#au: heaven is overrated
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not thy will, but mine
trigger warning: yandere, obsessive behavior
summary: godhood isn't as flashy as most make it out to be, your existence was truly not something you took much pride in. it seemes, however, that despite your line of thinking you'd gained yourself a very devoted follower.
pairing: fyodor x reader
notes: this was inspired by @spacexseven's god reader au! please go check it out they're really cool!!
in your honest opinion, being a god was overrated. at some point in the past, you would have disagreed. but millennia upon millennia have passed since you’ve thought that way. it was nice a long time ago. when there existed many gods each with their own domain, their own concept to be in charge of. back when gods had grand followings and were omnipotent. back when you were recognized as the god of literature, a symbol of creativity, thought, knowledge, and dissemination. but it’s been a very long time since then. most, if not all gods have died, and you have lost your recognition. you’ve lost power. that is, of course, not to say you have no power. you’re undoubtedly more formidable than any currently existing human. but it’s a negligible fraction of the omnipotence you once bore. you doubted anyone even knew your name at this point. you knew your place in this world. above the earth and below the fractured heavens. entirely alone, you’d lurk in your catchpenny apartment, isolated from any of the humans who once adored you. mount olympus has crumbled, there is no home– nowhere for you to return to.
you’d grown used to this treatment, having experienced nothing but it for thousands of years. which is why you were genuinely surprised when you came to the realization that someone was worshiping you. you could hear their prayers, you received their sacrifices. you’ve been acknowledged for the first time since the fall of the gods. it was just one. only one worshiper. you could note a few others becoming aware of your existence, but none going as far as to believe in your existence, let alone worship you. only a singular voice praying to you every night and morning. before every meal, and after every stroke of good luck. they were nothing but dedicated. it warmed your heart at first, to be appreciated once again. but after long enough, it grew to be disturbing. it seemed you were near every other thought on their mind. everything they did, in your name. everyone they hurt, in your name. prayers and prayers of promises that they would complete your desire, enact your will. you barely communicated with them, other than something small every once in a while with your limited abilities. meant to be nothing more than tokens of your appreciation to their care. but they still claimed to act as your hand, as a vessel for you. parading themself as a servant despite you never having asked anything of them.
it was honestly pathetic.
despite how it continuously became worse, you never expected this to end in you being summoned. you didn’t even know you could be summoned. called upon? invited? sure, you’ve been asked to manifest before, but you’ve never been summoned. you’ve never been forced to appear, much less forced to stay. it must have been an immeasurable amount of research and preparation, to confine a deity against their will. but it seemed he was dedicated. when you opened your eyes you found yourself in a throne room. priceless decorations adorning the room from corner to corner, yourself seated on the throne. and a man kneeling on the ground before you.
a tall and slim young man with long, dark, and messy hair that reached his shoulders. you couldn’t see his face as his head was bowed, but he wore what appeared to be a buttoned white shirt and white pants. he gripped a ushanka in his hand, trying his best to show his respect. you peered down at him, unsure of what to say. he tilted his head up slightly, peeking an eye open to look at you, purple and sharp. just as quickly as he’d stolen a glance, he was back to bowing at your feet. the action was timid and full of fear as the silence lingered.
“my lord… thank you for coming.” he whispered out after what had to be several minutes. he thanked you as though you had any choice in the matter. “my name is fyodor dostoevsky. i am your devoted servant.”
you opened your mouth to speak, before shutting it. you didn’t know what to say.
“i know, i'm not worthy of your grace. but, i have been diligent in my work. everything is going according to plan.”
after another moment fyodor looked up at you once again, his gaze lingering for longer this time. waiting a few seconds, you gave a tentative nod of acknowledgement. you didn’t have a clue as to what he was talking about. but it seemed this small display was more than enough to calm his nerves. he exhaled, loudly. body slumping down from it’s stiff position.
“thank you.” he whispered, barely audible.
in your opinion, being a god was overrated, you really weren’t all that special. but the way this man seemed to worship the very ground you walked on, it seemed your opinion wasn’t shared by all.
#yandere fyodor x reader#bsd x reader#yandere bsd#yandere bsd x reader#yandere bungo stray dogs#yandere bungo stray dogs x reader#god reader#fyodor dostoevsky x reader
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closet
ONESHOT
pairing: tomura shigaraki x fem reader
summary: “Just one party,” they said, “It’ll be fun.” Fun was what now had you standing in the dark, barely three feet of room between you and Tenko Shimura, the guy you hated most.
or Tenko and reader get roped into playing seven minutes in heaven and have hate sex.
notes: College AU. Just an old ao3 oneshot I wrote that I'm crossposting here.
chapter contains: explicit smut
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
You weren’t one for playing these types of games – locked in a closet with a boy you didn’t know or didn’t like, forced to awkwardly swap spit while the real party carried on beyond the closed-door. Seven Minutes in Heaven was an overrated game anyway. Stupid. Childish. Nobody actually played it.
Or so you thought.
The party was pretty big. Happened at the end of every semester. Some off-campus thing at one student or another’s house. Most students at the college knew about it since a few members of the recreation club went advertising at orientation, handing out flyers that listed parties and pub crawls throughout the semester, including this one.
You’d never been before, despite being in your second year. Parties, especially ones that left STDs and ODs in their wake, typically weren’t your thing. Sure, you liked to socialise and let loose every now and then, but the recreation club had a reputation, and you didn’t need to get mixed up in their shit when you had exams crammed down your throat.
And yet, it was the end of semester, exams were done, and your friends had talked you into it for the night. The house was alive with people, drinkings sloshing over red cups and clinking in bottles, music punding through the walls, dark lights washing everything in red. It was nice. Or at least, it had started out that way.
“Just one party,” your friends said, “It’ll be fun.”
Fun was what now had you standing in the dark, barely three feet of room between you and Tenko Shimura, the guy you hated most.
—
Tenko had no idea why he’d agreed to come to this stupid party.
Spinner, the idiot , had talked him into it. He’d claimed they needed to get out and meet more people.
“No offence Tenko,” he said on game last night, “but I figured I’d have more than one friend by the time I was in second year.”
Tenko scoffed. “As if I care. What, you think you’ll find friends at some idiot’s house party?"
Silence stretched between them over the headset, punctuated only by shots from enemy players, before Spinner said, “Your girlfriend’s going.”
It took him a minute to figure out who he was talking about before Tenko shouted down the mic, “She’s not my fucking girlfriend!”
Spinner’s laughter followed by friendly fire was how Tenko remembered that conversation ending, but at some point, he guessed he’d agreed to go to the party. It had started with him in a foul mood, hands tucked into the pockets of his black jeans, hoodie up and antisocial despite the clearly loose mood. But slowly, the ordeal improved. Spinner found them some drinks and they mostly ended up talking to some other comp sci majors and a few engineering students about games. He oddly found that he didn’t hate making friends, especially when his blood was burning with the kick of alcohol.
That was until he wound up in a big circle with a bunch of strangers. He could’ve just left. Got up and gone home. But the drinks made everything a bit blurred and just sitting down as the world spun around him felt too nice. Spinner was still with him, he was sure, saying something about girls, when Tenko noticed you sit down in the circle too.
Your friend dragged you down beside her and kept your arm looped through hers. You looked a little too sober – no flush to your cheeks, no messy hair. He hated that about you. Hated your uptight posture, your perfect grades, and too-good-for-him attitude.
He’d met you last year in a shared class – some core unit for all first years. You were paired together for an assignment and at first glance he knew he hated you. You, with your put together outfits and made-up face, always looking at him like his ragged clothes and ugly scars weren’t good enough. You, who constantly texted about the assignment, dragging him out of bed so you could complain about his ideas.
And Tenko knew you hated him too. Hated the way he spoke to you like you were nothing but a nagging bitch, hated how he could keep up with you when it came to academics. He was sure you hated him for tanking the assignment on purpose, just because he wanted to piss you off. Ever since that first semester, you’d shot him every dirty look, whispered every obscenity when he passed you, even once cutting the line in front of him at the college café, turning back with a self-satisfied smile.
He hated you.
So, when your narrowed eyes met his across the circle, he sat up a little straighter and shot you the most arrogant, bitter smirk he could muster. This was gonna be good.
“Okay!” A blonde girl at the center of the circle clapped her hands together and the talking died down. “The game is Seven Minutes in Heaven. I spin this bottle twice-” She held up an empty glass beer bottle, giving it a twirl as she placed it beneath her foot. “-and the two people it lands on go into that locked closet to do whatever they want.”
The circle erupted into a chorus of noise. Some drunken cheers, other groans. A few people got up and left and a few came to sit down.
“Kissing?” another girl asked.
“Or whatever.” The blonde grinned wickedly.
“Hurry up and start already,” said a guy with what looked to be burns and piercings.
“Like he’s getting any,” Tenko whispered to Spinner.
“Like we are,” Spinner said back. His cheeks were a little pink, and he looked like he’d just walked out of a washing machine, queasy and bracing the floor.
Tenko barked a laugh. “Shit, you’re actually nervous about this dumb game?”
“Aren’t you?”
He shrugged. “Not like it matters.”
The blonde girl bent over and spun the bottle. Round and round, it went. A dizzy glass pointer, ready to snatch good students and turn them into closet-fucked social pariahs.
It landed on you.
Tenko’s face lit up with genuine happiness. His grin was sharp, malicious. Your face paled, leaving you with a sickly look that he was sure meant you were regretting being sober right about now. It was too good. He couldn’t fucking believe it. A girl like you getting fucked in a closet, brought low to the level of those she looked down on.
He was too engrossed in his sick glee to even notice when the bottle spun again and landed squarely on him.
—
The circle erupted into a circus oooo’s and giggles all around as the guy you hated most was made the glass bottle’s second victim. Tenko didn’t even seem to realise until his friend – Spinner, you thought his name was – elbowed him in the ribs. His carmine eyes darted to the center, then, wide as bottomless pools, up to you. You swore his adams apple bobbed.
