex) broke up with him, right before the Christmas dinner they planned with his family. 

☆ There he found himself, trapped in the dirty abyss of overthinking as he tried to find a way to make it through—though it seemed quite impossible. 

☆ All the people who could have possibly helped him have already left to the comfort of their homes, leaving him alone in the campus; or so he thought, before an idea snapped through his pretty head.

☆ He knew from a friend that Y/n was never leaving for Christmas due to how far they lived, so that meant that maybe they were still around the campus; and as bad as he felt for having to ask you this as you didn’t really know lots about each other (you were simple acquaintances due to some common friends you two shared), he decided that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask. 

☆ He had always admired your beautiful soul and your bright eyes, but his ex didn’t really let him approach you due to the unnecessary possessiveness they felt over Seonghwa (and still, they had the heart to leave him). 

☆ You were throwing a little concert in your room, dancing and singing quite loudly to try and make your holidays a bit more interesting; little did you know they were about to be the most interesting ones in a while. 

☆ You heard a knock on your door, wondering who the person who dared to bother you from your daily routine was—and as soon as you saw a halo of blonde, ravished hair in front of you, you started to get more curious. 

“Seonghwa? Shouldn’t you be home since like—a day ago?” 

☆ The boy shrugged, an innocent, playful smile stretching the corners of his lips, stars beaming at his beautiful, dark eyes. 

“Change of plans? Kind of spontaneous? Are you in for a challenge?” 

☆ His giggles filled the hallway with so much joy, that despite knowing there weren’t people around, you pushed him inside your room like you were scared to get caught in the middle of a dirty act. 

“Did you drink?” 

“Just a shot—for courage, you know.” 

☆ His warm smile flashed before your eyes again, and you were kind of invested in hearing the challenge. 

☆ You had a tiiiiiny, silly crush on him, mayhaps—cause his beautiful smile and warm persona absolutely didn’t go unnoticed by you; though you were still in your denial phase. 

☆ You gesture that he could start telling you his dramatic story, so he began to tell you about the partner who left him brokenhearted right before the holidays, and how he needed someone to go home with, as promised to his parents. 

“Can’t you just tell them the truth? Things would get pretty nasty if they found out you lied to them.”  

☆ Truth is, Seonghwa just wanted to prove himself capable in front of his family for once; he had two months to bring someone home and present them to his family, otherwise they would just throw him in the claws of a person he didn’t know—for business proposals. 

“Please, just consider it. I need you, please. You are my last escape.” 

☆ Maybe considering it didn’t sound too bad, regarding your current situation—you wanted to spice up your own holiday, so would you prefer drinking and staying on your campus, eating ice cream alone for the New Year, or pretending to love a very handsome guy and have a bit of fun? 

☆ The latter surely sounded like the best option. 

☆ As for the acting? You weren’t scared; you were quite sure someone who can’t read through their son’s own needs and preferences won’t be able to see behind your fake heart eyes (maybe they weren’t even that fake, to start with). 

“So, when are we leaving?” 

The tall guy jumped in happiness, giving you a discreet hug before giving you more information as an impulse for you to pack faster. 

☆ His house was as cozy as it could be, the beautiful, warm Christmas lights making you feel all fuzzy inside—you missed your own home. 

☆ His parents seemed like good people (despite trying to set him off with a random someone, claiming it was for his good), and you could see where their son got his genes from; they were absolutely gorgeous. 

☆ You couldn’t help but cringe a bit when his dad took your hand into his and kissed it, happy to finally meet his son’s (fake) partner; yet it all went away when Seonghwa held your other hand comfortingly, giving you the boost of confidence that you needed. 

☆ His mom was looking as if she knew that something was going on, a pretty smile plastered on her face while looking at the two of you. 

☆ The rest of the night went smooth, full of little chatters and chortles as you found them effortlessly funny; but also full of little timid glances shared between you and your fake boyfriend.

“How much time do you think they need until they fall in love completely?” 

☆ His mom asked his father, laughing while watching the two of you sip your hot choccies in front of the fireplace. 

“They will surely realize how real their fake situationship is quickly.”  

☆ His family adored you so much that Seonghwa started to believe his real partner would have messed everything up—so he took having you by his side as a sign. 

“3, 2, 1, Happy New Year!” 

☆ The loud, happy cheers of everyone around you resonated through your ears as the fireworks bloomed into the beautiful night sky. 

☆ You looked in Seonghwa’s direction, just to see him already looking back at you—plump lips slightly parted and eyes focused on your own. 

“Is this the moment where we kiss?” 

☆ He giggled, cupping your face and nodding at your bold words. 

☆ He pressed his soft lips on yours, and you felt like they were made just for you—like Cupid’s final touch to the red string attached to your souls.  

“Is it too soon to say I don’t want this to be fake anymore?” 

“Kiss me one more time and you will find out.” 

☆ Seems like you found your second home, in the arms of the not-so-fake partner of yours.

[starryficsfinishwen]

stolen — lee x f!commandant

The summer sun is gentle on his skin.

A streak of sunlight slipping through the curtains, dancing on the surface of his skin. A gentle roar of the wind knocking on the walls, tickling his exposed neck. Summer was gentle, summer was kind, the humid breeze enough to lull Lee back to sleep—a feeling that Lee was both familiar and unfamiliar with.

And so was the tiny affirmation of a gargled yawn from a baby.

Wait—baby?

Lee opens his eyes out of surprise. Instead of the cold, gray hues of the training room, a warm honey brown paints him a picture. Wooden walls and chairs in the living room, a veranda with the free-flowing white curtains. The ceiling was enough too, a small lamp dangling.

Looking down, in his arms cradled a small baby inside of a white cloth, innocent eyes closed as it snuggled for warmth.

It must have been the afternoon nap, Lee deducts, he must have fallen asleep while resting from training. By now, he should have been alert. This new scenery was something that Babylonia could never achieve. Yet, instead of fear, content and familiarity fills his senses.

