#we can add lighting and sera as well

[ladimmtryingtocomeback]

Oh sorry it's the same pictures

[unordinaries]

presented without comment

(chapters 280 + 344)

[dw-writes]

Angelic Rip Off - Hazbin Hotel

AN: Okay, so, this is just like....a testing concept I guess? something that came to mind after talking over theories and such with @lpwrites about what's going on, and i thought this would be a fun reader to explore! i dunno if it's gonna be a series, but at least its something fun to maybe add to. this part here i guess serves as the...set up?? if you're curious about anything that happens in it, lemme know and I'll expand - i just threw this together at midnight so...yeah :D lemme know what you think Contains my own headcanons Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Spoilers

A million thoughts went through your head when you spotted Lilith being escorted into Heaven.

The first was of Lucifer. Most of them were of Lucifer, if you were being honest with yourself. How he wasn’t with her, which meant he was alone, which meant something went really fucking wrong if she was in Heaven on her own. Though not alone, which as your next though as you trailed after her and the angels that escorted her – fucking Adam was there, chattering away about something you couldn’t hear from the distance.

That made it double bad.

You were so caught up in your thoughts about what Lilith being in Heaven meant that you didn’t realize you were being too loud. Lute whipped around, glaring as she barred your way from continuing forward.

You stopped short. “Move,” you demanded.

“No.”

“I think you forget your place, which isn’t in front of me, so fucking move.”

“How about you eat shit and stop fucking following us.”

“Excuse me?”

Adam appeared behind her like a cursed shadow, the grin of his mask far more disturbing than it should’ve been. “Is there a problem here?” he asked, gripping Lute’s shoulders to move her. He shifted as he did, giving you a glimpse of Lilith entering an elevator far down the road, with Sera at her shoulder.

The angel’s eyes widened as her gaze locked with yours before the doors slid shut.

Lute stepped to one side of you. Adam, the other.

The silence that pressed in from the street finally told you how you saw something you shouldn’t have been able to see. You exhaled slowly, closing your eyes.

The days following were a blur – it didn’t matter that you’d spun the cosmos into existence, that you’d had an impeccable record for thousands of years, or that you didn’t actually fucking do anything – you were dragged in front of the angelic council with claims of rebellion. Adam and Lute provided testimony that you’d been conspiring to overthrow the seraphim and install yourself in their place, that your age and knowledge of the universe gave you more right to head it than anyone else.

Sera looked you dead in the eye as she found you guilty and dropped you from Heaven.

You landed in the immaculate front yard of one of the Goetia. It took months for him to help you heal correctly – your wings were a disaster for longer than that, all six of them shattered from the fall – but Stolas was happy to assist you, especially when your hand in creating something he loved about the world came to light.

He was less than thrilled when you told him that you needed an audience with Lucifer once you were fully healed almost a year after you crashed.

“Um, no,” he said, turning away from you, releasing the wing he’d been helping you to stretch.

You fluttered the appendage as it settled against your back with the other five, frowning at his statement. “Why not?” you asked. You stood. “You’re a prince of Hell. You’re more than qualified to ask for an audience – it’s practically standard right? You have meetings all the time.”

“Well, yes, of course we do, it’s required to ensure Hell runs smoothly,” he said as he turned back to you. You arched an eyebrow. “As smoothly as it can,” he corrected.

“So, what’s the problem?” you demanded, “I need to speak to him, and I have no foothold here, I have no power. You can sponsor me!”

“I can,” he agreed. He rubbed his claws together, glancing over his shoulder as he quickly waved them at you – keep your voice down.

You crossed your arms, folding into yourself as you perched on the edge of the bed. You were a secret to his wife – one he shared with his very curious daughter. He’d been terrified the day Octavia had stumbled upon you stashed away in one of the many rooms of the mansion, but you’d charmed her with your stories of the stars and galaxies that existed beyond Hell, and his worry had faded. “Why won’t you?” you whispered.

“When’s the last time an angel fell from Heaven, hm?” he asked as he gently sat next to you.

You pressed your wings tighter to your back. “That’s the whole point – that’s why I need to speak with him,” you murmured. You look up at your friend, whose wide red eyes stare at you with obvious concern. “Please, Stolas. I wouldn’t be asking for such a large favor if it wasn’t important.”

He rubbed his claws together again. “If you leave, you won’t be able to come back here,” he sighed. He leaned against his knees with a guilty slump to his shoulders. “It’s far too dangerous to sneak you in a second time,” he explained.

“I know,” you replied, “I wouldn’t want you to trouble yourself again for me. You’ve done far too much as it is.”

He smiled. “You’re my friend, my dear. I’d move stars for you, if I could.”

“I’d move them for you again,” you replied with a smile.

“You’ll visit, though?” he asked after a long moment of silence, “If all goes well.”

“Well, I can’t really leave Hell, Stolas,” you said, “And you’re my friend. Of course I’ll visit you.”

His feathers fluffed, and he smiled.

He didn’t hesitate in making the meeting after that. He made sure that it sounded urgent, said, “It cannot wait, sir, the sooner that we can meet, the better.”

You vaguely heard the reply of, “I have time this afternoon.”

Stolas escorted you, making sure that you would be alright once you were done, ensured that you knew multiple places that you could stay if Lucifer didn’t open his doors to you.

He hugged you before you entered the gates of Lucifer’s palace. You returned it fiercely, and promised to call him before the day was done. He passed you off to an imp waiting nearby, insisting that you were attending the meeting in his place, and disappeared.

You were led inside without a word.

The imp scurried off once you were led into the parlor, leaving you to look around the room unsupervised. There were large portraits with a very familiar Lucifer and equally familiar Lilith, and a young woman you didn’t recognize. There were plenty of apple motifs around the room, balancing out the wallpaper covered in patterns of long trees. It was a lovely parlor, and you wondered how much of it was Lucifer’s decorating or Lilith’s.

Though, if she had left him in Hell, you weren’t sure you cared too much about her decorating choices.

“Prince Stolas,” came a bored but familiar drawl, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You turned to the door that the imp had disappeared through. He hadn’t changed. He looked a bit taller than when you’d last seen him, though he had been dragged through the very empty streets of heaven at that time. He was dressed sharper, but didn’t wear a smile until he finally looked up from the floor to meet your gaze.

Then he froze.

Lucifer didn’t know what to say when he saw you in his palace. There was supposed to be a gangly owl Goetia standing in his parlor, not an angel, and especially not one he’d been ashamed to say he missed over the last ten thousand years. He hadn’t seen you since the day before his fall. You’d both watched the stars you had worked so hard to make move across the sky as you talked about what you both hoped the world would be, and he told you about Lilith, and Eve, and the Garden, and joked about Adam.

“I know,” he remembered you saying, “You told me when it happened, Luci.”

“Well, you can’t blame a guy for being excited!” he’d replied. He’d sighed, leaned into your shoulder, and wistfully told you how beautiful she was. And you had told him how happy you were for him.

No, he thought as he sluggishly moved forward, eyes scanning over your face. No, the last time he’d see you was when you’d been running after him while the angels had dragged him before the council.

He whispered your name as he got closer, glancing at the door behind you, then laughed nervously. “Is this a joke?” He moved around you, staying close to the wall of the parlor as he inched towards the door. “Lil?” he laughed again, “You playin’ a prank? You come home and bring me an old friend?”

“Luci,” you whispered.

“No, no, no,” he said, shaking the apple atop his cane at you. “You’re not supposed to be here!” he trills, turning back to you, “You’re supposed to be in Heaven! You’re supposed to be there—”

“Where Lilith is?” you cut in.

He audibly swallowed.

You moved towards him, stopping short when he backed up against the wall. “They kicked me out, Luci,” you said with a sigh, “About a year ago, I saw Lilith up there, and I questioned it, and they put me in front of the council and kicked me out.”

Lucifer all but lunged towards you, dropping his cane as he gripped your arms. “You saw her? Is she alright? Did they hurt her?”

You squeezed his arms with a frown. “No, she was fine. Sera was escorting her somewhere, what?” your frown deepened, “Why was she there in the first place, Luci? What happened?”

His grip on your arms tightened for a moment. Turning, he guided you towards a couch set near the fireplace in the parlor. He moved for you to sit, then fell into the spot next to you.

“Heaven asked for a meeting,” he sighed, pulling his hat from his head, “Said that they were worried that, with our growing number of Sinners, we would start a rebellion.”

“What?” you asked. You shook your head. “That’s never come up. Who…”

“Sera,” he said, slumping, “And Adam, of course, can’t keep his nose out of people’s business.” He fiddled with the snake on the edge of his hat. It slithered, it’s head resting on his hand. “They wanted to come down and do a mass extermination. Wipe out,” he paused, his breath hitching in his throat, “Wipe out everyone. From the imps to the sins.”

“That would change the face of Earth,” you said, shaking your head, stuttering over your worlds, “That would change everything.”

“We know,” he whispered. He scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “We made a deal. All of the hellborn would be safe from the extermination,” he said. He smiled, weakly, looking up at you, “We have a child, you know. A girl. Her name’s Charlie, and she’s amazing.”

You blinked slowly. Your heart twisted in your throat at the news, realizing why the girl in the portraits looked so familiar, but you smiled and whispered, “You’ll tell me all about her, I’m sure,” followed by, “She went in exchange.”

“Lilith did, yeah,” he replied, “Said that we couldn’t just include Charlie in the deal, we had to include everyone. She’s attached to them all, like they’re her own children, too.”

You sat back, sliding your hands over your face as you sighed, “Because she’s the mother of all demons.”

“Exactly,” he groaned. He flopped back next to you, allowing the snake to crawl over his fingers. “So, she’s there. Collateral or…a hostage, I dunno. She offered herself up. Not that there was a choice, there was no fucking way they were letting me back in under any circumstances.” He slumped. “I’m glad you’re here, though,” he said with a small smile, “I’ve missed you, starlight.”

You leaned against his shoulder. “I’ve missed you, too, sunshine,” you whispered. You held your hand out for the golden snake to investigate. “I’m here now, you know. I’ll help you however I can.”

“Thank you,” he replied. You both watch the snake wrap around your wrists in lazy circles. “I’ve made, like, a shit ton of rubber ducks ever since Lilith left. You wanna see them?” he suddenly said, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Is this because you can’t see the ducks on Earth?” you asked with a slow smile.

“Obviously. I worked so hard on them, I’m fucking furious that I can’t see them," he scoffed, shifting, a large pout on his face, "And there’s no ducks here, I can’t get them to thrive, it’s annoying.”

You snorted. Gently pulling your hand free from the snake, you patted Lucifer’s knee and stood. “Show me your ducks,” you stated, “And tell me all about Charlie.”

[shadebloopnik]

Finally for the first time tryin to draw this man

Just a lil doodle while in class.

Also had the sudden inspo bc of a lil thingy(AU? Would it still be considered AU if i dont plan to expand?). Ik Angel!Alastor AUs are a thing, at least i think so, so i decided to try it out a lil bit.

So tadaaa, Angelic Alastor. I cannot draw wings to save my life, so bear with me. I based the eye shapes and over all facial expressions on how i drew the first Alastor doodle, except its a teeny bit less sharp with less bolder lines. I shaped his hair somewhat the same for the top part, except a bit slicked back with a more windswept look. I imagine his hair would be white with red tips, with an overall white, and red color scheme, with a black collar standing out. He'd have the same red eyess, tho with whites surrounding it.