Everything from there moved too quickly. Your friend had to literally drag you from your seat. You weren’t sure who, or even if Tenko was dragged. But seconds later you were locked in together.
The closet was dark, night-black save the small yellow light seeping in through the bottom crack of the door. As your eyes adjusted, you realised it had been emptied of whatever it used to store and was now three-square feet of carpet and bare walls.
You were pressed against the door. Tenko leaned on the wall across from you, almost stiff with his hands shoved into his pockets. He refused to meet your gaze.
The still silence pulled taut between you, rife with months of hate and resentment.
“Why are you here?” you eventually asked.
Tenko stared at the floor, black hair falling into his face. “Why the hell do you care?”
“Because I didn’t take you for the friendly type.”
He raised a brow and took you in – short dress, pushed-up cleavage, exposed clavicle. “Ha, I didn’t take you for the slutty type.”
Your eyes became daggers, onces you wished to poke him with, though you doubted he could see them in this dark. He was so frustrating. Such a fucking asshole. And for no reason. You’d never done anything to him. Were always nice during your assignment. He was just a sour, bitter man.
“You’re such an asshole,” you breathed, turning around to jiggle the handle. “Fuck. Locked in.”
“Yeah, they said that.”
Deep breaths. You reeled around at him, stepping forward. “Then what do you suggest, hmm? That we just sit here?”
“It’s only seven minutes.” Tenko shrugged and you noticed the way his black hoodie barely moved. You swore it used to be baggier.
“Yeah, but-”
“What? Can’t keep your hands off me for seven minutes?” His face slipped into a sly grin, the jagged scar stretching over his lips.
You wanted to yank his lips off. You wanted to punch him.
You gave him a coy smile instead, folding your hands behind your back and leaning against the door again. “More concerned about how painful your blue balls will be by the time the seven minutes are up.”
“You wish." He sneered at you. That was the look you were used to. "As if I’d want to fuck you.”
“Aw, you’re nervous.”
“Fuck you!”
“So, you do wanna fuck me then?” You sighed condescendingly, unable to stop the built-up anger from spewing out. “I always knew it. A pathetic loser like you, that’s probably why you failed our assignment. Too caught up in virgin-daydreams about a girl actually touching you.”
Tenko’s jaw literally dropped. His fingers bunched into fists in his pockets, and he stared slack at you, pupils shrunk in the red of his iris. Finally, you’d made him speechless. And it felt fucking good.
Though not for long. He stepped forward, hands withdrawn from his pockets. There was no where to go but further against the door as he came right up into your face. Those angry red eyes bore into yours, nose an inch away as he stood over you. This close, you could count the lines of scars around his eyes. Your heart was beating out of your chest.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he finally said and there was a chuckle in his rocksalt-rasp voice that made your stomach drop. “I do want to fuck you. And since you keep talking about it, I'll give it to you.”
Tenko pressed his lips to yours in a mockery of a kiss.
Your back went flush against the door as his face bullied you against it. His lips cut a rough kiss, sharp with chapping. A broad hand found your sternum, holding you in place and you gasped. That was enough for him to push his tongue in too. It sent an unwelcome thrill up your spine, the wetness, the cloying taste and smell of drinks that clung to the walls of his mouth. Your teeth clinked together as he worked a brutal rhythm, licking into your mouth like he truly never had kissed a girl before, almost trying to swallow you whole.
You bit his tongue and a metallic taste quickly flooded everything. Tenko pulled back, dots of slick blood coating his lips. He looked like he might truly kill you. Then, he laughed.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You wiped the back of your hand over your mouth, spitting the blood onto the carpet.
“Me? You kept saying I wanted to fuck you.” He wiped his sleeve. “Just giving you want you want – to be right.”
“You’re fucking disgusting.”
“Yeah?” He tipped his head, gaze now alight with something you didn’t want to put a name to. “That why I felt you shiver? You fucking liked it.”
You pressed your lips together in silent fury. Your head was pounding. Your body was pounding. He... he...
“Oh my god, you fucking did.” He huffed out a laugh. “Who would have thought, this whole time-”
You shut him up with a hard shove to the chest. Tenko grunted as his back it the wall. “Shut up! I didn’t like it. You’re a terrible kisser.”
He rolled his eyes. “Like you could do better.”
“You don’t think I could?”
“I know you couldn’t.”
For a moment the two of you glared into each other's souls, bodies pulsing with hot anger. Your fingers tightened in the fabric of his hoodie. You smiled softly up at him. “Really?” you whispered as you inched closer. You hovered your soft lips above his. “You sure about that?”
“Yeah...” His breathing hitched.
You hummed low in your throat, and caught up in the moment, lost of all reason, pressed your lips to his. This time, the kiss was soft. His lashes fluttered shut, and you caught the low whine that escaped his throat when you worked his mouth open, tongue gently melding with his. Tenko’s hands tentatively found your hips, which surprised you. Everything about this surprised you, but the more you kissed him, the more you felt like you didn’t want to stop.
He gripped your hips a little tighter, drawing your body taut against his. Against your thigh, you felt his arousal, and it shocked you enough into drawing back, ready with an sarcastic retort. But Tenko seemed done with fighting. He flipped you around, baring down on you as he buried his face in the juncture of your neck, sucking marks into your skin.
You gasped and panted beneath him, Unsure of what to do. Unsure of what you wanted to do. And when he pressed a thigh between your legs, you stopped thinking. “Fuck .”
Tenko smirked against your skin. “Oh, you like that?”
He rolled his thigh again, and this time yours clenched around it on instinct.
“Stop that...”
“Why? You clearly like it.”
He did it again and again, steadily building a jerky rhythm that brushed your clothed clit each time. You rode against his thigh unconsciously as he laid kisses against the column of your throat. His hands clumsily found your breasts, groping with the eagerness of a man who’d never been this close to a woman before. He panted against your skin. “Fuck, these feel nice. Let me see.”
“What?” you managed to get out through your haze.
You looked down and wished you hadn’t. Tenko’s pupils were so wide that black engulfed all red. His cheeks were flushed in the dark, scars etched out in pale lines across his sharp-featured face. He looked sinfully good, and his filthy mouth made him even better.
“Let me see your pretty tits,” he said, pulling at the hem of your dress.
He got it down in one swipe, your breasts spilling out from the fabric. You wished you’d worn a bra.
His eyes shot down, followed by his mouth. He pressed the flat of his bloody tongue against a nipple, licking up to your collarbone like a truly desperate un-fucked man. His head bobbed back down and he sucked a nipple into his mouth, fingers latching onto the other hastily. Your head fell back so hard it hit the wall and left your whole body throbbing.
“Tenko, we shouldn’t...”
He groaned then, actually groaned with your tit in his mouth and pulled off with a pop, wet saliva hardening the nipple in the cold air. “Say my name again,” he said, both hands kneading your breasts as he kissed you hard. “Tell me you feel good. Say it.”
It hit you then, just how lust-clouded he was. How addicted he seemed to you not only liking this but liking that he was doing it. You hated him, and he hated you, and yet right now you wanted nothing more than to give him that satisfaction.
“I do like it.” You turned your face away, shame mingling with want. “I like it when you touch me.”
Tenko looked at you like you’d just given him the moon, pressing his face into your shoulder again as he caught his breath and kept on with your breasts. You canted your hips forward, seeking the friction of his hardness pressed against you and he gasped, grinding his cock against you in little ruts.
You decided that hating him could wait till tomorrow.
“Touch me, Tenko,” you whispered, taking his hand and guiding it between your legs.
He let you eagerly, pushing his long, spidery fingers beneath the fabric of your underwear and into the slickness of your folds.
“You’re wet,” he said, sliding his fingers through them, catching on your clit with every torturous stroke. “Fuck, you’re actually wet.”
He lowered himself to his knees, but you caught his sleeve, pulling him back up.
“No time. Let’s just...”
He didn’t need to be told twice. He stood up and crowded you against the wall as he scrambled to unbutton his pants. You fingers met his and you helped each down his jeans, the waistband of his boxers, until his cock bobbed free. It was strained with need, long and weeping at the tip as you pumped it gently for him. His shoulders caved and he shuddered at your touch, blushing with each squeeze and stroke of your hand.
"You're good at this," he said fucking into your hand and shutting his eyes, lost in the pleasure. "Feels so much better than-"
"Your own hand?" You ran your thumb over the slit and nipped his neck.
"Shut up."
"Make me."
"Oh, I fucking will." Tenko bared his teeth in a near-feral grin as he pushed your underwear aside. He slid his cock through the wetness of your cunt in a way that had you both sucking in breath. "Gonna break you."
You hiked a leg up and around his hip drawing him close. “Then fucking do it."
With that, Tenko pushed the head inside. He barreled over, the squeeze and tug you had on him left him looking dazed. He rested his forehead against yours, shaking as you clenched around his sensitive tip.
“You’re so fucking tight... shit...” Through gasps he pushed all the way in. It stung, the stretch of him bullying his way inside, and you bit your lip to keep from moaning. When he bottomed out, he stilled, and you could feel his cock twitching inside you. “Fuck you feel so good,” he panted. “So warm. So perfect.”
You tightened your leg around his hip, pressing your heel into the base of his spine. “Move.”
He pulled back slowly, watching the way you gripped him as he slid out. Truly, you'd never seen a man more pussy-drunk than this. The thought that you'd done this to him, a man you hated so much, had lightning-pride shooting through you. Tenko slowly pushed back in, deeper than the first time. He fucked himself into you, each rut of his hips dragging his pubic bone against your clit. Your back dug into the wall he pinned you to, but you didn’t even care. He was panting into your mouth, eyes lidded with want. He was yours, in this closet, willing to do whatever you asked.
“Have you ever... thought about doing this before?” you asked through his shallow thrusts.
Tenko grunted, the sudden smack of his hips giving him away more than his fucked-out smile. “Have you?”