“—ray brought us some fresh vegetables today, so no need to buy some.”

Turning to the sound of a new voice, Lee meets warm, homey eyes looking at him.

“Honey!” you warmly greeted, the familiar smile reaching your twinkling eyes, “Sorry I took so long to come home, was he too fussy?”

Lee's mouth drops. So could have his body, but the hold in his arms strengthened instinctively, to not drop the fragile baby. Oh, he couldn't believe his eyes.

“...Commandant?”

The last time he saw you, your uniform was freshly washed and ironed, hugging your taut figure and watching him with tired eyes. You were on your way to a short mission. But now—hair down, a pretty sundress flowing as the wind blows, and face devoid of any stress.

You look magnificent as ever, glowing bright in the afternoon mist.

As a comfortable silence encloses both of you, you seem to recognize the confusion in his stare. With a small laugh and a shake of your head, you slowly sauntered to Lee.

“Yes, Lee.” You softly said, “it's me.”

Lee senses no malice nor anything bad about you. You were the truth—the same aura that he had long sensed from you, whether in uniform or not.

You reached out to take the little baby in his arms, letting him go free from Lee's arms. With a gentle smile, you said, “I see our little man has been good to you.”

Our little man? A flutter erupts in Lee's chest. “Yes, I was worried he was asleep far too long because he hadn't cried.”

“I guess he's been tired too,” You laugh, finger hovering above the baby's sleeping face, “he was the one who kept waking up anyways. He needed his nap.”

Ah, it really is the afternoon. The summer breeze blowing, your sundress in the wind, a gentle ray of light haloing your figures. Watching as you step back, cradling the small baby in your arms with a motherly gaze. Lee's heart, although had been long mechanical for as long as he could remember, started to throb harder. How simple this scenery unfolded in front of him, yet it was incredibly intimate.

Maybe it was the heat. Or maybe it was really how nice you looked, caring for the baby. Or maybe it was...

“You...” Lee mutters, which catches your attention, “...you are so beautiful.”

And your laugh still sounds the same. Like a jingle of a bell, and it makes his chest beat wildly. A faint blush dusts your cheeks, as you slowly swing the baby.

“So I've been told,” you wave your hand, a noticeable glint of something golden as sunlight hits, “And you are handsome yourself, Lee.”

Looking from you, Lee glances at the baby back in your arms. With a small crack of his tiny eyes, he yawns, a small cry from his throat. Lee slightly jumps from his actions.

“Oh, are you awake, little guy?” You cooed, both of you watching as the baby slowly wakes up.

How tender it is—such a fragile thing to awaken in your arms. And yet, the sense of content and pride wells up once more in his chest, seeing you cradle your bundle of joy. You must have looked so ethereal like this in a different life.

With a little kiss to his forehead, you look at Lee, who was eyeing him curiously. “Look, little Aidan, your papa is here.”

Lee freezes, both fear and surprise. “Papa?”

“Mm,” you hum, bringing Aidan closer, “He's our baby, Lee. Our little pride and joy.”

How was it possible? Lee couldn't think further, as tears began to well up in his eyes, “Ah...our baby...”

Reaching out to touch his face, Aidan's tiny hands managed to hold onto Lee's finger. A content squeal chokes out of your baby's mouth, eyes slowly opening to reveal beautiful cerulean irises. A similar glint of a golden band from his outstretched hand is finally noticed.

“Isn't he so lovely, Lee?” You whisper, watching as Lee holds back his tears, “Aidan looks like you, too. Like his papa.”

Maybe it doesn't matter. In the middle of the summer afternoon, Lee closes the distance in between you. Human arms wrapped around you, a small sigh from his lips. You're both careful not to squeeze the baby in your arms. And it feels like home. You're both safe in this space, in your small home. It's familiar, it's all yours—

“I love you, [Y/N].” He mutters, moving away to look at you, “I...really love you. I want to spend the rest of this life with you.”

“You promised me that a long while, Lee.” You breathed in the familiar smell of him, “I love you, Lee.”

And Lee kisses you, the familiar taste of your lips enough to prove that you are real, that you exist.

...

“...you're thinking quite hard again, Lee.”

By the time he opens his eyes, Lee finds himself back at Babylonia's training room.

Back at your arms. “[Y/N]?”

Realizing the situation, you chuckle. “Ah, did you go back for a while? What did you see this time?”

Despite the free-looking face of yours in that reality, you still looked like the same Commandant Lee fell in love with a long time ago. With a harsh pull of the necktie of your uniform, you squealed as Lee catches you in a fierce kiss.

When you pull away, you notice the flushed tint in his cheeks. “Lee?”

“...You...are so pretty,” Lee breathes, “Can we go back to your room.”

A little confused, but Lee must have seen something nice in his dream.

would u believe me that this is a sneak peek to the planned story I have with lee 👀

also I have baby fever with lee as the daddy 😭🥺🧡

—starry

[danieldrivesfast]

The absolute idiocy of a lot of you is fucking incredible.

I walked away from engaging with F1 fans back when people started debating if the halo was necessary because it's more fun when guys have a higher chance of dying. Then I was coaxed back.

I can say, without hyperbole, that the "fandom" behavior is so much fucking worse. At least the people arguing about that knew what they were talking about as far as the actual sport, on-track competition, and the drivers being adults in a high-stress situation. They also had the sense to admit when they were wrong.

Now we have immature, illiterate children sending death threats and being absolutely fucking vile because they think these actual humans are characters from a TV show or fanfiction.

The influx of new fans isn't hurting the sport because they're young and primarily not-male, it's hurting the sport because it's normalizing some of the worst behavior I've ever seen from a group of fans. The lack of knowledge of the actual sport can be forgiven, but the widespread cruelty, wilful ignorance, and utter lack of empathy is next level in this demographic.