I gave him two wings, to maybe signify that he is above most angels, though below those such as the Seraphims and Archangels, at least in rank. I was a bit conflicted what to make his cane like(yea ofc im giving him a cane im not a monster). Originally i wanted to copy what his lil antlers looked like, as to be a simple staff, but ended up with that wider antler design. Idk.

Angelic Alastor wouldn't really be much different than Demon Alastor, except for the fact that he's better at hiding it all, at least he wants to. He's quite powerful amongst other angels, moreso than seraphims despite being of lower rank. Similarly to how he can melt in the shadows, as an angel, he can dissolve into the light. Haven't really cemented what exact type of angel he is, though i'd imagine he's still a bit of a recluse, preferring to go off alone to do as he wishes.

Angelic Alastor is every bit as mischievous as his demonic counterpart. He lives for the entertainment, and his humor's quite biting for a being of light. He's sharp and charming and witty, and quite rebellious as well. He's curious about different possibilities, and has never quite felt like he belonged among his "perfect" angelic peers. He knows he's imperfect, and that all those ideas would be considered blasphemous. So he remains quiet, under the radar even with his strength; all to escape the possibility of being persecuted.

Its what draws him to the Morningstar. Lucifer, the powerful archangel with a heart of gold and a mind filled with wonder. (Also to anyone who's seen my blog, yes ofc im inserting radioapple im weak) Despite their gap in rank, Lucifer never treated him any differently, and Alastor found himself treating the shorter angel as an equal. Their friendship was a bit odd perhaps for the others, considering how they'd often greet each other with playful jabs and teasing remarks, all quite informal and rather unruly. He was drawn to Lucifer's ideas, as was Luci to him, both relishing in the fact that they weren't alone, despite being different.

Lucifer had always been the louder dreamer. Though Alastor often agreed with his ideas, and sometimes egged him on, Al knew the risks and knew when to pull back. He was cautious where Lucifer took risks.

And y'all already know its Radioapple but what if we add Lilith to the mix-

Like imagine, Lucifer coming back to Alastor and gushing about the first woman, the taller man amused at his friend's lovesick expressions. Imagine him being acquainted with Lilith, and charmed as well by passion and hopes for change. He's weak for dreamers okay-

Like imagine him helping the two hide their relationship, being the most cautious of the 3. Imagine his heartbreak when the two gets sent to hell. Imagine Lilith and Lucifer holding him, stopping him from falling with them, because he cant do this without them please-

This may have gotten away from me a bit

Anyway, there's also a teeny doodle of biblically accurate Angelic Alastor(idk ehat to call them, but those forms Sera and Em have when they go 👁👁👁👁)

Idk if i'll ever do anytjing with this. I have a whole fic playing in my head but its very long with a whole lot of plot and idk if im strong enough-

[mira-s-bookclub]

Beneath a Veil of Shadows Part 4

Azriel x Reader

Note: Woop- Started the series with Sera and Nyktos and have been OBSESSED the last few weeks. Omg. So writing hasn't been my first priority, hope the word count makes up for that <3. Didn't proof read, so I'm sorry, loves.

(Also used help from a lot of websites to create the mediocre 'poem', creds to those who make it themselves D: )

Warnings: Mentions of torture and trauma, some (minimal) blood, a "hard" choice :(

Word Count: 3,8k

. . . . . ╰──╮ ╭──╯ . . . . .

“What could be so important that he would exchange someone so vital to our court, and that only for a mirror?” Cassian spat.

His head had cleared a bit after Nesta had slapped his arm, swearing in his ear that if he couldn’t get it together, he would have to leave so the grown-ups could talk. The throbbing pain in his head shortened his temper, making him lash out more these last minutes than he had done the last year.

“The Ouroboros, Cassian, is not just a mirror,” Rhys scolded from his place by Feyre in the sofa.

No, he knew that. He wasn’t stupid despite what everyone seemed to believe. But what could possibly a King without a Kingdom do with a mirror able to reveal what truly lies beneath one’s skin, to see into one’s true soul? Cassian wasn’t inclined to gaze into the mirror, he wouldn’t want to see what really lied beneath his quick smiles and jokes. The darkness that, somehow, had led him to find another seemingly just as broken as he was. But where Nesta had changed, Cassian seemed to find himself feeling for that darkness at every step of the way, feel it change and evolve the more he concerned.

“The mirror of Beginnings and Endings,” he muttered. “There’s nothing special about that mirror, what would a fraud-king want with such?” He leaned back into the cushions, taking a long sip from his wine glass.

Amren had found our knowledge…lacking about Koschei and his army. She had found it in herself to leave for the library just down two floors. When she didn’t return, Rhys had concluded that she must have found something interesting enough for her to abandon us upstairs. We had all followed after him and Feyre like ducklings, Mor parting from us in the dim hallway just outside the Library doors in favor of wine straight from the cellar, which Cassian silently thanked her for now, his stomach feeling significantly lighter.

The library, which Cassian thought could feel his anxiety of being back here, had indeed held some information Amren found interesting. Which is why they had now chosen to sit on one of the lower levels of the library. Cassian had tried to count the levels he walked down the spiral stairs, but once he counted to eight, he found that it didn’t help his anxiousness a bit.

A priestess walked past the area they had seated, her pace causing the light from the torch to flicker. Her figure casting shadows along the walls. A shiver ran down his back, almost like fingernails. He emptied the glass.

Rhys looked to Feyre at his side, his arm around her, lazily stroking her arm, “Anything noteworthy to add from when you encountered the mirror?”

She sighed, “I really wish there were, but there’s nothing I can remember. I know only that when I looked into it, it… -it showed everything.” Her voice cracked slightly. And Cassian could see Rhys’s arm tightened around her. He knew she had to face herself, quite literally, in that mirror.

Nesta waved a dismissing hand, “Well, it’s nothing you can do anything about,” she traced a hand up Cassian’s thigh, following the seam of his black linen pants. “You are the only person I know who would have faced herself and all her flaws, and still have been in their right mind and keep going,” she looked pointily at Rhys. Mor snorted.

Cassian still couldn’t understand their relationship, the Gods knew he had tried. One second, they seemed like Siblings, understanding and able to do quite literally the impossible for each other. But the next second, they were at each other’s throats. It was as if Rhys remembered who he was talking to, what despair Nesta had forced upon Feyre, and even if it were all past, Rhys couldn’t seem to forgive her. But Cassian couldn’t blame him, if anyone, even deep into depression, caused Nesta the amount of trauma she had? Cassian would have never let it go. He supposed he was hypocritical that way.

He glanced at Mor and then at the bottle by her feet, half empty. She lifted her brows but poured him another glass, to which he thanked her. The stack of books on the low table had increased every time Amren came by. She had asked around the priestesses for scrolls, books, even maps. Cassian had even heard her asking on of the younger priestesses if some of her peers had written anything for the High priestess concerning The Old Gods and where they might have come from.

Hearing the familiar shuffle of feet, Cassian prepared for another stack of books, high enough to bury Amren behind it, but what he saw caught his breath.

Dusty and out of breath, stood Amren, holding a lone big book in her arms.

Thick rope covered the book, along with an iron lock at its side. The book was a deep brown color, the leather cracked and... - “Good gods, is that...fur?” Nesta shuddered.

Holding her arms tight around the book, almost like it would disappear from her if she didn’t, she laid the book on the table. And the table squeaked at the weight. How Amren had been able to carry that book up so many flights of stairs, and Cassian was sure that book belonged to the bottom levels of the library, was a wonder.

Amrens back cracked as she straightened. “You have many books Rhysand,” she sat down at the only empty chair by the wall, the high window above showering the book with moonlight, “but get your Priestesses to upgrade their accounting. I had to search.”

Rhysand had pushed to the end of the couch, fingers digging into his thighs. “That is not natural.” And Cassian could have sworn the air around them tensed, as if offended.

Nesta made a move towards the book, but Cassian stopped her. Whirling her head at him, he could faintly make out a silver line at the outskirts of her iris. “Don’t, this is not for you,” his voice was quiet. She took a calming breath and turned back to Rhys, who, himself, held a hand to his chest, slowly rubbing. Feyre whispered something in his ear, a question appeared in his eyes, but she nodded. And moved to the book.

Standing above it, she glanced at Amren, who was quiet for a time, then, “Be careful.” Feyre nodded, and took a deep breath, readying herself.

Cassian could definitely feel the change in temperature, his breath coming out like a cold cloud. And the shivers down his back had increased, shaking him in his boots. The chamber was quiet and dark, and looking at the torch on the wall, he confirmed that it had indeed gone out. He wasn’t scared; there was little he was scared of. But this wasn’t natural; this was old, ancient. And you would be a fool not to be afraid.

Holding out a hand, Feyre lit up two fingers, the flames the only source of light. And as she took a hold of one of the ropes containing the book, burning through one; the book shuddered.

A gasp echoed from Nesta and Feyre, the latter who shot backwards.

“Cowards,” Amren murmured, and Rhys, who had his hand on Feyre’s arm, narrowed his gaze to the book.

“There is a reason why it is contained.”

“Obviously,” Amren made a show of dusting herself off, giving them all a good look at the cat-like scratches covering her arms.

Cassian looked back to the seemingly innocent book, leaning forward he could spot the intricate details he had overlooked before. The cuts and dents, almost resembling…people, a story written outside the book. “What type of book is this?” It was a rhetorical question hanging in the air. The quiet in the Library enhancing the howling wind outside, the quiet footsteps skipping in the higher levels of the Library. Cassian couldn’t wait to get out of here, something that shouldn’t be here was here. Something Y/n probably could have picked up on. He had to remind himself of why they did this, what they would risk getting either of them home. A snagging pain lanced through his chest at the reminder. The reminder that there were two missing people, missing friends, that Cassian loved so dearly. He didn’t know what would happen to either of them. What was happening? Perhaps Koschei had seemed it fit for them to be tortured? Or maybe they had been murdered at once, exchanging only their mangled bodies for that gods-damned mirror.

Cassian’s shudder was strong enough for questioning glances to come his way. Mor even went as far as to give him his glass, which he drank deeply from.

“We can get another book; it’s not guaranteed we’ll find anything in this.” Amren’s disapproving stare hit Rhys like a slap.

“If it’s not this book, it’s none.”

“It’s fine Rhys, it just shocked me.” Feyre’s unfaltering bravery was known to all, especially those in this room.

Cassian’s breath stopped as Feyre, yet again, went to burn the ropes. Her hands curling around strands when the rope wouldn’t budge, fire lit her whole hands and the furrow of her brows signaled that this couldn’t be some normal rope you could buy anywhere.

The rope was unyielding.

“I’m going to free you,” Feyre’s soft voice seemed almost heartfelt.

And only then did the rope catch fire.

Burning black until Feyre could nudge away the ruined threads, laying the book back on the table.

Feyre’s breath caught.

“What do you feel?” Rhys was concerned, taking her hand, and standing to put himself between her and the book.

Feyre was quiet. “It’s alive. Not a soul…but a conscience,” she looked at the hideous book. “It doesn’t have needs, but it yearns. Oh, gods, it yearns so much.”

She looked almost frightened as she stood there, staring at the book with facial expression almost like…sorrow. She felt sorrow, either from the book or for the book, Cassian didn’t know.

“A book can’t yearn.” And faster than Cassian could react, Nesta stood up and grabbed hold of the book.

“No.”

