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#but the ending felt more about power scaling. and also lucifer was there for no reason
pinkandpurple360 · 3 months
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....I just notice that that I couldn't care less about the war between Heaven and Hell xd I feel shows lose focus when they do a big "end of the world" battle when it just started as an sitcom. It can scale sure but we are on season 1- like the pilot was so fun because it had like a third of the characters in the actual show so we could see them banter with each other and shit. Sure, the way that they tackled SA was anything but good- but I feel that if it gave us more time to breath between "this character is getting horribly abused and exploited everyday" and "this other character comes and confort him....sort of" it would had felt way more coherent and well, tactful since it wasn't just threw at our faces.
The same for the overlords- I want to know MORE about Carmilla and her daughters, I want to get to know all these wacky characters in the meeting. I want to spend time with Sir Pen. I want to see what is up with Alastor and his relationship with Vox. I want for the conflict between Charlie and Vaggie to actually have time to breath before the latter breaks onto a power ballad- this shit is already Crowed with everyone in hell and when you put an timer over their heads and an upcoming war- well....what the fuck is this hotel for anyways?
I would do it like this: have Charlie work with Sir Pen as he slowly starts to get better while, in contrast, Angel starts to spiral even more: he is more snappy and withdrawal than usual, hence his little glance at Sir Pen at the first episode- he low-key wants to get better but it's kind of hard to be a decent member of society when you are trapped in a cycle of abuse, explotation and self-destruction. Have this camera pans of Husk noticing the change but not saying anything; have these scenes of Alastor disappearing to meet with his fellow overlords; get to actually know them- have them show Camilla and her daughters. Leave the dead angel to the end of the season when we already know why this woman would do such a thing. Have Velvette suspicious of her-etc. etc. etc.
Then in the second season introduce Heaven and Lucifer. Also explain how contracts work so by the mid-season they can work in breaking's Angel and dealing with Valentino, while Charlie vs Heaven and Lucifer is happening in juxtaposition with the other members of the hotel actually making an conscious effort to be civilized without her precense- with Vaggie's lead. That way when it's revealed that Heaven DON'T want them it would actually be heartbreaking because we were seeing they were willing to put the effort.
It's not perfect but I think that having time to breathe would help with the mood swings this show has and give us time to actually sit down and know these characters, no to mention make the more serious topics (*ahem* Angel's abuse, Carmilla dealing with so much responsibility as a single mother- Seriously I can't even get over how these things are being handled- you finally gave me a reason to actually pity one of Viv's blorbos and we got that fucking song? And Camilla has such a soothing, powerful precense and strong motivations (and a beatiful singing voice)- I want to KNOW HER GODDAMN IT) more digestible.
But that is just my idea.
I actually love your ideas much more.
The root of this problem is making the story hinge on grand stakes instead of personal stakes, the latter is much more empathetic. In the pilot I felt like Charlie cared about her people, she was reserved with the occasional moment of excitement which is what made it endearing. Back then, it was nothing to do with the exterminators or anything. It was just better.
That moment in the pilot when she says “you all have good inside you, I know you do” right before she sings? I really felt that. When she says she can’t stand to see her people being slaughtered every year,I believe her. And the mystery of if her people can be redeemed and look inward to be better? That is much more interesting than if they can annihilate heavens soldiers, unveil the deep conspiracy, find the root of all evil!!! Like no..calm down. Personal is better.
I’m completely of the view that hazbin hotel would have been a better show if they stayed on YouTube. Maintained a balanced writing team where Viv doesn’t grab “the reins” all the time. Stay community and friendship focused not grand success focussed. And it goes without saying, kept the cast. Maybe splurge on the occasional broadway guest star for a season finale or something. They can manage that in HB just fine.
The Adam scene was fun but doesn’t him refusing to let sinners climb on principle not just obliterate Charlie’s dream? It removes all nuance and mystery to me. So now I don’t really care a whole lot. And it seems like Charlie going to war with heaven is something her original self would never ever want to happen?? That’s like the ultimate extermination event. And to what end? Why do it?
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rotomcity · 3 years
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if i think too long about supernatural's general cosmic world building SPECIFICALLY with the relationship between death, the empty, the darkness, and the light, i start to crack like glass. it just feels like there is something there that could have been so much more interesting then what we got.
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obae-me · 4 years
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Hi sweetheart! I was wondering if I could request for a headcannon about Solomon casting a spell and suddenly all the brothers turn into lil smol kids? and how would MC take care of/interact with them? I just neeeeeed some fluff in my life, and the idea of tiny demons makes my heart explode. hope you have a great week! ♥️
Hi, thank you for this request, I had to write it immediately. The fluff, the softness, it’s exactly what I needed to write today, I hope this is good fluff for you! 💜
There’s a bit of exposition because I had some strong creativity for it, after it is the Headcanons!
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“So what exactly is this supposed to do again?” MC asked, watching as Solomon sprinkled some strange herbs and unknown ingredients into a large glass beaker, occasionally muttering a few words and casting spells while the mixture sparkled. They were both in MC’s room, Solomon teaching them some spells and magic in exchange for some quality time together.
“It’s a youth potion,” Solomon explained. “I used to make it for other humans. The elderly used my diluted versions to help with pain or memory. However…” He dumped an entire jar of some sort of sickly pulsating liquid that had the same rainbowy shimmer that spilled oil had. “Demons don’t typically age the same way humans do, so sometimes they ask me for this so they can blend in with children. However, diluted versions won’t affect anything down here. So be careful. One wrong drop on you and it won’t be pleasant.” He watched as the contents in the container started to condense and squeeze through a tube before landing in a little glass bottle. Solomon tightly shoved a cork into it’s opening and then closed his eyes, chanting a spell. What had been a gross metallic color was now a perfect clear concoction, little sparkling bubbles endlessly fizzing throughout. “And there you have it.” He smirked, flipping the bottle in the air before catching it perfectly, putting it in one of his pants pockets. With a wave of his hand, all of his stuff that he had used to make the potion vanished.
MC shook their head. “This wasn’t exactly what I thought we would be doing when you said you were going to come over and show me magic. I’d lie if I said it wasn’t cool, though.” They went over and opened their bedroom door, Solomon following them out into the hallway. “Can I come deliver it with you?”
“You know how dangerous my drop-offs can be, can you show me that you’ve perfected that defensive spell I taught you last week?” Solomon looked down at them with a smile, hand curled around his chin. MC sighed, they weren’t even nearly close to casting that spell well, much less perfectly. Solomon apologized with a laugh as they both headed down the stairs to the front entrance.
“Oi, you done fooling around with MC yet?” They both saw Mammon leaned against the wall as he watched the stairs, a scowl on his face. Ever since the sorcerer had been coming more often to see MC, Mammon had been much more hostile towards him. Solomon didn’t mind, in fact he got a rise out of seeing Mammon get so jealous.
“Yes, Mammon, I’m just about to leave.”
Mammon grinned and swung the doors wide open, gesturing for Solomon to get out. “Great, here’s the door, bye now!”
Solomon looked at MC with a smile, bringing them close into a hug, squinting at Mammon over their shoulder as he soaked in the look Mammon had on his face. He pulled apart and MC was none the wiser on their interaction behind their back. “Wish me luck with the drop-off.”
MC exclaimed to him how they wished him all the luck in the three realms, and Mammon moved out of his way to personally bump shoulders with Solomon as he made his way out the door. Neither of the humans had noticed Mammon’s pickpocketing skills as he slipped an important small bottle into his own pocket.
***
“Is there any particular reason why you’re not eating?” Lucifer questioned, watching MC play with their food instead of eating it.
MC snapped out of a little daze, bringing a halt to shoving around their meal with their fork. “Ah, oh, I guess I’m just thinking about something.”
Mammon growled. “What you don’t want to taste the food I slaved over making for everyone today?” He opened his mouth, probably to say something snarky about Solomon, but Satan interrupted him.
“Speaking of what you made, what did you put in it? It’s making me awfully nostalgic. I can’t help but think of meals from centuries ago.” He said it with a slight smile on his face. All of the brothers minus Lucifer voiced their agreement. Whatever it was, it brought back sweet memories, some of them going back and forth between stories of what being first created was like. MC leaned back in their chair, trying to comprehend what it would be like to just...exist fully without having to go through childhood.
Mammon grinned, one hand on his hips. “See I knew it would be great, and it’s all thanks to my genius.” He pulled something out of his pocket, holding it between his fingers as he waved it around in the air. “I knew whatever that sketchy sorcerer had on him had to be good.” MC’s body froze, eyes focused on the bottle Mammon possessed, the same size and style of the one Solomon had put in his pocket. The only difference was the contents were missing.
MC opened their mouth, ready to demand that everyone stop eating, but unfortunately it was already too late. The only thing Mammon had done perfectly was time his reveal right before the potion went into effect, all the brothers bowling over and collapsing to the ground. Their clothes and bodies magically shifting into miniature versions of themselves.
Lucifer
He was the first to get up, taking in the now larger scale of everything around him. Noticing especially how MC was on their knees beside him and yet was at the same height level. He felt the lungs in his chest tighten, now looking at his younger brothers, who...were now all exceptionally young. All looking like humans did at around the age of five. He screamed Mammon’s name, but cut himself off short when he heard what his voice sounded like now, his small hands cupping his own throat. He looked at MC once more, seeing the reflection of his child-like body in their eyes. His pride might as well have been shattered on the ground. Before he was seen in this embarrassing state any further, he sped off to his room.
He did his best to prevent MC from following him into his bedroom by leaning into the door with his own body. He was even more crushed to find not only did he not have most of his power, but he was extremely weak and vulnerable. Not to mention he was feeling raw emotions. He would control himself, he had to control himself. When MC came into the room they saw him standing there with his best attempt at a death glare, arms folded across his tiny red vest.
It didn’t do nearly what he wanted it to. MC saw the small Lucifer, his usually sharp-edged face now covered in soft curves, his piercing eyes now hidden behind floppy hair too big for his head. He didn’t even seem to realise his lips were in a strong pout. MC almost felt like crying looking at him, and they stifled a laugh.
Being laughed at was the final cut at his pride already barely hanging on by a flimsy string. This form he had now was unable to control emotions like his typical body could. Big tears started rolling down his face as he ran towards MC, his only thought being comfort.
“Don’t laugh at me! Change me back!” He wailed. MC scooped him up in their arms, apologizing deeply about laughing. They pet his small head, feeling two nubs poking out from under his hair where he usually had his horns when he was in demon form. Once he let all of his emotions out, he dried his own eyes and calmed down.
His new state didn’t keep him from being any less bossy, standing there, barely up to MC’s waist, head held high as he continued to try to tell MC and his brothers what to do. He didn’t like having MC be the head of the house, at all, even though they now had to take care of all of them. If MC has to tell him to stop hitting Mammon or go to bed, he’ll usually throw a tantrum. He will not be told what to do, he’s not a child, he’s not! MC takes this time to give the Prideful First-born Demon a scolding, and after the first few times he’s forced to sit in timeout, he begrudgingly obeys MC for the rest of the curse.
He’ll do his best as the older brother to help MC take care of everyone, but he’ll end up being one of the most needy. He’ll follow MC around, copying them, doing exactly what they’re doing. If MC tells one of the brothers to do something, he’ll repeat them, doing the same gesture in order to regain a more authoritative status. He likes to also stand on tables and chairs, he needs to be above everyone.
Until he’s back to normal, MC puts him to bed at the same time every night, helping him change into smaller versions of his PJ's (delivered thanks to Diavolo). The only way he can fall asleep is if MC sings old lullabies he hasn’t heard in millennia.
Mammon
When he woke up, he didn’t really comprehend the new change in his form. He was blind to the fact that he had accidentally turned himself and his brothers into children. He still wasn’t done feeling angry about Solomon, being greedy over who MC spends their time with. When he saw MC, he strutted up to them, not understanding that MC now towered over him. He put his hands on his hips, chewing MC out for hanging out with the sorcerer. His filter in his childish state was even worse, almost nonexistent, and he called Solomon by words that should not be coming out of any tiny mouth.
“Mammon!”
Hearing that almost degrading stern tone coming from MC made him stop in his tracks. He tilted his head back to look up at them. Since when did he have to look up that much? Since when had the furniture in his home been so big? He looked around at the other little chaotic bodies in the room, finally connecting that the little tykes were his brothers. He grabbed the bottom of MC’s shirt.
“What did Solomon do to us?!”
“Solomon didn’t do anything, did you steal his potion?” MC had their arms folded like a much too familiar older brother of his, looking at him with a frown. They sounded...disappointed. He started to blink away moisture he didn’t comprehend was tears. MC had to repeat themselves. “Mammon, did you steal from Solomon, yes or no?” He stuttered out a quiet yes, looking down at the floor.
MC rubbed the sides of his little arms and turned him around to look at the rest of his siblings who seemed to be waiting. Most of them looked angry, ready to beat Mammon down with their tiny fists, but MC ordered them all to stay there and listen. If it weren’t for the fact that somehow now MC seemed much scarier, they wouldn't be obedient. MC told Mammon to apologize to them since he got them all in this predicament in the first place. He stood there for a long time, doing his best to bribe his way out of the situation, but MC wouldn’t budge. When he finally said his sorries, he did so with a waterfall of tears, turning and crying into MC’s leg, explaining that he only did this because he didn’t want Solomon to steal MC away anymore.
During the time they’re all affected, MC realizes exactly why Lucifer is always so hard on Mammon. He just never stops. He’s a ball of energy, always getting into something, always leaving a mess wherever he goes. MC has their hands full just keeping up with him.
He never wants to share toys with his brothers, and MC oftentimes has to get everyone something of their own so Mammon doesn’t steal. He also somehow got into MCs phone and used their information to buy several things off of Akuzon. MC punished him by locking away all his toys. It didn’t last long, however, because Mammon kept whimpering, fluttering his long eyelashes over his big shimmering gold-speckled eyes. He’d endlessly call MC’s name over and over again, cuddling into them and begging for his stuff back. Just his soft adorable face alone could get MC to give him anything he wanted.
Mammon is always with MC, and he’ll get angry over anyone who wants to play with them. He wanted them! He did! The only reason why this happened was because he wanted to be with them. So he didn’t want anyone else around.
MC puts him to sleep by rubbing his back over his little fragile wings and sings sleepy songs about the stuff they’ll buy for him.
Levi
He was absolutely mortified. It took him awhile just to get to his feet, he was shaking so badly with embarrassment. As if he wasn’t already self conscious enough, now he was...he was. He snuck away and hid while MC was distracted with his six other insane brothers. He didn’t want to be like that, he didn’t want to be a bother. He didn’t want to be a needy child! And yet he could feel his tiny body filled with Envy. The way MC was holding, coddling, and taking care of everyone else, why weren’t they doing that for him?
When MC went looking for him, they followed the sound of small sniffles. It wouldn’t have been hard to find him anyway, since his big hiding place was in the comfort of his room. He was huddled under his gaming desk, clutching a Ruri-chan plushie to his cheek, speckled in his tears. When MC called his name he scattered to another corner of his room, pulling his tiny hood over his tiny face. He wanted to get into his tub-bed, but he couldn’t even pull himself in.
“Levi, do you want to tell me why you’re upset?”
He shook his head vigorously, managing to make himself seem so small he was hidden behind the plushie he was gripping. He didn’t seem to want to speak so MC had to play the guessing game. He wasn’t upset over Mammon, he wasn’t upset at anyone else, and then when MC asked if he was upset about himself, he got real quiet. MC consoled him by telling him this was a temporary setback, something akin to the shows he watches. It was just a filler episode, not a major plot point, so he had nothing to worry about. Normally this would’ve helped cheer him up just fine, but it wasn’t enough, so MC had to bribe him out of hiding by telling him they would watch all the shows he wanted until he was better.
When he came out, he rushed to them, burying his face in their clothes and cried so hard he gave himself the hiccups. MC was confused, thinking that they were trying their best to convince him to feel better, not to sob. MC did their best to make him feel better, rocking back and forth with him in their arms, rubbing his back, even turning on his consoles so he could play. He only felt satisfied when he thought he was getting the same amount of attention his brothers were getting.