You couldn’t help your own grin. “I asked first.”
“Yes." His tongue met yours in a sloppy kiss as his thrusts grew erratic. He wouldn’t last long. He groaned into your mouth. “Wanted to bend you over a desk and... hah... fuck the attitude out of you ages ago.”
You moaned, clenching tighter around him, and he pressed a hand across your mouth to keep you quiet. "Shh, don't want everyone knowing how bad you like this, do you?"
“Fuck you,” you spat, words muffled as he pressed his middle and index fingers into your mouth. You bit down on the fingers, tongue sucking around them as your teeth left indents in his pale skin.
Tenko huffed a laugh and his hips stuttered. His hand snaked between you, rubbing messily at your clit. He wasn’t precise at all, but the friction was enough. Your tits bounced as he pressed deeper into you, your body growing taut as you approached the edge. "I'm so close. Wanna come inside. You want that?"
You tried to shake you head, but every time he fucked deeper into you, your eyes rolled back and you couldn't protest. This all felt too good. The forbiddeness of fucking someone you hate, the possibility of someone walking in, the soft pap of his balls slapping against your ass as his legs quivered beneath him.
“You’re gonna come,” Tenko said. “Shit, I can feel it. Go on. Want to feel you come. Fucking do it.”
And you did. He swallowed up your cry with a harsh kiss as your body throbbed with pleasure. The orgasm crashed into you like a fucking train, and Tenko wasn’t far behind.
“Shit... Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Three deep thrusts and he was spilling himself into you with a whimper. His cum shot out in warm, thick ropes, coating your insides as his face fell into your shoulder.
He rested on you, in you, like that for what felt like a while, his release seeping out between you in trails down your thighs. Eventually he pulled out, tucking his soft cock away. You pulled your dress back into place, underwear catching the arousal leaking between your legs. Tenko, to your surprise, turned back to you, wiping the insides of your thighs with the inside of his hoodie sleeve. It was oddly sweet, if a little gross.
But when he pulled away, awkwardness clung to the both of you like a rain-soaked blanket. You both stood in the darkness catching your breaths. You'd crossed a line tonight that could never be uncrossed. You both hated each other. You’d both fucked each other in a dark closet. What now-
“Sorry guys!” The door swung open, and you froze up, turning to see the blonde from earlier in the doorway. “Should have let you out ten minutes ago, but the cops turned up, so party’s over.”
Ten minutes? Had it really been that long? Shit.
She left and you and Tenko were left alone. You awkwardly stepped out of the closet, blinking in the light. Your friends were gone, as were most people. It was probably best if you two just went your separate ways and pretended this never happened-
Tenko grabbed your hand and shoved the other in his pocket. “Let's go,” was all he said as he held your hand and led you from the house. "I'm taking you to my dorm tonight."
And though you could’ve argued, pushed him away, gone back to hating him and gone home, you let him.
#shigaraki tenko#shigaraki x reader#bnha shigaraki#shigaraki tomura#tomura shigaraki#bnha fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#bnha reader insert#bnha x reader#bnha#mha#ao3 fanfic#reader insert#shigaraki x y/n#shigaraki x you#nsft
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I want to ask what the Monkie Kid crew relationship with animals is? I know Sandy loves/is loved by cats, and there is a funny theory that I seen that Wukong is just an animal magnet. But what are your thoughts on this?
Wukong has Disney Princess-level animal magnetism. But especially towards Horses. Sun Wukong is barred from most derbies/tracks cus if he walks in, all the race horses will immediately trot over happily cus "The Bimawen is here!!" And he'll happily jump the fence to give every horse a petting. And yeah almost all wild animals (save apex predators) just feel happy around him.
("Havok in Heaven" 1961)
Macaque, despite his foreboding aura, often ends up swarmed by younger/baby animals. He pretends not to know why. It's cause he has shameless mom instincts. Even if he was considered an Outsider to the original Monkey demon troop, he was adored by the infants he cared for. Those said infants are now grown immortal monkeys who see him as their many-times great-grandmother. If Sun Wukong is the honorary "Grandfather/Yeye/Waigong Sun" (as said in JttW) to all monkey demons, then Macaque is "Grandmother/Nainai/Zumu Liu'er". A similar effect occurs in rabbits (decendants of the wild moon rabbits he knew when he lived with Chang'e).
Sandy ofc loves cats and has similar Disney Princess-energy towards wild animals as seen in "To Catch a Leaf". Also tarantulas - you know why.
Pigsy claims to hate animals, but he folds if a cat or dog even headbutts him. Makes a million excuses why he doesnt run off the alley cats the hang out outside the restaurant. ("They're good for pest control.", "Leftovers gotta go somewhere.", "Tang you're petting one right now." Etc).
Tang loves animals like cats, but its a 50/50 if they'll even indulge him. I hc that he's a little scared of dogs and large birds (cicada instincts), but will pet a friendly good boi if they make a good first impression. Thinks pet bugs are really neat and underrated (Pigsy has banned him from getting any).
MK loves dogs. He is pure dog loving energy. Will look at an immortal celestial warhound and ask "Who's a good boy?" and he'll most likely get a tail wagging. Also thinks turtles are mega cool.
Mei I hc wasn't allowed pets in the Long/Dragon household, so she can be over-enthusiastic when meeting new critters, and gets sad when they scurry off startled. Wukong has been teaching her some of his old Bimawen tactics though, since she really loves horses (literal horse girl energy) and was def the little girl who asked for a pony every birthday.
Red Son is def a lizard/bird parent. I love the hc that his fave animals are chickens, and could def see him having a loose hen in the palace (wearing hygenic birdy pants ofc). He also seems like he'd vibe with desert/hot climate reptiles who see him as a heat lamp. Towards cattle and big farm animals tho? His territorial bull instincts flare up and starts picking fights.
Nezha likes snakes. Don't look too deep into it. (They remind him of Ao Bing). Thinks cats and dogs are overrated.
Bai He. Cats cats cats! She loves them in all their forms. Big, small, fluffy, sphinx! Like Mei she can be over-enthusiastic, and often gets scratched/bitten by street animals she tries to befriend. Big cats seem to like her for some reason.
+Bonus au character: Chenxiang loves birds. Especially water birds. They remind him of his very early childhood when ducks, geese, and crane would follow him and his mother while lotus harvesting. Will not stand for goose slander. Will get swarmed by flocks of birds if left alone in a public park.
#lego monkie kid#lmk#lmk hcs#the monkey king and the infant#the monkey king and the infant au#gif warning#sun wukong#liu er mihou#six eared macaque#qi xiaotian#lmk sandy#lmk pigsy#lmk tang#long xiaojiao#lmk mei#lmk red son#lmk nezha#lmk bai he#lmk lbd's host#lmk liu chenxiang#liu chenxiang#liu chen xiang
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MiracOlympus AU- Time for a Break
Here’s my first official Myvan May short! Time for some MiracOlympus fluff! Ivan just works himself too damn hard! @imsparky2002 @artzychic27 (Also check the notes for a little bonus announcement!)
Reminders:
Mylene- Demeter
Ivan- Hephaestus
Kagami- Ares
Chloe- Helios
Sabrina- Hestia
Enjoy!
The steps leading down into the forge were long and winding, the light fading more and more the deeper Mylene went. Lifting up the hem of her goldenrod chiton so it wouldn’t be coated with the soot that now billowed around the floor, she pushed open the heavy steel door to the underground fortress and looked inside.
“Ivan?”, she callled, looking around the space for her beloved, but her voice was drowned out by the repetitive clash of metal against metal. Ah, he was still working. Three days straight at this point. As stubborn as a mule, that man of hers could be. She shook her head as she began to walk in the direction of the sound.
After a couple minutes of walking down torchlit corridors overflowing with metal contraptions and scraps, Mylene finally walked into the forge’s main workroom. Sure enough, there, pounding away at a sword he was repairing for Kagami with his large hammer, was Ivan.
The room was already more than a little stifling due to fire fueling the forge, but the goddess of the harvest still felt heat rising to her cheeks at the sight before her. Gods almighty…
‘No. Focus, Mylene!’, she quickly reminded herself. She had come down here to pull her boyfriend out of the forge for a much needed break. Never mind the fact that he always worked without sleeves because it was easier to move those big, burly arms, which were on full display as he pounded the sword back into perfect condition…the same as his broad chest was under the thin but durable fabric of his black work shirt…the way the firelight glinted off the one of his intense silvery eyes that wasn’t covered by the patch…and- No! Enough of those thoughts! She had a task to accomplish! With a heavy sigh, she finally spoke.
“It’s been three days, you know.”, causing Ivan to give a small start as he looked up at her, though this quickly gave way to the gentle, warm look of love that crossed his face whenever he looked her way.
With a grunt, he set down the hammer and rolled out his shoulder, which was likely stiff from the repeated motions, before he countered with, “I’ve worked for longer before. I’m fine, My.”
The curly-haired goddess crossed her arms and looked at her boyfriend with a firm frown. Sadly, she had expected that sort of response.
“Just because you have doesn’t mean you should, Ivan! God or not, you need to rest!”, Mylene argued back, approaching her boyfriend as her frown deepened, “For the Heaven’s sake, you need some sunlight!”
“Sunlight’s overrated.”, Ivan quipped back with a shrug as he returned to hammering the sword, clearly not about to give in any time soon.
“You want me to tell Chloe that you think so?”, Mylene posited, quirking an eyebrow at her bulky beau, who froze for a second or two as he thought of the last poor fool who dared to say such a thing in the presence of the sun goddess.
With a heavy sigh, Ivan’s wide shoulders heaved as he set down his hammer and turned to face his girlfriend once more.
“Just let me finish this sword up, and then I’ll be done.”, he acquiesced, though a glance around the room and at his expression would tell one that he wasn’t being truthful. Mylene gave him another stern look as she placed her hands on her hips.