Cassian couldn’t stop the word from slipping.

Mor had sunk back into the chair, Amren the only one not reacting, her keen eyes trained on the book.

“Let it down, Nesta,” Rhys growled.

But Nesta, that unwavering, fiery soul Cassian loved so much, waved the book in the air.

“It’s a book, nothing more, nothing less.”

But as the book began vibrating, softly at first, and then enough so that Nesta flinched, dropping the shaking book on the ground.

“That is no book,” Amren said, having left her chair to stand by the only entrance, and exit, of the chamber.

The ropes had dropped from the book, leaving it naked and crazed on the ground. Dust pounded from it and Cassian took a hold of Nesta who had frozen, shocked, and slowly retreated to the bookshelf.

All at once the book stopped, freezing into place. And for a time, no one said anything; nothing happened. The wind outside had calmed entirely.

The world seemed to stop. Seemed to watch.

Cassian held his breath.

Click.

And the lock opened.

Click.

And the world fell into chaos.

White light shot through the chamber, blinding him.

He fell back as a weight toppled over him, crushing against his chest.

“Fuck,” he ground out. The weight, which he guessed was Nesta, fell away from him and he shot up. Clearing his blurry vision revealed utter chaos in the chamber.

Cassian hauled Nesta up and away from the collapsing shelf, the entire ground shelf burned to ash. Holding her close he felt her confusion through their bond.

On the other side of the chamber, Amren had gotten hold of Feyre who had flown back from Rhys who held his back to the book, shielding them. His shirt scratched like a cat.

Another pulse of power from the open book sent books flying. He shielded Nesta, but not before a page nicked his cheek. Fiery silver eyes met his, and when she caressed his cheek, her thumb came back bloodied. A growl slipped her mouth.

“Get that damn book,” Rhys shouted.

Pure power spewed from the book, sending the bookshelf beside Rhys crashing down, separating him from everyone else.

Silver flames burned Nesta’s cuffs, relentless against the harsh wind coming from the book.

“Don’t you dare harm it!” Amren shrieked.

“Fuck, Amren. The cauldron-cursed book is going to harm us!” Cassian shouted back. Shielding his face with his hand, marching sideways with Nesta behind him to her.

“We need that cauldron-cursed book,” she hissed.

“Why?”

“Feyre!” Rhys’s warning fell away to the wind as Feyre moved to the couch, closer to the book.

A blast of power sent Cassian back against the still standing shelf, he didn’t know what to do.

“Feyre!” he roared, flying book obliterated before they could touch him.

Standing before the book, untouched, was Feyre.

A bright light shielded her.

Helion’s powers.

Spellcleaver.

Feyre advanced towards the book, her hair snapping behind her. And once within reach; the book trembled, the vortex crackled like lightning.

And Feyre flung herself over the book, her shining hands grabbed hold of the two sides.

And pushed.

All at once.

Snap.

The world went quiet.

Feyre panted over the book. Her lips moved without making a sound.

Or perhaps she was, Cassian couldn’t hear anything other than ringing.

Shaking his head he saw Rhys running up to her. Cassian turned to Nesta, grabbed hold of her cheeks, and kissed her. Her lips sparked a fire in Cassian that bordered the power of that of the book.

Turning his face from her took effort, he saw Feyre trying to catch her breath with her forehead laying on top of the book. Her lips had stopped moving.

Slowly, Rhys looked up at the three of them.

“A deal,” Rhys said, “Feyre made a deal with the Book of The Lost Ones.”

“So, it’s a children book, made up of fairy-tales and utter nonsense?”

“It’s more than that, Cassian,” Amren took a steadying breath, “along with The Book of breathings, it was Made. Not to be read to fealings and babes; but to carry a long history captured and hidden in an innocent book.”

Amren had clarified that when she had found the book, it had spewed knowledge, or rather small stories and poems, about The First Mother and her creations. She had shared her thoughts about it, what she hoped were true. The book had clarified a lot for her, she had told us, not noticing Rhys’s disapproving stare at her not sharing everything.

“Well, listen closely, Rhysand, and I will share this with you.”

And that she did.

The First Mother had created life, giving souls to beings meant to rule rightly and fairly without the mortal weakness of emotions and feelings. Cassian’s head had turned to Nesta then, reminded of the being she became when using the Dread Trope, unfeeling and uncaring. The First Mother hadn’t considered that the First Beings would develop a restlessness after centuries. The Mother had feared the Beings would begin to feel other types of emotions, the sisterly rage she feared alongside jealousy made her create the first humans.

Cassian had heard similarities from other books and stories shared long ago, but it seemed Amren finally had connected the dots. And when she first started, it was hard to stop everything from spewing out.

The Firsts, as Amren called them, developed curiosity when The First Mother was looking the other way, curiosity over the humans and their ability to act and feel so deeply. Years later, the first fae had been born, more powerful than any fae today, but the babe had a flaw; it felt. Reproduction was the end of the Firsts, and not soon later, the First Mother got bored over her creations. She made life to her only daughter; cleaving her soul in two so they could reign as opposites; The mother and The Dark Mother.

 Amren’s hypothesis was that along with the Book of Breathings, the former fae had created the Book of the Lost Ones, hiding it as something unimportant. The book, as Amren had felt it, would tell the tale of the first trespassers, ‘gods’ they were called by the former fae. Fear of the Three had spread through the land like a plague.

Koschei.   Stryga.   Veles.

Those were their names.

The Bone Carver, or rather Veles, had the Ouroboros last, that was what they were after next. The discussion had gone on for a while. Ending in Amren having to look up Koschei in the Book of the Lost Ones, searching for a way for him to be killed, while another party went to retrieve the mirror.

“Someone must have noticed the strange aura coming from the book and sealed it in spells and…” she sniffed the air, “-skin.”

A shudder went through him as he refocused and gazed at the book on the broken table.

They had sat back down, Rhys having to stand as the couch opposite Cassian’s whole was destroyed, flayed more like. Nesta had reluctantly sat down beside him.

The book must have looked somewhat normal at some point. Perhaps if he peeled the thick layers of leather and fur, he would find a pretty little book beneath all the hideousness. At least, that was what Cassian hoped. Though he wasn’t very inclined to touch the damn book.

The book, as Feyre had said, was harmless as long as its demands were met, which, Cassian thought, was quite dumb yet again. What was it with people demanding and wanting and needing such stupid things from them?

The book had communicated to Feyre about wanting to be reunited with The Dark Mother. Cassian huffed. Reunited with the Mother’s twin. As a babe, Cassian had taken an interest in fairy-tales, told by Rhysand’s mother’s strong immersion when storytelling. He had taken a liking to the stories of The Mother, and how she came to be. She was known as a fierce entity, prayed upon by Everyone, here to distribute strength and help too those she found dear. But Rhys’s mother had told a different story, a story shared by her own mother, telling the story of one soul split in two, destined to bring balance to the new realm made. Cassian couldn’t remember how the realm had been created, or how a soul could be cleaved, but he thought the mother might have remade that event into The Matings. Perhaps it was her way of feeling whole again; splitting two beings, dooming them to never find peace should they be separated. Cassian could almost hear her motherly voice right now.

In twilight’s hush, where shadows playeth,

A soul was born, ‘i fragments greyeth.

Did divide whole, ‘i darkness hath fell,

And lighteth, with longing, beganeth to tell.

The dark half hath felt the stingeth of pain,

And sorrow’s weight, ‘i vain.

It kneweth nay joy, nor love’s sweet refrain,

Only the ache of endless strain.

The lighteth half yearned for wholeness true,

For unity, and all it couldst doth.

It longed to healeth the rift apart,

And mendeth the drops of sorrow that pierced its heart.

But alas, the dark half couldst not seeth,

The beauty that the lighteth couldst beeth.

It saw only shadows, dark and grim,

And hath felt the stingeth of every whim.

The story steadied Cassians heart, his soul. The sad memory of Rhys’s mother a sharp pain in his chest. He didn’t want to think about Rhys's mother and sister right now, not when his two of his most loved people were missing, and he could do fuck-nothing about it.

He could almost see it clearly; being called back to the camp in emergency, finding two golden polished boxes in the biggest of the war tents. Seeing Rhysand, quiet and shaking, scratching at his throat until skin caved way to tendons and blood. He could envision it so clearly. Walking past him, straight to those open boxes on the map-filled table. Dripping blood.

But he didn’t see their silken black hair, their swollen faces nor their peaceful expressions.

He saw Y/n and Azriel.

Faces consorted into pain. Precise cuts and breaks marring their flesh.

Cassian didn’t notice his shaking until Nesta shook him.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”

Cassian shook himself out of her grasp, shaking his head. “What if they’re beyond helping? What if they’re already gone?” he yelled the last bit, not at Nesta but at the situation they had at hand.

Nesta curled her arms around him once again, holding him close to her chest as he shook with unfelled tears.

He didn’t care who saw him as he fell apart.

They had to choose.

Either, one of them could be traded, or neither. They had to choose between them.

He faintly felt Feyre’s hand on his shoulder too, everyone going quiet.

Would they choose Y/n? It was what Azriel would have wanted, but it was not guaranteed that she would be sane coming home. And it was a horrible thought. A horrible, horrible thought that Cassian would shame himself for the rest of his long, long life. Azriel was accustomed, as bad as it sounded, to torture. He could retrieve vial information, not only about Koschei and his army, but about the location, the sounds, the people, everything about where they were held captive. Azriel had been trained for this his entire life. An Illyrian male was less thrilling to capture, would get less attention. But a female warrior? Now that was something the cruelest in this world found ecstatic. He couldn’t be sure she would come back the same or come back at all. His throat tightened. At the same time, he knew Azriel would never forgive them should they chose him over her. He would rather burn the world down, and him along with it, than set Y/n in danger. He knew they had fallen out, the tension between them only visible to the outsiders. But he knew the brilliant spark they shared would never go out, no matter what. They were destined for each other.

He lifted his head and shared a look with Rhys over Nesta’s shoulder. He knew the answer to his question, deep down they all knew.

Choosing Azriel would give them a higher chance of retrieving both, but at the cost of Y/n.

Choosing Y/n would mean setting Azriel at risk, who had gone through such events before and had a higher tolerance physically than Y/n, though he knew nightmares still haunted him at night.

Cassian knew he was often perceived as dumber than his companions; but he wasn’t the General Commander of the Night Court’s armies for nothing.

Stealing himself, Cassian reached out to Rhys through Deamati, delaying the only plan of which he could think.

“We find the mirror, duplicate it and exchange for Y/n.”

. . . . . ╰──╮ ╭──╯ . . . . .

To be added to the Taglists, comment:

All ACOTAR - 🌹

All Azriel - 🥀

All TOG - 🌼

Taglist: @calisnewworld

[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

Do you think the Elders of Heaven will get involved in the story at some point? And if so, what role do you see them playing?

Hello ol'chum!

I assume by Elders of Heaven means the stereotypical Archangel lore.

We already have a few silhouettes.

We have these 6. I assume their Lucifer siblings. Which I am surprise isnt 7 as there can be "7 main archangels" It would also counterbalance the Sins of Hell

You have these other different angles at seem to be on par with Sera level...tho they appear to have less wings...so maybe lesser? The also seem to be in the court scene as well (and stood below Sera)

then we have these guys

While the middle has 6, and the others have 4. Maybe its their "true forms?"