He’s the biggest crybaby and the epitome of the “it’s not fair” child. If Mammon has more toys than him, he’s going to cry. If MC tells him he has to go to his room, he’s going to cry. If Beel ends up eating some of his food, yep, he’s going to cry. MC has a panic attack over how dehydrated this kid is going to be and has to constantly give him water to drink.
The only time he’s relatively happy is when MC has him in their lap as they hang out in his room, playing a game or watching a show. The best way to get him to sleep is to put on a documentary. Puts him out like a light.
Satan
When he woke up, it was like all hell had broken loose, and that could mean either figuratively or literally at this point. He was a tiny ball of rage. No later than five seconds of consciousness before he was on top of Mammon ready to kill him for turning them all to kids. He was definitely that kid who solved problems with fights. MC had to quickly rush over and pick him up only to have Satan kicking, punching, and screaming. He flailed in their arms, and MC had to drag him into a private room to quickly get things straight.
“I know this is inconvenient, and I know you’re angry, but no kicking, no punching, I don’t want to see you lay a hand on anyone, understand?”
He did understand, logically, but no matter what he tried telling his brain, his body didn’t want to follow. Even as his normal self it was hard keeping all that anger under control, and now as this...this...thing he was, all he wanted to do was scream. So scream he did, he shrieked for hours, MC doing their best to keep him safe as he tore up and almost destroyed his own room. He yelled so loudly for so long he lost his voice, resorting then to something he didn’t know was an option. Angry tears.
He took the bottom of his small green shirt and balled it up in his hands, looking confused as wet drops fell from his face. His voice now gone, all that was left was squeaks as his tiny frame started to shudder. He let MC hold him tight as he cried, scrunching up the fabric of their clothes tightly as all the pent up emotion he usually kept inside him had no choice but to keep flooding out of his eyes. MC shushed him, trying to tell him that this was an experience that would benefit his education and curiosity.
It took him a long long time to calm down, but when he did, his demeanor was similar to the one MC was most used to, the quiet curious Satan. Occasionally MC did have to keep him from losing his temper, doing their best to not have to scream at the small demon for having knives or breaking things. But most of the time he read books, books that were too big for his now smaller hands to hold. He either had the book wide open in his lap, or he had MC hold it for him as he sat in their lap. MC adored how he would tilt his head back against their chest, looking at them while politely asking them to turn the page. On the rare occasion, sometimes MC would find Satan outside, using a stick to pick at bugs in the dirt, watching how they move. They would’ve almost found it cute till they realized he was using them to fight to the death. MC monitors him anytime he’s outside now.
He’s the hardest to get to sleep, he’s always asking MC endless questions. MC is never sure if he’s testing their knowledge or asking them in earnest. Either way, it’s always way too late in the night for wondering what the world would be like if giraffes were as popular as a common household cat. He always needs a warm hot chocolate, a boring book, and MC’s angelic patience before he’ll finally drift to sleep.
Asmo
When he regains consciousness and looks at himself in the mirror after the event, he cannot get over how adorable he is. He looks so squeezable and huggable. But then...he feels...hollow? While all the other sins are things that are easily available as kids, his...is gone. He’s missing those...adult urges he’s so used to feeling. His normal burning desire, his flirtation, his charm, all vanished along with his adult appearance. He almost takes this harder than Lucifer. He’s not sure how to act, how to feel, his whole life in the Devildom was driven around his core sin.
MC is infinitely concerned when Asmo doesn’t smile, doesn’t speak, doesn’t know how to, well, how to do anything. They do their best to cheer him up with the other things he loves. They dress him up in adorable clothes, they pet his head and tell him how cute he is, but this is enormously hard for him. The typically boisterous Asmo was now nonchalant.
It takes a while for MC to convince him that he is Asmo, he is not his sin. He might be more easily persuaded by it, but that’s not all there is to him. They hold his whole tiny face in their hands, thumbs rubbing his wet cheeks dry. They tell him they miss his bubbly nature, his cute voice, his endless compliments, his sweet disposition. They want Asmo back. This little speech with added cuddles brings Asmo back for the most part.
He’s the sweetest little kid MC has ever met. He’s always cheering his brothers up, pulling off doll fashion shows, and making sure MC feels appreciated. He wants to be in their arms almost 24/7, wanting to be carted around if MC can manage. This whole experience causes him to feel something in his chest that makes him feel a kind of warm and fuzzy that he’s never felt before. It’s not lust...but something sweeter, more innocent and he’s not sure what to call it.
MC almost was going to reward him for being the best kid in the household till they spent hours helping him get clean after he did his best to do a spectacular makeover. He was unaware of how hard it was to maneuver these bodies, and now his face and room was a mess. MC was just thankful that the mess was on him and he didn’t attempt to give MC the makeover.
Asmo will only sleep with MC holding him. Something about the cold darkness of his room when he’s alone makes him panic. He likes being able to feel comforted, hearing MC’s heartbeat while they work on smothering him in adorable chaste kisses, his little giggles adorably addicting. That same warm feeling in his heart letting him feel comfortable enough to shut his eyes and get some rest.
Beel
He woke up holding onto Belphie’s hand only to find that the hand he was holding was much smaller than he remembered. Upon further discovery, all of Belphie was much smaller than he remembered. It takes him a few minutes to connect the dots since he was getting distracted on the food still on the dinner table, but once he figures it out, he just blinks. He’s the only one fairly calm about it. Sure he’s upset, but he likes to be an optimist, and by being this small, all his portions of food are all that much bigger.
His size does end up being an inconvenience for him, though. Most of his favorite snacks are high on the shelves in hard to reach cupboards. Not to mention now MC refuses to let him near the stove, so he can’t cook himself anything. He eats more than any human child should and yet he feels like he’s starving.
He can’t help but run to MC and softly beg for more snacks, gently tugging on their clothes. Most of the time, MC obliges, petting his soft red hair while he eats his food and lets his legs dangle off the edge of his seat. Until he starts letting his gluttony take over and steals his sibling’s snacks.
MC tried punishing him by taking away dessert privileges that night, not knowing what kind of monster they unleashed when they told him no. His shining eyes went darker, and the best mannered kid MC knew went sour in a heartbeat. He threw a massive demonic tantrum, screaming, throwing food and plates, causing MC to break down and give him what he wanted, drying his tears with an exasperated sigh while they now had to clean up broken glass and wipe down the entire kitchen.
He was the easiest to take care of in every other aspect, though, as long as he wasn’t denied food. He’d help MC and Lucifer watch his brothers, breaking up fights and comforting them when they cry. He would squeeze each of them tightly, as supportive as ever. He would even still do his best to protect MC in his state. Even as tiny as he was he still put his whole body into his hugs, acting like MC wasn’t now twice the size he was. He would clean up his messes without MC having to ask, and he’d go to bed as long as he had a bedtime snack and a glass of warm milk. He’d insist on tucking Belphie into bed, and then sweetly wish MC goodnight.
Belphie
He took forever to wake up, almost giving MC a heart attack wondering if he had been put into some sort of infantile coma. He eventually got up, opening his eyes to himself in MC’s arms. He wasn’t going to complain, they were very comfortable. When he realized he now resembled a small child...he was too tired to complain. He never did anything different from his normal form anyway. Sleep, eat if he needed to, be highly slothful and irritated. He was so similar to his usual mood, it amused MC greatly. They didn’t want to say that this meant he was always a baby but...the facts were right in front of them.
Adult, child, it didn’t matter, he was going to be monotone, demanding, and sleep as much as possible. In fact, now that he didn’t have responsibilities and Lucifer breathing down his neck, he was sleeping more than usual, and he demanded that MC carry him. If he was awake and MC ever put him down, he would cry until he got picked back up, comfortably against MC’s hip, face nestled in MC’s neck. It makes it so much harder for MC to get stuff done, but they can’t give up the feeling of his little eyelashes and bangs brushing against their skin, the smallest hint of a smile in the corners of his mouth. Plus, if they do anything he doesn’t like, he’ll pull on their hair, so it's best to keep him happy.
The first night they had changed, MC put Belphie in his own bed, tucked him in and wished him sweet dreams, and once they were sure all the brothers were asleep, they went to their room and went to bed for the night, absolutely exhausted. Not even an hour after they went to bed, they felt a large weight on their body. They opened their eyes and saw Belphie, his skin shining in the moonlight from tears.
“Bad dream?”
He nodded, making a small sniffling noise. MC lifted up the blankets, letting him crawl in. He got close to them, keeping the fabric of their pajamas in a death grip. MC put their arm around him, making him feel safe and sleepy. He dried his tears and shut his eyes, not having any nightmares during the night.
Only, now, he won’t go to sleep in his own bed, it has to be with MC. Of course, this makes all the brothers jealous, and so after one night of some semblance of peace is resulted in seven little demon brothers all bundled up close together, each needy for MC’s warmth and attention.
After
It was an entire week before Solomon came back with the completed antidote for the potion. It tasted disgusting, and MC and Solomon had to wrangle all the demons, holding them down to get them to take it. It was surprising after all their frustration towards their position that they would be hesitant to return to normal.
After they’re back in their normal bodies, each of them are as red as tomatoes, looking at the floor instead of MC’s face. None of them will mention what happened, even if MC tries to tease them about it, they act like they have amnesia. None of them remember all the photos that MC had taken of them, nor do they know about all the ones they’ve shared to Diavolo.
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Afterstory (Diavolo)
Arc 3: The Cursed Witch Seduces the Wild Prince
@karmaaf @mac-the-oregonian @imagine-my-hero-and-vills @lady-naho @viptrash @cinnamon-bisquit xxnio-chanxx @pen-observing I wanna be friends with you, too <3 
“Princess … ”
Diavolo cradled your body closer to him. Your warmth seeped out with each second. Stale blood dripped from your wounds.
Diavolo chuckled drily.
Those gentle hands that would pat his head, the calloused but lovely fingers that drove him crazy with each touch--he will never feel them again.
Chuckling became laughing.
His flames blazed brighter and pitch-black smoke rose from earth. Rising higher into the sky, Diavolo’s wings grew and stretched so far they covered the sun and engulfed the city in darkness. From his flames swung out a tail with scarlet scales. It swept across the buildings, killing hundreds and destroying everything.
“Beast!” The humans screamed. “The witch summoned a beast!”
“Witch?” Diavolo repeated.
His maniacal laugh thundered throughout the city.
“You killed her for that?” The woman he loved was a soul who would never use her magic selfishly. You never turned away a patient even when they disrespected you.
The red dragon tenderly gazed at the lifeless body in his hand.
The skin had lost its vigor, scratches covered your face, and the arms …
How long did you suffer? How much did you suffer?
If only … if only he stayed with her.
“Unholy beast!”
Diavolo’s thoughts were interrupted when the human soldiers started shooting arrows at him. One arrow flew past his claws and almost hit your corpse.
The red dragon roared into the sky.
The large city that once bustled with life was reduced to ashes in less than half a day.
Diavolo flew back to your home. When he found the squatters wearing your clothes and the kids trampling the flowers you adored, he almost sent them to the next life. But he sensed the mana that radiated from them. It was your mana.
“Take off the clothes that aren’t yours and leave behind what belongs in this house,” he ordered with glowing eyes.
There were a foolish few who disobeyed by pocketing a ruby Diavolo gifted. They were two kids, the ones who threw rocks at you--
Half their faces were melted off.
“A saint touched your souls so I won’t kill you,” Diavolo said. “But don’t test my patience.”
The refugees ran for the mountains and Diavolo was left alone.
“I’m here,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. “I’m right here, princess, so come back soon … ”
Gabriel and Lilith arrived a few weeks later. They’ve only now just heard the news.
Shock didn’t begin to describe what they felt at the scene that welcomed them.
Your humble mud house was transformed into a wooden cottage. The tiny patch of soil you proudly called a garden was bigger, lining the side of the river with herbs and flowers and other plants.
Life seemed to overflow
Gabriel barged inside the cottage.
The crown prince of hell sat on the edge of a bed. He was wiping the feet of a corpse, his eyes full of mad love while telling a story about how big the pomegranates were.
“I promise I didn’t use any magic. When you wake up, let’s make some dessert with them--”
A fist flew and Diavolo landed on the ground.
“You crazy … ” Gabriel’s chest heaved. He didn’t even know where to begin.
Luckily, Lilith was there. She patted his shoulder before approaching the prince. “Cousin, this is wrong.”
Diavolo lifted his head, eyes empty before focusing on Lilith. He grinned mechanically. “Oh, I didn’t notice you coming in.”
The angels exchanged glances.
“Do you like the house? I built it myself.”
“Diavolo--”
“I was giving princess a bath, she’s so spoiled--”
“Diavolo,” Lilith cut him off. “Diavolo, MC is dead.”
“She’s sleeping, Lilith. She can’t be dead, she’s going to be the queen of hell. We promised we’d be together so there’s no way she’s dead.”
“Oy,” Gabriel stepped forward, glaring at the prince. “Stop running away from this, bastard. MC is dead. She’s gone.”
“Gone,” Diavolo repeated with a whisper.
Your soul was gone.
Your soul was gone.
Your soul was gone.
But that’s not possible. When you became one, he reinforced his seal so you would be bound to him forever. But your soul was gone. You weren’t just dead, your soul was gone. He couldn’t feel it anymore. Your soul vanished like a whisper in the wind.
Gone--
You were gone.
Diavolo clawed at his chest, cutting skin and drawing blood. His insides twisted. He buckled down and threw up.
“Right--” He croaked as angry fat, angry tears blurred his vision. He pulled on his hair. “She’s gone. She’s gone … Even Barbatos said her soul … she’s gone.”
“Do you think that’s true?” Lilith knelt down and looked straight into his eyes. “Diavolo, think again.”
“A soul is immortal. She may be lost,” Gabriel said. “But she’s not irretrievable. And when she comes back is this how you want to greet her?” He gestured at the ice-cold body.
Diavolo chuckled wearily. “What do you know?”
“I know that you didn’t deserve her--”
“Gabriel--” Lilith tried to calm him down again but he shrugged her off.
“--I know that she deserves more than a pathetic, sobbing mess who avoids responsibility.”
The demon prince couldn’t bring himself to retort. Gabriel was right, he was pathetic.
“I know this doesn’t sound much from an uncultured girl like me but … but I want to work together with you. I want to be a partner who can help you with your problems.”
Your words echoed in the back of his mind and Diavolo laughed again. With a tearful smile, he looked out the window and into the clear morning sky.
“You win, princess. You always win.”
Meanwhile, in a roofless room surrounded by stars and with walls that stretched so far you could not see the end, two men played a game of chess.
The one who held an ebony pawn sighed. It was King Drakul of Devildom.
His opponent, a man with greying hair crudely dyed purple at the tips, quirked an eyebrow. “Something wrong, old friend?”
“I was just thinking--it’s very hard being a father.”
“Oh.” His opponent nodded in agreement. “I feel ya. Lately, Lili has taken an interest in the human realm and Levi…the one with the bowl haircut keeps messing with the time warps. He’s already reading literature that shouldn’t be in existence yet.”
“First of all, their names are Lilith and Leviathan. Secondly, my case is different from yours. Diavolo--”
“It’s about time Diavolo fixes his behavior.”
“I suppose … ”
“Cheer up, Drakul. Our plan worked, or rather, it’s going to work. Ain’t that right, Barbatos?”
Barbatos appeared with a burst of green smoke. He refilled their teacups. “You are correct, Lord God.”
Drakul sighed again.
“Hey now, you can’t start regretting it now,” said Lord God. “I went AWOL for an extra five thousand years just for this moment.”
He disappeared for millenia, causing conflict among the angels, and then arrived in time to stop a full-scale war. Not to mention, he had to create a random body and puppeteer it from the sidelines while waiting for a Host.
“You can’t soften up now. Otherwise all that effort to educate Diavolo would have gone to waste. Think of those poor souls who failed and got sent to punishment worlds because of him, think of those humans he killed when he went feral the other day--think of how many loops Barbatos has gone through--and the beating Diavolo almost gave him!” Lord God dropped a sugar cube into his cup.
