We love pairing characters with different listeners… and sometimes we like to stir the pot a bit with a toxic twist!
We at Angel Management welcome you to our newest ship/AU:
Sunshine x Blake ( choosing deception over blackmail )
What’s the next best way to get someone to willfully help you in your massive plan to save your crush from death? Having their trust of course! In this turn of events, Blake had Sunshine’s memories removed of their best friend Elliott, and inserted himself in place of him. After all, who wouldn’t want to help their best friend?
Things get messy as Sunshine’s platonic feelings for their best friend in their scattered memories (Elliott) clash with their newfound romantic feelings (Blake). Blake forces himself to put up with it in order to try to save Bestie. He’s disgusted, forcing a smile for the person he’s technically holding hostage. What happens when he also starts to develop feelings for them…?
( Elliott and Sunshine never developed feelings for each other )
Now to probably the 3 people that see my stuff, y'all know I can't take shit seriously a lot right? Had to edit THIS scene. Obviously.
Anyway,
Ashur × Messia
Can't tell me he didn't want to join in. That little eyebrow raise when he saw her, he was standing there both traumatized and hoping that could've been part of the gift to him.
Charles lay dead. His lifeless, greyed-out eyes stared up at the ceiling of the flat he paid for. An expansive white void that stretched for miles and miles with little texture, eggshell smooth, nothing. Plum, tart and deep, sickly sweet and metallic blood iron filings in conflict, soaking into the Hereke. Charles is dead. Charles Hanani is dead. Charles is dead.
ao3 ver. here
word count: 1,153 category: M/F rating: mature fandom: Interview with the Vampire x Industry HBO ship: The Vampire Armand x Yasmin Kara-Hanani tags: crossover, crackship one-shot, canon divergent-alternative universe, hurt/comfort warnings: blood, murder/patricide, age-gap, sexual repression
a/n: hello, i'm byrdiey and i am a yasmand addict. very niche fic for my very niche crackship. my poor little psychotic evil sexually repressed bisexual babies. a little writing exercise to distract me from working on my wips. happy valentine's day!
Edifice Without Dimension
Charles lay dead. His lifeless, greyed-out eyes stared up at the ceiling of the flat he paid for. An expansive white void that stretched for miles and miles with little texture, eggshell smooth, nothing. Plum, tart and deep, sickly sweet and metallic blood iron filings in conflict, soaking into the Hereke. Charles is dead. Charles Hanani is dead. Charles is dead.
Blood, pumping out of a small cut from Yasmin's wrist, cut where a small shard of glass slit the skin when she smashed the bottle over Charles's head. It was different. Unfamiliar. Not like the blood that flows from between the legs or the blood from broken fragile vessels in the nose. It was heavy, mysterious, forbidden and yet strangely unspectacular. Are they severed now? Umbilical cord cut, wrenched apart. Once bound together by this nettlesome notion of blood, now it spilt into the hardwood, into the foundation of a rotten place.
Armand stood over Charles, strato. Looming death, watching its catch of the day slip out of its net. His pupils swallowed deep orange, feline, dancing over the body of its kill. Though not his kill. Charlie boy, he knew him as—bright eyes, lustrous waves, gold watches and large dagger collars. A very sharp dagger, cut knicks into girls' thighs. Wide strides he took, blanketed rooms into shadow, the girls silently slipped into the darkness, never to be seen again. They met at a gentleman's club, naturally. Armand thought even back then, he would have him. Then promptly forgot about him as soon as Hemera rose.
Yasmin sat lost in the colours. Not cold, not warm. A temperature of paralysis. Armand moved towards her and crouched down to meet her at eye level. Their eyes met, but Yasmin was not there. She was lost. She whimpered quietly, tried to speak. She blinked and met Armand's gaze.
'Is he gone?'
'Yes.'
She took in breath, which rattled the bones and sent firecrackers spitting against her temples. The heat burned through her lungs as though she had been underwater the entire time and came up for air. Her mouth slightly opened as she breathed heavily. Her chest rising and falling violently. Her body derelict. She searched in the orange and the brown. An answer as to how this could have happened.
'Armand..'
'Yes.'
'I don't want to forget.'
His long lashes brushed the top of his cheeks as he closed his eyes.
'You don't want that.'
'Yes, I do.'
'No.'
His voice was firm. Like a worn yawn from a blue-collar worker. Her brows furrowed into a frown.
'My father is dead.'
He opened his eyes. Stared at her, so innocently. So innocent, like he never heard of death and never brought it about himself. He was a cat. A warm creature, soft and mercurial. A predator, domesticated.
'I killed him. I killed my father.'
Yasmin's mouth turned mean.
'I will never forget it. I won't forget. It will live in me for the rest of my life.'
'Why remember this? Do you think it will make you some kind of martyr for his girls?'
'Fuck you!'