It really depends how much run time if we get to be introduced to them beside a passing glance. . Assuming we continue to only get eight 25 mins episodes a season, it does dim the chance to see them. It's not a lot of runtime to cram everything in, while also no knowing how long the show run. So, the creators have to semi tie up arches and stories while leaving openings to continue the story.

We already have such large cast and the story takes place mostly in Hell, not Heaven So chances for more Angel characters to appear outside of Heaven are low . We are left with a few storylines that will connect next season. The Vees, Alastor quest to break his Deal as well trying to fulfill it, The Hotels and the residence own stories for character development, Lute and Lilith, (Possibly Adam?), And finally Emily/Sera/Sir Pentious. So there is already a lot going on with the characters we already know to add more. Plus the possibility of the characters that are on the backburner such as Baxter and Crymini, Also, I would like to see the other Sins come out to play beside Helluvah Boss.

If we are given a "You are preapproved for 7 seasons!" we would get to more characters come out to play. I would be very excited to see Hazbin take on the archangels.

BUT that said, It depends how the Heaven story lines goes with Lute and Sir Pentious. Are they going to be secret meetings about Sir Pentious redemption with the higher beings? Is Lute revenge going to be secret attack or is she going to stage a full attack? The latter would probably need the higher beings approval that would help introduce the archangels.

There are different amount of named archangels. 7-12+.

If we can't get multiple Archangels and only get to witness one, I believe it be Michael. Just guessing the creator want to loosely inspired by the bibical stories.

By the bible, Michael was the one that defeated Lucifer and casted him to from paradise. While, the show seem to have Lucifer merely accept his faith and fell, it doesn't mean that the show (and Lucifer) possibly telling was omitting a fight that would surely tramazited Lucifer that he had to fight his own brother. I don't think Lucifer one that would share and divulge much about his fall. I think he avoids talking about it.

Even, if we look pass that bit, The bible mention Michael battled Satan twice. I know in the show, there's a Sin Satan, and Lucifer as two people but in the bible they appear as one. So If we get an archangel appearance, I believe its Michael because who wouldn't watch the drama that will unfold between Lucifer and his brother, both being on opposing sides?

Also, Michael is a representation of courage, protection and cleansing...and that seem to line up with the whole extermination thing. Considering the Exorcist lost their general, we assume Lute would take that mantel but I wouldn't be surprised if Michael makes his appearance by stepping into the role to lead Heaven army for a big showdown.

Who I would like to see is Jeremiel because I think he would be hilarious. His role is to have a soul view their life and past to figure out lessons the soul was meant to learn from the experience. Help the soul understand the lessons, learn from their mistakes and see the "light" to make a change for the better. Sort of like like Scrooge and his three ghost from a Christmas Carol.

I can see this archangel being integrated to help Charlie's dream. Using his skills to help redeem souls.

Why I think he be a fun addition, is he supposed (I think in the show and cast to help sinners he may be flabbergasted and appalled a number of times...*coughcough AlastorCough*) to be non judgemental, he also meant to be brutally honest. (Which I think Charlie might chastise him over) He would have to show them their life on Earth but additionally their time in Hell. Which may lead Jeremiel to become queasy as soul in Hell are more deplorable than they were in Earth since there's less inhibitions.

I think it be entertaining to see him trying to show the light to someone like Alastor who probably see his "moral mistakes" as his greatest achievements and doesnt show regret over it. Alastor would view the events fondly. Alastor being greatly entertained to be able to view his carnage.

Some other Sinners also handle it with a great deal of scoffing with skepticism and defensensive but more or less, Jeremiel contributions works.

Other likely candidates who possibly make an appearance:

Mataron the highest of Angels and have direct contact with G(o)od. So, when they try to contact G(o)od, they would have go through Metaron. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a plot twist that G(o)od been absent and Mataron just been covering it up and its really him ruling Heaven as he tries to figure out their missing leader while keeping status quo. Oh! just thought of a drama filled! Roo already corrupted him, which may be why no one seem to hear from g(O)od.

Azrael. "Angel of Death". However he really isn't death, he just greatly associated to death as he escorts souls to their afterlife. Since he deals with death and souls transfer I can see how he can make a brief appearance. More so if he has a new course to ferries redeemed souls to Heaven (without them dying to complete their redemption)

Gabriel might be one. Only because he has a big name. I don't see typical roles fitting into the Hazbin universe much.

Raquel might come to play as a mediator or judge if there's more of a court type of storyline between Heaven and Hell. He meant to be unbiased and impartial while banishing disagreements while encouraging fairness. Chamuel might come to play alongside with Raquel. Chamuel being a sympathetic character who foster peace.

I be interested in any thoughts shared over this.

[shanaraharlyah]

For the WIP Folder Game, DAI Trespasser and your original fiction An Elven Tale please 👀

Thank you for asking @sillyliterature!

DAI Trespasser is my Dorian x Lavellan fic. Everything I've written so far is after meeting with Solas. It's filling in the blanks between scenes that we don't see and trying to expand on Kartaelin's relationship dynamic with Dorian and the others. You can read a good bit of it with the artwork here and here, but I'll add another snippet for you here! ☺️

Kartaelin smiled at the Tevinter mage as he wrapped his good arm around Dorian’s, “Lead the way, ma vhenan!” Dorian took hold of the elf’s shoulder as well as his hand and gestured to the others to begin the trek back.  “Oh, and Sera, I did use his name, just for you,” he said smugly with a wink. “Pffft.” Sera blew a raspberry as she rolled her eyes, “Arse.” Dorian sighed, again, and leaned in toward the Inquisitor, “Tell me again why you invited her along.” Kartaelin chuckled. “Because you get along so well!” he teased.  “But really, you can’t tell me that you don’t enjoy the verbal jousting.” “I think the word you’re looking for is abuse, verbal abuse,” Dorian said loudly.  “That’s not the only ‘jousting’ I enjoy,” he added under his breath and raised an eyebrow at the elf.  From behind them, Sera burst into a fit of laughter.   “I’d hit you for that if I had another arm to do it with.  Gods, you are such a dirty man sometimes,” Kartaelin mock scolded.  Dorian frowned at the mention of his arm, but didn’t let it ruin their playful banter.  “You know you love it,” he responded, with a smoldering look at the Inquisitor. The elf laughed, “I do, truly.”

An Elven Tale honestly doesn't have much written yet. This story and the characters have lived rent free in my head for 20+ years in some form, but fandom always seems to suck me in before I get very far writing wise. There's a general outline, a few notes and a couple scenes written. And a bunch of art/renders in various forms of completion. It's the story of Sarovanya and his companions, coming of age and trying to follow their hearts. Most of what I have written and finished art wise involves a love triangle between Saro, Tarwen and Morcundu, so I'll link some of those here and give you a little snip from the file.

Morcundu had spent the afternoon readying the old ruin for this evening.  The place had always been important to him, being somewhere he could escape to, but the time he'd spent there with Tarwen had made it all the more precious.  They were to meet here again this evening and he'd already built a small fire in the fire pit they'd constructed on the old stone floor.  In anticipation of the coming rain, he'd gathered dry wood to feed the fire and stacked it in the far corner.  He'd brought with him furs in case the rain turned chill and lit candles to brighten the place as the forest had already turned overcast. He stood back from their makeshift table and smiled.  Tarwen's acceptance and love in spite of the tension and hatred between their respective races filled him with hope, and he would do anything to foster this relationship and bring their people together.  A lofty goal he knew. There was so much bitterness in the hearts of his people toward the elves who had left them behind, but there were so many others suffering for the hate of the few.  And it was the actions of those in power that drove the others around them to fear and hate.  He had to believe in hope and Tarwen had been that light for him.

Love Is Colorblind

A Safe Haven

Love Will Keep You Up All Night

Hope you enjoy! And always up for questions if you've got any! :)

[skyrim-forever]

NSFW! Devour Me -Teldryn Sera x Serana Volkihar

@t00thpasteface it is done! I tried to emphasis Serena's vampire-ness so let me know if it comes through! Wish I made it more monster-fucking but alas, there's always next time. We did keep the Femdom overtones tho

Words: 2k

“So you’re here with the vampire?”

Teldryn finished his sujamma, placing the jar in front of him on the bar, before answering Geldis’s question. 

“I’m here with my current employer yes” 

Geldis’s eyes dart over to the sultry figure in the corner, Serana is laughing with some of the other patrons of the Retching Netch. In between conversations she briefly looks at him before making her eyes to Teldryn, her tongue swiping across her bottom lip. 

“Have you seen the way she looks at me?” Teldryn says.

“Like she wants to crack you open like a fine bottle of wine.”

“Ah, so you have noticed” He laughs at this, like becoming the prey of a bloodsucking monster is normal. His friend was always one for danger but even this was a bit much for him.  

“Don’t you worry my friend, I can handle myself.” Although originally he was afraid of his vampiric companion, to the point where he was considering learning to sleep with his eyes open, this fear had subsided into something else. Vampires were wretched creatures but the danger made her all the more enticing. She was plenty attractive as is, with silky dark hair and her dry sense of humour; but it was when the hunger took hold that really drove him crazy. Her red eyes wide, mouth gaping and growling -no something far more primal than growling- admitting from her. Watching her feast on rats, deer, the occasional traveller, left the dunmer both in fear and awe. 

By Azura, I wish that were me.

“Here she comes” The barkeep said, snapping Teldryn back to the present from his thoughts. Serana walk up to where they are at the bar. 

“Hello Geldis” she says, looking at Teldryn instead. 

“Greetings outlander, I suppose I have you to blame for taking my friend away”

Serana laughs, eyes never leaving her hired companion. 

“We’ll be on the island for a few weeks, going to go digging in a few dwemer ruins before heading back to Skyrim.”

“Ah dwemer ruins, forgive me if that doesn’t sound enchanting.”

“It’s a lovely challenge, although not much of a challenge for one of my talents” Teldryn says, entering the conversation. Though, with Serana’s eyes staring into his soul, he can’t help but feel Geldis is the outsider in this discussion. 

Geldis senses this too and adds “the rooms on the end are yours for the next two nights” before excusing himself. Teldryn nods at Geldis and turns his attention to Serana. 

“So boss, what’s the plan for the rest of the evening?”

  “Well the night is still young and the drinks are still flowing, I say we enjoy ourselves for the time being. The ruins will certainly be less than inviting.” 

“I’ll drink to that” The mercenary laughs, about to flag Geldis down again for another round. 

“Oh yes, I have something for you, a bit of a bonus for handling that bear attack outside of Windhelm.”

“Oh, do you now?” 

“Follow me” she says, making her way down the hallway to their rooms. Teldryn gets up from his seat, following close behind. 

Once inside he remarks “so what kind of bonus are we talking about here? You’ve already given me more than enough-”

Teldryn closes the door, turning back to look at her,  yet again she is staring at him. Teldryn notices her eyes are wide, her mouth agape -the hunger.

Serana closes the distance between them, all but pinning him against the door. 

“I’m hungry Teldryn.”

“Are you now?”

“I don’t think rats are going to suffice this time.” She moves her arms up to his neck, with one hand caressing his cheek, a finger trailing down his neck. She is taller than him, towering over him while the lights of the room illuminate her face. Serana is a vision, ancient and primordial, powerful. Teldryn felt his pants tighten and despite the fridge temperatures of her hand, he found himself becoming unbearably warm. 

“I know you’ve seen how I look at you, like I want to suck you dry, eat you alive”

Teldryn dawns a dark smile “Then devour me darling”.