“I know, I know … But those 2430 souls are on you. You could easily have asked Barbatos who would be the successful Host.”
“You know I don’t roll like that. It’s boring to know everything—why do ya think I sealed away my powers?” Lord God added another sugar cube. “Ah, speaking of, what do you think of my newest recruit? The second genius I’ve encountered since I started this gig.”
“Hm, let’s see.” Drakul grabbed a flower-shaped cookie. “Sharp-witted, competent and ruthless. I say, they’d be an excellent queen.”
Lord God spat out his tea. “You can’t--cough--you can’t be serious.”
“You can't deny that there is a possibility." He turned to his butler. "Right, Barbatos?”
A mysterious look ghosted over Barbato's eyes, then he grinned subserviently. “It is as you say, sire.”
Author’s note:
If you know me from Tumblr then you already know that I have this headcanon: In the past Diavolo was a wild, rebellious blood knight but now he is desperate to maintain peace in the three realms because he fell in love with a human in the past and patiently waits for her reincarnation so he can welcome her as his queen. Also, he's only the crown prince in the Obey Me! storyline because he refuses to become king without his beloved.
Man, I know I poke fun at him for being a reckless idiot in the story, but damn.
And imagine all the crap he deals with for uniting the three realms--all that effort for a soul who didn’t even look back when she left. 🤧
(To have that kind of power on a man... Ate MC, paturo naman po. Charot lang. We must aspire to be good people haha)
Oh, and by the way--
I would like to clarify something since you guys keep making so many conspiracy theories.
Regarding the characters from the fictional worlds and the real world:
The Obey Me! Characters that manifest in the fictional worlds are treated as separate entities from those in the Real World. E.g. Lucifer from the CEO’s arc is different from the Lucifer in Diavolo’s arc/Real World, so if the same character appears twice, our MC will not compare their names, appearances, etc. Think of it as a perception filter. However, you can say that they are still connected because they are alternative selves of each other. So residual affections felt by CEO!Lucifer will be felt by Real World!Lucifer.
What was the third party interference at the end?
Unless the above story wasn't clear enough, the interference was Diavolo. 
Will MC have a harem?
Who knows.
Hope that makes things clear :D
(And please keep up with the praise, this madam would sell her firstborn for more praises from you guys.)
Until the next arc, my dear readers!
152 notes · View notes
jungkookiebus · 4 years
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Hellblazer Final | jjk
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Genre: demon!au, smut, some angst, fluff (???) Rating: 18+ Pairing: demon!jungkook x FemConstantine!reader ft. Beezlebub!Hobi (briefly) Word Count: 5.9k Warnings: dom!jungkook, mentions of suicide (brought up previously), oral (f receiving), lots of bodily fluids, light breath play, unprotected sex, ass play, there is a blood ritual of sorts (use of a knife to cut hand for said ritual), more of Jungkook’s body parts warm up (yes, his cock does it again).
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“You're quite alone. I'm... well, I'm just like everything else around here. Just like you, really. Just another dream becoming a nightmare.” -John Constantine, Prime Earth
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You awoke again, not even realizing that you had fallen asleep. This time he was gone. The space beside you was cold and vacant. You sat up, groaning, because you felt like you had the shit beat out of you. But for some reason, you had never felt better. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed you softly slipped down off it. You kept a steadying hand on the bed because being in bed for months did you no favors but you had a nagging feeling that the short amount of time you seemed to be here, he was healing you a lot faster.
The room was warmed by the fire and you noticed the spear was gone. Looking around, this room wasn’t unlike others, minus the grey cast, and there was no clear indication you were even in Hell. Except for the feeling. Hell had a way of feeling different.
Trying the door handle, it gave way easily, swinging open with no sound at all. The hallway beyond was just as dark and lit with candles that were melting around the twisted metal. The soft, grey glow barely illuminated to the middle of the hallway. The floor was lined with expensive rugs that protected the black, shiny wood beneath. Hideous portraits and scenes lined the walls. Many seemed to be sneering at you from the darkness. There were no sounds, which made it all the eerier. There was no draft, no distant conversation, or the occasional scream. One end of the hall curved towards the right, so you decided to take that direction since the other way was lined with doors that seemed to stretch on for forever. There were many illusions in Hell because you had encountered them. You didn’t think the House of Satan would be any different. Moving slowly, you kept to the carpet and tried not to look at the pictures on the walls. As you made the curve in the hallway you saw it open wide on the left into what appeared to be a very large room. From where you were you saw bookshelves lining the walls and you heard what sounded like a very large fire burning. You approached even slower as you looked around the corner. The room seemed to be a large sitting room and library with a very large fireplace. The sculptures on it were ornate; large golden serpents twisted amongst the branches of an apple tree and above that in stone was a visage of purgatory. Someone was sitting on a long leather couch, back to you, and engrossed in a book. He appeared to be in a suit, hair meticulously done, and slicked back with an undercut. When his hand came up to turn the page you recognized a very familiar tattoo you had seen on numerous occasions. You stepped into the room with a little more confidence now.
“Hello, Bee.” You tried to sound confident, but your voice came out in a croak.
He turned around smoothly as if he expected you to be there and narrowed his eyes at you.
“He let you out?” he chuckled.
“I woke up alone, so I walked out.”
He clicked his tongue and whistled before turning back to his book.
“He won’t be too happy about that,” he said as he crossed his leg over the other and picked the book back up closer to his face.
“Bee, what’s going on?”
He sighed as he sat the book back down on the couch.
“Why do I engage you ever, Hellblazer?”
“Because you’re my favorite Prince,” you said jokingly.
He had up until you met him, been your favorite. He was the only one you could hold a civil conversation with when it came to your dealings in Hell. He didn’t seem to hold as much disdain for you as everyone else did.
“Sit down.”
“And where is everyone?”
“You say that as if you live here and this place is usually bustling with life. I can assure you that this place is just as hopeless as it looks. Abandon all hope and whatever else.” He said it flippantly and with a wave of a hand as if he were bored of the subject. “Hellblazer, there is a war happening. He’s taken the General for his own and is using his military power to control his armies.”
“Heaven won’t stand a chance against him.”
“That’s the point.”
“So, why am I here?”
He screwed his face up as he looked at you like you had grown an extra head.
“How should I know? I thought maybe he was just playing with his food.”
You hadn’t thought of that. But why keep you alive and heal you? There must be some reason he was doing all of this.
“Not all of Heaven can be taken out of a celestial being.”
“Excuse me?”
“If he does what I think he’s gonna do, then you’ll see.” He winked at you as he picked up his book once more. “You’ll probably want to get back to his room before he gets back.”
You tried to bore holes into the side of his head with your eyes, but you knew he wasn’t going to relent and give you any more information. Huffing, you stood from the couch, and left him to his reading. When you rounded the curve this time, the hallway didn’t stretch into infinity, but made a ninety degree turn to the left a few doors down from his room. Yet another illusion to throw off any would be intruders. You slipped back into the room to find it just as you had left it.
With nothing to do but wait, you fell back on the bed and resigned yourself to staring at the velvet drapes of the four poster bed. Just when you felt yourself slipping into sleep, the air pressure in the room changed as the door was opened. You sat up suddenly to see who was in the room with you when you saw him. He was adorned in golden armor, it looked so thin yet impenetrable, as it laid over itself almost like a dragon scale pattern. The breastplate was adorned in filigree and gems that caught the light of the fireplace and made him shine in the dull light. The golden spear was grasped firmly in his right hand and planted on the floor.
“I see you feel better,” he finally spoke. “Are you hungry?”
Your stomach growled at the suggestion of food. He laughed as he pointed behind you and beyond into the room. You turned to see a table laden with food that hadn’t been there before.
“Why are you doing this?” you asked, turning back around.
“I told you you’d be better off in Hell,” he said as he moved to place the spear in its place by the fireplace. “You should eat.”
You got up from the bed and walked over to the table. There were several types of roasted meat, vegetables, pastries, breads, and some other things you didn’t recognize. Grabbing a piece of bread, you popped it into your mouth and turned back around to see him now in his standard black suit, sitting in a chair by the fire and a leg thrown over the arm of the chair. He looked casual, but you could also tell he was on edge. You gestured towards him and then to the spear.
“’War’ things?” you asked as you threw up one hand in air quotes.
He studied your face before speaking. “This is a lot more serious than you think, _____.”
“So, what happens then?” You grabbed a few more things off the table before walking over and taking the chair across from him.
You had woken up in a simple, long black shirt and you didn’t feel the need to change it in your wanderings. Not that you had any more clothes packed away for Hell. His eyes shifted to your thighs as you sat, the shirt moving ever so slightly up your legs. He licked his lips and you grabbed the hem, pulling it down and placed your food on your lap.
He looked at you now if you had just asked a ridiculous question.
“Heaven falls.”
You shuddered. There had always been a balance between good and evil and even though evil peeked through a little bit more, it was never enough to be of concern. You had never lived in such an imbalance and honestly it scared you.
“How can you be sure?”
“He lost his best asset.”
“You’re very sure of yourself.”
“Don’t I have to be?” He produced a glass of wine from somewhere and started to sip the red liquid slowly.
“Are you scared?”
The question caught him off guard as his eyes flashed to yours. The dull light of the fire burned in his eyes and at first you thought he was going to be angry with you. He took a few more sips, face turned back to the fire, but he hadn’t answered you yet, so you decided to wait. You took small bites of the food in your lap, but you were slowly losing interest.
“You humans are so sentimental when it comes to relationships,” he started.
Maybe angels didn’t have feelings quite like you did, but you guessed that he felt something.
“In the infancy of Heaven, none of us felt anything. We were meant to protect the human race and that was it. No feelings, no opinions. Just blind trust that He would tell us the right thing.” He swirled the wine in the glass absently, leg still casually thrown over the arm of the chair. “But we soon discovered that He didn’t have our best interest in heart and Lucifer was just the first to say something. I felt like a coward as I stood by, Lucifer defying Him in such a way. I agreed with him, but I was too afraid to say anything and then…” He trailed off looking solemn as his hand stilled, head hung low, and bottom lip jutted out in almost a pout.
You held on to the plate tightly, engrossed in a story that was known to millions, but you were here hearing it firsthand.
“He made me banish him,” he said softly. His voice was mournful, laced in regret. “I remember the look in his eyes when He told me to send him out of the gates.” He lifted the glass and emptied it. “I betrayed Lucifer because I was too afraid to say anything. He put up a fight too. It was a thunderous event. Days afterwards, the skies were black, and Heaven remained dark. He assured me I had done the right thing, but I knew I hadn’t. It just took me this long to defy him myself. The fact that Lucifer was willing to take me was just fortunate.”
You chewed on your bottom lip, thinking. “What would you have done if he didn’t?”
He shrugged without looking at you.
“Why did you mark me?”
At that, he looked at you again. He swung his leg off the arm and sat forward, elbows on his knees as he still held the glass in his hands. He stared at you pensively, searching your face again.
“I’m protecting you.”
“From what? Why?” In your moments awake at the Vatican, the Pope had instructed you of your new mark on your skin.
“I’m protecting you from the aftermath this war might, and will likely, have. When Heaven falls, Earth will be swarmed with demons and they’re not going to be merciful. People will be taken as slaves, killed, and made to live in a waking nightmare. Hell will extend to Earth because Lucifer wants to expand his kingdom. It’s nothing personal against humans.”
“Then why?”
He pursed his lips together, eyes flitting to the fire, and they shined brightly. He switched the glass from hand to hand.
“That one is a little harder to explain.”
“Then try. I’m just a human after all.” You said it with some disdain. He acted so casually as if basically wiping out humans was just something he did every once in a while.
“I get your apprehension about me.”
“Yea,” you said, getting emboldened and a little angrier, “you’ve brought me here twice and just dumped me at home with no explanation, completely confused, and then dying in the middle of the fucking Vatican. I’d like some type of answer as to why I’m marked by two denizens of Hell now without so much as ask-“
You were cut off by the shattering of the wine glass as it hit the floor. He came forward, dropped to his knees in front of your chair, swiped the plate off your lap, grabbed your face, and pulled your lips to his.
He didn’t answer because the answer scared him.
Your body relaxed further as he kissed you, pain washing out of your muscles, and relaxation settling in its place. It was almost as if being with him was like morphine, dulling any anxieties you had, and it confused you so badly that you were pushing him away. His lips were flushed red and his eyes looked large and almost innocent.
“I don’t understand…,” you trailed off as his hands came to rest on the tops of your thighs.
“Fuck,” he said sitting back on his heels and running his hand through his hair.
Your breath caught as he did so, profile turned to you and face illuminated by the grey fire. His features were in sharp shadow and he was even more devastatingly beautiful.  A whisper of fine, shiny dust emanated from around him. It was iridescent and only eye catching if you looked hard enough, but now that you could see it you couldn’t take your eyes off it. It was heavier behind him where his wings once were, floating outwards and dissipating into the room.
“Not all of Heaven can be taken out of a celestial being.”
Heaven still fell from his shoulders in the form of the beautiful remains of who he once was.
His voice was quiet when he spoke again. “At first, it was mild curiosity. The Hellblazer,” he laughed. “A human who sold her soul to the Devil, banishing demons, and had even killed herself once.”
You hated when anyone brought it up. It was a blot to who you were as a person, but it always seemed to be the subject of conversation when you were around a demon. Why were you so special that Lucifer himself spared you? At times, even you couldn’t explain it.
“I wanted to experience you for myself. You were like a beacon in the night. You lit up the darkness and your whole entire being seemed to call to me.”
He seemed to struggle internally on what to say and what not to say. He still didn’t seem to want to look at you, but he sighed and dropped his hands to his knees, head hanging in defeat before he looked up at you.
“I’m not sure how to explain it, ­­­____. I want you. I want every part of you. I want to protect you. I want you to be mine. I want you stay here, but I can’t make you.” He looked up at you pleadingly, stooping to a level he never thought he’d be at. “I can remove the mark.”
Your hand immediately flew to your heart and he followed the action, face falling as yours brightened. But now, your mind was turning, flowing through thoughts and images of your life. You essentially had nothing. You were only trying to redeem yourself through failed exorcisms, wading through life having wished your suicide worked all those years ago. Here, around him, you felt a little less empty. Could you be happy in Hell? Sometimes where you were already felt like Hell, so what could it hurt to go a little deeper?
Your eyes found his and they shone brightly in the muted tones of the room. The soft halo of color around him accentuated his form and he seemed to glow a little brighter. You fell a little deeper the more you looked at him and soon you were slowly leaning towards him. Instinctively, he rose up on his knees just a little, not wanting to assume what you were doing. Your hair fell into your eyes as you leaned a little closer. His hand shot out to catch it and tuck it behind your ear, stunning you into stopping. His hand froze against your cheek as he stared into your wide eyes. Your heart thrummed painfully in your chest. You tried to breath calmly through your nose, but your tense body was giving you away. He stayed still, gauging your reaction, that much you could tell. Everything in your body was pointing you in the right direction, towards him. It was as if your skin was magnetized and it only knew him. You leaned your face into his palm, feeling the heat of his skin against yours and it almost seemed to burn coldly. He closed the space between you, lips connecting with yours gently. He sighed as you reciprocated, bringing his other hand up to your neck as he deepened the kiss. As much as you felt reborn and empowered around him, something was missing. Your whole body seemed to ache with a loss you couldn’t quite place and with a pleasure that only he could stir inside of you. He let go of your face in favor of shoving his hands under your thighs, lifting you as he stood. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he put your legs around his waist, hands sliding to your ass. All the while he was kissing the curve of your jaw and drawing your earlobe between his teeth. You moaned and leaned into him, nestling your face into his neck and kissing the skin there. He breathed heavily against you as he walked and sat you on the edge of the bed, leaning over you so your fell to your back as he continued to kiss you. His hands were all over you body as if he didn’t know what he wanted to touch first. His fingers grazed over your nipples beneath the shirt and he felt them harden under his touch. You moaned, arching your chest upwards towards his but he moved with you and kept his distance. You broke the kiss and grasped at his biceps.
“Please touch me,” you said breathily.