'You are to bear all their suffering and grievances? Cut and cut and cut until there is nothing left?'
'I have no choice! My life is over. There's nothing fucking left, I have nothing fucking left. But this! But this memory that I will bury deep into my soul. Something that I know to be real. Something fucking real! Understand me, please, please, Armand.'
She took in another sharp breath, like she had been hit in the chest. The tears came streaming down.
'You understand.'
His eyes darkened, and he turned his head from her. He focused his gaze on the father.
'Yeah, because you're not perfect. You're not even fucking human. You're a fucking killer. A murderer! Fuck you, you sanctimonious prick!'
'We've done this before, Yasmin.'
'Fuck you.'
'And then you cry out to me.'
'Fuck you.'
Armand turned and faced her again.
'You cry and cry, begging me to wipe your mind. Begging me for blood.'
'No.'
'Yes.'
'Not this time. I don't need it. I don't want it.'
'And I'll come to fix your messes again, won't I?'
'Because you owe me!'
Armand stared at her. Hard, ancient, covering a breadth of centuries. Perfumed, illustrious and monotonous. He saw the blood in her. Pumping, pumping, arousing that dark part of him, a melody, a prayer chant, thumping, with an eternal, cruel resonance.
Yasmin stared back at him. Black hair draped on his shoulders. Brow soft and regal. She thought she hated him. No. She loved him, but the love was hard, prickly. Her saviour. She was small, and she remembered, just barely, when he took her up into his arms, half-floating, amber-scented, her arms dropped over his shoulders. His lips against her skin. The little knick. Piercing into her neck. How she longed to feel that paroxysmal orgasm again. She stirred within him, ebbing back and forth in a mindless labyrinth.
Armand was there. He remembered the little girl he met on the boat. Off the Sicilian coast. Alone. He took her bloodied hand. The wound was slowly healing. He took it and brought her wrist to his lips. The bite flashed through her like lightning, her pulse hammered against the skin. She swallowed. Half-mumbled words fell out of her lips. A tightening in her vagina. Wetness. He licked the spot and held her hand for a while. Of all the men and women she had embraced, she had let have their way, or she cruelly took herself, none could ever compare to her love, her Armand.
'Do you think I'm evil?'
Armand laughed softly.
'We are all evil.'
'Isn't that bad?'
Her blood on his tongue. Washing into his memories. Did he know what was good or what was bad anymore?
'I don't know. I don't think I really care.'
He smiled at her, and she laughed. Gleaming, sparkling—they laughed together.
'Let me remember this for a while.'
'Only a while.'
'Yes.'
She closed her eyes, and he kissed her lids and then her cheeks. He stood up and walked over to Charles. He pitied him, he thinks. Rolled his body within the rug he stained. Threw him over his shoulder and walked out of the room.
Something was born then. Within Yasmin. A malevolence that would come to haunt those who met her. An incurable poison, an idol of copper. It will consume and demand more. It will engulf all in shadow, and many shall fall into it. It will bleed, her baby. The infant within her will wail and screech, and she will throttle it to sleep every night. And every night, her Armand will come to her, and she will fall into his embrace and sink her teeth into his open flesh and draw from him that sacred ambrosia and forget it all.
Sword of Shadows Chapter Twelve: No More Mister Nice Zippy is now out!
CW: Non-Consensual Blowjobs
Chapter written by both wife and I. You can read it on AO3 or Wattpad. Enjoy <3
Mirae was a normal human prior to meeting Suguru Getou. He brought something into her life that would become a part of her for good.
“They’re called curses.” He held a ball of curse energy in his hand, in front of her as they both sat in his temple. “I want to eradicate the world of them.” He held his hand for her to take the curse and to ingest it the way he does. She was unsure at first, but eventually she did do it because she’s known him long, but not long enough to really know why he’s doing all of this. After eating the curse, she threw up onto the floor and Getou comforted her some. “You’ll get used to it the more you have them, they’ll make you stronger as well Mirae.” He smiled softly at her before helping her to her feet and towards their room. “Let’s rest for the night, okay?”
“What am I to you Getou?” Mirae looked at Getou as she asked the question after he had taken a shower. Getou takes a couple of steps towards her and he kneels down to where they’re at eye level, “My beautiful hyacinth who has to bloom to its fullest potential.” He lifted her chin up and they both gazed into each other’s eyes before kissing one another on the lips. Getou truly only cared for her for the fact that she could help with bringing his plan to fruition, but then, overtime he started to actually fall for her. He started to become more affectionate towards her when they were alone and in turn also helped her with eating the curses. “Over time it’ll get easier, but for now don’t push yourself.” He kissed the top of her head and he walked away to talk to Miguel and the rest of the curse users about obtaining a powerful curse named Rika.