You hypocrites preach about mental health and kindness while spewing vitriol and directly being hateful to drivers and their friends and family where and how you know they'll see it, not to mention the fan-to-fan bullshit. It's disgusting, unacceptable behavior, and I know you don't care because you're incapable of experiencing a moment of empathy for another human.

I hope everything you people are putting into the world comes back on you tenfold.

[sarchasmmm]

I'm not a fanfic guy but I wanted to write a little smth exploring Sunday's ocd a bit. So I did.

Angst & intrusive thoughts ahead (although I didn't write anything graphic)

Standing before a mirror, Sunday adjusted his clothes, smoothing them out, making sure that everything was even on both sides. Gently, he repositioned pieces of his hair - he was very picky about it, to the point that he could spend hours in front of a mirror if he had the time. He had to get it just right. Once he was done, he started for the door, but before he could reach it, a small voice whispered in his ear - check again. Just to be sure. So he went back to the mirror, checked he hadn't missed anything - he hadn't. He never did. And so again, he went for the door, and again there was that nagging in his head telling him to check again, check again, what if you missed something? He knew he hadn't, he was certain - nothing could have changed in the few seconds since he had last looked in the mirror, and yet the incessant clamouring in his mind demanded that he check just one more time. Just. In. Case.

But it was never just one more time. Not really. It was ten times, or twenty, he just couldn't leave, couldn't escape, trapped by his reflection and the cacophony in his mind that screamed he was imperfect.

And what was the point of him, if he was imperfect? What was the point of defective, damaged goods?

None at all.

And so he had to look perfect. Always. Lest anyone notice the damaged parts beneath the surface.

This cycle happened every morning, without fail. He had to get ready early just so he would have time for it. He'd tried delaying his morning routine in the hopes that the fear of being late would outweigh the fear of looking imperfect - it didn't. All he got was surprised comments about how 'It's so rare for you of all people to be late, Mr Sunday.' It was the most stressful morning of his life. He tried covering the mirrors, getting rid of them entirely, but nothing worked. The thoughts were constantly clawing at his mind, digging their talons deep into his psyche, their voices shrieking like nails on a chalkboard. He never got far before he used his phone's camera as a mirror. Seeing himself looking prim and proper always soothed the thoughts, quieted them down - at least for a while.

It wasnt just mirrors, though. Sunday found his mind grew restless when other people were around. It was like there was someone clinging to him, a shadow he couldn't see whispering things into his ears, their touch cold and clammy against his skin, but when he looked, there was nothing there. It would put such barbaric, rancid thoughts in his head, things about what other people looked like, how they deserved to have awful things happen to them, how if people could hear what was going on inside his head, they'd realise what a disgusting excuse for a human being he really was.

They weren't really his thoughts. Were they? He hoped they weren't. And yet they spoke with his voice. If it wasn't really him then why did they sound exactly like him?

One of Sunday's biggest fears was having people hear his thoughts. It was ridiculous, of course, impossible even. And yet he just couldn't shake it.

You know your halo can be used for telepathy. What if you're broadcasting all of your rotten thoughts to everyone?

He wasn't, he wasn't, he knew he wasn't, and yet that knowledge never soothed him in the slightest. It didn't matter if it was impossible. There was always the fear. The 'what ifs.' The poison in his ears.

Before he knew it, Sunday had let a chasm grow between himself and his peers as he kept his distance from people, both physically and emotionally. Just in case.

Perhaps that was why, or at least part of why, Sunday wished so strongly to create his paradise. Absolution. Proving that those thoughts weren't really his. Would someone who truly believed such heinous things about others wish for them to be happy?

He thought not.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

Poor Barman Part 4  

~ Runs In The Family ~

~and the Ghost town~

Bartender picks syrups for cocktails.

Danny*appears behind him without sound*: Hello.again.

Barman: Boy, a couple more meetings and I'll think you're my stalker.

Danny: Nothing like that. My parents think that I rarely go out so they dragged me to the supermarket.

Maddie: Danny, where are you? Hello, sir.

~~~

Maddie: Yes, our boy is so shy. In his hometown he always runs away before being attacked by ghosts. Jack and I were so sure that in a new city with high crime Danny would be even more stressed. There are so many dangerous people here.

Barman’s gaze shifts to the innocently blinking boy standing behind. Danny draws a halo above his head by using strange green energy.

Bartender: Really, Mrs.? tell me more 

*remembers yesterday when this “quiet as the mouse grave” boy tried to get into Killer Croc's mouth to inspect his fangs and almost made him write a letter of resignation*

~ and a chip off the old block~

Next night

Bartender: In conclusion, your immensely loving overprotective parents are unaware that you not only got into in a bad company but also rule it.

Danny: Hey, what management are you talking about. At school they don't even trust me to be a DJ.

Boy brings marshmallows on a stick to one of the Red Hood's thugs who immediately pulls out a lighter

Danny: I just love making new friends :D

Danny: Besides, overprotective doesn’t sound very respectful. Don’t say that in front of them. My mom’s name made of "mad" and "die" parts for a reason. She could break Two-face's spine as a light workout. 

Barman: I believe in it.

~ and the last brain cell of the Fenton family ~

Danny *shows the Bartender a photo*: This is my sister Jazz. She wants to be a psychologist. She has the best grades in Amity Park!

The bartender*is happy that there is at least someone adequate in the boy's family*.

Danny: Tomorrow she will come here without me to discuss some publications with Dr. Quinzel. Don't give her any trouble.

Barman: I was wrong

Danny: What?

~~~

Danny: And so, guys, why are you were bad boys?

The holding cells at the Gotham Police Station. 

All criminals are sitting in the opposite corner from the 14-year-old boy.

Police officer: You're listed as an emergency contact for him.

Jazz: And what did he do this time?

Police officer: He placed Mr. Freeze in a strange non-melting ice. Persuade him to releave the villain and Commissioner Gordon will let your brother out. We cannot offer an interrogation. It's a waste of time.