“And once you finish it, you're going to find something ELSE you need to finish. And then something else after that. And after that.”, she challenged him. She knew her boyfriend better than that.
Sheepishly, Ivan looked down at the floor and rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding making eye contact with Mylene.
“It's just... it's hard to relax when I feel like there's still so much left to do.”, he said in a small voice, softening his girlfriend’s expression as she came over and took his hand.
“I know that, Ivan. But immortal or not, constantly pushing yourself to keep working isn't healthy.”, she told him gently, running a delicate finger over his calloused palm, “I worry about you, and so do the others. Don't think Sabrina didn't notice you skipped dinner the past few days.”
“…Was it really that obvious?”, Ivan asked with a light flush covering his cheeks, causing the freckles on them to stand out as he once again avoided her eyes.
“Yes, because we care about you.”, Mylene answered, cupping his cheek and turning his head to face her. Letting his eyes slide shut, Ivan leaned into her touch with a soft sound of contentment.
“Now, we have some time before dinner tonight, and l'd like to take a walk down on Earth.”, Mylene went on to say before she gave him an adorably coquettish and playful smile as she ran a small, silky hand over his huge bicep, “And I'd feel much safer with my big, strong teddy bear with me.”
A dusting of rosy pink covered Ivan’s cheeks once more as he allowed a small smile.
“You know I can't say no to that face. I guess a little time off wouldn’t hurt.”, he finally gave in, allowing Mylene to take his hand and pull him out of the darkness of the forge.
She always gets her way in the end! Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs!
ANNOUNCEMENT: I’ve decided to open up the Myvan Asks I talked about next week! Keep your eyes peeled for the announcement Monday!
#miraculous ladybug#Myvan may#Myvan#mylène haprèle#Ivan bruel#miracolympus#greek gods au#demeter#hephaestus#fluff
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Dreamling Week 2024, day 5
Thanks again to @mr-sadman for the prompts!
Prompt: Midsummer
Title: I'll Follow Thee and Make a Heaven of Hell
Summary: Hob would do anything to see Dream happy. Yes, even going to one of Shakespeare's plays. (1,254 words, no TW, also Human!AU)
Read on AO3:
Dream was practically vibrating out of his skin with excitement as he crossed the literature department to reach the history teachers offices. It sucked that Hob’s office was literally on the other side of campus from his. Or maybe it was a blessing, there probably wouldn’t be much work done if they were next to each other at all time.
But it meant that now the literature professor had to keep himself from running as he walked through the whole university to join his husband.
He barged in Hob’s office without knocking, causing the history professor to startle badly.
“Jesus Christ, Dream!” he exclaimed frightfully. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
“You will never believe what Lucienne just told me!” Dream exclaimed, doing his best to refrain from screaming. His jaws were starting to hurt from smiling.
Hob chuckled fondly, standing from his desk to kiss his lover.
“It must be really extraordinary, I haven’t seen you so happy since our wedding!” he teased.
“Don’t be stupid, it doesn’t even come close.” Dream rolled his eyes, still bouncing on his feet.
Hob hummed, pretending to think. “Did your sibling break their leg during their last fashion show?”
“Stop it, you make me look bad,” the literature professor chastised, laughing all the same. “No, it’s far better than that!”
“Now I’m really curious! What is it?”
“A Midsummer Night’s Dream will be performed at the Globe in two weeks-” Hob must have made a face because Dream hastily added: “and it’s staged by Kay Culverton Stranger himself!” Hob really tried to look excited, but he must have done a bad job at it considering that his husband’s enthusiasm deflated quickly. “I’m sure you would like it!” the literature professor pleaded. “Stranger has such a deep understanding of Shakespeare’s work, his stagings truly are the bests when it comes to Shakespeare, they always highlight the emotional and political depths of the plays in such amazing ways…”
“I’m sorry darling. You know what I think about Shakespeare…” Dream seemed about to cry, his eyes fixed on the ground. Hob gently tilted his head up, forcing his lover to look at him. “But I would gladly go with you anyway.”
“But you hate Shakespeare.”
“I don’t hate him; I think he is overrated and I don’t like his plays. But I knew what I was signing up for when I married a Shakespeare specialist.”
“I don’t want you to have a horrible time just for my sake,” Dream sulked.
“I won’t, I’ll be able to watch my amazing husband be excited about something he loves for a whole evening!” His lover still didn’t seem convinced so Hob changed his strategy “Let’s make a deal. We go see A Midsummer Night’s Dream in two weeks, and in exchange you let me drag you to the exhibit about the evolution of the guild system during the Renaissance that starts next month at the British Museum. What do you say?”
“It seems like a fair trade,” Dream admitted, a smile growing back on his face. “I accept your proposition.”
“Thank you, my Lord,” Hob declared with a mock curtsey, which earned him a playful swat and some delighted giggles. “Now, shall we go back to our mansion for the eventide?” he continued with the poshest accent he could muster.
“Our flat hardly count as a mansion, dearest,” Dream chuckled fondly. “But yes, we shall, if you are done with your work here.”
It was a nice day, and they decided to walk back to their flat. Dream genuinely tried not to talk Hob’s ears off, but he was far too excited about the play, and soon he was passionately info-dumping, hands flapping with enthusiasm. Hob didn’t mind. He basked in it; he remembered, when he had met Dream, how the literature teacher had been distant and silent, barely letting show any interest in anything. Now, after years together (and after going no-contact with Dream’s parents), he could talk for hours about his special interests, eager to share them with his husband. He still struggled around strangers, and he often appeared aloof and cold to those who didn’t know him well, but he made progresses one step after another, opening up a bit more every time, allowing himself to be. Hob delighted every day in being able to watch Dream free himself.
When they arrived to their home, Dream practically threw himself at their PC to book their tickets to the play. Hob watched worriedly as his excitement died down, his shoulders dropping as he let out a disappointed sigh.
“What’s wrong, love?”
“It’s already sold out,” Dream answered sadly. He turned the PC off and went to their room.
Hob heard him cry through the door, but he didn’t dare enter. He knew Dream didn’t like people seeing him cry. He cooked his favourite dish and prepared his favourite movie, hoping that it would cheer him up a bit, and waited.
When Dream finally got out of their room with puffy eyes and damp cheeks, he was grateful for hob’s efforts, but it was obvious he was still crestfallen.
The following days, he tried to act as if everything was fine, but Hob could see he was still upset. When even their colleagues started asking him is Dream was okay, the history professor decided to act. He took advantage of his office hours (which were really calm this time of the year) and made many phone-calls.
There was one week left before the play when he walked in Dream’s office with two tickets in his hand.
The literature professor barely refrained from screaming, springing from his chair and catching Hob in a bone-breaking embrace.
“How did you get them?” Dream asked, in awe.
Hob smiled, trying to keep his bouncing husband from hitting his desk. “The advantage of being overly friendly and changing career path more times than I can count in my twenties is that I know a lot of people. I made a few phone-calls, promised to help with a house move, got ourselves invited to quite a few get-togethers to reconnect with old friends (which you can obviously skip if you don’t want to come), and finally got my hand on two tickets, and we even have VIP seats.”
“You did all of that for a play you don’t even want to go to?” Dream asked, confusion momentarily eclipsing the euphoria.
“I did all of that so my beloved husband wouldn’t be upset anymore. And it was all worth it, considering how happy it makes you.”
Dream rode the happiness high the whole week, spooking their colleagues a few times with his uncharacteristically cheerful behaviour, to Hob’s great amusement. The day of the play, he was so excited he couldn’t stay still. When they got to the theatre, he was shaking so hard with anticipation Hob worried for a moment they wouldn’t be let in, but thankfully they were guided to their seats without a fuss. They were placed on a balcony, with a perfect view on the stage.
Dream kept squealing and bouncing with delight until the play started. When the first actor appeared on the stage, he suddenly became very still and silent, immediately captivated. Hob didn’t look at the stage once of the whole night; instead, he watched as Dream smiled, cried, and laughed, delighting in his husband’s joy. When the curtain fell and it was time to go home, he couldn’t remember a single word from the play.
They both had an amazing evening.
#dreamling week 2024#dreamling week#the sandman#dream of the endless#hob gadling#dreamling#writers on tumblr
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since exactly one (1) person asked about mj publicist au here it is shout-out to @abc2411 for helping to create it
basically peter is part of the avengers full-time after college and he is slowly growing out of his vigilante persona so he gets assigned his own publicist - enter michelle jones watson (who is burned out doing publicity for politicians in DC) who regretfully accepts the job because new york housing ain't cheap and thinks the avengers are overrated and daily annoyances at best (michelle very much has old man yelling at the sky vibes)
but she is good at spinning narratives, and social media and knows what the public wants so it's a match made in heaven but peter falls in love at first sight and since he wants to impress her .. so he follows her orders to the t except when she suggests that he should get into pr relationship with another superhero and peter is like no ❤️ and just tries to get with her
so here is where all the hijinks start from mj setting peter up for a trial date with her friend betty brant, she is perfect for a pr relationship an all american girl from a middle class background, respected by her peers as a no-nonsense journalist only for peter to set her up with ned and he is "oh no how sad but good for them" so they can hang out more and actually become friends since she scheduled a bunch of dates for that week anyways
so mj ends up asking peter what his type is so she can actually find him a pr relationship that could possibly evolve to something more so peter tells her that he is looking for a girl that tall, smart, kind, pretty, curly hair, brown eyes and mj who is amazing at her job gets him date with liz allen, a college friend of hers and they actually hit it off
only for mj to realize she might not actually like this development since she actually got feelings for the loser (truly embarrassing for her) so since her only signed a contract for a few months she decided to not to renew and tells pepper she is out like peter and spider-man's approval ratings are through the roof and they are gonna his relationship with liz at the upcoming stark gala like she finished her job
well let's just say peter never ended up at the gala and was busy confessing his love to his publicist
#spideychelle#petermj#i truly feel publicist mj can be so cool guys#michelle jones watson#michelle jones#peter parker
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Day 31: Choose Who Lives
Ok so I'm taking very liberal use of the word "lives" here, and focusing more on the choose part tbh, although ig both are there. But this is the final day of May! Thanks to everyone who joined me through this, and I hope you've had a good time!