Serana wastes no time sinking her fangs deep into his neck, the contact making him yelp out of a mix of pain and pleasure. She does not nip or suck the skin, but rather plunges into a large artery, quickly drawing blood. At her hunger being satisfied, she lets out a deep, guttural moan. At this sound Teldryn moans even louder. 

“Fuck”

Teldryn brings a hand to her head, holding her closer to his neck, lightly running his fingers through her hair as he deals with the intense sensation crossing through him. She is messy in her feeding, he feels blood begin to drip down his neck and under his armour before she growls and gestures for him to remove it. He does so without question, stripping it away until he’s bare from the waist up. She dives back in, this time leaving the open wound on his neck and licking the stray blood that’s begun to run down his clavicle. Upon returning to his neck proper, Serana sucks the sensitive skin around the wound, before closing it up with her spit. 

Teldryn looks up at her, eyes still wide and blood, his blood, dripping down her face. He grabs the front of her armour, pulling her lips into his. She meets his enthusiasm, running her tongue on his bottom lip to ask for entrance, which he grants more than willingly. Tasting his own blood is not something he ever expected to do but fuck if it didn’t make him feral. The burnt rust taste was rather pleasant and he felt pressure continuing to build in this cock, the organ desperate to be touched. As he lowers his hand to palm at himself through his far-too-tight pants, Serana breaks their kiss and replaces his hand with hers. Undoing the laces of his pants and freeing him, grasping around him firmly, she begins to move her hand up and down his shaft. 

“Fuck” Teldryn manages to say in between moans “maybe I shouldn’t be te one paying you.”

Serana chuckles darkly “No need for payment, just be good for me, you do that for me can’t you?”

All he does is moan obscenely, at this moment there’s nothing he wants more than to be good for her. A woman so dark and sublime, dangerous and strong, is currently jacking him off and he’ll do anything to keep it that way.  Her touch is electric and unlike anything he’s ever felt before. Teldryn was no stranger to lovers, but none had been as magnetic as her. He wondered now, drunk on her touch, intoxicated by the pleasure, if she feared the sun because she knew she was  far, far more radiant.  

It’s when she returns to his neck, the biting and moaning accompanying her touch, that he knows he’s at his end. 

“Can’t, can’t take much more”

Serana takes her lips off his neck for a brief second to utter “then come for me”. The filthiest moan leaves Teldryn’s lips as she pleasures him through his orgasm, her hand rasping tighter and he winds down from it. 

Breathing heavily, he mumbles “That, that was, you were-”

Serana kisses him to stop him mid-sentence. 

“Oh I’m not done with you yet.”

Now it is Teldryn’s eyes that are wide, before he narrows them and follows her as she leads him to the bed. Shoving him onto it, he takes a moment to remove the remainder of his clothing, tossing it to the side. It is not long before her’s joins his on the floor, her boots slumped against the end table. She stands over him, pale skin nearly glowing as he takes in her entirely. Serana climbs on top of him, towering over him once again and gives his cock a few strokes, not needing much to get him fully erect again. 

“What do you want?” she asks.

“You, oh fuck, you” he answers. 

Serana laughs again, sinking into him and moaning loudly as she is filled by him.She is cold but its not unpleasant, her cool body meeting his warmth creates a new sensation that leaves him lightheaded. Teldryn has abandoned any of the already little dignity he has left to cry out “By Azura, fuck”

The vampire begins to ride him, head thrown back and breasts moving in time with her movements. Teldryn reaches up to grasp them, pulling, gently, at her nipple. Upon hearing her low moan, he moves up closer to her, enough to put it in his mouth. His tongue laps at the soft skin surrounding it, before he plunges his teeth into her. This causes a growl to come from Serana and in a brief moment of clarity Teldryn thinks so she likes to be bitten back. He continues his ministrations on her breasts, biting and fondling as she grinds harder on him. Not wanting to be a selfish lover, he moves his hands down to her centre, giving her clit a few experimental touches in order to find out what she likes. Circling her clit with two fingers causes her to tense around him, obtaining a deep, feral sound from both of them. 

“Keep moving just like that, oh you're so good aren’t you”

This woman is going to take his soul right out of his body, her praise just spurs him on, continuing the same motion only harder. Serana’s legs begin to shake and her orgasm washes over her. Now it’s her turn for a filthy moan and Teldryn is sure Geldis and the other patrons have heard but right now he doesn’t care. He just made this vision of a woman finish and he is going to drink in the memory of her coming undone on top of him. 

“Oh so strong, you’re so strong and you make me feel so good” Teldryn hums happily at this, Serana comes down from her high, climbing off him to sit on the edge of the bed, grasping his cock. 

“Can you come for me again, you look so delicious when you do” 

Teldryn swallows, before answering “Yeah I can, I can for you, oh” she rides him, studying how his face contorts in pleasure as she moves up and down his shaft, the dark purple veins pulsating. He closes his eyes to just focus on the feeling, he doesn’t want it to end just yet and he fears if he looks at her too long that’ll be it. He feels her thumb on his slit, before a long, wet, lick forces his eyes open. Teldryn sees her licking along the underside of his cock, her eyes staring at him both asking for his pleasure and letting him know she’s in charge. He feels spent and Serana can tell by the way his legs have begun to shake. She sits back up, once again looking down on him. 

“Come”

And he does, thrusting into her hand and crying out a string of obscenities.

“Fuck, fuck, by the three! Oh you’re so gorgeous, fuck you make me, oh fuck”

As he comes down from his second orgasm of the night, Serana grabs a cloth from the end table and cleans up. He whines a bit at her cleaning him up, more of a reaction from being overstimulated.  After they are both clean, Serana lays down beside him, tracing his tattoos as he hums quietly, grateful for her gentle touch. 

“That was certainly a bonus” he speaks first. 

“I couldn’t help myself, from when I first saw you without your helmet I wanted to know what it would be like to skin my teeth into you. To know what you tasted like” Serana says, staring at him, although now her hunger is quenched, only lust remaining in them. 

“Maybe next time I can taste you instead” He meets her half-lidded gaze. 

Before she can respond, they hear a knock at the door. 

“She didn’t hurt you, did she Teldryn?” The slightly panicked voice of Geldis responses. 

“He’s fine Geldis” Serana laughs. 

“More than fine” Teldryn adds. 

“Definitely more than fine” he says, this time in a whisper only loud enough for them to hear.

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[andreahamiltonblog]

Ettore Spalletti

‘I like to think of myself as a figurative painter like Turner rather than an artist. I love Turner a lot. When I use pink, I think of the complexion of human skin that changes along with our mood, while blue is atmospheric, it’s a colour in which we are constantly immersed, it’s the colour of the sky. White is the colour of the light, and grey is the colour of reception because it’s able to unite all the other colours. A grey, for example, can lead you to blue, cobalt and ultramarine, but also to purple.’ - Ettore Spalletti, 2016

Ettore Spalletti (1940-2019) was born in Cappelle sul Tavo (Pescara). He began his career when Arte Povera was revolutionizing visual culture in Italy and beyond. Spalletti developed a singular, solitary voice and a resultant body of work that exceeds any movement that circumscribes an artist to regional or ideological boundaries. Spalletti’s formal vocabulary has always melded and balanced painting and sculpture, form and colour, interior and exterior space. Each work is the result of a meditative but rigorous process of applying a layer of colour at the same time of each day, to capture a specific tone that recalls an hour, a season, and the weather. 

Spalletti would first create a paste, to which he would add colour and, once dry, work the surface with sandpaper, resulting in an inviting powder quality. These lustrous hues covered not only traditional rectangular surfaces but also columns, floors, walls, and shaped supports. Inspired by painters like Masaccio and Piero della Francesca, as well as by the tones of the Abruzzo region in which he lived, Spalletti’s works have been variously compared to the work of Anne Truitt, Mark Rothko, and Ellsworth Kelly.

📷 1. Ettore Spalletti, Azzurro della sera, 2016, Marian Goodman Gallery

2. Ettore Spalletti, Carta, 2013, Marian Goodman Gallery

3. Ettore Spalletti, Parole di colore, rossoazzurro, 2011, Marian Goodman Gallery

4. Ettore Spalletti in his Moscufo studio with Stanza Azzurra, Dedicata a Mio Fratello che Amava Gli Azzurri, 2006. Photography by Matteo Piazza

[remolupini]

Sunday Snippet

I was tagged by @propheciesanddreams <3

Finding something was hard because I've barely written fanfic this week, but here's one more bit of Highway on Your Mind (at this point I've probably shared everything I've written for it in snippets)

TW: past attempted murder, parental abandonment

«I can make myself something to eat later, Mrs Potter, since I’m in the kitchen, and…»

Effie leans over to take their hand. «Sweetheart, they’re not going to like me regardless of where you eat, and I’d like to see you at that table. You’re more family than they could ever dream to be, Remus.»

Everyone in the Potter family has the power to just say ridiculously deep stuff like it’s the shopping list. They believe it, vehemently, but it's also just something they say while stealing a stripe of bacon from your plate.

Potter Manor, officially Selwyn Manor, is hosting Princess Euphemia’s nephew and his family today for lunch, and yet Remus Lupin, child of a blood whore and – according to rumours at school – well on their way to become one themself, is more important than them.

It’s so overwhelming to be cared for like this, so they put a bit of everything on a plate and bring it to Guardian Lawson. 

She nods to thank them, and after eating a bit of toast asks «So how did training go?»

James groans. «We could use some help,» he says, the request clear in his tone. They got one of the guardians to help them a couple times, especially when Monty is up and about with nothing to do and doesn’t mind being near guard to his wife.

Generally it’s Alan, because he’s younger, and as such more likely to indulge the teenagers. But Johanna has been assigned to Effie for longer than James has been alive, so sometimes he manages to get her to cave in just because he used to be a child whose life she once saved. 

For some reason, at six James had no idea his plain oatmeal shouldn’t have smelled like almonds. 

She looks at James, and then at Remus, before answering. «Maybe tomorrow, if you sleep during the day.»

Remus is not ready to go back to a nocturnal routine yet. They’ll have to, obviously, but back to school isn’t for a couple more weeks, so for now they’ll enjoy their daytime.

«It’s safer to leave Euphemia’s side during the day, especially if we’re going to be outside. No chances of Strigoi attacks.»

Alan laughs. «That’s why we sleep then.»

«You should get used to the dark, as part of your training. Attacks don’t tend to happen where every single light is on.» Johanna adds.

«I thought attacks could happen everywhere,» James teases.

Effie presses a kiss at his temple. «Just rest sweetheart. Que sera sera, that’s how the song goes.» After thinking for a moment, she adds «That movie was quite lovely. Me and a couple friends sneaked out of Hogwarts to go see it, but Larissa Sinclair got so scared that night, her roommate tatted on us.»

Remus knows, in principle, that not all the people who are in touch with their Moroi parents get to listen to stories about when they watched a new Hitchcock in theatres, but it doesn’t mean moments like this don’t break their heart.