He moaned as he grasped your waist, sliding his hands upwards, pushing your shirt up passed your breasts. You held your arms up as he moved the shirt upwards, pausing to wrap his lips around your nipple and suck it into his mouth before pulling it off the rest of the way.
“Please stay with me,” he whispered back gently into your ear.
His hand was hot on your hip, just above the waistband of your underwear. The other skated up your side causing chills to spread across your skin.
“I will.”
His lips found yours as he ground himself against you.
“Take these off,” he said, snapping the band of your underwear. He stood up and began discarding his clothing to each side of him. He suit jacket hit the floor, followed by his white button down that was thrown somewhere to his left, and this time you let your eyes wander over his tattoos without fear. Many were old, from the time of his creation, to more recent ones after his fall into Hell. He wrapped his inked hands around your calves and pulled you to the edge of the bed, dropping until he was eye level with your dripping cunt.
“I’ll make you feel good,” he said before licking a stripe up your center, causing you to moan. He kept your thighs apart, arms wrapped around them, and his hands grasped firmly against your thighs. “Fuck, I’ll make you mine.” He flicked his tongue over your clit, and you shuddered, hips stuttering against the bed. “You’ll be even more beautiful, even more so than Lilith.” His mouth covered your clit as his eyes met yours in a heated stare. His eyes blackened until the whites were almost gone. Your body heated so hot from the inside out you thought you were about to combust. He leaned back a little, mouth wet and almost dripping. “All of Hell will know who you belong to.”
He dove back between your legs as if some life saving potion were there. You cried out as his tongue teased circles on your clit before dipping down to explore more of you. He was being selfish. He wanted all of you and he wouldn’t feel complete without it. He lapped at you sloppily, pulling you harder and harder into his face. You ground your hips against him, and he moaned. His fingers were digging into your skin until you were sure you’d see bruises tomorrow. Your fingers were in his hair as you began to fuck yourself against his face, feet digging into his shoulder blades. His lips heated up against you and they brushed wetly across every part of you. Even now, you could feel his pout. His left hand now firmly held your ribcage and then he was inched forward and grabbed your breast fully in his hand. His palm heated instantly, causing an entirely different sensation than what you expected. You rutted against his face even harder and soon his teeth were brushing over your sensitive clit, before moving downward to dip his tongue inside of you, his nose stimulating you now. His moans were low, deep, and came from the back of his throat and they seemed to pulse up through your body. His lips warmed even more as he lapped lewdly now. Your hips circled on his face and you dripped down onto the bed no matter how much of you he tried to swallow. Your orgasm struck forcefully, his tongue inside of you to catch every drop. With your body twitching on the bed, he leaned forward, placing kisses against your stomach and kissed the curve of your neck gently.
“I can make you feel whole again,” he said against your skin.
Your entire body was flushed with sweat, totally spent, and muscles now melting into the mattress. But his comment sparked something inside of you. Could he feel it too?
“How?” you asked. Your fingers skated across the scars on his back and then up to his neck where you held on tightly, looking him in the eyes.
“I can give it back to you.”
You didn’t think you’d ever see stars again, agreeing to come to Hell, but his eyes held thousands. They were no longer completely black, but a soft chocolate, reflecting a strange milky way.
“Give me…what?” you whispered, falling into the void that was his gaze.
“Your soul.”
The ache in your chest blossomed and overcame the pleasure you had felt. Now the ache you felt had a name, had a face, and you were looking straight at it. That explained how you felt around him. He heightened everything inside of you that you wanted to have, but he also emphasized the large hole inside of you too; the thing you didn’t really try to think about and what it cost you.
“But…if I get it back won’t I just di­-,” he cut you off with a kiss to the side of your mouth.
“I won’t let you die. I’ll bind your soul to mine.”
Nothing about what he said should have lit the type of fire inside of you like it did. You were hungry for more. For more of him. You turned your face to meet his lips fully, pulling him against you. He was rutting his hips against you, his cock nudging your entrance. You pushed your hips upwards and he moaned as he entered you the slightest bit.
“Make me yours,” you said hotly.
His eyelids fluttered as his eyes rolled back. He pushed against you a little more forcefully, fully pushing inside of you. He sat up, hand at your throat as he began to thrust a little harder. He didn’t press as hard as he had before, but just enough pressure to make it pleasurable. He watched the pleasure flit across your face as you grabbed his wrist. He brought his other hand to your neck, pressing his thumbs up into your jaw. You were practically drooling as he fucked you, building up that pleasure inside of you as his cock warmed.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he moaned as he pressed into your skin a little harder. You were wet around him, dripping even more onto the sheets below you. He released his grip on your neck, but you kept your eyes closed as he continued to fuck you. Producing a knife, he made a quick cut in his left palm, dropped the knife and dipped his pointer finger into the blood. He pressed it against your skin and your eyes flew open at the hot, wet feeling. Your eyes found his and you could tell he was concentrating, but it didn’t make you afraid. You found yourself falling into the feeling of him once more as he continued to draw across your skin, skillfully sliding into you all the while. It only took a few minutes before he was leaning over you, his hips slowing to a more languid pace, brushing against your clit softly as he pressed against you, careful not to smear the blood.
“Are you ready?” he asked as he kissed your temple.
You nodded, looking at him squarely as he came into you view over you. He looked at you hard for a moment before pressing his hand right over your heart. Pain shot into every nerve ending. It felt as if fire ants crawled across your skin and bit every inch. Flames licked at your toes and you wanted to scream but you couldn’t. He was holding you to the bed as your body begged to move, begged to die. You were hoping the death would be quick. Anything had to be better than this. Soon, your body would shut down as it went into shock and maybe the pain wouldn’t be so bad. The flames began to die out, ice taking its place as a dull chill crept across your skin. It pricked at your fingertips, becoming uncomfortably cold as if you had stuck your hand in ice for too long. You became sleepy, but this was a different kind of sleep. It was almost as if everything were quietly shutting down together. If this was how dying felt it wasn’t so bad. The last time you tried, you hadn’t been able to actually die. It was almost as if you and all the friends you loved laid down together in each other’s arms, sleeping into the beyond. Slowly, your heart began to skip a beat here or there. Your lungs tried just a little harder to draw in air. Your heart skipped every third beat. Your eyelids got heavier and your breathing got shorter. Your body felt heavy as if someone had laid a weighted blanket over you. Your heart beat one more time and then stopped.
Everything came back in a blinding white light. Warmth flushed over your body like a warm river and the feeling came back to your fingers and toes. Your skin no longer burned but felt soothed as if someone had rubbed a healing balm over your entire body. You breathed in deeply and exhaled even longer, life coming back into your lungs. Your heart beat softly in your chest.
What you couldn’t see nor feel, was currently happening before his eyes. He watched with rapt fascination and desire as the same tattoos he bore slowly etched themselves across your skin. Your name spelled out slowly in red lines, also in Hebrew, but it wasn’t your Christian name. Hellblazer. Lucifer’s mark disappeared from your skin as another of his own sigil appeared over your heart then another, upside down, etched itself over the other, signaling the binding of souls.
Your eyes flew open as you inhaled as if coming up for air after being held under the water. The room came into focus in blinding color. Now fully a citizen of Hell, you could see it for its true beauty. Emerald stone fireplace, golden fixtures, dark as midnight velvet curtains, and the fire that burned was the truest red you had ever seen.
He slammed his hips into yours and the pleasure shot back into your limbs causing you to fall instantly into an orgasm.
You finally felt whole. The pull to him even stronger now. It was so strong you were sure he could be millions of miles away and you’d still be able to find him. Fire and passion burned inside of you, in your soul, and you were finally able to feel. The bond even affected him as he shuddered against you, but he kept pounding into you with a force that only hinted at his need for you. He pushed his hands underneath your back and up to your shoulder blades, pulled you upwards, and had the both of you flipped in seconds. You were dazed as you planted your hands on his chest, still sitting on his cock as he adjusted himself beneath you. He slowly ran his hands up your sweaty thighs, fingers tracing over the new lines on your skin. You looked down at your arms, the dark markings too out of focus for you to see what they were right now. Any noticeable scar you had, of which you had many, was now gone. Where there wasn’t a tattoo, your skin was porcelain white and clear of any flaws. Your breathing felt clearer now and the pleasure you felt building up inside of you just by sitting here caused you to shudder. He hissed as you squeezed around him and his fingers dug into your hips.
“Fuck me, baby girl.” He sounded desperate as his head fell back and his eyes closed. His skin shone with sweat and you could see him for the full ethereal beauty he was. He did have a little of Heaven in him still. Dark with light. Good with evil. A demon and an angel. He would never be one without the other.
You rolled your hips against him and he tensed and relaxed all at once as he got what he wanted. He grew hotter inside of you again and your thighs slid easily alongside his as the heat between you built. He sat up, legs still off the side of the bed as he held you close to his chest. You draped your left arm across his shoulders as you braced yourself on his right knee, rolling your hips into his, his hot cock brushing against your g-spot with each circle of your hips. He kissed your throat, bit the skin on your collarbone, and then drew your nipple in his mouth once more. He had handfuls of your ass in both hands, assisting you as you fucked yourself on his cock. He dipped his fingers between your legs from behind, catching the juices that now coated him at each thrust and he traced his fingers around your asshole before pushing one wet finger inside. You hissed, inhaling deeply as he pushed in slowly.
“Keep fucking me, baby,” he said as he kissed the side of your neck.
Your grip on his shoulders tightened as your right arm now crossed his back. Your cheek rested on his shoulder as you moved your hips. He moved his finger in rhythm with the bounce of your hips and soon you were moaning harder as you bit into his skin. He pushed another wet finger inside, stretching you in the most pleasurable of ways, pressing against that thin layer of skin that separated him from your g-spot. You clenched hard around him, his hot body pressed against yours, as pleasure ran hot inside of you, coming hard around him as you gushed around his cock. It dripped against his fingers as you made a mess of his lap, fingers still moving slowly in your ass.
“All mine,” he said before licking at the salty sweetness of your skin.
The space between you was wet, but he paid no mind as he pulled his fingers from you, grabbed your ass again and started to use your swollen cunt. You could barely keep your eyes open as you focused all your strength to your thighs, helping him as you clutched at his shoulders, face still nestled in his neck. His breathing quickened and his thighs tensed beneath yours. The bond between you only amplified his pleasure as yours seemed to mix and meld with his. Your orgasm flowed into his nervous system and pleasure flowed outwards from him in waves. He came hard with the memory of your soul binding to his, the same fire burned under his skin. He filled you up and then some, his cum even warmer than his cock as you physically felt it spill out around him, mixing with your cum as well. His fingers on your ass loosened, not even realizing how hard he was holding on and you relaxed on his lap and fully into his chest. His chest rose and fell softly as he came down. He wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you in closer as he grew a little softer inside of you.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
You nodded into his neck, holding on just a little bit tighter. He laid back again and this time you let your head fall against his chest to hear his heartbeat beneath you; the same heart now connected to yours. Your life was in his hands now, and his in yours.
“I’ll bring down Heaven for you.”
You melted into him, tired, but fulfilled. You finally felt redeemed. Your soul was still in Hell where it belonged, that much you weren’t going to argue, but you had come to terms that this would be permanent for you. You had gained back what you wanted and more which was hardly fair. But when it came to a side you felt as if you were on the right side of the line. A second heart beat in time with yours. A second soul twisted out and grasped onto yours like vines. You were two, but one. A Prince and a human, side by side in this new age.
Far away, on Earth, and nowhere near the clutches of a place that was slowly crawling to the surface, the Pope sat at his window looking out into the night. Over the horizon of the lights of Rome, thunder rumbled, and lightening began to streak across the sky as a storm approached. He felt the change on the air as it charged with electricity. Whatever was happening was going to be catastrophic to humankind.
“It’s in your best interest to do that now. There’s going to be a war soon and Earth will suffer just as many consequences. You’ll want to find yourself on the right side.”
The Prince’s words plagued his thoughts during the day and his dreams at night. Guilt rested deep into his heart; his faith tested. In his hand he held the brooch, the symbolism of his betrayal. Whether Heaven or Hell won, he had chosen his side.
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tarysande · 4 years
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It’s the Dose that Makes the Poison: Lucifer Thoughts and Speculation
I’m going to throw the entirety of this under a cut because spoilers. I’ve been rearranging the pieces on the table and I have some meta and a plausible(?) theory about how things might shake out.
...this is almost four thousand words long, and frankly? I feel I’ve barely grazed the surface.
Also, I put it on AO3 for ease of reading and/or in case anyone wants to have, idk, threaded conversations ;D
Okay. Here are a bunch of the pieces. (Or the piece is here, as it were.)
First: The show has always been about redemption; the showrunners throw that word around all the time. Second: I don’t think we’re going to see an endgame or a narrative where God is evil. So, how to make the concept of literal Hell work, then? How to explain or justify the idea of a father who a) kicked his kid out of the house and sent him to Hell for-literal-ever and b) created children for specific “of God” purposes.
Hell
In 5x01, Lee says, “Whose Hell is this, anyway?” and ... I think that’s the crux of the matter. In S3, Lucifer realizes he gave himself the face of a monster because he felt monstrous. But the truth is, he didn’t just give himself the face.
He gave himself the place, too. 5x01 is littered with clues that indicate this. Lucifer says “you to your torture and me to mine.” Lee’s entire speech—the one that pushes all Lucifer’s buttons because of course Lucifer’s projecting all over Lee’s “worst memory”—might as well be Lucifer talking to himself (not unlike Uriel in Lucifer’s hell loop). You know, the part of Lucifer that’s starting to understand all the psychological stuff Linda’s been yammering on about.
Lucifer created Hell. To torture himself for what he believes he did. He created the mechanism that you can walk out any time you like—but no one ever does. None of the doors are locked, right? 
On some level, Lucifer, who is all about fairness and justice, looked at what he did and decided the Hell as we’ve seen it was the appropriate punishment. And with Lee, Lucifer almost figures out that the goal of “Hell” isn’t to eternally loop through guilt-fueled self-torture but to forgive yourself and apologize or make amends or not repeat the mistakes. Most of all, learn that nothing changes if you stay in the loop and the only way to break the loop is to take risk that you might fuck up and do something that you feel guilty for again. 
Names/Family
Something that’s always jumped out at me is that no matter how many millennia have passed, Lucifer—to whom nicknames and names are canonically really goddamned important—always refers to his family by their familial connection to him “brother, sister, Mum, Dad.” When he banished himself from Heaven—and I’m starting to think he did—he didn’t stop feeling like he was a part of his family. Even when he wanted to eat Amenadiel’s heart someday, he still called him “brother.” Even when Uriel was threatening Chloe (and Mum), he was still “brother.”
For that matter, isn’t it interesting that all Lucifer’s estranged siblings refer to him by the name he chose for himself—not the one he was given? Except, of course, when they want to hurt him. We’ve known since what, S1? That Lucifer cannot abide the name Samael. Even Uriel calls him Lucifer. Or Luci. Mum calls him Lucifer. Lucifer was given Poison of God and he chose Bringer of Light. And everyone who loved (and loves) him said, “All right. Lucifer it is.” And though Lucifer is originally a little eye-rolly with nicknames—Luce, Luci—it’s fond, not the “I’m going to rip out your spine and beat you to death with it” response Samael elicits. Essentially, Samael is Lucifer’s deadname. And people who use intentionally are dismissing and rejecting the identity Lucifer chose, which is vile.
When I was researching/writing Taking the Fall and I knew I wanted to talk about the name thing, I came across this quotation ascribed to Paracelsus, and it really resonated: “All things are poison, and nothing is without poison, the dosage alone makes it so a thing is not a poison.” The dosage, in fact, is the difference between whether something is a poison or a cure. And if that doesn’t align with the themes of the show, I don’t know what does. 
Lucifer has spent all this time thinking he is a poison; he has never imagined that he might be a cure. (To angels embracing their free will; to ending the sharp black and white segregation between Heaven and Hell; to darkness, to fear. Yet the more Lucifer learns and the healthier he gets, the more we see cures in what he does: i.e., Brody and also, you know, solving crimes.)