Jazz: Mr.Barman,hello,what are you doing here?

Barman: One of our bouncers sent someone to the hospital so the Boss sent me to pay his bail for him.

Jazz: I see. More importantly, Danny, come here. now. You’re in big trouble, little brother.

Danny *walks through the wall and throws handcuffs on the officer’s desk*.

Barman: You know what, I’ll come back later. I just remembered I left the iron on in the bar. Have a good day.

Danny: See you soon.

Barman: I hope not.

[hazbinsillynight]

Wow it's been a while! (+New AU)

Hey guys! It's been a while since I posted here isn't it? My stress managment and health aren't the best right now so it has been complicated to do anything. ^^'

I'm taking some times to get better at the same time than working for my exams. I may be long to post any new chapter for the soulmate AU but I promise I'm not giving it up. It's just a lot is going on.

BUT! I've come to a new AU idea while rping with a friend and I wanted to share it with you all. So behold!

The Vox angel AU nobody expected here!

Vox is an angel and is recruited by Adam as an exorcist. Normally he only takes women but as Vox is interesting him, he decides to make an exception. In the end Vox gets along well with Vaggie and they are very close. He knows that he must not speak of extermination to the other angels.

One day Vaggie disappears and Vox is all alone. He tries to find out what happened but Adam refuses to say anything. Thinking that Vaggie is in hell, he builds a camera system and settle it there. It helps him look for her friend.

Except that one day he finds Alastor, injured after a fight against an Overlord. Vox opens a golden portal and decides to help Alastor. Alastor is suspicious and doesn't trust him at first but little by little they become friends. Vox may also have a little crush on him but shhh.

Everything is fine except that when Adam finds out, he is furious. Vox was his top angel! His right arm just like Lute. And now he fools around with a stupid demon! He corners Vox one day and strips him of his wings and halo. But unlike Vaggie and more like Lucifer, he forbids him access to heaven. Vox is no longer an angel.

When he falls into hell and wakes up he no longer resembles what he had known. He has a TV for head and no more wings. He is lost and tries to find Alastor in the hope that he can help him but Alastor does not recognize him.

[multifan2022]

Masterlist

*So this was orignally gonna be a one and done.. But its gotten to be longer than I thought and I have so many ideas for it.. so heres part 1.. Hope you all like it.. thank you to @callsign-dragonbaron for all your writing. You really inspired me to write this piece.*

Life in the Navy wasn't always easy, it was stressful and sometimes the days were extremely long. Some of the people made you want to spoon your eyes out. Having been in the military for almost 20 years though had its advantages, plus you out ranked most of the people your age. But you had worked so hard, for so long plowing the competition out of your way to your new rank of Captain. It felt almost impossible, between being married and having a beautiful little girl at home. Sometimes doing the hours you needed to do felt impossible. But when your husband came to you and told you about the promotion and he swore he had nothing to do with it, lets just say it led to an amazing night. 

With all your accomplishments you really weren't surprised when you were offered a permanent spot in Fightertown. But when you were told about the top secret uranium mission, you were shocked to hear that they needed you to fly it, not teach it. It really only took a few days to realize why your husband was being extra attentive towards you. Why when you decided to not go to the Hard Deck and opted to stay home and watch a movie with your daughter you swore you heard him sigh in relief. As you watched Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell, Aka you absent AF father, walk down the aisle you almost laughed when his steps faltered. 

It was clear by his face that your file had not been in his hand, he did not know you were here. Hell you wouldn't be surprised if he didnt even know you were in the Navy. It had been just over 20 years since you had spoken. Thanks to Iceman and some of the others from their day, you had never been stationed together, never flown together. It should've hurt that your stepfather was more involved in your life than your actual one but you were so used to it that it didn't even matter anymore. You almost laughed again when you saw there was another very unhappy face amongst the crowd. 

The chocolate brown eyes of your childhood love met yours and softened. Bradley knew that as hard as this was for him, it had to be ten times harder for you. While you guys hadn't really stayed in contact, you hadn't really fallen apart either. You were (unknowingly) still his emergency contact, the one and only person who would be handed a flag if something happened to him. Your father had chosen to protect him over you, chased him and his career around and didn't even know where you lived. It had been the thing that pushed you away from him. In his eyes what cost him his chance with you, his chance to start a family, his chance at love. That was only confirmed when you raised your hand to tuck a stray hair behind your ear and a large ring caught his attention. 

He thought it was weird when he got to base and was informed by Warlock that if he was married, he would be allowed to wear his wedding band. He thought maybe it was something new the Navy was trying out, but now he saw it for what it was. If he had to guess, you were married to someone high ranking, someone who wanted it known that you were taken. It was smart, because seeing the size of the ring and knowing that orders were slightly changed at the last minute would allow just about anyone to put two and two together. 

Except maybe Hangman.. 

You watched as his eyes flicked to your hand, which you then pulled down and tucked into your other. A large 3.29 carat pear cut diamond was surrounded by 76 small round cut diamonds that covered the halo and shank of your engagement ring. A smaller eternity style wedding band sat just below it, with 14 round cut diamonds totalling 1.67 carats. It was hefty and you were not the least bit surprised when your husband told you he changed things around so you could wear it. He had spent months picking it out, begging your friends to ask weird little questions here and there like. 

What kind of diamond cut do you like?

What style?

What type of metal?

Covered shank or plain metal?

Big or small?

He was a meticulous man, your husband, and while your ring was a little bigger than what you had originally thought you loved it. Sure it had cost him over a month's worth of his Vice Admiral pay, but what did he care? Beau would buy you and your daughter the world if he could. Making sure you could wear your wedding ring, the only symbol of his love and dedication that you could carry, was a top priority to him. Even more so when you had decided to hyphenate your name so you could still go by Mitchell on assignments like this. 