This is the fic most likely to be out of character, tbh, and it takes place in my supernatural AU, When You Cannot Hide.
Thanks for reading, and as always, hope you enjoy!
You must choose.
It wasn’t as if they didn’t know, alright? Lucifer knew they had to choose, to decide who’s life they valued more. With Dean gone, it was just them and Sam left, and technically, it was just Sam, because Lucifer wasn’t doing much on the actual possession front!
Bu they were still somewhat tuned into the Heavenly network, a bonus from all those years trapped in Heaven, they presumed. Thanks, big brother, they thought ironically. And immediately regretted it. What if Michael did actually hear that thought, and found them through that? They couldn’t bear it.
Unlike most angels, who were fine with taking on the pronouns of their True vessel, Lucifer was finding that they disliked sharing their pronouns with Sam, as well as everything else they had to share anyways. ‘He’ was overrated, in their opinion.
And besides, Dean had struggled with differentiating between his brother and the angel inside said brother, when he was younger. It had been an easy way to distinguish, and then they’d never really given it up.
But they were never going to see Dean again, they realised. Not if they left. And they had to leave, to flee. They couldn’t be caught, but Dean was going to come back, and Lucifer wasn’t exactly the most discreet angel out there, his grace would easily give him away.
The angel had been sent to bring dean out, the heavenly network told him. It was only a matter of time. Sam and Dean would hate it, though. Lucifer was aware of this. They shared everything with Sam, an open connection was the best way to achieve resonance with his vessel, and limit how badly having Lucifer in him would damage Sam’s body.
Either Lucifer died, he knew, or Michael did. It was either they flee now, or either Sam or Dean, as their true vessels, would die in their fight with Michael.
And at the end of the day, it was an easy choice.
Sam woke up the next morning, emptier than he could ever remember being. His head was his, for the first time since his mother’s death, and it hurt like never before. There was an apology note on the table next to the bed and, with some trepidation, Sam reached out, and began to read it.
#supernatural#spn lucifer#sam winchester#dean winchester#whumpay#my fanfic#au - when you cannot hide
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Tokyo ghoul for the Shipp asks
My OTP:
Ehgn. I have a couple that I think about more than others but I don’t necessarily consider them OTPs. If I had to pick a relatively popular one, Utaren is neat!
My NOTP:
Garden Child x Garden Child when it’s encouraged. I don’t really mind when it’s a narrative examining those unhealthy one-sided relationships without endorsing them, because Ihei’s fascination with Arima and Furuta’s with Rize are large portions of their canon characterization. But they’re still all half-siblings and I don’t think I could see them working in an actual requited ship anyways, especially considering it's not really a "romantic" attachment for either of them, so much as a deeply desperate one.
MY OT3:
Seiakimon, Itorizeto.
A currently canon ship I’m okay with but don’t prefer:
Touken, I know I’ve ranted about how much it confuses me but I don’t actively hate the ship, it simply is. It feels a little odd and unrealistic, but so are a lot of my own pairings.
I don’t throw (large) stones from this glass house. You won’t see me making art for it by choice but it’s not hurting anyone so, do what you need to do.
A ship that would only work in an AU but would be awesome:
I think I’ve talked about how in canon Arima feels too bitchless to be shipped with anyone in adulthood, but AU AriEto is hilarious. Also I saw Hajime x Yusa about 6 years post-canon in an AU where the prior survived once, and that was interesting.
A ship I’d like to see explored but not stick around:
Furutui, I don't know why I like it. Leave my brain alone.
A ship that may as well be canon:
Sometimes I forget that Ayato x Hinami isn’t canon, it kind of is right? They’re sweet, I like it sometimes but I feel like both of them are a little overrated, and that extends to my feelings about the ship.
The ships I’d give my OTP pair if the other died:
I don’t want to inflict Furuta on anyone. It feels mean. Anyone would rightfully hate feeling attracted to this guy, and he hates feeling. I want them to die together.
Koori can kiss Ihei in heaven (?) while the other one rots in what I’d say would be hell, but I don’t think the devil wants this bastard around either.
A crossover ship I’d dig:
Platonic Juuzou and Zazie the Beast. Living embodiments of that one meme “THEY/THEM OUT CAUSING MAY/HEM”
A ship that would work great in a Coffee Shop AU:
Canon is the coffee shop AU. I don’t know? I could make a coffee shop AU work for just about anyone but if I had to pick characters that have no relation to Anteiku… Mutsurie and MutsKanae could work excellently either way.
A ship that would work great in a sitcom AU:
Suzuhan, (They’re pretty much a comedy duo already) Shuunaki, (But just about anything with Shuu in it could work well) and whatever the ship name for Saiko x Hsiao is.
#miscellaneous not-art things#zeph answers questions about media/characters/ships#tg#sorry.#My mind said “what if I took these two terrible people where one of them is notably worse. What if that worse one lived.”#and then never shook the idea off
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10, 11, 19, 20, and one question of your choosing please
10: Top three favourite fic tropes.
mmm arranged marriage; period/historical; slow-burn. all three in one is my holy grail :D (which, now that i think about it, i did kinda write that in It Is Before That, and Colder, though idk if that truly counts as a slow-burn.)
11: Three tropes that are fine but overrated.
Coffee shop: it's fine, but not every pairing needs one. Similarly, office aus. Annnnd miscommunication, which is used waaay too much. LOL i'm such a grinch.
19: Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.
“I need assistance.”
Laura looked up from the books she was sorting onto the returns cart. The man in front of her was on the younger side, maybe in his late twenties or early thirties. He was handsome, in a somewhat average way, and he had his elbows on her glass counter.
“How can I help you?” She kept her voice calm and friendly, even as she raised an eyebrow at his elbows. He didn’t take the hint, sighing gustily instead, his fingers spinning a battered-looking phone between his hands.
“My manager’s gone and quit with no notice, the asshole. I need help making some bookings.”
Laura blinked.
“Oh,” she said, “well, the public computers are over there.” She gestured toward the bank of screens against the far wall, currently occupied by a cluster of students, two retirees, and one college student who had better not be looking up porn again. “The log-in info is on the laminated cards taped to the top of each monitor. Please make sure to log out of any personal accounts when you’re finished, and please know that the library has a zero tolerance policy on NSFW content on the public machines.”
Turning back to the shelving cart, she picked up the next book and glanced at the spine. Linguistics.
20: Do you work on a single project or many at the same time? How does that work for you?
a dear friend of mine used to describe my writing process as being 'all of the freeways in LA at rush hour' - there are thousands of cars, all going different places. some are at a standstill, some are moving along at a steady pace, and some idiot's always tearing recklessly through traffic.
yes, i work on many projects at once, LOL. it works for me well enough, i suppose? i don't think i could do it any other way, tbh, so it's kind of irrelevant how it does or doesn't work, lol.
and dealer's choice gives me 34: Do you write to improve? Or is that not a concern for you?
i do try to improve my writing as i do more of it. i wouldn't say that improvement is my only goal, or that i work all that hard on it in every story - heaven knows there are things i could do to work on things more (writing classes, reading books about it, etc) that i am 100% not interested in doing. but i love telling stories, and i want to tell good stories, and that means i am in a general way always trying to figure out how to tell better stories that connect to the audience even more strongly.
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if no one has said 5, 11, or 39 yet, then gimmeeeeee 🤲🏻
5. What’s a tag you never want to use for your works even when it applies?
Hmm. I'm not sure there's anything that falls under this, since due to my paranoia I'm a chronic overtagger-for-safety. But I think in Twilight fandom in general it can be tough to decide whether some tags even apply or not—does a canon-compliant story count as "adoptive sibling incest?" Does edbella need "age gap"? How about carlesme or jalice? (I would tend to err on the side of "no," but I can easily imagine a scenario where that enrages someone.)
And it's a warning, but it can be so tricky to figure out if/when "Major Character Death" applies when the major characters of canon aren't necessarily major characters in the fic and vice-versa.
11. Three tropes that are fine but overrated.
Already answered here, so instead I'll do three tropes I think are underrated.
#1 is arranged marriage/marriage of convenience. I know it gets plenty of love I just don't think it can be rated highly enough
#2 is exes-to-lovers, or just like second chances in general. I think there are specific ships and fandoms that do this really well, but I wish it was more popular in general because it's such an interesting writing challenge and inevitably yields cool results.
#3 I've seen posts on here lamenting that Sense8 AU fusions never caught on and I agree. Make everyone platonic group-soulmates with freaky involuntary psychic bonds!!
39. Wildest AU scenario you have written?
idk I think everything I've written is pretty tame, at least in this fandom. In a previous fandom I wrote a modern AU where one character was a cat. Not like he was turned into a cat, he was simply a regular cat from the start and the main human character had a cat instead of his canonical human best friend. I realized belatedly that this was me trying to isolate said main character and force him to confide in a different friend instead—in canon she's more like his gf's friend, but I like their dynamic and the way she challenges him, so I wanted more of that instead of main character + enabler canon bestie. but neither could I bear to erase Enabler Canon Bestie entirely, so: cat. anyway the fic was a very standard romcom; not wild at all
also once in Orphan Black fandom I wrote this ridiculous AU from the pov of the angel who is supposed to take Cosima's soul to heaven but keeps getting thwarted by her freaky psychic niece at every turn. it was extremely silly
my wildest AU scenarios remain partially written/unposted—you know the ones ;)
send me yet more writing asks
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Non-Binary Masterlist
Comment, Like, Subscribe My Heart (ao3) - thesoulsailor
michael/luke
N/R, 54k
Summary: Youtube!AU in which Luke is a non-binary beauty guru, Michael is the lead singer of Ashton's cover band and Calum thinks gender roles are overrated anyways.