Michael, on the other hand, means “Who is like God?” It’s meant to be a rhetorical question, but in the universe of the show, I think Michael’s twisted version is that he used the question “Who is like God?” to plant the seed of Lucifer’s rebellion ... and is now answering the question “Who is like God?” with the reply, “I am."
Maze
But just in case we head too far down the Lucifer is Great line of thinking, we’ve got a big old example of how he’s still a poison, too.
Contrast this discussion of family with the lesson Lucifer still needs to learn about Maze—he’s managed to absorb that she’s not his servant anymore, but he’s still clinging to that soulless demon/just a demon dismissiveness. And despite self-worth coming from within, bitches, Maze still hasn’t truly absorbed that. She still looks outside for validation—and resents or backslides when she doesn’t get it. Especially from Lucifer. Because Lucifer was the first being to treat her like she mattered. She admires him. Looks up to him. Loves him. In many ways, Maze is the shadow of Chloe—drawn to Lucifer but never, from his perspective, his equal or his partner.
And he, for all the strides he’s made, still default to “demon” as derogatory and dismissive. Something she can’t transcend, even though all the evidence suggests the contrary. As long as Lucifer sees Maze as just a demon, she can’t truly escape from that identity. 
Why does Maze keep “betraying” Lucifer? It’s tempting to think it’s because she’s a demon. Because she doesn’t have “a soul.” But that’s not true. She can learn; she learns from “betraying” Chloe and doesn’t do it a second time. She learns from “betraying��� Linda and Trixie. Even she and Amenadiel seem to have reached a real (and much more healthy) understanding of who they are to each other.
She keeps betraying Lucifer because he keeps deserving it.  
Servants 
The thing is, I think there’s something important in Lucifer’s “You’re not my servant anymore” to Maze. Because I think angels believe they are God’s servants. And I suspect the reason God’s been so AFK is because he really wanted them to ... break free of that. On their own. Without him telling them to—because if he told them, it wouldn’t be choice anymore. It wouldn’t be free will. It would be Following The Will of DadGod. 
Here’s another relevant Paracelsus quotation: “No one who can stand alone by himself should be the servant of another.” 
Angels self-actualize. They have powers. Sometimes those powers change (as with Amenadiel). I don’t think angels ever lacked free will. 
What is self-actualization but literal free will? You become what you believe you are; you do what you think you’re supposed to. You literally change based on your choices and feelings about those choices. Angels basically have human free will on a kind of EXTREME SCALE that they’ve remained mostly ignorant of throughout time. But how do you get your kids to figure something out without telling them how to figure it out when they’ve all got this WILL OF DAD complex? He gave them the tool of self-actualization. When they didn’t ... do that, he created humanity. He tinkered with the model. Took away the names and the powers that were such a stumbling block for his angels and such a shining example of how he failed them. If someone hangs on your every word, if you are not just their father but their master, how can they ever know love? Trust? How can they ever be free? Be themselves? I think God wanted his angel children to learn from his human children and was disappointed when they pretty much decided to just be remote and Angelically Superior All The Time, instead. Of course, that's mostly on him, too.
Except Lucifer. Because Lucifer’s curiosity (yes, from the beginning of time) kept bringing him so close to figuring things out. (Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven, amirite, Paradise Lost?) And as close as he was to figuring things out, Lucifer was still prideful and selfish and superior. The result was what happened with (and in) Hell. Things got twisted down there; he was in a God role over the demons and he was not hands-off. Cue endless loops of pain and torture and despair and self-recrimination and poison. Lilith may have started their pain, but Lucifer, however unintentionally or ignorantly, continued it. 
At least Lucifer could escape it sometimes. Those poor demons. Those poor abandoned children. They had two rocks.
Pretty sure there’s going to be an echo of Dad abandonment with his angel kids and Lilith of her demon kids, by the by. Because abandonment is a theme. And good intentions or not, well, you know what they say about the road to Hell.
Humanity The more Lucifer interacted with humanity, the more he learned from humanity. And, of course, the entire journey of the series has been about Lucifer learning, growing, adapting, changing because of this. And not in a Superior Angelic Way, but in a person-to-person real way. Not just with Chloe. With everyone.  But yeah, Chloe is the catalyst—precisely because (as Amenadiel says) she’s the only mortal who sees Lucifer for who he really is, without her reflected desires getting in the way. No one, no one else can truly reflect back to him his worthiness or lack thereof.
Does Chloe have a power? It’s not laser-beam hands. But I’ve always thought Chloe has the power of seeing things and, in seeing, encouraging others to see, too. And this is most obvious with Lucifer, whose power has never let him be seen. Because of his power, he can never know if the reactions of others are about him or about their own desires. 
What agony for someone whose chosen path is bringing light: to be forever hidden in the shadow of the light others see.
Until Chloe.
Michael tells Lucifer his greatest fear is that of being unworthy. We know Lucifer has always feared he’s not worthy of Chloe. But now that she’s told him, shown him, his worthiness? You’d better believe that he will never, ever abandon her—will never, ever let her suffer from her worst fear. Gosh, and by suddenly being invulnerable again, it’s almost like he’s assured that, isn’t it? “You make me vulnerable” was about his walls. “My invulnerability ensures I will never, ever abandon you,” is all about hers.
So, back to learning from humanity. We’ve seen Lucifer and Amenadiel do it. It’s been hinted that Azrael has done it, at least a little. Then we have Michael’s frustrated tale of how the other angel siblings are taking note of Lucifer’s actions—with the implication being that maybe they’re learning, too. Maybe they’re starting to understand that they can be more than they think they have been made to be. More than just a “Something” of God.
Control 
Meanwhile, of course, Michael’s concocted some kind of Make Heaven Great Again plot—ironically, it appears, by doing exactly what he accused Lucifer of doing: believing he can run things better than Dad. And, I suspect, by trying to set himself as Master and his siblings (and other assorted peons) as his servants. Only, he’s not doing it in Lucifer’s ultimately forthright (and even honest) way of “This sucks and I’m rebelling” but in a conniving, secretive, Machiavellian way that probably sounds a lot like “Dad says” or “Dad’s not here” or “Who is closer to God than I?” ...
Who is like God, indeed. He even throws down the word archangel when he speaks to Dan: an angel above even other angels. I’m 99% sure that word’s never been used before on the show. Because that’s what Michael desires. To be more. To be everything. To control.
He’s what Lucifer was as the Lord of Hell. He’s everything Lucifer has made such progress toward overcoming.
Incidentally, and also essay-worthy: This is why the progression of the scene where Lucifer and Chloe make love is so incredibly (heh) important: Lucifer of the perfect appearance, perfect pocket square, perfect car, perfectly clean apartment; Lucifer of control control control control ... surrenders. He offers. She accepts. And in these first moments—“Incredible,” he breathes before they’ve done anything more than kiss—she is above him, in control ... and nothing bad happens. Nothing hurts him even though she makes him hurt-able. She doesn’t take advantage of him. She loves him; she treasures him; she protects him. It’s beautiful. It’s everything he’s been so afraid he could never have.
And for the first time (very possibly) ever, he sees himself as worthy. He sees himself as belonging. He believes he is not alone; he is not lonely.
Power
Amenadiel “lost” his power to stop time when he decided he didn’t want to stand apart from humanity anymore. Essentially, just as he lost his wings when he was so horrified and disgusted by what he’d done (to Lucifer, with Malcolm, etc.) he caused himself to Fall. He regained his wings when he made it his purpose to bring Charlotte to Heaven. He stopped time again in S5 when the question of humanity—of his own child being human, and thus ‘not like him’ or ... not that ‘special’—reared its head. With the nuns, he reflects their love of God, right? And in part, that’s because he’s in this father (or Father) role now. 
Angel powers, like all power really, are double-edged. In the wrong hands or twisted the wrong way, a good power can bring about evil. Look at the almost throwaway line with Brody in 5x02: Lucifer’s “desire” power—so often spun as about sin or hedonism—brought Brody peace and forgiveness. That Lucifer doesn’t lie or take without giving in return indicates that, on some level, the level that values true justice—and even a bit of mercy—he was never able to use that power against others (the way we see Michael do with his); he didn’t want to use as he felt he’d been used; he also didn’t want to feel used by those whose desires he provided (this is why the parade of one-night stands and “it was just sex—great sex, but just sex” partners upset him so much back in S2). Favors—and even the give and take of sex—were a way to balance that scale. Again, this could be a whole essay all its own.
This makes me suspect that the dark side of Lucifer’s powers played some part in his Rebellion. That he abused desire the way we’ve seen Michael abuse fear. 
So, about that power of fear, then. I mean, it just sounds negative. How can FEAR be positive, right? But if Michael were using his powers to draw out fears so they’re named and dealt with (LIKE PEOPLE DO IN THERAPY???) instead of manipulated for personal gain—it could be a very healing power (LIKE THERAPY???).
Greatest Strength/Greatest Weakness
The absolute thematic and narrative brilliance of twin brothers having the powers of fear and desire whilst also being held back BY the “power” of their twin is so amazing it really needs its own essay. But I do want to mention this relative to the overall arc heading forward. Much of Lucifer’s work with Linda has been about addressing his fears; he’s made a ton of progress with this. As I mentioned earlier, with Linda’s guidance, Lucifer has been drawing out his fears in a safe(r) space and learning to deal with them and heal. And, in doing so, his own power of reflecting desire has increasingly been less and less about artisanal honey and car batteries and more about drawing out desires that help others heal, grow, become their best selves, release their inner demons.
Michael is (both literally and figuratively) twisted by his desires (to be powerful, to be stronger/better/more admired than his brother). I’ll bet some cold hard cash that if Lucifer’s the source of the original injury to his shoulder/wing, Michael has self-actualized into keeping that injury—perhaps even magnifying it—to a) manipulate others into feeling sorry for him, b) to remind everyone who looks at him how awful Lucifer is, and c) to trick people into believing he’s weaker than he is. 
At the end of the day, fear and desire are two of the strongest motivating forces in the world (universe); the show is showing us all the messy ways those forces come into play. And it’s also showing how connection and love and trust are the forces that both fight the worse facets of these powers and that let these forces be useful in helpful and ultimately healing ways.
Because THERAPY.
Home
So, we know we’re rolling toward what was meant to be a series finale; it’s time to start tying loose ends together, right? Again and again, the question of home comes up. Lucifer only ever refers to Los Angeles as his home. Maze, on the other hand, still defaults to Hell as home. 
Hell as we know it is over. But Hell as a place where Maze tries to impart the lessons she’s learned on Earth to her abandoned, twisted-by-hate-and-loneliness-and-Lilith siblings? Perhaps even with Eve “mother of all humanity” at her side to help clean up some of the mess Lilith made when she decided to abandon connection in favor of more selfish desire? I think that’s plausible, while also managing a significant nod at where Mazikeen ends up in the comics and a heavy dash of “the things we learn from therapy and/or being best friends with a therapist.” 
Now, I know the question of how things will end for Chloe and Lucifer is contentious in fandom. So, you know, grain of salt. I don’t think Lucifer’s home is Los Angeles; the Los Angeles in Hell wasn’t enough because it didn’t have her in it. In a literal embodiment of “Home is where the heart is,” Lucifer’s home is with Chloe. And since Chloe’s worst fear is abandonment, Lucifer will do what it takes to stay with her—because that’s what’s most important to him. The utterly unselfish choice. I think there’s some pretty reasonable foreshadowing (Lilith’s choice—if that choice was even real, of course—for example) that Lucifer may choose to renounce his immortality. Or to give it to someone else. Or that immortality won’t matter at all anymore. 
From his reactions in 5x07/08, we know that Lucifer’s identity and ideas of usefulness/self-worth/worthiness of love are still connected to his identity as an immortal with powers; I think, though, he’s beginning to piece together the complications therein, especially regarding questions of partnership and vulnerability and equality. 
Personally, Human!Lucifer has never been my preferred outcome, but I can see how it might work/might be what they’re heading for. Even if I’d still prefer the “you can use me as a bullet shield” partnership with supernatural elements—because those have always been at the heart of their partnership. The strengths of one make up for the weaknesses in the other (and vice versa).
Hell (Redux)
Finally, I’m still pretty sure we’re going to see a complete overhaul of the Heaven/Hell dichotomy. One with a lot less THIS IS THE WAY IT IS BECAUSE CONTROL and a lot more CHOICES MATTER (maybe Linda can have a turn as a salamander after all). And a major catalyst, of course, is Lucifer and his love for the chosen family on earth (and through them, a renewed love for the estranged family he’s never actually stopped loving; 5x01 basically makes canon that it's not that Lucifer hates his family—it's that he's terrified of disappointing them again, of causing problems again). 
So why does Hell have to change?
Because right now, every human he loves is sure they’re going to Hell. And after all the time and all these friendships, can you really see Lucifer being okay with that? Okay with Ella or Linda or Dan or Trixie tormenting themselves for all eternity? When he wasn’t even okay with Mr. Said Out Bitch doing so? When he gave this guy who he barely knows every opportunity to change his fate in ways he’s never done for any other tortured soul? Because they had a tenuous connection on earth?
Can you see him being okay with Chloe choosing Hell to be with him?
When it boils right down to it, Lucifer has learned to love others. And I think, especially given his revelations about self-loathing last season, that love isn’t going to let him be okay with or encourage the self-loathing in others. Love—selfless love, real love—is, in fact, the cure to the very concept of Hell. 
And it’s also the cure to the very concept of Heaven, too.
How could Heaven ever be perfect if the people you love aren’t in it?
It can’t. It might be more silver and have fewer demons, but I don’t think it’s any less an eternal torture. Eve basically tells us as much.
So, on that note, I’ll leave you with another fine quotation from Paracelsus:
“When a man undertakes to create something, he establishes a new heaven, as it were, and from it the work that he desires to create flows into him... For such is the immensity of man that he is greater than heaven and earth.”
And that, I think, is going to be the takeaway. We create what we are; we choose what we create. And in the act of that creation, we choose whether we are the poison or the remedy. And if we make mistakes, slip up, hurt people, hurt ourselves—it’s not a Hell-sentence. It’s the dose that makes the poison. We learn, we grow, we apologize, we strive to make things better, we love and love and love and love, and we never stop striving to be the cure.   
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lupsss1412 · 4 years
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The Liar’s Sin Chap. 5
Hello!! I’m so sorry for the wait but , well I suffered from the loss of one of my oldest dogs a few days ago, almost at the end of the month so it ook a toll on me, however I managed to finish this chapter and I am working on the next one, I really hope you like it!!!
Basen on this prompt form @sayuricorner!!
Chap. 1        Chap. 2      Chap. 3      Chap. 4       Chap. 6      Chap. 7    Chap. 8
AO3
MASTERLIST
Now without further ado the chapter!!!
Chapter’s tittle 
NOT GONNA DIE
“Are you alright?”
It was a simple message.
Just a question.
But it meant so much to her, it meant she wasn’t completely alone, it meant she still could communicate with the rest of the world, with her friends in Paris.
It was a small light that filled her heart with hope.
She was thankful they all had left her alone with Tikki, she had been able to let out her tears of relief and be able to take it all in. It was small but this meant she could return, or maybe at least find solace in talking with her friends and family.
With a small chuckle she looked at her phone again, she had received the message not long after she had fallen through the portal judging the hour. Never in a million years, she would’ve thought that a message from Chloe would bring her so much joy.
With that, the radio demon started to talk about how the car should probably get cleaned before leaving to visit his majesty, and oh, how many things there were left to do before they all could be ready to leave. Dragging and ever-energetic Niffty and the couple out of the kitchen with him, leaving Marinette alone.
Tikki smiled patting her hand, It certainly was a reminder of the people who loved her and a huge relief, while it might not be enough for her to call them and to see them it would be enough for her to be in communication with them, which meant that she could tell them she was alright.
With shaky hands, she typed on her phone, it would be a short message to tell her friends she was alright. It didn’t matter when they would receive it, she was just happy to know that she would be able to talk to them again and maybe talk to her parents soon too.
All that was left, was to wait. At least for that matter.
She still had to face the ones responsible for her unfortunate travel. She had been quite surprised, but she hoped Charlie and Vaggie would be able to tell her more about the situation and answer a few questions she still had regarding the time in hell.