Your eyes met Beaus as your father took the podium, talking about this and that but you weren't really listening. You only tuned back in and looked at him long enough to hear “Today, we will start with what you think you know. It's time to show me what you're made of.” Unshockingly to you, he looked directly at Bradley, or Rooster, whatever. You can tell that he is basically challenging him with one look and you roll your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek as you look away. You know that no matter what you do in the sky it won't matter, you'll never be good enough in his eyes. 

Cyclone can see the pain you're trying desperately to hide, he knows better than anyone how much you don't want to care about the other Captain. He knows probably better than you how much you do, that you're in denial over your love for Maverick. He tried everything he could to get one of you off this mission. Begged Ice to not throw the two of you together for one of the most dangerous mission you would ever have to fly. Begged him to think about the repercussions of this man teaching both you and Rooster. But at the end of the day he was outmanned and outranked. 

He nods at you and winks as you walk by heading to the tarmac, brushing yourself against him just enough for him to feel it but not enough for anyone other than Warlock to see. The other man just rolls his eyes playfully and chuckles under his breath. Being the only other person here who knows about the union between you and Beau you don't have to be as careful around him. He would take your secrets to the grave if he needed to, he was like a brother to both you and Cyclone. He watched as Beaus' eyes followed you towards the door, and could see the tension in his shoulders and neck. 

Pete could see it too, as he turned and watched his daughter leave. It shocked and concerned him to find the Vice Admirals eyes on his daughter. Maybe she was just as much trouble as he was, maybe Cyclone didn't like her. Maybe she had, even without him, followed in his exact footsteps. He eyed over his superior officer as he jogged past calling his daughter's name. Surprised when she stopped and turned to him, arms crossed, that same ring catching his eye as it did Bradleys. His eyebrows pulled together as he spoke “You're married?” 