Complete Mess (ao3) - no_clue_who
luke/ashton
E, 1k
Summary: Ashton looked amazing. Ashton always looked amazing but right now, Luke couldn’t think because of how good he looked. Ashton had decided leather pants were the best move for tonight, leather pants that wrapped around his thigh oh so nicely.
He couldn’t handle the sight of Ashton. Every time they saw him, they needed to do something.
Ashton wasn't helping, the permanent smile on his face had turned into something to tease Luke.
or how not to do a late night performance
drag the lake and bring me home again (ao3) - younggod
michael/luke
T, 2k
Summary: the one where michael is dating luke and luke is nonbinary and wants to feel safe and michael thinks he can help him with that
Escape My Attention (ao3) - jadedperspective
michael/calum
E, 3k
Summary: Calum has called him a slut before, it made his gut twist and his thighs clench as he grew hard between his legs. The degrading words rung around the room and everyone had seen his reaction, had seen him squirm in his chair and pant for more.
And now it is his favorite thing to be called, topping even good and pretty. Michael just wants to be the best slut he can be.
honey i'm still free (take a chance on me) (ao3) - mukelftv
michael/luke
T, 2k
Summary: luke is convinced michael is going to break up with him.
i know the sound of your heart (ao3) - younggod
michael/luke
T, 2k
Summary: drabble about lazy punk lovers on lazy days
aka an addition to "this is where god has hidden his heaven" where michael helps luke with his binder again because luke just doesn't change does he
I'll be there, time and place (ao3) - jbhmalum
michael/calum
T, 1k
Summary: Calum gets home from work to a sick Michael. He takes care of them.
I'm Back in My Body (ao3) - FayeHunter
luke/ashton
M, 3k
Summary: Luke has a conversation with KayKay that pushes him to re-consider his own gender identity.
lay low in our lazy luxury (ao3) - bellawritess
michael/calum
T, 1k
Summary: “Maximum comfort,” they explain, completely misinterpreting the sceptical look on Calum’s face.
Calum pries the last waffle off the iron and settles it atop the stack on the plate. “I wasn’t wondering about the jumpers, you idiot, I’m wondering why Monopoly was your choice. Are you trying to break up with me?”
Michael laughs. “It’ll be fun!”
Leather Lover (ao3) - no_clue_who
luke/ashton
E, 1k
Summary: Luke knew they had a problem when he saw Ashton in the dressing room and in the leather pants. How Ashton was running his hands over his thighs and fixing how they landed on his hips. He watched him buckle and unbuckle his belt a few times before pulling their eyes away to fix up his makeup. Luke looked over at Ashton through the mirror and watched him run a hand over this thigh once more before smiling at Luke.
or how not to deal with leather pants
let it take you under, feel your worries disappear (ao3) - jbmalum
michael/calum
T, 3k
Summary: Calum has been having some realizations about their gender identity. They come out to Michael.
Outlast the Ignorance (ao3) - mastasof_ravenkroft
ot4
Summary: ' Eventually, the girl left, and Ashton's roommate turned around, dragging his suitcase into the room. The first thing Ashton noticed was that the boy was pretty. Not handsome, definitely pretty. Plump pink lips and long eyelashes- Ashton soon realised the boy was wearing makeup.
The boy’s eyes met his own, as if daring Ashton to comment, and Ashton looked at the floor.
"Hi. I'm- I'm Ashton," he cursed the way his voice gave away his nerves, and he quickly glanced up to meet the other boy's eyes again. He looked kind, but wary.
"I'm Calum. I'm gonna say this right away: I'm non-binary, and I use they/them pronouns. If you have an issue with that, you can talk to the RA."
Ashton's brows furrowed in confusion, "non-binary? What's that?" '
take care (ao3) - no_clue_who
luke/ashton
T, 1k
Summary: Luke has laryngitis. Luke had somehow gotten laryngitis on the first week of tour. He was talking about a small cough a few days ago and then last night walked off stage and this morning his voice was scratchy and they couldn’t talk. They had somehow gotten laryngitis two shows in, and Ashton was his personal maid to keep him healthy.
Ashton kept up with Luke, making sure they always had water around themselves and made sure Calum and Michael didn’t drink Luke’s water.
or how not to start a tour
tired of chasing the words i need to say (ao3) - fueledbygaymen
michael/calum
G, 1k
Summary: “Let me finish, Cal.” Their words came faster than before. This was the one chance Michael had to say the words racing through their mind, and there was no going back. “I can’t keep doing this with you under the impression you think I’m a guy,” they rushed out, immediately looking away.
Venus in Furs (ao3) - FayeHunter
luke/ashton
M, 3k
Summary: Luke's having an iffy day. Ashton's there to help them
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huli jing au chang’e is just an immortal who got tired of boring old heaven & decided to fuck around on earth, unintentionally became the most popular furry species, yet still found a way to become immortal again by occasionally going feral while haunting a small city & causing a big boom in their population every few decades.
tldr ; ‘ i fucked around & found out heaven is overrated ’ -chang’e
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Fic: Prophylaxis
Wordcount: 1405
Summary: Space Opera AU. Vierna wonders sometimes if the flaws of the old jumpships have fallen wholly out of human memory; Jarlaxle would know, perhaps, but she daren't turn his mind to the question if it isn't already there. Takes place between But Only So An Hour and Underbelly.
[Warnings for canon-typical drow sexism.]
It is a warning known to every every cosmonaut—when you sail the stars and go through a wormhole, you are forever changed.
Forever lasts until the next wormhole.
Before long, humans had developed better travel, faster travel, that didn't require them to send their sailors through rips in the fabric of reality. But the old wormhole-jumpers had never been mothballed, and there were still a few ships out there with the capability, with old engines that can't run along the stars but can skip right through them.
But the old ships grew rarer and rarer as human captains became skittish about their fatal flaw:
When you go through a wormhole, reality reverses itself. You reverse yourself. You come through backwards, down the molecular structure. Your DNA goes widdershins in your blood, and your proteins flip symmetry. You went in right-handed, and you come out right-handed still—but you return to a universe of lefties.
When the body digests malformed proteins—prions—it fails to understand them, then tries to incorporate this failure into its entire being. Men have died with seafoam on their lips and whalesongs in their head trying to bring the universe into a body not ready for it.
After you go through a wormhole, the entire universe becomes incomprehensible, a file your body can't read. All food becomes poison, unless it's gone through the wormhole with you, been translated into protein that is compatible with your new hardware.
And then you go through another wormhole, and the sinister universe rights itself.
To compensate, most pre-faster-than-light fleets had rules about never stopping after an odd wormhole. Battle maps and trade routes went by the rules of two by two by two. Sailors followed this guide for centuries, for so long that, even today, many space captains with faster-than-light engines still take a short break during their journey, long enough to pause the ship, to study a nebula, to wait—what they're waiting for, they don't know.
Some of the older fleets, of course, still use wormhole technology. The universe does not throw away a tool that works. Evolution does not invent so much as it recycles—vestigial traits linger, are given new purpose, until they become necessary again.
The drow fleets, for example, depend on wormhole jumping. They could switch over to faster-than-light—even galactic sanctions are not so powerful as to keep them limited to obsolete spaceflight—but the matriarchs find it a useful tether on their ship-captains. Two by two by two, they say. Two by two by two is eight, and our lady abhors odd numbers. Oddity is for heretics.
Heresy is punishable by death, and death conveniently applies itself to any captains (and their crews) who may have ventured off the carefully cultivated map. The drow matriarchs, every one trained in genetics and bioenegineering, must surely know the real cause of the Death of the Heretic, but they find it more convenient to hide that fact.
They have built control into their sons' blood, carved obedience into their bones. But power held loosely is apt to slip out of grasp, and tools, however crude, should not be simply abandoned. Not when they work.
In a shielded bubble, hidden in the shadow of a crater on the scarred surface of Lloth's eighth moon, Vierna the houseless, formerly of House Do'Urden, frowned at a microscope and studied her brother's blood.
"This is the only sample?" she asked. She didn't look at Jarlaxle. If she looked at him, she would be able to tell that he was lying. If she caught him lying, she would have to do something about it.
Better not to know. If she were of House Baenre or Del'Armgo or even Mizzrym, she could send soldiers or spies to search his base and confiscate any material. But it's just her. She has no soldiers, no spies. His base is also her base, her laboratory and home.
By not asking, she may have made it easier for him to commit blasphemy, but she couldn't solve that right now.
Later, she promised herself. When she's redeemed herself and her name to the great houses, she will have the power to undo whatever damage she has allowed Jarlaxle to do.
"Of course." He perched on a counter, boot heels kicking against the cupboard doors. He could have been a coddled child sitting on a kitchen counter, not in a bioengineering laboratory with rigid expectations for safety and protocol.
Vierna reminded herself that she couldn't just kick him out or tell him to get his ass off the counters. It was, technically speaking, Jarlaxle's lab.
Why was he still here? Vierna squinted at the blood, barely seeing it.
He wouldn't ask what she had found, surely. That would be too bold, even for him. So, she told herself—he was lingering in hopes that she might let some information slip. He would be looking for the same thing she was, no doubt—the key to her brother's survival away from Menzoberranzan's atmosphere—but all of his researchers were male. Even if they had the training to know what they were looking at, they wouldn't be as good. He needed a real bioengineer to tell him what there was—he needed Vierna.
She smirked.
"Get off the counter."
He swung his boots up onto the opposing counter instead, ignoring how it made the glassware clink. Vierna felt her smirk fade.
"Dinin told me you haven't allowed anyone into the lab for months. I thought that surely you would appreciate the company."
"Dinin may appreciate your company." Far too much, by Vierna's reckoning, but she had long ago accepted her brother's limitations. "I appreciate your absence more."
"You wound me." He sounded pleased, though, and Vierna knew that he enjoyed her company as little as she did his.