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“Well, it seems we must make arrangements for the small trip to the castle!” Alastor announced, everyone who had been staring at Marinette turned in his direction providing her with some privacy “Charlotte dear, we must make sure the clothes will arrive on time so our guest can be more comfortable along with the ride that will take you there”
He quickly pushed everyone outside, even Niffty who managed to grab one last cookie before disappearing to clean something in the hotel, even if it looked pristine and so clean you could eat from the floor.
Charlie glanced at the kitchen once more, Alastor kept talking about how they all had to be presentable and how the new arrangements for the human guest assuring that he would also provide some special features to make her stay more comfortable. Everything seemed to be in order and his ideas were really interesting,
“Ok enough!” Vaggie interrupted getting between Charlie and the overlord “what is your reason for helping us with the human?”
Alastor’s smile widened and Charlie tried to placate her girlfriend by putting her hands on the moth demon shoulder’s, it usually helped but with a swift movement Vaggie rejected Charlie’s soft gesture.
“I don’t know what game you’re playing at” Vaggie exclaimed while summoning her spear, with a growl pointing it at Alastor “but I don’t trust you near Marinette, who knows what will you do to her once we lower our guard!”
Charlie sighed; she had accepted Alastor’s help but she still knew it had to be taken with a grain of salt. Still, she had decided to allow him to demonstrate his goodwill, even if it meant being just the source of entertainment for himself.
“Oh, my dear” Alastor spoke, the static making Charlie cringe and Vaggie to back down a bit “I do not have any interest in the little human!”
“Wait what?” Charlie spoke, she was confused and both of them were staring at Alastor as if he had grown another head “you…don’t?”
Alastor chucked, summoning his microphone and twirling it a bit as he turned in the direction of the lobby. Both females following cautiously as they tried to see if he would explain something more.
In essence, the radio demon was a mystery wrapped in a riddle, he could be caring while making them breakfast but his carnage was still feared through hell. He didn’t show anything except what he wanted you to see and hear. Charlie had to admit that even if he was a prankster and usually full of energy, she couldn’t understand him, and she wondered if she would be able to understand him one day.
“I invested in my entertainment, sweetheart” Alastor spoke, “That means I do have to take this seriously, after all, you won’t be useful to me if all of you are dead!”
Charlie laughed nervously as she looked away, in all fairness Alastor was right. Still, she wished he could’ve been less straight forward with his answer. The laughing track following his statement and echoing through the lobby made her feel a bit uncomfortable.
“In other words, dear Vagatha,” Alastor smiled and turned to see her “I do not seek to harm the human, just to help her, after all, she’s barely a child! And will be a great source to alleviate me from my boredom”
Vaggie was taken back, Alastor had turned again in the direction of the stairs disappearing in a corner. Charlie had been staring at the exchange and felt as if something was being left out.
Alastor usually never gave a reason as to why he did things, it usually was the same response as always. It had been to get rid of the boredom around him or just because he felt like it.
“I…I don’t understand” Vaggie exclaimed, her hands on her hair as she tried to find a hole or double meaning in the red overlord’s words “Why is he…Charlie?”
Charlie had been staring at the place where Alastor had disappeared through. She could understand somehow his claim. The last time this had happened Hell had suffered more than she could remember, not only the angels had come to cause the extermination from demons on the streets. No, they had come and destroyed every life they could, the massacre had been going on for days almost a week.
She remembered being scared to even look out her window, her room had been made soundproof per requested by herself. She had been shielded buy she still knew. The reports and the history had been forced on her to understand the consequences and the situation she could be stuck in as the future heir of Lucifer and next on the throne.
“Charlie?” Vaggie mused again, breaking her from the string of thoughts she had “Is everything alright?”
Charlie looked down, she knew that Vaggie didn’t understand, she was blissfully ignorant to the consequences of letting Marinette get hurt. She had to explain it to Vaggie so she could understand the ground where all of them were standing.
“I…think it would be best to explain it once Marinette is here” Charlie spoke, her tone becoming neutral and Vaggie placed a hand on her shoulder, her lips curving enough to make Charlie smile “she might have questions and after that, I can explain it better to you Vaggie”
The moth demon nodded and smiled, a soft look on her eyes trying to transmit everything she couldn’t say but offering that in support of her girlfriend. Charlie smiled and thanked whoever that had put Vaggie in her path, she didn’t know what she would do without her.
She just hoped that Marinette wouldn’t ask about the extermination nor anything related to that.
“For now, let’s…” Charlie smiled seeing Razzle and Dazzle waving at her as they all carried groceries from the limousine into the hotel along with “just let’s get ready to meet my father and give Marinette her new clothes”
Razzle gave her the package with Marinette’s clothes before returning to help Dazzle with some other bags. Charlie smiled, hoping and almost praying that Marinette would be now fine enough to talk.
________________________________________________________________
Chloe was fuming, after their little chat she had been more than happy to contact her daddy and mother. As soon as she had been able to be alone, she had turned into deep thought. Ordering some food and chocolate had been a great idea. That is until inspiration hit her, they all had been thinking about exposing Lila for what she was using her lies against her.
But now it was something more, something deeper, something even more interesting had crossed her mind.
Her lies could be used against her, on a low scale. No matter how much she tried, this was something that would require Police investigation, and being the child of the mayor and a fashion queen along with how much Marinette seemed to be surrounded by celebrities could help.
She knew that high-profile people with children would be often of top priority. She seemed to recall some instances of when someone of power could influence the search, and as for now, she could use Marinette’s acronym to make it a top priority.
Baby steps, and planning everything.
As someone had claimed once.
Revenge is best served cold.
Chloe was no fool, she had enough connections to make Marinette a top priority search, especially if she used the argument of never being akumatized. People knew her, loved her and they all had heard from the famous designer of Jagged Stone and the girl that Clara Nightingale had chosen to be her Ladybug.
She held all the cards now.
“No matter what” Chloe smiled before grabbing her phone to check her notifications and social media “You will fall, dirty Liar”
________________________________________________________________
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“Marinette?” Charlie called her name loud enough for the blunette to turn her head away from the message she just answered “can we come in?”
Marinette cleaned her dried tear marks on her cheeks with her hands, looking at Tikki who just smiled in support before nodding. She knew it was time to face them now, even if she wanted to keep up and stare at her phone to see if Chloe would answer her, or Luka, or even her parents as she had decided to test out how many people, she could reach with the app.
“Come in!” Marinette exclaimed, after just deciding to block her phone for the meantime “Hi Charlie, Vaggie”
Both demonesses smiled and looked at the small young girl in front of them. The small goddess was still munching on a cookie but was staring directly at Marinette, sadness was reflected on those deep blue eyes but they both could sense that they were calmer now, her postures were so obvious it made them cringe just thinking about how much this was for someone so young.
“The clothes arrived, we thought you’d like to change before going to meet my father again,” Charlie said as she walked to take a seat facing Marinette “I thought you’d like to be more comfortable and maybe we can answer any other question you may have about…all of this”
Vaggie took a seat beside her girlfriend, both of them taking note of how Marinette seemed to change in posture before her eyes met them again. Vaggie almost flinched at the change she had, her gaze fell and her shoulders slumped, even her breathing was quicker and she seems to be struggling to find her voice.
“I would like that” Marinette smiled, still thinking about how nice and generous all of them had been so far “I still got some questions, so if it isn’t a bother…”
Charlie shook her head along with Vaggie, who pushed the clothes near Marinette. Sending her a small smile trying to reassure her that both of them were going to help her.
“I’d love to answer any questions you have” Charlie exclaimed “and please feel free to ask anything you want; I’ll try my best to answer all of them”
Marinette nodded, Tikki flew up to her shoulder before petting softly Marinette’s cheek.
“If you want to talk later, we can also arrange that” Vaggie spoke, knowing full well it would be nice to extend that olive branch to her “we don’t want to pressure you into anything”
Marinette smiled and both of them finally felt they could breathe, she seemed to calm down just by reassuring the teen she wasn’t forced to do anything against her will nor have a responsibility with them.
“Thank you for worrying about me” Marinette spoke, the tenderness in her voice made both demonesses feel more at ease “I still think this is the best time for us to talk, I would like to get this out of the way really”
Charlie and Vaggie nodded, both of them looking expectantly at the small teenager who seemed to carry so many burdens on her shoulders.
“I…would like to ask” Marinette looked at Charlie a little hesitant, her voice quivering a bit before she took a deep breath and looked straight into the princess's eyes “what exactly happens during the extermination?”
Charlie’s eyes widened, and Vaggie covered her mouth with one hand and then turning to stare and Charlie. Marinette stared at them and frowned, she had expected them to be wary of her questions but never to get such a reaction from them.
“I understand it’s probably difficult for you to…talk about it” Marinette spoke, her voice lower and soft “but I need to understand to be able to know my limits around here, I do not want to put any of you in any danger”
Charlie nodded, even if she wished to evade the theme, she knew it was for the best. In this case, being ignorant of the dangers around hell could be their undoing along with their responsibility.
“Indeed, it is” Charlie spoke breaking the silence “I do not want to lie to you Marinette, you do not deserve that. However, I have to warn you, this is quite disturbing and we do not want to make you feel as if you don’t have any other choice but to listen. If anything, no matter how small you think it is, bothers you, please tell us”
Marinette nodded before Charlie turned to Vaggie as if hoping she would understand that her decision would be final. Even if it might be too much for her or the teen across the table.
“I understand,” Marinette said looking straight at Charlie “I know it is not what you expected but I like to know what I’m dealing with to know when and how to act. We still don’t know when…or if I will return to my home, I do not wish to be a burden to you”
Charlie nodded, quietly making the solemn promise of helping Marinette. She had faced a lot and she was strong, but everyone needs allies and friends. She just hoped that Marinette at least would find them as a useful resource.
“You’re not a burden Marinette” Charlie spoke softly, trying to make her point across while not immediately refuting her “you were forced here, you didn’t have any control over this situation and I can assure you, we will do anything in our power to help you return home”
Marinette smiled, Charlie was such a nice person, well, demon. She had been nothing but supportive even going as far as buying her clothes and arranging for her and Tikki to be as comfortable as possible. Vaggie wasn’t as talkative as Charlie but she
“Thanks, Charlie” Marinette smiled, she felt more at ease letting it all out from her chest “but I do need to understand that, but yesterday night your father mentioned the second extermination. He makes it sound as if it was an event, you’re all familiar with it and…I…I don’t want to be the cause of any harm”
Charlie nodded while looking at Vaggie, they both had talked about this a length the night before. Charlie explaining what a holder of a miraculous was. They all represented a feature of humankind, anything that humankind could use as an impulse to be a better version of themselves. Strong individuals often used it to make their most prominent traits stronger due to the use of magic. She could see it now in Marinette, her smile and often soft eyes, she was strong, brave, and had a contagious light.
She knew there were other jewels around the world and they both had talked about it, unfortunately, it seemed that Tikki and Plagg were one of the oldest pairs of Miraculous. Also, one of the most powerful. So powerful they both could change the fabric of the world.
Never the less, after all that talk Vaggie understood from where Marinette was coming from. Such a young age and she already had an incredible responsibility, not only with her friends but with the city and also the world.
“You won’t,” Vaggie said, surprising Marinette “We understand this is more than what you’ve probably faced, we would like to help in any way we can, and if one of them is explaining the goings of hell we will gladly do so”
Charlie smiled, taking his girlfriend's hand and squeezing it softly. Vaggie blushing a bit under that demonstration of love and Marinette melting at the sight.
“Thank you Vaggie” Marinette smiled, Tikki nodding at both of the teens that turned to look at her holder “so…the extermination….”
Charlie cleared her throat before looking at Marinette. Vaggie offering her support intertwining their fingers together.
“It is…a yearly event” Charlie started to explain, her voice somber and making Marinette pay full attention to her, in this moment Charlie looked more regal than ever “It started once many sinners came to hell, it became a problem with the overpopulation here in hell, as it seemed more and more humans were committing here after their deaths. It became a problem, and as such heaven decided to intervene.”
Vaggie leaned closer in Charlie’s space, her eyes looking down but trying to appear strong for Charlie.
“Legions of angels come every year, all of them just arriving just to complete one single mission” Charlie took a deep breath before looking into Marinette’s eyes “eliminating as many demons as possible”
Marinette’s eyes were wide open, she could barely imagine the massacre and it made her body shiver just thinking about it. It must be awful, especially for Charlie, she was their future queen, she felt it was her duty to protect them and the stories she had heard from the angel’s and archangels were all so different than how Charlie had painted them. Just thinking about them as killing machines, it made her feel scared about ever facing them.
“During twelve hours they are free to ream hell and just…kill demons” Charlie kept talking “unless you’re someone powerful or you are under the protection of one it’s all fair game. Just to even the numbers or well that’s what my father says”
Vaggie put her arm around Charlie’s shoulder, letting the demon princess fall into her embrace. It certainly had taken a toll on Charlie just telling her about that specific event.
“It’s a horrible day” Vaggie spoke, trying to let Charlie rest a bit “I’m fairly new and not enough powerful, if it wasn’t for Charlie I wouldn’t be here”
Marinette nodded, watching the exchange between the demons, it warmed her heart but the implications of the second extermination were plaguing her mind. She needed to know; it was crucial for her. She would have time to digest this soon, for now, she needed the information.
“So…. you’re telling me that” Marinette spoke, “If I ever get hurt under your protection…I will be dooming you all, along with the rest residents of hell?”
Charlie raised her gaze to stare again at Marinette’s eyes. She wished to say It wouldn’t, that it all had been just a fluke, that she was safe.
She couldn’t.
The nest words making her feel as if she was about to condemn the teenager.
“Yes” Charlie spoke, her voice soft but filled with regret “if anything happens to you, we will suffer the consequences”
Marinette gulped, her mouth suddenly dry and her heartbeat echoing on her ears. She slid down on the chair, holding her head with her hands. It all ended in her hands, which meant that maybe she would never be able to get out of the hotel, she would have to stay just to protect them. Just so they all could be alive. She wouldn’t be able to leave her room at all.
“How…how does that work?” Marinette spoke, fear in her voice which was quivering “I… I get hurt all of the time! I’m clumsy and I usually get injuries everywhere! Maybe small bumps from tripping over my own feet!”
Vaggie and Charlie exchanged confused looks before realization dawned on them.
Marinette thought that they would get punished if she had minor injuries, not if someone hurt her because they had failed to protect her.
“No!” Charlie screamed interrupting Marinette’s thoughts “we would face the consequences if we fail to protect you, not if you accidentally get hurt. Unless it's life-threatening we would face heaven’s wrath, you don’t have to worry about it!”
Charlie ran to Marinette’s side, placing one hand on her shoulder as softly as she could. Trying to comfort the small teen Charlie was able to break Marinette’s string of thoughts with that action.
“We’re supposed to be protecting you” Charlie spoke, talking slowly but firm as if trying to make the point across without being harsh “if we somehow fail, that will be on us, never on you Marinette”
The small teen nodded and nor for the first time she felt more at ease knowing the princess of hell would be protecting her.
“Besides you’re under the protection of my father” Charlie added, her smile a little bigger as she tried to make the situation lighter “No matter what we won’t fail, you don’t have to worry about it, besides my father has made it clear you’re out of limits.”
Marinette nodded, feeling her worries fade. At least for the most part, now the only thing worrying her was the audience with the king, but also the implications of the second purge.
“The…the king said, it would be far worse than before” Marinette spoke, “it...was it that bad?”
Charlie sighed nodding; she had been able to escape from it but the memory was fresh on the back of her mind. The screams, the darkness, the angels coming down like rain, the blood covering all of the buildings, and no one was safe from them, they defiled everything.
“It was something” Charlie spoke “I do not like to remember it, still gives me nightmares even after all this time. They all claimed it was our punishment, for letting that human meet their end here. My father couldn’t do anything, well, he barely did anything. Only high-level demons were safe, it was a massacre, and even if not a lot of people remember it, we took precautions for it to be almost impossible for a human to appear here again”
“Do…” Marinette gulped before she continued speaking “Do, do you believe it won’t happen again? Because I am a magnet for trouble, to be honest”
Charlie looked at Vaggie who shrugged, they both had talked about it and came up with some ideas and maybe some plans if it ever came to the point of sneaking Marinette out of the Hotel if only to stretch her legs if a lot of time had passed.