Scoffing you looked to the side, watching as Bradley approached and Hangman watched on. “20 years and that's the first thing you say to me? Should I pretend to be shocked? OR should I pretend that in 30 seconds when Bradshaw walks by that you're not going to be more interested in following him?” Both of you stood in tense silence as Bradley walked by, making eye contact with you before he pushed his aviators up and kept walking. You could immediately tell by the way Mavs eyes followed him what he wanted. Scoffing again you turn and shake your head making your way towards your jet to start preflight checks as your father once again.. Chases after Bradley. 

~~~

“Good morning Aviators, this is your Captain speaking. Welcome to basic fighter maneuvers, as briefed today's exercise is dogfighting. Guns only, no missiles, we do not go below the hard deck of 5,000 feet. Working as a team, you will try to shoot the other Captain Mitchell down or else.” Maverick looked up from his cockpit watching as you flew just low enough to not register on Fanboy and Payback or Roosters radar. Deep down he's proud. 

“Or else what Sir.” Payback laughs, causing you to grin and shake your head. You've known Payback and Fanboy for a while, they're cocky but in a fun way. Mav chuckles watching as you drop just a little lower “Or else she shoots back. If she shoots either one of you down, you both lose.” Back at Base Hangman is playing with a toy plane as he says “The Mitchells need an ego check.” Bob turns and looks at Phoenix before looking at Jake, “Do you know who Y/n is?” Jake shrugs saying something about how he doesnt care who she is before Bob speaks again. “Y/ns call sign in Valkyrie. Do any of you know what the Valkyrie do?” He turns and looks around at all the other aviators making jokes at your expense. Cyclone and Warlock are there too, silently thankful someone else is sticking up for you when they can't. 

When nobody speaks Bob laughs “They deliver dead warriors to Valhalla, the Norse version of paradise. Her callsign is a play on that.. She delivers men to heaven.. Or hell I guess you could say.. She's the only Aviator of our time to have 5 confirmed kills.. She is the best of the best. We are lucky to have her here, so shut and learn.” A newfound respect for the backseater grew within some of those present as they turned back to the radio, or screens. 

As those in the sky decide on the 200 push up rule, you're securing your oxygen mask and looking up waiting for the signal. “Fights on, let's turn and burn.” Pushing things into gear your body slams back as your jet picks up altitude and speed, turning at the last second to fly between the two jets. The only thing anyone can hear over the radio is you laughing and the three men squealing about how you scared them. “God I hope this isn't the best of the best boys.. Gonna need to get Nix and Bobert out here… Maybe give me some real competition. But I'll slow down.. Try not to get fired on the first day.” 

Beau shakes his head and wipes a hand over his face in exasperation. He loves you more than anything in the world, but in the air, as Valkyrie and not Y/n he could choke you. And not in the fun way you like, in the way that he wants to choke Maverick. There's a reason you're the best of the best, and it's your “Spicy” flying skills as you like to call them. But it still gives him anxiety and annoys the absolute hell out of him. 

“Tally! Tally! Tally! Valkyries coming in break left!” Fanboy yells at his watches, you're jet speed at them. Just like that the fights are on, you spend the next few hours doing what you do best. Men and women are on the ground doing push up after push up while you continue to knock them out of the sky. Mavericks proud, Cyclones proud and also kinda turned on. But you just feel like you can breathe, even with your fathers voice pitching in every once in a while. Up here you're in your element. At least you were until Hangman starts talking shit about Bob. “Ah no I got it.. Baby on board.” You can hear him laugh, and even though you have to admit the man has a beautiful smile, you still want to punch him. Instead you opt for scaring the shit out of him and speeding between their jets. “Greetings Aviators fights on.. Oh and Hangman.. This is for making fun of Bobert.” 

Later after many.. Many flights.. Its you against Hangman and Rooster.. They do alright, but never good enough, finally Mav calls it quits and the two pull up beside you. The suns already setting when you hear Hangman's voice again. “So Val, mind if I ask you a personal question?” You can see Rooster shaking his head but you answer anyways “Would it matter if I did?” He chuckles then hits you right in the center of your chest. “What's up with you and Maverick? You fly, he flies.. Shouldn't you be like.. Super tight? Does he care more about Bradshaw than you? You got a daddy issue I should know about?” 

You sigh and can envision your husband's fists clenching at the comment. Knowing that you do.. In fact, do have some daddy issues. Him being 20 years your senior proves that. But you just laugh the comment off and watch the setting sun, “You should probably be more worried about where's he at, don't worry about me. I'm good.. Very good.” As you raise one hand to flip him off he speaks again, “Bet if it was him you were fighting up here, you wouldn't be so good..” Rooster watched as you turned back and looked straight ahead causing Hangman to laugh before you spoke. “What happens or has happened between myself and Captain Mitchell is none of your concern Lieutenant. But for the sake of comradery, I'll tell you I'm pretty confident I could outdo him too..”  

Just then Mavericks plane slides out from under all of you, you had a feeling he was there since he was being so quiet, you just genuinely didn't care. When he inverts over your plane the two of you stay locked in a staring contest as the other two just watch on. When he speaks, you feel your heart rate speed up, your blood boil as memories of all the times he walked away flash through your mind. All the times he was there for Bradley and not you, all the unanswered phone calls or emails. The turbulence threw meeting Beau, he wasn't at your wedding nor does he even know you have a child. 

“Come on, let's get this over with.” That's all it takes from his mouth to have you almost foaming at the mouth. 38 years of anger and abandonment pain flooding to the surface and coming out in the sky. Back at base, Warlock turns and looks at Cyclone whose face is flushing as he intently watches the screens in front of him. He can see his wife's face as it becomes a dark red color, can see the fire he loves so much blaze in her eyes as he prays she won't take the bait. But, being who you are, you do. “Fights on!” Jerking your plane the opposite way of Mavericks you both start to spiral downwards, barely hearing Hangman's comment about your and your fathers drama being on a Skywalker level. 

Keeping your eyes locked on your father you can feel yourself getting more and more pissed every time he opens his mouth. “All right you put us here, how are you gonna get yourself out?” You laugh harshly and breathlessly as the g`s hold you back in your seat. “I did put us here, Sir. This is just one Mitchell ego fighting the other to see who's best. Feel free to bail out anytime.” You can feel the physical strain this is taking on you, and you can hear it in Pete's voice when he speaks. “How low you wanna go, Sweetheart?” 

Shaking your head, trying to clear away the memories of him calling you that as a child you reply with so much venom in your voice that those hearing it on base wince. “I can go as low as you can, Dad. And that's saying something!” The planes speed around each other, faster and faster towards the ground with no sign of pulling up from either of you. Mav tries not to think about the last time he heard you call him that. It was a voicemail, the one saying that you missed him, begging him to just answer the phone or text you. Anything, just something to let you know that he actually cared. He pushes aside the guilt, and anger he has towards himself to try and make his point. “The past is the past, for both of us!” 

Cyclone can see tears slipping down your face as he watches the screen. All he wants to do is wipe them away, kiss your forehead and hold you until you feel better. He wants to take you home to your daughter who will make you laugh and remind you that you're not just Mavericks abandoned daughter anymore. His hand unconsciously reaches for a mic as your voice rings. “You'd like to believe that wouldn't you! Absolve yourself of all the guilt that is probably eating away at you! I won't tell you that it's ok you left! I won't pretend like you didnt destroy me Maverick! This is all on you!” 