"What else did you find?" She was aware that Jarlaxle had raided several human labs before acquiring this sample, and still had the stolen computers. Trying to pry answers out of simple machines was a mundane task, suitable for the male researchers. Their minds were too shallow to grasp the fractal complexities of biology, but the binary simplicity of humanity's machines seemed to suit them well.
"Nothing yet."
He was lying again. She decided to allow it. After all, the truly important knowledge, the real answers, were in right front of her, in a language only she could read.
Finally he took the hint and left, abandoning her to blessed silence. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the darkness calm her mind, before going back to examining the blood sample.
She had expected some kind of cludge. A sturdy virus that would keep his immune system too busy to destroy vital organs. Or a hatchet job, cutting out the entire immune system—which would leave him vulnerable to many other diseases, but would stop him from dying immediately. Instead she found a work of art. She studied the sequence that had been grafted onto the end of the strand.
She was humming, she realized, tracing holy geometry on the countertop with her fingers.
The new genetic sequence was a work of art, modulating the subject's immune response rather than distracting it or cutting it out entirely. Whoever had done the work had built in a response to the signals that organ failure would send to the rest of the body, telling the immune system to reduce activity if the liver or kidneys or lungs started to die. Vierna felt her breath catch in the way that sudden understanding always granted—the solution was elegant. Beautiful, in its own heretical way.
She started planning viruses to counter it—and it would have to be viruses, because the kind of intensive gene re-writing to undo it would require custody of her brother, which she did not have. Perhaps if she keyed it to attack the organs first, it could make the immune system surrender without a fight...
She started growing a copy of the blood for testing purposes, then kept studying it. It was the work of an hour to prepare a cludge-virus that would accomplish the task.
She frowned, considering how brute-force that approach seemed. It seemed wrong, to use such a blunt instrument to destroy such delicate work. She felt like a virus was the right approach, but perhaps she could make it neater. Something a little more elegant, to show respect for her anonymous counterpart.
She tossed the first version in an incinerator and began again.
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This has been in my head for A WHILE now, so y’all are gonna get it too.
Good Omens AU where Crowley sees the burning bookshop, assumes it’s hellfire, assumes Aziraphale is permanently dead, and instead of going to get hammered, just fucks off to Alpha Centuri. He’s well aware he can’t go back to Hell, and without Aziraphale there with him, he doesn’t care to save Earth anymore.
When Aziraphale pops down to Earth to find Crowley, he doesn’t, of course. He’s brought immediately to Crowley’s apartment, sees the holy water and demon on the floor, and also assumes the worst. Aziraphale know he can’t go back to heaven, but fuck it if he’s not going to spite Heaven and Hell now. Aziraphale still posses Madame Tracy and heads to the air field base.
Crowley quickly realized that he only ever wanted to escape to Alpha Centuri if he was with Aziraphale. So now he’s got nowhere to go. He gives himself a resigned sigh and heads back to Earth, just to see what happens when the world eventually does end. He’s got nothing at this point. When he gets there, something feels very different than when he left, and he eventually tracks this “different” feeling to the airfield base and finds Madame Tracy/Aziraphale about to straight up murder a child. There is a very teary-eyed reunion when Aziraphale gets his own body back.
The final battle goes down pretty similarly to cannon, and on the bench waiting to give back the gifts for the horsemen, Aziraphale confronts Crowley about the demon goo, Crowley tells him about the burnt bookshop, both of them freak out and proper realize they’re in love with each other. Body swap still ensues, life is good.
#good omens#ineffable husbands#aziraphale#crowley#aziraphele and crowley#i put drops of jupiter on my a/c playlist#mostly for the line ‘heaven is overrated’#but then i thought about it for a little too long#(specifically the lyric ‘and did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?’)#and then this au happened#i know its still very similar to cannon#but idk i like it#also when i say ‘pretty similarly to cannon’#i mean that but this time they hold hands
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I saw you rb a SaiSaku post and was curious if you had any fanfic recs for this rarepair?!
Do I have?!!!!! I am currently binging this ship so you couldn't have asked this at better time.
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This pair is not a crack ship! Crack would mean they have not shared more than two words with each other. But SaiSaku interactions always bordered on romance and best friends who don't act like it. Not only Sakura was the first person to acknowledge Sai had human side to him and bonded with him over his painting, Sai was also the only person outside Sasuke (in part 1) to be able tell her fake smiles and he always understood her feelings better than other characters. Had Sakura ever only cared for good looks (something she don't) then with Sai she'd get that and so much more.
I have always considered SaiSaku as the next best thing after NaruSaku. They had too much potential as a couple. I am not bitter that InoSai became a thing but looking at them I only feel that "Ino didn't get Sasuke so she get his look-alike." Besides, Sai gave people nicknames that are opposites to what actually feels about them – Naruto as Dickless, Sakura as Hag/Ugly and Ino as Beautiful – which makes it worse. Both Ino and Sai deserve better than this. If Kishi has shown them together more often or had interactions between them similar to SaiSaku then I can understand why Ino is his light. I guess it is also SP's fault for showing them in different light. For all SP hates Sakura, they enjoy messing up with her fans by feeding them false hope.
Whenever I want to read something hilarious but deep, SaiSaku is my to-go couple. Usually angsty, or full bout of insults and punches. There's no in between with them.
. SaiSaku .
This list contains my favorite SaiSaku collection. I am not sure if you like SaiSaku only as romance ship but this list also contain stories that expands on SaiSaku friendship, something I absolutely adore.
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Could Roses Bloom? : RiseoftheBlossom || M || AO3 || Shippuden AU || GaaSaku, SaiSaku || Angst, Romance || Ongoing
Sai glanced downwards at his body, the sudden override of his thoughts causing his mind to blank. What did that mean? Had he been straying too close to a piece of information Danzo didn't want him to have or share? Or was it his mind's natural response to shutting down any form of emotion, even if it was just the slightest of inclination towards feeling something?
Go for it if you like: enemies-to-friends-to-lovers troupe, SaiSaku friendship, confused-over-his-feelings!Sai, slow burn, GaaSaku, boys who are bad at feelings, Sakura who is unlucky with romance, angst with fluff
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hello, bright eyes (been waiting on you) : mouseymightymarvellous || T || AO3 || Shippuden AU || SaiSaku || Angst, Romance || One Shot
“look underneath the underneath,” except no one has ever really bothered to look at sakura and see her. and then there is a boy (isn’t there always). maybe they’re both just ghosts, making each other real.
Go for it if you like: enemies-to-friends-to-lovers troupe, confused-over-her-feelings!Sakura, boys who are bad at feelings, Sakura who is unlucky with romance, Sai and Sakura who don't feel like they belong, angst with fluff, sad!Sai
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Oh God That’s Heaven : blueberrysconesandfolkmusic || T || AO3 || Shippuden AU || SaiSaku || Angst, Romance || One Shot
Sakura finds Sai sick, alone, and in desperate need of a hand that doesn't hurt.
Go for it if you like: boys who are bad at feelings, bleeding-heart!Sakura, sad-and-lonely!Sai, Sai and Sakura who are secretly best friends, Sai with PTSD, protective!team7
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for everything blue and bright : sinemoras09 || M || AO3 || Shippuden AU || SaiSaku, SasuSaku || Angst || One Shot
The five stages of human arousal.
Go for it if you like: lonely!Sai, obsessed!Sakura, One-sided love, Unrequited-love-no-matter-how-you-look-at-it!SaiSaku, no-good-very-bad!Ending, pining!Sai, bittersweet lemon
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A mess of me : Dovey || M || AO3 || Pre-Shippuden AU || SaiSaku || Yandere Romance || Complete
In which Sai is a good ANBU agent with an unusual hobby, and Sakura grows up with a #1 fan rooting for her....even if she doesn't know it. Or: Sai starts stalking Sakura when they're both young to satisfy his curiousity about 'normalcy', gets attached, and eventually gets very frustrated that nobody else seems to notice her potential as a shinobi and takes matters into his own hands- and delights in being Sakura's prime source of validation because of it.
Go for it if you like: obsessed!Sai, manipulation, stalker!Sai, mentor!Sai, SaiSaku friendship, distraught!Kakashi, fluff, baby-Sai-stalking-baby-Sakura, abusive haruno household
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There is sunshine on his forehead : amako || T || AO3 || Soulmate AU || SaiSaku but it's complicated || Angst, Hurt/Comfort || One Shot
Sakura is only three when she promises herself that Sasuke will die by her hand, whoever he is.
Go for it if you like: dysfunctional Team 7, Soulmate AU, Unrequited love feels, angst heavy, Sai and Sakura only want to belong, NaruSasu, NaruSaku but not really, betrayal heavy, no fluff only pain, SaiSaku, Team 7 taking Sakura for granted, Sakura is so done
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In theory : nimblnymph || T || FFN || Shippuden || SaiSaku || Romance, Humor || One Shot
For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Sai was about to learn that this theory applied to more than just physics. And that putting theory into practice sometimes gave unexpected results.
Go for it if you like: oblivious!Sai, teacher!Sakura, student!Sai, Sai getting educated, Sakura educating Sai, Kisses, Sai being Sai, Sakura with patience of god
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Loathing : i AM the Random Idiot || T || FFN || Shippuden || SaiSaku || Romance, Angst || One Shot
Define "hatred."
Go for it if you like: oblivious!Sai, hurt!Sai, Angst, Onions, SakuSai bonding over mutual hate, love is overrated anyway
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Bunk Mates : ice bitten || T || FFN || Shippuden || Team 7 || Humor, Friendship || One Shot
In which Sasuke and Naruto find out Sakura has been sleeping over at Sai's. Short stories surrounding Sakura, Sai, and the invasive people of Konoha.
Go for it if you like: sassy!Sai, protective!Team7, SaiSaku friendship, roommates, Sai being Sai, Perfect characterisation, Canon feels
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Paint me with Colour : PeregrineFlight || T || FFN || post-Shippuden || SaiSaku|| Humor, Friendship || Incomplete
Sai and Sakura must travel to the Land of Lightning to retrieve something for the Daimyo, they have to travel as a married couple. Much to Naruto's amusement.