[goldilockswrites]

Hey this is what I commented about! Could you maybe write a fluffy story where All of måneskin come to your home town for the first time and you go on a walk with them all and take them into a forest as they all say things like “girl do you know where we are” and a really confused boyfriend (Thomas) , it’s ok if not but if you can then thanks 💗🌹🌷

The Part Of Me I’ll Always Need - Thomas Raggi

╔═════ ∘◦ ☆ ◦∘ ══════╗

Pairing: Thomas Raggi x Reader (she/her) + Guest Appearances from Ethan Torchio, Damiano David and Victoria De Angelis

Requested: Yes

Summary: Y/N’s boyfriend decides to surprise her, by bringing his bandmates to her hometown. The girl suggests they take a walk through the forest and have a picnic. As it turns out after a good hour of wandering it seems they can’t find the spot. Just as they begin doubting Y/N’s knowledge of the trees surrounding here house they find out she’s been planning a surprise all along.

Warnings:  Fluff (Is that even a warning?); Proofread, but there is a chance there are mistakes, since I typed this out at 2 A.M. 

A/N: Hey! Here is another Thommy story, brought to you by Monster and moi (I’m not actually sponsored, by Monster, but at this point with how many cans I’ve had I think it’s time they do.)  I hope you enjoy! :) Love, Axe <3

Tags:  @writingmaneskin @myfavguitarboythomasraggi @moonlight-simp @cuzimitaliano @l0standn0tf0und-fics @selenophiliaxx @wasteddoubts @mywritingonlyfans @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @que--sera--sera @iosonoarina @theimpossiblehologramtree @sunflowerpumpkinpie @maneslut (if you’d like to be removed from the tags feel free to tell me :) )

© 2021-2022 @idyllicbutterfly on Tumblr All Rights Reserved

Add yourself to my taglist - Check out my other stories

╚═════ ∘◦ ❉ ◦∘ ══════╝

The sunlight mustered a magnificent mosaic - gold reflecting from each leaf and branch. Each ray fell gently on bumpy surfaces, as if it was happy to be a part of this mural. Y/N sat in bed - an almost empty cup of coffee on her nightstand, an open laptop on her lap. Manuscripts upon manuscripts. Dull, borning, pretentious. She couldn’t help rolling her eyes; life was ugly, emotions weren’t always beautiful and gracious. There was darkness in the light; and there was light in the darkness, always. However these concepts seemed to be left out of most of these future best-selling authors’ works.

Three knocks distracted her from her work. Y/N put her slippers on walking over to the door. The cabinet in the small halfway was a mess - bottles of hairspray, make-up, jewellery, nail polish, sunglasses. She grabbed the colourful bunch - more keychains than keys hung on the silver ring. One of the eiffel tower, for when she was away, which seemed pretty pointless now that she was home and could see it every time she got out on her balcony for a smoke; one of the colosseum - it reminded her of Rome, the summer she met her boyfriend, the apartment they bought together; the third one was a metal sunflower, the fourth - a red paperclip. She swiftly twisted the key, unlocking the door.

“Buongiorno, mademoiselle." A huge bunch of the yellow flowers was clutched in a man’s hand, a backpack resting by his side. Thomas. “Sun! What are you doing here?” The girl left the bouquet on the ground, throwing her arms around the man. “Well, we happened to be passing by and I decided to come visit, my love.” Y/N glowed as the guitarist kissed her lips. She took a second to observe him.

His gorgeous green eyes fogged with exhaustion; his freckles - now lighter; hair slightly shorter. A wide shirt hung around his frame, most of the buttons left unbuttoned revealing his chest and leaving his tattoos on display.

“Anyway, enough about me. How have you been?” Thomas’ irises sparkling with excitement as they walked to her bedroom. “Well, Mr. International superstar, my life is far less entertaining than yours. All I’ve done the past few months was argue with book agents and try my best to make pretentious fucks, sound more like human beings and less than robots trying to figure out how the human world functions.” Y/N’s gaze wandered around the room landing upon a paint-coated canvas, wrapped in sparkly paper with a tulle bow in the middle. “Oh, I was also invited to this very cool exhibition and might have spoken to the artist about you… And we may or may not have made you a little… Well… Gift.” The girl grabbed the edge of the frame, sliding it to the boy. “Open it.”

His long fingers worked on ripping the paper, a slight shake to his hands. Soon it was all gone, the present revealed - a painting of Y/N and him. He immediately recognised the photo it was inspired by, a polaroid they had taken before tour - Thomas was on his knees on the messy sheets; his girlfriend positioned between his legs, champagne-coloured lingerie adorning her body; his lips were sunk into her shoulder. The room behind them - chaotic; an almost empty bottle of wine and an abundance of clothes thrown around.

“Do you like it?” Y/N placed her head on his back. “I fucking love it.” The sound of a doorbell going off interrupted them, just as their lips were about to touch. “Ugh…” The girl rolled her eyes, as she got to the door. Her own surprise awaited her on her doorstep - the rest of her friends stood in front of her. “Guys! What are you doing here?” She yelled excitedly, throwing her arms around Ethan’s neck. “Hey, kiddo.” He smiled at her. “How have you been?” “Pretty good, grandpa.” Y/N/N giggled. “What about you?” “Tired, but happy.” The drummer nodded. “So, we didn’t interrupt you and the cowboy, did we?” Damiano inspected the make-up that laid on the counter in the room.

“I told someone we should wait…” Victoria pointed towards the singer. “But he didn’t listen.” “No, no, problem at all. We were just talking.” The girl nodded. “Hey, Cobra!” The vocalist patted Thom’s back. “What did you and mademoiselle over here do, huh? You know I am too young to become an uncle, yes?” “Chill, Y/N was kind enough to give me a gift.” “So did you give her the souvenirs or not?” The bassist pushed the boy.

She always thought of the blond as her younger brother, so when he asked for help to buy gifts for his girlfriend, she couldn’t help, but wander into all the shops that seemed to have things that would fit the taste of the editor. In the end, the trinkets of all their destinations were stored in a beautiful velvet bag; the items inside varied from rings, bracelets and charms, to CDs and books.

“Not yet.” The boy smiled sheepishly, before he reached into his bag taking out the purple pouch. “Here you go, love.” Y/N smiled widely, almost tearing up. “Thank you so much, sun! You are so thoughtful!” She kissed his cheek. Her fingertips pulled the ribbons apart, opening the bag. Inside she first spotted an abundance of rings: butterflies, flowers, bees, lions; five CDs - all limited edition albums of her favourite musicians; and a compilation of Charles Bukowski’s poetry. “Flower…” Y/N/N teared up. “This is seriously one of the kindest things ever!” The girl threw her arms around the boy one more time. Damiano cleared his throat behind them. “I’d hate to ruin your romantic moment over there, but if you wouldn’t mind, Thomas, we would all want to speed some time with lil’.” “I am taller than you.” Y/N snickered.

“Of course, of course. Now where should we go?” “Would you guys like to have a picnic? I can get some pastries and coffee from the bakery downstairs and we can take a walk through the forest.” “That sounds like a genius idea.” Vic giggled. “How about we go get them and the boys get the luggage inside.” Y/N/N pretended to think for a minute, before laughing at the request and nodding in agreement.

“Jasmine” seemed small and dark - quite the uninviting view, from anyone unaware of the peace and charm the bakery actually had. No more than 1500 square feet; a chequered floor, teal walls and glass fridges filled with all sorts of sweets - cakes, cookies, muffins and macaroons. “Salut!” Maya lifted her gaze from the display. Her grey-ish hair concealed in a net; skin flecked with sunspots. “Salut, Maya! Ça va?” The girl answered cheerfully. "Ça va, et toi?” The elderly woman answered. “Tres bien. Merci!” Y/N’s gaze slipped from pastry to pastry, discussing what she should get with the bassist. In the end they settled on what to order, asking for it to be placed in a brown paper bag.

Outside the weather was even more sunny than before. The boys stood by the little building smoking cigarettes stuck deep in a conversation about some song. “Hey, boys! We got the food, do you want to get going?” Y/N asked, raising the bag in her left hand. “Of course.” Thomas jogged forward, grabbing the pouch from her and clutching her hand, sealing their lips, before letting her drag him in the direction she had in mind, the rest of the band following. It didn’t take long before they were wandering into a forest-like territory, which was in reality a park, steering off sandy and stone paths and walking through the grass.

Insects flew around them, small lizards making leaves and branches crunch under their bodies.

“Y/N/N, I am not saying I doubt your orientation abilities, but are you sure we are headed the right way?” Ethan was the first one to ask, feeling creeped out by the view of trees behind, in front and to the sides. “I am absolutely sure,we are headed the correct way. We are almost there.”

As if on cue a patch of bare ground appeared on the horizon. “Here we go!” Y/N gestured to the spot, ducks swimming around in the lake, flowers growing close to the water. The girl grabbed the guitarist by the hand, dragging him to the stone-covered ground. “Okay, there’s actually a very important reason I got you guys here exactly.” The girl took out a small box from her back pocket. “Thommy, you make me the happiest woman alive. I’ve never known happiness this strong, before I was with you. I love you and you are the part of me I’ll always need. Will you marry me?” The blond stared at her in disbelief, gaze darting from her face over to the silver band. Still speechless he took his necklace off, opening the pendant that hung on the thin chain - a flat ring inside; the band glimmered, seven small stones set on it.

“I- Y/N, I never want to let you go either.” The boy smiled, as tears filled both of their eyes. “Yes.” He said. “I will marry you.” The woman nodded, placing the ring on his finger with a shaky hand. Extending her own for him to place the ring atop hers. “Okay, can we finally eat?” Damiano giggled excitedly, clapping his hands together.

[theheraldsrest]

“Inquisitor bringing back a dragon egg and claiming it as their own child”

Yeeeaaahh It’s been a bit since we’ve made any posts. Our schedules have cleared up a bit and we should be able to post more, and this time on an actual schedule. I’ll be posting on Mondays-Tuesdays and Cabot will be posting on Wednesdays. Here you go, our first ask back!

-Lord Lex

Cullen

-”No no no NO! Absolutely not! We are not going to be raising a DRAGON in Skyhold! A dragon destroyed Haven, and that one wasn’t even on our side! How in the name of the Maker are you going to train that thing?! This is absolutely ridiculous, what are you thinking?! How-”

-You have to survive his rant first but, to be fair, he has good reason to worry

-If you keep it, he doesn’t argue with your decision, but you have noticed that Skyhold is being more fortified, people are being the taught on how to “take care” of a dragon, while others are being taught how to actually take care of a dragon

-Cullen sees this turning out two ways: One, this could actually be a great benefit to the Inquisition or Two, the Inquisitor has finally gone insane and this is just the Maker’s way of punishing Cullen for existing

Josephine

-”Haha, very clever joke, Inquisitor! You actually had me there for a moment! Hahaha...ha...he...you’re not joking, are you? Oh Maker…”

-Takes a lot of convincing to get her to actually allow you to keep it. Is even a little proud that you made a list of pros and cons

-Tries to even change your mind with other “pet” ideas. Just do what Leliana’s done and get pet nugs. They’re vicious enough if you train them. Or mabari, mabari are good pets, love cuddles. Or how about-?

-Is ever so slightly curious about how this will turn out though, even hires people who are dragon experts to help make sure it’s safe and well taken care of

Leliana

-”A dragon? That...actually could be very resourceful.”

-Unlike her co-workers, she finds this to be a rather interesting and fun idea that could really help the inquisition

-Does pass along notes about its growth to researchers and caregivers. Kinda wants to help in the process of raising and training it. How different can it be from nugs?

-Very. Very different. Nugs don’t breathe fire, for one.

Vivienne

-”Put it back, dear. We don’t need to add on another dangerous creature with horrible, destructive capabilities to our little group. We already have Cassandra.”