“Hard decks 5,000 ft guys your runnin outta room!” Hangman's words get ignored as you and your father just keep spinning. Hangmans shocked, Rooster is internally panicking as you ignore them. “Your strategy is about to run us into the ground, what's your move?” You can hear the panic in Mavericks' voice too, it's exactly what you wanted. What you needed, to feel superior over him in the very thing he left you for. “I can go as low as you Sir.” You say calmly, never even looking at your gages, you can hear everything beeping and telling you to pull up. When your eyes do flick down you see you're under 1,000 feet and dropping fast. 

Maverick finally bails out and pulls up just over 700 feet above the ground. Leaving you too pull up at just under 700, “Come on Valkyrie you got this, don't think just do.” In the wings Hangman and Rooster are cheering you on as you get a tone on your father. “You're out Maverick.. Shocker that you were the first one to bail huh? That feels pretty familiar.” Your words hit their intended target as Mavs head snaps to look at you but you're staring straight ahead. Pulling away faster than the rest to get to base, then go home.

~

~

PART 2

~

@callsign-dragonbaron​ 

[wallieclock]

Third times the charm

-

Look guys! Can you BELIEVE Juanaflippa came back and they're all finally happy ? (ver. without frame+background in read more)(also me talking about my designs abit because i am 💥💥💥💥autistic)

-You may be wondering why Mariana isn't in his one-punch cosplay? It is because I drew it and hated it. I'll draw him in it one day

-The missing gloves are because i forgot

-You may also be wondering why I gave Flippa a halo but no horns. It is because her face already felt cluttered to me, But still wanted an indication that this was post-second death

-They all have little jewelry that clicks together because they are familia (Mariana's necklace is the biggest piece, than Charlies bracelet than Flippas)

-Charlie gets square eyes because he is. Slime

-^^^ I see charlie as like a full slime that can change shape REALLY well. When he gets stressed/isn't around people for a while he gets.... smudgy(During his murder arc he looked human and had human colors but they were all smudged like if you took a wet canvas and poured water on it) (during exile he was pretty much all green and didn't keep shape very well)

-Mariana's heart pin says '#1 bitch wife' the other one is just sunglasses emoji. I genuinely dont know why.

-Charlie's glasses and communicator are broken because he is :D

-Mariana's scars are from setting himself on fire

-Not many notes on Flippa. She's perfect (a bit horribly traumatized but whatevs)

-First time drawing them both so I would change some things (make charlie more slimy, give mariana a scarf or smthing to replicate his cape)

These guys have. A hold on me.

[powerbottomblake]

ok I finished my rewatch here is the S1 recap brought to you by my brain juices having been put in a blender after that. I will tell you guys, rewatching S1 after watching S2 is so incredibly rewarding this show is just. really good!! it is!! now here are my various disorganized thoughts:

shannon's death scene is so much more hard-hitting on a rewatch. the way when she's being carried she asks for mary then reaches for her is so incredibly intimate she's surrounded by her sisters but she wants mary at her side and the ensuing goodbyes are very much heart-wrenching and there is NO way to read shannon/mary as not romantic especially since we later get hints from everyone that it was pretty much an open secret? everyone knew their relationship was special. props to the cast for delivering such an emotional scene that comes this early in the show (the tear falling from beatrice's face to land on shannon's as she kisses her forehead and says "I'll miss you, sister" is just. Cinéma. Filmé)

the way it is stressed time and again that resurrection is something the halo provides specifically for ava. there's also the way there's a direct parallel with areala bc they're both the only warrior nuns to have received the halo AGAINST their wills and I think you could say resurrection happened for areala too which is very interesting and very neat (the way these two bookend the cycle of warrior nun being fed into the church killing machine)

the way it is basically textual that vincent was the drunk driver that caused ava's accident and that is INSANE. they're both at the center of how the trajectory of their lives was fundamentally rewritten and they're both the cause that sets them on their path. vincent becomes her father figure and develops genuine affection for her and he fills a place in her life that has always been empty before and this really sets the scene for their S2 interactions.

on the topic of vincent there are so many scenes where he stands around in apparent deep meditation and comes afterwards with answers or a set course and those are literally the moments he gets his visions/messages from adriel and it happens right under our noses and we're none the wiser!! you only catch it on rewatch

ava's bisexuality is hinted at so early like literally the first person to hit on her and offer her a drink is a girl!! and then when she escapes the cat's cradle she says "I'm gonna make love to" pointed look at a girl "someone" like it was there right at the beginning

JC is the best person to have a first lay with! I am a person who subscribes to ship having to be each other's true loves not necessarily their first loves and JC was safe and harmless enough for ava to explore things that were denied her in her past life (sexuality, desire, infatuation) bc in the grand scheme of things JC does not matter. and ava subconsciously KNOWS this. ava is never 100% vulnerable or open with JC and not just bc of, you know, the supernatural things happening around and to her constantly but even the most basic information abt herself she withholds for a LONG time. JC is very interesting thematically bc he's what ava thinks freedom looks like and what she thinks she wants but absolutely not what she needs (which is basically what she explores all throughout S1). He's an uprooted vagrant person not beholden to anyone but his own whims but that means he never develops any significant bonds there's no purpose and no real belonging with him. Hell, he leaves his partners of 18 months for ava who he met a week ago. His entire character is based on leaving whereas ava wants, deep down, someone who will stay for and with her. all throughout.

the vincent monologue at the end of episode 1 hits different on a rewatch "prophets are hard to come by in these times" and he went and fashioned himself into one!! this whole things has been him trying to find a type of salvation that the church does not offer him!! especially since he's haunted by who he was in the past and when he joined the OCS he thought maybe this darkness is a demon that can be exorcised and confronted that it was in fact all him he wanted a miracle powerful enough to banish that very darkness. adriel probably sensed that vulnerability in him and came to him in visions using that to get him onboard

mary's whole s1 arc is basically that tough action guy whose wife gets killed and he goes on a rampage to find out who did it and why. she's a female john wick. which. again. I am puzzled by the fact that shannon and mary was apparently not written to read as romantic?? my dearest people you WROTE it that way. you tapped into the romance tropes.

lilith is somehow both an eldest daughter (derogatory) and a middle child (derogatory). and also a bitch and a delight and I love her so much

JC. repeatedly. and I say. REPEATEDLY. offers ava moments of vulnerability where he opens up abt himself and his life and ava offers NOTHING in return. ava is extremely guarded even as she wants him and only offers up her story when she has to and even then it's mostly to distract him from asking questions abt who the people after her are. and that's juxtaposed with how ava, after that very painful moment with mother superion and being offered comfort from beatrice, legitimately opens up to beatrice almost instantly there. Beatrice hugs her once and ava is like I spent 12 years not feeling anything below my chest I didn't kill myself I have a very complicated relationship with nuns and thus catholicism bc I wasn't treated well like the contrast there is mindblowing.