Go for it if you like: lonely!Sai, SaiSaku friendship, roommates, Sai being Sai, pretend marriage, SaiSaku bonding over mission, fluffy angst, adorable!Sai
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Forget Me Not : Joy-girl || T || FFN || post-Shippuden || Team 7 || Angst, Friendship || Complete
Sometimes it's easy to forget how important someone is when the person is always in the background – but Sakura's boys still remember. Glimpses of her importance from each member of her team.
Go for it if you like: fluffy angst, Sakura's place in team 7, underappreciated Sakura, Team7 family, Family feels, sad!Sakura, protective!Team7 males, Sakura appreciation, SaiSaku bond, Team7Saku feels, avenger!Teammates
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Add Me Colour : Cella N || T || FFN || post-Shippuden || SaiSaku || Drama, Romance || Complete
"All my life is white. Paint me. Add me colour."
Go for it if you like: lonely!Sakura, Sai being Sai, confused!Sakura, angst, poetic translation, colors
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Euphemisms : Nymbis || T || FFN || Shippuden || SaiSaku || Humor, Romance || Complete(?)
Drabbles about Sai, Sakura, and their strange attempts at bonding.
Go for it if you like: Sai being Sai, Sakura being Sakura, Hilarious friendships, SaiSaku friendship, loveggression, love-hate relationship, Insults, Sai's brand of humor, fluff with punches, Raunchy stuff
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Ricochet : Strix 4 || T || FFN || Shippuden AU || Team 7 || Family, Drama || Complete(?)
Sometimes it's easy to see the familiar in the faces around you. Sometimes it sucks to figure out why.
Go for it if you like: fluffy angst, Sakura's place in team 7, Team7 as family, Family feels, wise!Sakura, SaiSaku bond, Sai's place in team 7
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Pick up lines : Demoneyes 14 || T || FFN || Shippuden || SaiSaku || Humor || One Shot
Ero sennin's pick up lines! Guaranteed to get the girl or your money back! Well... it would be more guaranteed if it hadn't fallen on his face in the library, but heck, Sai will try anything once! Maybe it will save him a beating from Sakura...
Go for it if you like: Sai being Sai, Sakura being Sakura, SaiSaku friendship, loveggression, love-hate relationship, Insults, Sai's brand of humor, fluff with punches
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Special mentions...
Study of the Heart : teresa
In an effort to become a better friend, Sai undertakes a study of love, not really understanding how difficult it could be, and how surprising.
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The Blood of a Cherry Blossom : Slytherin Kunoichi
Originally, for Halloween, Sai hadn't decided what to go as, but once he glimpsed at the bleeding flesh on Sakura's neck, he suddenly had the urge to be a vampire…
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Old Dogs, New Tricks : yuugiri
After an unprecedented turn of events, the Fifth Hokage has officially assigned Sakura Haruno the responsibility to make Sai recover what he had lost; his emotions. With a time limit of a month, will Sakura succeed in this mission?
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Once More, With Feeling : Cynchick
Sakura didn't know what she was thinking when she showed up on his doorstep.
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Ink Me : Krickitat
Exploring the art of bod-modification Sakura takes a step into the unknown world of the exquisite pain of art.
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The Uchiha Secret : Slytherin Kunoichi
Sasuke froze as he stared at Sai's eyes, which were identical to his Uchiha Sharingan eyes now: red with anger and black with hatred...One family secret could threaten and shake three lives forever. Bonds will be broken.
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My babies don't get enough love in the world.
youtube
#i have more but these are my favorite#if you want more dm me#saisaku#i love my two babies#their dynamics is uwu#sakusai#sai x sakura#team 7#family dynamics#family feels#friendship heavy#sai appreciation#i love him so muuuuuch#he deserves the world#naruto fanfiction#naruto#naruto fandom#fanfictions#fanfics#fanfiction reccomendations#i reccomend it#sasusaku#i stand with saisaku#team 7 shenanigans
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you+me+the Devil, m | myg, jjk | prologue
pairing(s): (eventual) yoongi x reader x jungkook
summary: It's an ordinary day in Hell, but soon it won't be.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language - if you're religious, maybe skip this one; world building; supernatural and horror (and it gets way creepier during the smut, you have been warned); non-idol!AU - Hell!AU; Devil!Yoongi x ???!reader x Devil's right-hand demon!Jungkook; this not a parallel universe but rather an alternate dimension of Heaven, Hell, the world, and... you'll see.
--
you and me and the Devil makes 3
prologue | the summoning | the collection | 666
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The Devil is a greatly misunderstood man.
Perverted, if you will.
Everyone assumes the Devil is the one who causes sin. The reality is, that’s not true at all. The Devil only influences free will. Corruption? Revenge? Overconsumption? Carnal desires? Hoarding? Ambition? Procrastination? The Devil doesn’t need to procure any of that.
You already have all that in you.
He just whispers in your ear and reminds you that you can do it.
-
Having infinite time had taught the Devil many things. Firstly, humanity was predictable. Secondly, listening to your father was overrated. Thirdly, escaping heaven and creating your own kingdom wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
It was boring.
“Hyung.”
A muscle twitched in his eye. He did not like being disturbed. He was the Devil. A busy man. Less busy these days because humanity no longer needed his help in being hideously depraved. They were already depraved. He barely had to do anything related to that front these days. And well, religion, in all forms, had some strange rules for why souls needed to show up on his doorstep.
What did you do? I had sex before marriage. So what? I have to go to hell. Yeah, no, fuck off, into Purgatory you go, it’ll take two seconds for you to be forgiven for that. What did you do? I’m gay. And it’s a Tuesday, you done stating the obvious? Into Purgatory you go. What did you do? I’m a Satanist. Uh huh. Sure, you are. Get on the fucking boat, you’re going to Purgatory.
Purgatory left him a lot of missed calls that the Devil refused to answer.
There were those that definitely deserved to be tortured for eternity, but most wayward souls that appeared got shipped straight to Purgatory. Go to Purgatory, atone for your sins, and then you’re unfortunately allowed to enter Heaven. Grand. Humans truly were stupid for wanting to be with his old man that badly.
How revolting.
The Devil didn’t have time for petty sins. He was, again, a busy man.
“Hyung, stop pretending to be asleep.”
He grunted and opened one eye. He already knew who it was. A black-haired man with a piercing stare, strong dark brows, high cheekbones, sharp jawline, and a body built for sin, wrapped in an exquisite black suit that demanded to be ripped off. Shapely pink lips, with a small mole underneath the center of his lower lip. He was scowling, tongue between his teeth. He had a very nice tongue. The Devil knew that firsthand.
Jeon Jungkook, his right-hand demon, was looking quite cross.
Heh.
“Hm?”
Jungkook crossed his arms, glaring down at him. “Why bother being on the throne when you’re using it like a bed anyway?”
The Devil slid up into sitting position. The throne changed every day. He couldn’t commit to a specific style. And, well, when all he had to do was snap his fingers and conjure something different, he did without much thought. Today’s throne was a plush, quilted, black velvet sofa.
He wanted to lay down, after all.
Jungkook let out a huff. “Well, in any case, have you seen Seokjin-hyung lately? Something happened to him.”
The Devil frowned. “Hyung? Haven’t seen him.”
Jungkook narrowed his eyes and mouth into lines. “Technically, you’re in charge so you shouldn’t call him ‘hyung’ anymore.”
The Devil shrugged. Another common misconception about the Devil was that he was always the same guy. He was… and he wasn’t. Eventually, all immortal beings got bored of being immortal and decided to change things up. The Devil was one such being. He liked to consume the souls of other powerful demons. Live their lives, have different mindsets. Broaden his perspective. They all lived within him, a unification of many souls that lived amongst the original, with one host.
He liked his current host soul quite a lot.
Maybe, one day, Jeon Jungkook would become the Devil. Probably why he insisted on being the Devil’s right-hand man. The Devil liked that. Ambition. It was sexy.
He liked sexy.
“What’s with Seokjin-hyung?”
Jungkook was about to correct him again but decided against it. “He came back from being up above, but he’s all… weird. Like the others.”
The Devil frowned.
“That’s five now,” the black-haired man continued, tucking long strands behind his ear and exposing his ear and neck. The silver earrings he wore glinted in the fire around them. Not even the everlasting fire was as hot as that curve from Jungkook’s neck to shoulder. “Seokjin-hyung, Namjoon-hyung, Hoseok-hyung, Jimin, Taehyungie.”
The Devil noticed Jungkook dropped honorifics for the last two demons even though they were older than him. He smirked. He also liked that. Defiance was sexy.
Back to the matter at hand, the Devil had noticed this pattern himself. Souls could be smote, vanquished, destroyed by those high above. This, however, was different. As far as he knew, he was the only being that could consume the other demons, the only one that could take the soul all at once or hold pieces of their souls like gems, tearing them apart little by little.
But now five of his demons were missing tiny parts of their souls and he had no idea why.
He clicked his tongue.
They couldn’t give him the details, probably because that was part of the contract that they had made with whoever it was. Probably to keep him, the Devil, from finding the culprit. The thing about contracts was, well, they were binding. Not even the Devil himself could break them. Well, he could, if he just killed the demon. But he wasn’t going to do that, especially not to his favorite demons. He did want to throttle them sometimes, but everyone benefited from a good choking.
“I suppose I will have to look into it,” the Devil sighed.
Those were the last words the Devil, Min Yoongi, spoke before he was torn from Hell.
-
part i
the summoning.
there’s not a word for what i wanna do to you
--
masterpost
#yoongi x reader#jungkook x reader#yoonkook x reader#yoonkook smut#bts smut#yoongi x you#min yoongi x you#min yoongi x reader#yoonkook x you#jungkook x you#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x you
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