“We should use the girl.” Miguel looked at Getou as he suggested that knowing he may have a difference of opinion. “ We would be going up against people who know her.” Getou sighs as he thinks of Gojo, the first year students of Jujutsu Tech, and Mirae’s best friend, Tsunade. “She’s strong enough to help us Getou.” Miguel goes on to say which made him receive a look from Getou, a look of anger with the intent to kill if any more words came out of his mouth. “She is strong enough, however, there’s no reason for her to come since we’re good in numbers.” Getou stood up and he looked at Miguel. “I don’t want her to fight her old best friend, she’ll freeze up and die on the spot. Unlike us she still has a heart.” And that’s something that’s true. She was still pure at heart despite being around the likes of Getou and other curse users.
When the day arrived, he ordered for Mirae to stay behind and train to get better control over her curse energy. “How Come he took everyone, but me?” She didn’t understand why, but part of her now wished that she had stayed there instead of going after him. As she left she grabbed a sword, a curse weapon and went to find where Getou, Miguel, and everyone else had gone.
“The least you could do is curse me a little.” Getou was looking at Gojo as he spoke those words, not knowing that Mirae was nearby, having her heartbroken into several pieces.
The innocence that he tried to preserve was slowly becoming no more. “I thought that he was your friend, so how could you kill someone that you called your friend?” Tears fell down her face as she looked at Gojo. Gojo opened his mouth to calmly explain things to Mirae, but she started to attack him by utilizing thorns of flowers and of course hyacinth’s to eat up Gojo’s curse energy. “He was trying to rid of this world of curses and you took him away before he could even get more people to join the cause.” She told him and Gojo just looked at her. “Getou massacred innocent human beings who became cursed. He took their curses, and then he would kill them and then eat the curses.” He walks over to Mirae, “But he did love you a lot so much that he didn’t want you to see him like this.”
After that event, Mirae separated herself from the cult that Getou had created and she went back to working for a restaurant, well she tried to at least.
One day when she was working, she found herself being a waitress for a couple of curses who were able to hold an entire conversation, and somehow, sitting with them was Getou. She looked at him, at the stitches across his forehead and she knew that it wasn’t him no matter how hard she wanted it to be. Kenjaku, the spirit in control of Getou’s body looked at her. “You can see them can’t you?” She didn’t answer for a few minutes as she tried to figure out as to why he was sitting there in front of her. “The Suguru Getou I know wouldn’t allow it to be used like this.” She looks at before feeling the eyes of the other curses looking at her.
Jogo rolled his eyes and he went to attack her just as Mirae trapped her, Kenjaku, Jogo, and Mahito in her domain expansion. “I am a curse user, the Suguru Getou I know-he….he helped me with this and became stronger.” Mirae sighs. “But you, you’re a parasite using a dead person's body as a host to get what you want done no matter who gets hurt in the process.” She looks at Kenjaku as she says those words. “So what is your name and please don’t like me otherwise I’ll have to kill you.” She said those words effortlessly which made what she said believable. Mahito looked at her grinning from ear to ear. “You have a beautiful curse energy, what’s your name?” Mahito asks her.
“You were his pet weren’t you? Your relationship with Getou is far from what it appeared to have been on the surface.” Kenjaku walked over to her, closing the space between them both. “He was your weakness and you were his.” He touched her cheek gently before leaning in close to her ear. “From here on out, you’ll be mine.”
If any innocence did last then it was soon to be gone and replaced with emptiness.
For the ships ask: Jet/Azula if they are recovered and if they are not. Also, Tyzuko if you please
Hello Anon!
vomit / don’t ship / okay / cute / adorable / perfect / beyond flawless / hot damn / screaming and crying / i will ship them in hell
This is definitely an interesting pairing. I’m always pleasantly surprised when they pop up in fics, but I can see the appeal. Jetzula is not my top pairing but oh man, are they hot 🔥
ETA cause I forgot TyZuko:
vomit / don’t ship / okay / cute / adorable / perfect / beyond flawless / hot damn / screaming and crying / i will ship them in hell
TyZuko would actually be such a sweet pairing. I really love him and Ty Lee’s friendship, so them being a couple would be so adorable!!
Okay, honestly, I don't tend to love toxic pairings.
But can I just go with Yongjie/Xingsi. Because holy fuck stepbrothers that were raised together, as brothers, with Xingsi as nearly a parental figure.
I honestly ended up loving them anyway. What a relationship.
Hmmm, other toxic relationships I actually enjoyed?
TumTar.
... Oh, hey, look, stepbrothers! Also, love that is given but not returned? Ugh, I love it. I was SO sad that LBC2 erased them. Were they toxic and not great? Yep! But I loved them anyway.
Other toxic pairings... (Hi, I never choose just one)
I think those are the two I enjoy the most, honestly. And I think they're toxic enough for this to count? I have no idea. I enjoy certain types of fictional dysfunction in a relationship but I also really only enjoy them if they're accompanied by the fictional people enjoying them as well.