bringing me to my next point: ava instinctively: 1/knows beatrice is safe, 2/knows she is safe with beatrice, 3/ wants to trust beatrice SO BAD. and she wants intensely, for beatrice to believe her and (then in the back end of season once they're paired up) to believe in her

ava fleeing the OCS is done so well bc in 24hrs she gets put through mother superion's psychological warfare, then she hears abt the previous halobearer who I'm sure she was picturing as someone of a certain age then sees the picture and realizes shannon died young, then she goes visiting the murals of the cat's cradle and all the warrior nuns are pictured young and fighting demons, constantly, AND THEN she reads that part abt how areala died her second death YOUNG too. she gets hit with the reality of this fate, the danger of it, the certainty of a death that'll come sooner rather than later as she's appointed humanity's champion while having to fight horrors beyond a normal human's comprehension constantly. ofc my girl bailed. it's all done so very well everything that has to do with ava's arc is insanely well written

jillian calls beatrice "a petite member of the clergy" when she sees the footage of beatrice taking out an entire security team and that is SO FUCKING FUNNY. imagine calling beatrice petite to her face

on that topic beatrice's hallway fight gets projected to a room full of journalists and I am obsessed with that. did she go viral on the internet were there memes abt ninja nuns going feral

all throughout when something happens that pushes against the Norms and Rules beatrice will question it and it can come off as cold but really it's bc Beatrice strives on structure!! if she has to step outside the bounds of it, it better be righteous and worth it. like when she asks if vincent is intent on not giving the halo to lilith and keeping it within ava and he says yes her first reflex is but lilith is next in line. but the politics. this isn't to say beatrice was FOR killing ava like the moment she hears it could kill her she's NOT down to take it away from her but everytime the Order of Things is challenged Beatrice has to be walked through as to why. and if it's WORTH it. which oh boy the way this ties to her S2 arc makes me slightly insane bc ava comes barreling through that structure and beatrice says yes. she is worth upending my whole world for anyway-

Which is NOT to say that beatrice will take well to any kind of authority you actually have to earn her respect otherwise beatrice has. absolutely. zero chill. the tone she takes with duretti who's the fucking CARDINAL. from VATICAN. a pope HOPEFUL?? she is polite yes but curt and cold and very much flirting with impertinence like duretti tries to seduce her into his clique the way he did lilith and it fails astronomically and she basically tells him to go fuck himself?? to A CARDINAL?? DIRECT OVERSIGHT OVER THE OCS?? FROM THE VATICAN??? "you may always count on me to remain faithful. to God." and did you call him a power hungry whore too did you give him the finger beatrice???????

anyway I miss this show so fucking much

[marielaure]

Fic Idea: Sun Summoner Jesper AU

The above photo is a rough digital drawing of Jesper Fahey in a blue shirt, dark brown pants, and long brown overcoat. He shoots a giant beam of light from his top hat. There’s also a random orangish circle around his head meant to be a sun/halo design.

The ideas, huge stress on the idea part for right now:

🎩 21st century-ish setting with powers (whether our world, the Grishaverse, or mystical made-up one — unsure)

🎩 Jesper is like Batman: super smooth CEO or lawyer or whatever by day, vigilante by night

🎩 Jesper and Inej are partners (either legal or business), and Inej “knows” about Jesper’s night time adventures (though it’s more of a gut feeling for awhile). But, later on when Jesper is in trouble she whips out some awesome fighting skills she’s never talked about and saves him.

🎩 Other random characters fill in various villain roles or the morally grey contacts to help out once in awhile.

🎩 I’m oddly thinking about making Wylan a villain…just to try it. If anyone has any villain!crows fics put them in the comments please 😊

Honestly, I love when fics take a cartoon concept and put it with the Crows 🐦‍⬛

Fanfiction fits so well with the episodic nature and it’s so fun to read and write!

What other fic ideas do you guys have with the crows? Or other Grishaverse characters you like? I have a huge Scooby-Doo idea, but that’s for another post.

But yeah, Sun Summoner!Jesper with a mirror in the top of his top hat. Then, he bazooka launches massive beams of light. It would look so cool, though how useful in a fight—no idea.

[hystericstar]

Just found your blog and *chef’s kiss*

Would you be up for writing a first time with the Fierce Deity? Maybe he’s scared of hurting the reader? And reader just like, nah, c’mere?

I’m deeply sorry for how long this took, but it was so fun to write LMAO

CW: diety being real soft for u, size kink!!!! ! MDNI !

ᖫ☆★☆★ᖭ

The room was quiet. Their breaths even quieter. He swore he would do anything for you, so why was he hesitating? You asked so sweetly and looked so pretty but the truth is you’re just so small.

When you stood next to him, the top of your head barely hit his elbow. So what made you think you could take all of him without hurting yourself?

well, you were terribly horny and sick of just his fingers. Sure, they felt good, but you know what would feel better? His dick.

“Are you sure?” His smooth voice coated in silk and honey rumbled into your palm and reverberated through your very existence. It was cute really, he had always had this habit of pressing your palm to his lips when he was stressed. This time though, you saw it as almost comical.

Propped up against the cushioned headboard, he hovered over you. His eyes glowed slightly, reminding you your lover was a God. He was a God of death and destruction, yet he would give his life if he was responsible for even your slightest bit of discomfort.

His very senses quickly became fine-tuned to your every heartbeat and twitch from the moment he met you. Wordlessly, you ran your hands through his halo white hair.

"Please?" You cupped his cheeks and he shuddered at your utter sweetness. "... As you wish."

With a roll of his hips, he let his tip bump into your clit before sneaking a hand down to ease it into your achy hole. The sweat that culminated between you made the sliding easier, for which you both were undoubtedly grateful for. He braced himself against the headboard, surely leaving scratches to be dealt with at later date.

His movements were simultaneously too slow and too overwhelming. He bared his fanged teeth at the pressure your cunt applied to his aching dick.

"Faster." It flew from your mouth like a command. Your hips lifted off the bed, hoping to feel him deeper, to chase the newfound craving to be stuffed over and over till you reached the same peak of divinity he was forged out of.

He rolled into you with more want, the restraints he placed on himself loosening ever so slighly but it still wasn't enough.

You we're insatiable. You had a taste and refused to let a single drop roll down your chin. You pushed him with more force than you had intended, but still got the desired effect. His breathing hitched uncharacteristically, the sudden force momentarily stunting him. With enough determination and clouded thinking, you successfully knocked a God onto his back!

Curiosity crashed into him. His heavenly gaze fixated on your trembling form blindly trying to guide him back into you. A winded hiss slithered out of him, the size difference so much more prominent now. He formed a bulge in your belly with every desperate bounce.

"You we're holding back, I had...i had to...take-to take matters into my own hands." How cute. Every other word was more whiny and incoherent than the last. Your eyes narrowed in on him, glossy eyes and fluttering lashes fading in and out of focus.

In that moment, the diety couldn't help but wonder if you'd appreciate the use of some magic...

ᖫ⪻ ▬▬ι═══════⪼ᖭ

Guys I love him

I always lowkey think about what type of magic the diety would have, if any. Like, maybe he can use a binding spell originally intended for use on ancient monsters? Let's be real though, you're just as feral as a dragon in heat when he gets you horny so what's the difference?

Anyways, I'm so happy to be back!!!

Xoxo <33