“I don’t believe so” Charlie spoke “we might be able to come up with something for you to not feel trapped here, but until we talk it with my father, I can’t say for certain what you will or won’t be able to do and what could we let you do, so far the hotel grounds are safe with the spell I’ve managed to complete along with a special barrier”
Marinette nodded, trying to distract herself from the chat looking at the clothes they had given her. She knew it wasn’t the ideal grounds but it was the best for now. Besides, she could remember the audience that she had been called to attend, and the sooner she faced the King the better, no matter how much she wished she didn’t have to go.
“Well” Marinette looked at Charlie “When are we leaving to see your father?”
Vaggie was the one who answered this time, coming to Charlie’s side and looking at Marinette. Concern was all over her features and Marinette didn’t know how to feel.
“I think by midday would be fine” Vaggie smiled at Marinette “It will give you enough time to ponder on what you’ve learned and to change of clothes”
Marinette nodded, feeling as they, both nourished to raise herself to her feet, just that motion made her move. With the corner of her eyes, she could see Tikki flying beside her as she walked to the elevator guided by the two female demons.
No one spoke a word, just letting Marinette get into her room. She barely whispered words of gratitude once in her room. Both of them looking at the small creation goddess that made a reassuring gesture to them, before glancing again at Marinette’s back and retreating from the room closing the door behind them.
The teen's feet moved on its own, leaving the clothes on the bed before taking herself a seat. She was still processing the information and all of the discoveries she had made in one single morning.
“Tikki…” Marinette spoke, a whisper that was barely heard “do…do you think I will be able to get through this?”
The small goddess smiled and flew right in her line of vision. She smiled and nodded, making the emotional teen return the smile.
“I believe in you Marinette” Tikki spoke “WE will be able to overcome this, together, with any new friends you make here”
Marinette raised her hands and cuddled her small friend, that small moment being a place where she found comfort. Something she knew it would be needed if she was going to meet the king.
As well as the demons who somehow were responsible for sending her here.
“Thank you Tikki,” Marinette said “Now, we better get ready for the audience with the king”
_______________________________________________________________
 Blitzo was scared.
There was nothing there, but we could hear the voices. All of them. He could feel the grabby hands, the steel from the knives, the stings of electricity, and hear the screams of his friends on his ears.
The sound of his heartbeat and the cold hard floor was his only reminders of being somehow alive.
He didn’t know how long he had been there, how hurt he was but he would do anything to escape that horrible place. No matter what, he would do it. He had to escape, he needed to scape.
Still, the ghosts of his past were hunting him without mercy.
“Please” he begged, his voice hoarse from screaming “please…make it stop…please”
With that, it all ended.
Blitzo had to blink before the light appeared from nowhere, blinding him and making him recoil to a corner of the room. Suddenly he was war, the floor wasn’t hard and he could feel something soft under his fingertips.
But he didn’t dare to open his eyes.
“Ah, I see you all have enjoyed your stay in my favorite dungeons” Lucifer’s voice broke the spell he was under, blinking a few times to adjust to the light he finally was able to see the King of hell “you all must’ve enjoyed the mandrake's creams, quite a beautiful plant that I managed to harvest and obtain from the human realm, don’t you think?”
Blitzo nodded before looking around, he was still in the throne room, Moxxie and Millie holding each other while murmuring comforting words, Loona was on edge but tried to appear indifferent about it. So, he just took her hand discreetly, feeling as she squeezed it in return.
“I..um…yes, your highness” Blitzo spoke, “for…for what reason are we still here?”
Lucifer laughed, it was certainly time for them to talk about Marinette, who would soon be arriving if his dear daughter had managed to inform him the right time of arrival.
Enough time to make them understand that if it were for him, he would’ve obliterated them into the kingdom to come.
“You, are here because you will meet the person whose life you’ve managed to fuck up” Lucifer spoke, his voice lowering and his smile widening stressing the words as if he was talking to barely born demons “You will be punished by her since she is the victim and you are the responsible for this mess”
All of the demon’s exchanged looks before returning to Lucifer. Confused and completely unaware of the meaning of this.
“I would’ve liked to kill you for this” Lucifer spoke “however this matter has to be talked about with the party affected by your actions and ineptitude. I have no other choice to obey, be grateful for that. Now please take a seat while we wait for our guest of honor”
All of the demons nodded before seats were presented to them. Following instructions, they all stayed there, trying to rest. It would be one hell of a ride and they all knew it.
Their only hope would be to plead for the girl to forgive them, and maybe ask for a lesser sentence if possible.
Even if they knew, they didn’t deserve it.
________________________________________________________________
Marinette looked at herself in the mirror, the clothes she had bought were quite nice and she couldn’t believe she had never tried this kind of style before. Her shirt had been inspired by Angel’s eyes, using the mix of black and bright pink spots to stand out. Her pants mainly pink complimenting the shirt along with some small details like black lines that made her legs look longer and making her natural curves stand out. The black leather jacket had been input from Vaggie but she had loved it, it made her look a little more mature than usual, her boots being dark and with a bit of heel to make her look taller, but comfortable enough for her to move and even run.
“I’m not overdressed…am I?” Marinette looked at Tikki, nervous and waiting for the small goddess approval of her choice in clothes.
Tikki looked at her holder, she looked beautiful and the combination of cute but punk styles made her stand out. She had enjoyed watching Marinette get out of her comfort zone while still maintaining her favorite colors on her.
“You look amazing Marinette!” Tikki spoke, Marinette looked calm and comfortable which made the outfit even better “I believe all of them will like it!”
Marinette smiled before looking again at her reflection, she had kept her twin ponytails but it looked wrong with this kind of outfit. Finally decided to just put half her hair up and leaving the rest down.
“I haven’t combed my hair like for what it feels like years” Marinette confessed to Tikki “I never thought I would do it again...much less in this circumstance
Tikki observer her holder, she was young and with such an amazing spirit. No matter how much she thought about how to come up with a plan to help her, nothing seemed to be able to work. Either she would end with her holder in hell forever, dooming her soul or in purgatory.
“We will get through this Marinette” Tikki smiled, reassuring the small teenager “I know it!”
Marinette laughed, no matter what Tikki seemed to be the one who always lifted her spirits, she had always wanted to be more confident and was glad to have such an amazing friend by her side like Tikki.
“Thank you, Tikki” Marinette smiled, she felt better than before as if the small reassuring words from Tikki were a balm that soothed her worries “I needed to hear that”
“Marinette!” Charlie knocked on the door interrupting the moment “We’re ready to go if you want, the ride might be a little long”
Marinette took a deep breath; she had been hoping to have more time for herself but it seemed to be impossible right now.
“I’m coming!” she finally spoke before Charlie could ask her if she was alright “Thanks Charlie”
Tikki giggled at the expression Marinette was making, she had expected the teen to get nervous but not go an hour rambling about how worried she was if she hurt someone in the hotel.
“You can do this Marinette” Tikki smiled and flew right to hug her holder’s cheek “I will be with you through every step”
Marinette took a deep breath to calm her nerves, Tikki’s closeness and warmth proving her of the reminder that she wasn’t alone. With calm and precise steps, she walked forward the door, her confidence she had gained since being Ladybug now showing in her posture and steps.
“Alright, let’s do this” she exclaimed before opening the door and being greeted by a smiling Charlie and Vaggie.
  Going inside the castle was another experience, every single servant bowing and just opening doors for them. She had been walking behind Charlie who seemed too uncomfortable in this place solely watching her posture.
Most of the servants seemed to be eager to please them, not like when she had arrived with Cherri the night she landed in hell.
“His majesty awaits,” A demon said before the huge doors Marinette hadn’t seen before, they were bigger and filled with black red colors and black swirls making it look magnificent, and scary thanks to the shadows placed strategically.
Charlie tensed more, barely noticeable but Marinette was able to catch her shoulders becoming rigid.
The doors creaked open and Marinette could make out the faint silhouette of a throne and she could faintly see other figures inside the room.
“I’m afraid his majesty has requested for the human alone to enter” the servant spoke, making Marinette glance at the two demonesses who were frowning “along with the goddess of creation”
Charlie immediately turned to face her, her expression showing how worried she was but how much she knew it was still Marinette’s decision. Tikki making an appearance floating closer to Marinette.
“You do not have to do it alone,” Charlie said, her voice urgent “if you wish us to have you there, we can go”
Marinette shook her head, while she might be more comfortable having around Charlie and Vaggie. But she knew it was an order from the King, and she should show that nothing would bring her down, no matter the outcome of the meeting.
“I’ll be fine” Marinette assured the princess “I will be fine and I will call for you if anything happens, ok?”
Charlie nodded and was pulled aside by Vaggie, who just nodded in Marinette's direction before quietly opening a path for Marinette to walk through.
Squaring her shoulders and breathing out Marinette walked forward. Tikki following her closely, she had to thank the small goddess for that.
She just hoped to be strong enough to face what was going to come.
________________________________________________________________
Everyone was brought back to his senses when a demon announced that the human had arrived. All of them fearful but with questions on their minds, how old could it be, how did it looked, where did it live, they were quite curious as to see who had been sent to hell.
However, they’ll all felt a need to break down when the doors opened.
It was a girl, a skinny teen, tiny and fragile even if she carried herself proud and confident.
But nothing that could deserve to be here in hell, they all knew it just seeing her as if the radiance her sole presence had was enough.
Dark blue hair long enough to reach her shoulders, bluebell eyes clear as the human sky they had seen once or twice, pale skin almost looking like a porcelain doll, and such a small build but with defined muscles from what they could see. A small floating creature beside her, completely red, eyes a dark blue as the night sky, with red marking on its body, the creature seemed to be powerful and they all were now painfully aware of how much they had fucked up.
The teen bowed in front of his royal highness, all of them just staring.
Her body language was guarded; however, her movements were graceful and almost seemed to glide while walking.
The biggest surprise of it all was the fire in her eyes.
Even if she had been pushed down, she was getting on her feet again, and was ready to fight.
“Hello miss Dupain-Cheng” Lucifer spoke, his voice smooth and luring her to come closer “I must present you, the I.M.P’s employees. The demons responsible for your stance in hell.”
The teen looked at them, her eyes making all of them feel awful about themselves. Slowly sulking on the chairs all of them averted their gaze, most of them looking down, showing their sorrow in the situation.
The girl turned to Lucifer once more, the frown on her face making her look so troubled they all felt another pang of regret and guilt filling their bodies.
“They…did it on purpose?” the small teen asked, her attention in the imps that were now waiting for the sentence “Why have you called me here, your highness? I am confused as to why it was important for me to meet them”
“Not only to meet them” Lucifer spoke while pacing lazily around the teen “you are the victim, and as far as rules go, it means you get to punish them”
They all heard the teen take a breath as a sign of surprise, all of them staring at the small human.
Her eyes were wide and scared, they probably deserved that reaction. Her hands shaking and her shoulders slumping.
“I…I have to?” the human asked in a soft voice, fright laced with her words “they…they gave the book to Lila?”
All of the IMP’s stood up from their seats shaking their heads as if at least that could clear up some of the misunderstandings. They all wanted to tell the girl they had never meant to be like this, that they had hoped to get the book before it all had happened, that it was just a mistake from their part, and that they were sorry she was paying for it.
“oh, no, no, no my dear child!” Lucifer spoke, his tone condescending but still amused “They lost the book that sent you here due to their incompetence”
The king laughed throwing his head back, meanwhile, the girl turned to face them and frowned, her eyes staring right into them full of surprise.
“Please, dear Blitzo” Lucifer purred his name, making him shiver in fear “explain dear little Miss Dupain-Cheng how are you responsible for her time in hell”
Blitzo fidgeted, his confidence gone now with the king looming over him like a hungry falcon, just waiting to pounce on him.
“I…I tripped” Blitzo spoke, still wary of the king beside the teen “I had the book in my hands, we were traveling to your world for…some business and …we…I… might have ended up losing the book by accident”
The girl had her mouth open in disbelief as the tiny floating creature shook its head in front of them.
“I…I can’t punish them if it wasn’t their fault!” the girl exclaimed fiercely turning to face the king “It was an accident!”
All of the imps gasped, not expecting this show of caring or worry directed at them. At best they expected to be yelled at, not…this.
“It is the rules that…” Lucifer began to speak but was interrupted by the teen
“I refuse to punish them!” she exclaimed; voice filled with passion “there has to be another way? Like…maybe…make them do something else? Something like…community service?”
Lucifer raised one of his elegant eyebrows, his smile a bit restrained as he turned to see the I.M.P’s, all of them cowering under his gaze. He hummed, it certainly was a new development but he had never met a holder so thoughtful for the rest, usually, someone would be furious. He could understand her anger, but it seemed it was directed to the person who actively used the spell rather than the demons that had lost the book, which was the source of the main problem.
“if you wish so” Lucifer spoke, his eyes remaining on the human “ I wouldn’t worry so much, these are expandable demons, after all, they all were born here in hell never possessed a human body.”
The girl crossed her arms, a show of defiance to the king. He chuckled before sighing, it was a lost battle, she had to dictate the terms even if he might be able to twitch her decision into something more entertaining.
“I believe you do not understand” Lucifer explained “This is meant to be punishment, not just a slap on the wrist”
Marinette frowned and looked down. She understood, but was not happy with having to ask for something drastic nor put their lives in danger, they hadn’t been the ones who pushed her through the portal, not the ones who tricked her, and certainly weren’t the ones who threatened her.
“What about…them…protecting me?” Marinette asked, looking at the King “the demons are after the miraculous and I do need 24/7 protection, Charlie nor the hotel staff can do it constantly, and even if they could, they need help. Place them under my command, they would pay by doing something they don’t like and I would be granted more liberty in my stay, as long as it takes.”
Lucifer’s smile widened; this girl was cunning. It was a fair argument; he knew he had been thinking about posting guards just to secure the stay of the little human. What he hadn’t expected was how she had managed to twist his intentions into that reasonable argument. Unfortunately, he loved to watch humans squirm, as well as the demons.
“But we shall make the rules clear” Lucifer smiled “you must know that they could always double cross…”
“They shall be assigned under me but take direct orders from Charlotte, the princess” the girl spoke, a smirk on her face “their main mission is to protect me along with the miraculous, should they fail to do this they will have to face your punishment, whatever you desire. Along with that, I want for them to never try to touch the miraculous, the consequences of that or doing anything that could cause me harm would immediately be punished by you, whatever you chose”
Lucifer blinked once, twice, and a third time. A chuckle escaped his lips before it became a full out laugh. He fell into his throne, holding his belly and struggling to breathe. He was fascinated by this development.
“So, you’re telling me” Lucifer drawled out once he had regained his breath “that you just want them to be your bodyguards and if not, they will face me?”
Marinette nodded; she had said that in more refined words. Still, she had made it open enough for Lucifer to put input on the punishment and how they would be bonded to do that work.
“Seems fair” Lucifer exclaimed, after a moment of thought, turning to the lesser demons smiling “It might as well start tomorrow, I will inform my daughter Charlotte so she can find suitable things for all of you to cooperate with during your stay in the hotel, can’t let you go live off for free from my daughter you know?”
With a final laugh, Lucifer hit two times the stone with his staff. The sound echoing as some weird magic surrounded him.
“I hereby accept this punishment and the conditions Marinette Dupain-Cheng has offered” Lucifer spoke, his voice being carried through the room by magic “The audience is complete and the guilty shall receive their punishment starting tomorrow morning under the management off my daughter Princess Charlotte Magne.”
With that the magic ceased and disappeared, everything coming back to normal at least for now. Marinette looked at the demons who seemed to be in an almost catatonic state. She took a step near them, only to be stopped by Lucifer’s hand.
“This would be all, my dear” Lucifer spoke, his smile wide and a hand towards Marinette “I hope this has pleased you”
Marinette nodded, hopefully, this would help her in the long run. She just hoped she could maintain the other miraculous in secret as long as she stayed in hell.