-It’s like a very tired mother telling their child to put back the puppy. The fire breathing, 200 ton puppy.

-Keeps talking about your image, trying to raise such a thing after the several encounters you’ve had with dragons ended with you almost dead

-Actually, no, go right ahead. She’d love to see what’d happen. Don’t worry, you’ll do fiiiine.

Varric

-*Currently having Vietnam flashbacks* “Please no.”

-He’s kinda split. On one hand, he doesn’t want to deal with this. On the other, imagine the stories he could write

-He thinks he needs to stop telling dragon jokes because the first time he said he had expected Corypheus to pull a dragon out of his ass and he did. Made the same joke about the Inquisitor…

-Comes to like the idea when he sees the Inquisitor treating it like a mabari. Who’s a good, man-eating, electricity-breathing dragon? Yes it’s you!

Cole

-”Your child? But...it’s a dragon? How do you make it your child? It’s rather big. Warm and happy, it doesn’t know about the outside yet or what’s waiting for it...I think you’d make a great mother dragon.”

-He’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit. (Get it? No? Ok, I’ll see myself out) He has no problems with this

-It actually helps a lot that Cole can tell you if he's upset or not happy. Gives you an idea of the mood swings it has

-Cole is confused on why you keep calling it ‘one’ of your children. Who are the rest? Varric puts emphasis on Kid when he’s talking to Cole.

Solas

-*Solas Disapproves*

-What could go wrong? He has a list. What if it doesn’t listen? What if it’s uncontrollable? How do you expect to raise it? What are you even going to feed it? People? Your enemies? Where are you going to keep it? What if it causes more damage than the one Corypheus had? What if-?

-If he can’t convince you to put it back, he does try to help you with it. Hell, (if your inquisitor drank from the Well) you were able to control the ancient dragon, this one shouldn’t be much harder

-He gives it pet names, favors calling it names associated to the type it is. For example, a fire one would be nicknamed Little Burner or Little Light, a cold one would be Frost or Snowflake.

Cassandra

-*Cassandra Greatly Disapproves*

-Makes you put it back, she doesn’t even want to hear the ridiculous reasoning for why you want it as a ‘child’. You already have destructive children and their names are Varric, Sera, Bull, and Cole.

-There is absolutely no way in whatever realms that exist is she going to allow this to happen, the absolute absurdity of the whole idea is- Somehow you got it to Skyhold and it’s name is now Fluffy.

-Maker, give her strength to put up with you. She might see you as a great leader, but sometimes you can make some really stupid decisions.

The Iron Bull

-”This is one of the most dangerous ideas I’ve ever heard. Can I help raise it?”

-You don’t even have to ask, he’s helping to carry the egg, talking about different ways it could be used whether for battle or for intimidation

-He’s dedicating his time to this creature and has actually done some reading up on how to properly care for it

-If you’re not careful, it starts to think Bull’s it’s mother, following him around and chirping. The Chargers have taken to calling him Mama Bull. 

Dorian

-”That’s a brilliant idea, Inquisitor! And after that, we’ll go raise Corypheus from the dead and ask him to join us for afternoon tea! Oh, why not invite my mother as well! Why not just summon Andraste herself?!”

-Safe to say, he thinks this is one of your worst ideas. But he’s not gonna stop you. What? It’s gonna be funny watching you try and raise this creature

-Said he wanted nothing to do with it, but still comes around to make sure you haven’t killed it. And that it’s properly being covered. And that you’re not breaking it.

-He adores it, though, once it’s born. Won’t admit it, but the baby talk gives it away

Sera

-”This. Is going to be. The BEST joke. Ever!”

-Keep Sera away from it, she’s almost broke it several times, either by trying to carry it or rapping her knuckles against it

-It’s like a little kid waiting for their baby sibling to be born: she’s drawn pictures of it eating people and taking a shit on nobles, she keeps talking about what all they can do with a dragon on their side including blowing stuff up

-Has nicknamed it PeeWee. No reason whatsoever.

Blackwall

-*very deep sigh* “Please, please say you’re joking.”

-You’re not joking? Andraste, he’s too old for this. It’s like the Inquisitor is trying to give him a heart attack wherever he goes

-He doesn’t really give his opinion but you do see him give the egg a weary look every once in awhile

-Comes to actually enjoy the little thing, feeding it bits of food because ‘it gave me the look’ or petting it and telling it that it’s very handsome/beautiful

[ofwraithsandwords]

What kind of clothes do you think the Hellsing cast would wear aside from the uniforms/suits/robes they're usually seen in?

THOUGH HELLSING IS KHOUTA HIRANO'S ANSWER FOR WHAT HAPPENED AFTER THE EVENTS OF BRAM STOKER'S DRACULA, THERE IS QUITE A LOT OF DISCREPANCY BETWEEN THE TWO. Even though Hellsing is an intrinsically gothic manga/anima, it also has many campy and Quentin Tarantino-esque elements.

To make things easier for me, I'll mostly be talking about what they might wear after the events that took place during the Battle of London.

ALUCARD.

Hellsing’s version of Dracula has him dressed up in a bright red trench coat and a big, floppy hat, something you’re more likely to see on Al Picino. Beyond having something that mostly covers his form and/or makes him look like he broke out of a BDSM dungeon, I doubt Alucard pays much mind to what he wears at this point, especially since he inhabits a basement most of the time. Though on the rare occasion where the old man has to actually Do Something, then he could be persuaded to wear a two-piece suit with a tie that heavily suggests he’s involved in occultism. On a more serious note: something like a black overcoat with gilded buttons, a red satin vest with a crimson paisley pattern and a tie to match, and a pair of deep wine red Oxfords—quintessentially gothic. This is only for his base form as Alucard, however. As a 500+ year old genderless vampiric entity, the “man” can wear whatever he wants. (I mean that literally, he can just change his outfit at will.)

INTEGRA.

The Princely Sir Integra. Because I get the heavy implication that she prefers to wear more masculine clothing, I would think that Integra almost always wears suits, blazers, simple button-up blouses, etc. I have seen fan art of her wearing dresses and the like, and I have to personally say: hard pass. I love femininity, especially when it’s expressed as something that can and should be celebrated, but for Integra? Not every woman defines “femininity” or even wants to embrace it in the same way others have. Integra leans more on the masculine spectrum in how she dresses herself, something she more than likely got from her father and the other men of the Round Table. And while she may feel obligated to present herself in a more masculine light by the way she dresses herself, that is her choice. I do think she may wear formal hats or even hair ornaments on more formal occasions if the situation calls for it. She’d look really good in a pale green-blue suit, slim-cut trousers, and dark brown dress shoes with her silver blonde hair up in a knot bun. Maybe add a Juda stick in there too.

SERAS.

Seras is the only normal person in this whole show, so it makes sense that she would wear something, well, normal. We saw her and Pip carrying what looking to be McDonald’s in a pink hoodie to block out the sunlight. And we also all know that Seras definitely did not pick out her Hellsing uniform (I’m looking at you, Integra). I do think that Seras has a bit more of a tomboyish style (yes, you can wear pink and still be a tomboy). Though as the years go on, her style will have changed over time. I think by the time Alucard comes back from his Cat Nap, she’s discovered that she loves to experiment and imagine all the different outfits she could create. At least, she likes it in theory. In practice, she has yet to ask if she can get a uniform without a mini pencil skirt. 

PIP.

Look, this man just dresses himself like a typical straight dude, I’m not sure what to tell you. Plus, he floats around as a formless phantom that guards the Hellsing manor most of the time now, so...maybe the mansion should get another coat of paint? Jury’s out on that one, chief.

(DIS)HONORABLE MENTION: WALTER.

Technically he’s wearing rubble right now. But in all honesty, his style is somewhat similar to Alucard’s, he just left the tomato soup-colored duster and wide-brim fedora behind. Maybe if he wanted to complete a look completely opposite to Alucard’s, he could've gone with a Yankee with no brim.

[fanfic-cave]

Corellian Ale

Rating: SFW/PG-13

Word Count: 2.2k

Pairing: Hunter x Fem Jedi!OC

Warnings: Drinking and getting drunk, swearing, I think thats all? Also romance but when is that ever not in my fics hahaha

Summary: Our ex-jedi veteran Sera finished a mission with the bad batch, and now looks for a way to entertain herself and get someones attention while on the flightpath back home (also this is pre "The Reveal")

Authors note: After this weeks episode I wanted to write some fun stuff with the whole group, and a drinking contest sounded perfect ahaha! Also theres fluff nobody can stop me. ALSO ALSO I decided to switch to third person for the rest of my OC chapters so sorry for the sporadic chapters and writing, thanks and have fun!

tags: @mangoberry99

“Let’s never go back to Corellia.” Sera huffed out.

“Agreed. That was too close a call.” Tech spoke from the pilot chair, the Havoc Marauder just now entering hyperspace.

“We’ve got what we came for, let’s just head back.” Hunter sighed. He was sitting by a console looking at a map of a star system.

“Corellian ale.” Crosshair spat, shaking his head. “One of the worst missions we’ve ever done.” The cargo was stored all over the ship. Someone who wanted to avoid going through the empire to acquire some had hired the boys to lift the ale from a contact they had in Corellia, and from what Sera heard, the buyer had some deep pockets.

“Why would someone want this so badly?” Omega chimed in curiously. Hunter looked at Echo who shrugged, Tech sighed, and Sera held in a laugh. Crosshair shook his head. “Good luck with that.” Crosshair spoke, and he left to be somewhere more private, walking past Wrecker who was entering the public area.

“Well, Omega-” Hunter started, but was interrupted.

“How much longer till we get there?” Wrecker complained loudly, shoving himself into a chair across from Sera.

“We only just went into hyperspace, Wrecker.” Tech spoke and sounded a bit annoyed. “We’ll be back eventually.”

“This is always the boring part!” Wrecker threw his arms up, exasperated. Sera let out a quiet laugh. Wrecker reminded her of a kid sometimes, with his lack of patience and affinity to, well, wrecking things. One of the few things that reminded her otherwise was that he was huge, and could probably throw her across the room if he wanted to.

A thought crossed her head, and a smile spread onto Sera’s lips, a glint lighting up her eyes. Echo had noticed and eyed Sera.

“I’ve got an idea, Wrecker.” Sera stood up, hands behind her back, and walked around a bit aimlessly for a moment.

“Huh?” Wrecker looked puzzled, but curiously watched Sera.

“What are you doing?” Echo asked suspiciously, arms crossed. Sera caught that Hunter had been peeking at her out of the corner of his eye. He quickly looked back to the star map. Sera felt herself scowl at the lack of attention she received from him.

“You know, I remember,” Sera suddenly turned around, and swiftly grabbed a bottle of Corellian ale. “That some of the bottles broke while we made our escape.” She easily twisted the top off.

“Oh no-“ Echo said. “We’re not doing that.”

Sera smiled mischievously and took a swig. “Sera!” Echo tried to reach and stop her, but it was too late. The warm liquid settled into her stomach, and she sighed. She handed the bottle to Wrecker. “Oh yeah! This should be fun!” Wrecker took a long drink.

Sera heard Tech sigh loudly from the pilot's chair, clearly wanting his opinion to be known. “Well, now you’ve done it.” He spoke loudly from the other room. “If he breaks my ship, you’re fixing it Sera.”

“Your ship?” Hunter chimed in finally, raising an eyebrow in Tech's direction. Otherwise he had been completely ignoring the conversation taking place.

“You and I both know you don’t want me trying to fix the ship tech.” Sera shouted loudly to the other room.

“Then you’re paying for it!” Tech countered. Sera laughed at that.

“Could I try it?” Sera heard Omegas' small voice and her eyes widened.

“No.” Echo and Hunter spoke at the same time.

“Shit-” Sera spoke at the same time as the other two, then covered her mouth and coughed.

“Sorry kid, adults only.” Sera addressed Omega more seriously.

“Aww” Omega sighed and leaned back into her chair.

Wrecker handed the bottle back to Sera and burped loudly. “Anyone else?” She shook the bottle, looking at Echo, then Hunter, who was still ignoring her.

Sera felt herself get more irritated. Whatever, she turned back to Echo.

“Not happening.” He spoke firmly, and also placed a brief pause between the two words for emphasis. Sera sighed and took another sip. She felt like she was beginning to weigh less with each drink she took, her mind wandering more too.

“I would offer you some Tech, but-“

“Alcohol consumption is well known to inhibit your cognitive functions, and make you susceptible to poor decision making. For starters, I am piloting, and secondly I would prefer to keep my wits about me, thirdly-”

“We get it!” Sera shouted out, interrupting Tech.

“Think you can out drink me Wrecker?” Sera turned and eyed Wrecker challengingly, raising an eyebrow and tilting her chin up to add more effect.

“Of course I can!” Wrecker pounded his chest, laughing heartily. Sera ignored the loud collection of sighs. She thought she heard Hunter mutter something under his breath, but she ignored it.

“Let’s put it to the test then.” She grabbed another 2 bottles and placed them in the middle of the table. “We each drink a full mouthful. Games over when someone can’t continue.” Sera laid out the ground rules.

“Deal!” Wrecker pounded his fists on the table, the drinks jumping up along with the shaking. “Let’s do it!”

“Would you all be quiet?” Crosshair walked out, clearly more annoyed than usual.

“You might not want to miss this Crosshair.” Echo said, somewhat sarcastically.

“What does the winner get?” Sera ignored the other conversation and spoke to Wrecker, trying to raise the stakes.

“Uh,” Wrecker scratched his head, trying to think of something.

Sera’s eyes flickered to the oversized knife on Wreckers belt. “If I win, I get to take your knife.” Sera pointed. Wrecker gasped shockingly. “Not my knife!”

“Just don’t lose.” Sera flashed Wrecker a grin, showing off her teeth.

“Well when I win, you have to buy me an explosive!” Wrecker grinned back and leaned back into his chair.

“Sure, if you win.” Sera countered.

“You seriously think you can beat him?” Crosshair said casually, not looking at Sera and examining a new toothpick.

“Watch me you little fu-“ Sera stopped herself and looked at Omega.

“Firaxan.” Sera finished, and coughed awkwardly. “Omega, maybe Tech needs some help up in the cockpit.” Sera gestured over to the direction of Tech. Omega peeked over to the pilots seat curiously, where Tech sat.

“Not really-” Tech started.

“Oh he would REALLY LIKE the COMPANY!” Sera yelled over him. Hunter had nodded his head to Omega, which caught Sera’s interest. Now he‘s interested in what’s happening? She complained internally.

“Alright then, good luck Sera! Oh, and you too Wrecker!” Omega added it after Wrecker had made a face at her wishing Sera luck. She trotted off to the pilots area happily, and Sera heard Tech sigh. She knew he actually would enjoy the company though.

“Alright, start us off Wrecker.” Sera smiled and handed the bottle over to Wrecker.

One and a half bottles later and Sera found herself being a bit more giggly than normal. She and Wrecker were both holding their own, and sides had been drawn. Echo had been supporting Sera, while Crosshair clearly wanted Wrecker to win. Even Hunter had begun to watch too. Sera had failed to notice that.

“It’s *hic* you’re turn, Wrecker!” Sera then laughed. “Keep it together Sera,” Echo counseled her carefully.

“Oh like that lightweight can outdrink him?” Crosshair spoke and gestured to Wrecker. Wrecker laughed at the both of them and took another drink “Ah, tastes so good! I’m almost not thirsty anymore!” Wrecker leaned back into the chair and brought his arms up, and kicked his feet up on the table. He waved his arms around a second to catch his balance.

“A-ha!” Sera slammed her hands on the table. Everyone looked at her, surprised at her outburst. “You wobbled! I win!” She jumped up, then had to lean onto the wall to keep her balance.

“No, I’m fine!” Wrecker complained. He stood up and wobbled a bit again, but held himself up fine compared to Sera.

“Gimme this I’m celebrating-” Sera grabbed the bottle and began downing the contents. Crosshair just snickered and Echo snatched the bottle away after Sera got two gulps in. “No way, you’re both done.”

“Boo!” Sera yelled, and Wrecker joined the booing. Echo only shook his head and kept ahold of the bottle.

“I gotta, I’ve, hafto pee!” Sera then giggled more and stumbled down the hall, searching for the bathroom.

----------

“I’ve got it.” Hunter stood up to follow Sera and the boys watched him walk down, Echo looking surprised, Crosshair suspicious, and Wrecker didn’t notice as he was trying to grab at the Corellian ale Echo was holding onto.

Hunter found Sera stumbling down the hall. He quickly caught up to her and grabbed underneath her arm, keeping her from taking a nasty fall. “Steady there.” He spoke quietly. She turned to look behind her and then smiled. “Hunter! What are you doing?” She looked at him confused, and for some reason was whispering.

“Making sure you don’t get hurt. Which is usually your job for the rest of us.” We did bring her along as a medic after all. Hunter wrapped his arm around her back and put her arm around his back, trying to keep her from falling.

“Pfft I’ve outdrank gamorreans, I’ll be fine.” She waved a hand at him trying to downplay how drunk she was. Hunter was watching her carefully, and he had noticed she had a blush on her cheeks from the drinking. It was a soft pink that was hardly noticeable, but Hunter found himself examining it closely.

“Hmmm what?” Sera wiggled her eyebrows at him, clearly taking notice that Hunter was staring.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Hunter looked away and ignored her faces, and began dragging her down the hall.

“Oh, since when do you care, huh?” Sera hiccuped again when she finished.

“What are you trying to say?” Hunter wasn’t sure what he could’ve done to upset her. They continued walking together, just a few feet away from a cot. He turned to look at her, and found himself staring at her face again.

“Well you didn’t seem to care what I was doing earlier. You didn’t even say anything.” Sera grumbled it out, and Hunter was surprised at her complaint. She really thinks I don’t care?

Hunter had truthfully found Sera distracting. He had been listening to what she was saying and watching, but he also didn’t like how she grabbed at his attention so easily. He wanted to stay focused on the mission, and he didn’t want to let himself get too distracted by her. He didn’t watch her directly, or didn’t speak to her, but his thoughts would constantly drift to her. In the end, he watched the end of her little contest with Wrecker unfold, unable to keep his eyes away.

Hunter contemplated what to say to rectify the situation. “You’re my friend Sera. You’ve helped keep us alive. Of course I care.” He looked away for a brief moment after he spoke, trying to ignore how her breath smelled nice.

Hunter began steeling himself, getting ready to carry her the rest of the way. He heard her shuffle, and turned curiously, only to see Sera’s face just an inch from his. His eyes widened in shock to see her hazel eyes up close, the green in them looking striking, her blonde messy hair giving her a look of wildness. She moved in, and swiftly pecked him on the cheek.

Hunter touched his cheek, then looked back to her, his expression still shocked. Sera giggled again and Hunter's face began to turn red. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into an embrace.

“I care about you guys too.” Sera whispered into his ear. Hunter was frozen, unsure how to react for a second. He removed his hand from his cheek and put an arm around her awkwardly. He was new to physical affection, and had never really given anyone a hug. Only one time with Omega, but she was smaller, and it felt different than this.

Suddenly Sera’s head went limp on his shoulder, and her weight started to completely fall on Hunter. “Sera?” He stumbled, but easily held her up, and turned his head to look at her and see what was wrong. She was taking deep breaths, and Hunter recognized that she was asleep.

Hunter sighed and hoisted her up, carrying her bridal style the last few feet to the bed. He set her on the cot, being careful not to bump her into anything, and put the cheap blanket on top of her. She barely moved, except for her breathing, and seemed completely out of it. “So much for out-drinking gamorreans.” Hunter laughed to himself as he spoke the thought out loud.

He noticed she was laid flat on her back, and realized that could be dangerous with how drunk she got. Hunter placed one hand on her shoulder, and began to turn her onto her side. She felt warm underneath his hand, and her arm was smaller compared to his larger hand. He was watching her rose tinted face doze off peacefully as he shifted her. He indulged himself for a moment, and gently shifted a strand of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. He turned away and quickly left after that, flexing his fingers as he walked away.

Hunter scowled as he contemplated, feeling very confused by Sera’s actions and his own feelings. She’s probably going to forget this by tomorrow, he thought to himself.

Can't say I will though.

[uno-writing]

You mentioned that johnxisen is growing on you, lets water that plant. Can we get more moments of them? Speaking of water, stay hydrated berri! the worst thing to do on a bad day is make it even worse with a headache :(

Thanks for the love! Stay hydrated as well!!<3🍿🥤🍭🍬🍫🧋🥨🥬🍦🍧🧊🐇🍩🥖📦🌻🥀🥒

John chuckles at his phone, sending Isen a quick response before putting his phone away. Sera watches him and takes a sip of her drink.

“You and Isen have gotten close lately.” Sera muses and John glances at her briefly.

“Yeah. Why?”

“It’s just something I noticed. Isen’s a good guy.” Sera hums, watching in amusement as John nods. “You know…it’s okay if you two are more than friends.” Sera begins and John looks at her incredulously.

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to give me the ‘love is love’ talk. My dad’s got you beat by 5 years.” John scoffs and Sera raises an eyebrow at him.

“Then invite him to come hang out with us.” John’s head whips to look at her.

“What?”

“You’ve already been texting him his whole time anyways.” Sera shrugs and John shakes his head.

“I’ll wait to talk to him until later.” Sera looks at him quizzically, John’s phone vibrating with notifications in his pocket. John’s fingers itch to reply to Isen but he just shrugs and keeps walking. Sera rolls her eyes and pulls out her own phone, pressing call on Isen’s contact.

“Hey Isen.” John looks at her with wide eyes. “John and I are at the mall if you want to come hang with us.” Sera offers and John’s making wild motions for her to shut up and hang up the phone while she’s talking. “Sounds good.” Sera hangs up the phone and smirks lightly at John. “He’s on his way.”

“Why???” John whines and Sera scoffs at him. The two of them make their way to the entrance, waiting for Isen to show up. The entire time they’re waiting, John’s trying to convince Sera to tell Isen they changed their mind and they’re no longer at the mall.

“Why don’t you want him here?” Sera asks and John looks away, a flustered look on his face.

“You’re going to embarrass me on purpose. He thinks I’m cool.” John admits bashfully and Sera laughs.

“I guarantee he doesn’t think you’re cool. He knows you’re a massive loser.” Sera laughs and John pouts. “Don’t be a baby about it. He obviously likes you.” John’s face lights up a bit.

“Really?”

“He doesn’t shut up about you, idiot.” Sera rolls her eyes and John’s spirits are completely raised.

“Don’t tell him any stupid stories.” John adds and Sera glances at him with a blank look.

“Mmmm….no promises.”