________________________________________________________________
Adrien was glad he had made it to the car before the gorilla arrived. Kagami still with him but never talking. Honestly, he was getting desperate, he had been trying so hard for her to like him and it seemed that she just had given up on him because of his mistake, one he was trying to fix.
“Hey…um…” Adrien spoke, trying to at least make some conversation out of Kagami “are we…okay?”
Barely concealing her amusement Kagami snorted, she had listened to the idle chatter and excuses Adrien had to feed them to explain himself and his actions. She understood but at the same time she was disappointed, she cared for Marinette a great deal and someone as lovely as her deserved the best.
Not just some half-assed apologies and empty promises, she deserved better and she was mad at him for just using the Akuma's as an excuse even after he had let pass the transgressions towards herself. Even if he had claimed to be interesting in pursuing a relationship by her side.
“That depends” Kagami cut him, raising an eyebrow “are you going to grow a spine, or are you going to keep letting her get away with everything?”
That made him wince, it had been a low blow but he deserved it. He had let Lila get away with so much, just letting all of his family walk over him and take advantage of him and his situation.
“I have to play by her rules” Adrien stated, he wanted to bring that liar down “I still have to keep up the image that they have of me, but I will be more active, I will talk about more things and I…I promise I won’t fail you nor anyone ever again”
Hidden in his backpack Plagg smirked, it seemed his kitten was now starting to catch up with the group. He still remembers how many of their kittens had used that tactic of a dumb pretty boy to move the strings and be in control of everything. He chuckled remembering that once he and his holder had ended up sweet-talking to the officers to let them go.
Such good times, just using your wit and improvising to make the best out of any situation. Maybe his kittens were not as creative and into the arts as Tikki’s holders, but they all could rely on their silver tongue and charm to bet the situation to turn around.
“I do believe in that Adrien” Kagami spoke, her voice ice cold “but you must know this change everything. I cannot keep up trusting you blindly. I need someone I can rely on”
Adrien nodded, he reached for her hand but she swatted it away. He turned to stare at her, scared he had overstepped or done something wrong.
“Until then…I believe we should be friends” Kagami exhaled, it had been hard to say but her feelings had changed “I do value our friendship, however, I do not wish to have a coward for a partner”
Kagami closed her eyes, she hadn’t been the best at voicing her feelings. Straight answers were the best even if they hurt.
“I…understand” Adrien spoke “I …hope I can prove to you, and myself that I deserve this second chance you’ve given me. Even if it isn’t as I expected for it to go”
Kagami nodded, just watching as Adrien took his things and left her alone. She had hoped to be able to forgive him easily, but she had to think about what he had done. He made mistakes and he was trying to make it right, but that didn’t change what had happened. It would certainly change the future, she just hoped he wouldn’t lose sight of what is important again.
Adrien closed the door, leaning on it for support, a heavy breath escaped his lips as he felt the weight of the interaction downing on him.
“I screwed it up Plagg” Adrien spoke softly to his kwami, who was still hiding in his clothes “I just…I want to prove them I can do it right this time”
Plagg nodded and smiled a bit, he was taking baby steps but it was all that mattered for now. He would need all the help he could get.
“Relax kid, you’ll be fine” Plagg smirked and winked at Adrien “with me by your side, what could go wrong?”
Adrien raised an eyebrow looking at his kwami, a smile on his face. It was the kind of thing Plagg would say to cheer him up without being forward with it.
“You’re right” Adrien smiled gratefully at the words of support from Plagg “Thanks”
With that last exchange, Adrien left the school grounds, hoping and playing with all his being that he would be able to keep up with this plan and that he wouldn’t screw it up.
________________________________________________________________
Marinette was exhausted, while it had taken hours for the I.M.P’s to stop thanking her it had taken longer to get their facts straight and even longer for them to get both parties to agree with each other.
For hours they had sat at the lobby discussing the terms, Alastor writing them on a contract they would have to sign and Charlie being generally nervous or the mediator. She had seen as the lower demons had started arranging a schedule with the princess, one of them taking a day of the week to actually rest and maybe do some shopping or getting their usual tasks in their normal life. After that came the issue of Marinette being there, and what she could do while inside the hotel.
Well, that had been partially difficult until Charlie remembered her mother’s designing room that was abandoned. She had tons of fabrics that had been left there and a lot of instruments, that while old, were quite adept and in good shape. It had been one of the Queen’s interests for a few decades, soon losing interest, and after that leaving it forgotten.
Charlie said she was free to be there after Niffty had cleaned everything.
Marinette could barely wait, and she had even managed to let Charlie give her more chores around the hotel, one of them being helping around the kitchen. She still was a klutz but she knew she could do it, besides that she wanted to give them tasty treats after what they had done for her and show her gratitude once in a while.
“I guess it is time to go to sleep Tikki,” Marinette said to the little goddess as she climbed the stairs “It was quite an eventful day”
Tikki nodded, giving Marinette a tired smile. She had kept it all to herself but she thought Marinette might’ve been overdoing herself. Some rest and a good day’s vacation would do wonders for her holder.
Marinette yawned again, covering it with her hand. Soon enough they arrived at her room. Not losing a minute of time Marinette was already in the bathroom getting t ready for bed.
Tikki observed the night sky in hell, it certainly was something she hadn’t expected to be able to witness. After all these years she had hoped the good luck would help her holders to have a better life. Not to end in a place like this.
She remembers one holder, who would always sing to keep his demons away. His favorites songs were often composed by himself, a true artist, someone who loved the spotlight and the spotlight loved him. Tuning to Marinette she hoped that someday the girl would build up her confidence. She enjoyed watching her little bugs shine bright and show the world their light.
“Good night Tikki” spoke Marinette breaking the silence, and making Tikki jump “Sweet dreams”
Tikki’s heart warmed at the sight of Marinette curling into the bed, she was emotionally and mentally drained. It had been taxing but it was enough for her, at least for now her holder was safe.
“Night Marinette” Tikki exhaled as she flew to lay on Marinette’s side. The small goddess started to fall asleep with a smile on her face. She just knew things would work out.
________________________________________________________________
Angel had spent his whole day in the studios, doing whatever his awful boss demanded from him. From filming specials to performing private shows for the clients who had asked for him. Finally leaving after Valentino thought he had made a point with his decision to participate in the princess' hotel idea.
Walking down the hallways of the porn studios he thought about how he was going to return the hotel, sighing he just could imagine what they would say about him, while he had been promiscuous in his life as a human it had been a while since he had enjoyed being a porn star in hell, even longer since he had enjoyed working in the studios knowing everyone would love to be in his place.
He always got the best of the best, from outfits designed solely for him to the finest jewels and pretty great drugs to last him a lifetime. He was Valentino's pet and side lover, or at least that’s what he thought, until one day in a tantrum Valentino raised his hand against Angel. Ever since that day Angel could identify the signs of abuse, he knew what Valentino would do and how not to give him the satisfaction. He had seen abuse firsthand since he was a child.
Ever since he had that awful realization of Valentino just considering him a pretty possession, an object, just arm cady and a whore, he had fallen hard. First, he dived directly into drugs and decided to throw himself at whoever wanted him, doing tantrums and rebelling.
Then after some time, he realized how much self-harm it was, all thanks to Cherri, he started the process of detoxing himself thanks to her. Even if he still dwelled into his favorite drug it was often used only to get him through the day, shitty shifts after his awful job used to cause him anxiety in the end, he tried to only use weed. He wasn’t perfect but it had become a coping mechanism for him, even if sometimes he wished he could just stop it altogether. But they were baby steps while hiding his intentions from Valentino
Angel now knew that, even if the princess and her girlfriend hadn’t opened the hotel, he would’ve searched for a place to stay and get better. Being it trying to scape Valentino or just doing his best until he could go out during extermination to end his life if it became too much for him.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt as bad as he did today, Valentino had once again broken up with Vox so Angel had been the lucky one to satisfy Valentino's needs. Even after he fought tooth and nail Valentino had just reciprocated until Angel could no longer defend himself. Once satisfied the overlord of lust had left Angel to leave, even staring proudly at with the wounds he had left in the spider demon's body.
His fur was mated by the body fluids and his legs felt like they were going to give out, his wounds weren’t deep but kept bleeding leaving dark marks on his usual jacket and he could feel some flowing down his legs.
Finally, he was able to walk to the hotel, his wounds barely closing themselves. Sneaking himself in, he knew it was too late and he didn’t want to deal with the princess getting over herself with worry and the disapproving stares from Vaggie. While yes, he knew he should be striving to get better he chad to obey Valentino, and he had made Angel take his favorite drugs while working as a punishment. Always claiming it had been the spider demon’s fault for disobeying him. So, he just made sure no one else was around as he slipped into the hotel, using the shadows to hide and walking as quietly as possible.
He didn’t want them just to see him in his worst, but fortunately for him all of the occupants of the hotel were asleep. He looked around the lobby and let out a breath of relief, not even Husk was on the hotel’s bar. Now thinking about how to hide his wounds he remembered on the early morning he had left some of his clothes for laundry, so they still should be in the washing room of the hotel, probably already dry. He just hoped Niffty had left them folded so he could take them to his room and use that chance to change into his favorite long-sleeved sweatshirt and long pants.
Arriving at the washing room he smiled at the sight of his clothes. He had been lucky, now he changed in his newly washed clothes and left the other ones in some water for the washing machine, the dried blood slowly dissolving in it. Proud of himself Angel walked slowly to the kitchen, his stomach demanding food in a rather loud way.
“Maybe painkillers will help” he murmured before getting water ready for a tea, grabbing an apple and giving it a bite “and so will some food…”
He looked around the fridge and found some leftovers, at least he could get something to eat after that awful day. Leaving the food on the microwave to be heated Angel sat on a chair, he sighed blissfully. Finally, alone and no one nagging him, his legs finally being able to rest too. As soon as he took the painkillers, he would address his wounds.
It wasn’t that bad once he thought about it, while he could handle Valentino, he didn’t want the rest of the hotel to see him in such a pitiful state. Besides he would hate to put anyone there in danger, with the back of his hand he touched his cheek noticing his makeup was all messed up.
With a scowl, he grabbed a small washcloth, wet it, and slowly he wiped out the makeup from his face. Some of it came with blood staining the fabric, but he had expected that a broken lip would leave some blood. He rinsed and repeated the process two times, finally, the third one coming clean enough for him to be satisfied, he ran his tongue across his lips wincing when he felt the sting of the wound.
Sighing he let his shoulders slump, his back resting against the chair as he tried to take a breath the pain making it hard for him. With one swift movement, he raised his sweatshirt to check on the one Valentino had left on his torso when he heard someone gasp.
Raising his head, he saw them.
Two pairs of blue eyes staring directly at him.
Both of them with their eyes wide open, barely blinking as they stared at each other.
The water boiling was the only thing that broke the trance they were so deep in.
“What happened?” she asked, breaking the silence and the eye staring contest they had been engaged for the last minute, voice soft and carefully walking towards the tall demon. The small goddess floating by her side.
Angel however was too stunned to move or articulate and answer.
THANK YOU FOR READING THIS CHAPTER!  Remember if you want to beadded to the tag list reblog or send me a message! I love all of your comments and I will answer any questions you have if you want! <3 <3
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Hi! Last week, with the publishing of the 20th chapter of Hasard, I reached the 100 kudos on the fic, so to celebrate it, here’s some kind of bonus chapter where I talk a little about the conception of the story, along with comments about each chapters. 
Enjoy!
----
So… 20 chapters and 100 kudos already. To be honest, by the time I started imagining this story, I wasn’t really expecting to be able to celebrate that milestone of kudo on a single fic and even if I already celebrated the 2000 kudos in general this year, if we make a quick calcul based on the numbers of kudos and all the fics I’ve published, at the time I’m writing those words, it’s the same that if each one of my fic had only 20 kudos… So yeah, finally reaching the hundred on a single one makes me so happy \o/
Anyway, here’s some trivia and fun facts about Hasard and the first twenty chapters of the story.
First of all, some history:
I had the idea for Hasard in May 2018 as I was watching the tv show Lucifer (I am not up to date with it, please don’t try to spoil me this show ^^’) and I imagined one scene that just… shaped the entire story and it took me less than a few hours to know that I would write it. Even if I wasn’t sure how long it would be and that there had been some changes. And no, I won’t tell what scene kickstarted it all because she still has to come and it could be quite a huge spoiler. 
Following it, my brain quickly went into developing the full story and a few things changed. On the top of my head, I can say that Maiev was meant to be more on her own, almost a complete independent Hunter that would have also been resented by the other Hunters, along with a way more black and white view of the demons. She was meant to be more aggressive against all demons and really thinking that they all deserved to die, but I softened that side of her as I shifted the world building with the presence of hybrids. 
At first, the hybrids were meant to be a really rare kind and I wanted to keep that status for a few select characters because it could have brought some really good story for them. Then, as I kept working on the worldbuilding, I came to the idea that actually, hybrids were extremely common, but at the same time, the demon’s presence was still a secret from most of the world because most hybrids started centuries ago and their blood and physical attributions were weakening the more they were reproducing. So, about 80% of the world is made of hybrids of all kinds of generation (who is my way of scaling the demonic influence on their life) and the 20% left is shared with the full demons and full humans. 
Full demons are simply people who don't have a single drop of human blood in them. Usually, they are born from two other full demon parents or they just appeared like that (that’s the mytho). They are extremely powerful and good magic users, but now, they are rare. It was easier to be a full demon millenia ago when they ruled over the world and the few that are left in the current world of Hasard, survived either by hiding really well, manipulating their way to stay alive, or simply because they accepted to work with the humans and they went on. 
My best example of a full demon is Velen. 
The full humans, are the humans who either had never gotten a single drop of demon’s blood in their bloodlines, either they purged the bloodline after making sure that there had been at least 10 generations since the last time a hybrid was born (technically, every child following it would be considered as an hybrid, but the other parent would be a full human to weaken the demon’s blood which each new generation). Full humans are rarer than full demons and they tend to be bad news as almost all of them are associated with the Priesthood (who’ll get some more explanation later.)
I haven’t presented yet one of them to give an example, but one is ready to show up in the Second arc of the story. Won’t say who to not spoil the surprise x)
As for hybrids, there are two kinds. The one born from a demon and a human, and or hybrids (two hybrids will keep creating hybrids and technically, as long as one of the parents has human blood, the bloodline will stay a hybrid one). And the second one hadn’t been introduced yet. We have characters that are that kind, but it’s some worldbuilding elements that will show up later and so, I'll keep it to myself for now. Feel free to theorize though! And usually, most hybrids will simply call themselves demons instead of showing signs of weaknesses by not being a full one.
For the title of the story, it had been extremely hard for me to find one. Ever since I started preparing everything, it had a codename and it was “Modern AU” and it stayed like that until the very minute of the publishing of the first chapter. I was already going towards “Le Hasard Fait Bien Les Choses” but I was bothered because it was French, and no matter what, I couldn’t find a good English idiom that would have all the nuances of the French one. The only thing that comes close to it would be “Fate is a funny thing” and yet, I’m not entirely satisfied with it. So, after a long debate with myself and help from other people, I came to the conclusion that I had to keep the French title if I wanted to be happy with it. 
It might not help much to get people interested, and I’m considering adding “Fate is a Funny Thing” after it but I’m debating it.
I think that's already a lot, so let's move to the trivia per chapters:
A Muffled Shout In The Night
Oh boy, first chapter! I was so excited to finally start the story but I was also really stressed. I tried to give away a quick summary of how the universe was working, along with my two main characters + showing up the first supportive characters towards Maiev. Trying to present all the cast (so adding Illidari and more about Illidan) right in that chapter wouldn't have really worked so, instead, I went to show that a more "Legion-y" timeline could be expected thanks to Khadgar and Velen's presence in the chapter. 
I kinda hope that I succeeded to already show Maiev's obsession towards the Betrayer through her first lines.
Though I will be one hundred percent honest with you. The end of the chapter with Illidan running away, don't expect much from that interaction. I kind of always forget about it unless I'm reading back the chapter… I only needed a reason for them to stop fighting and the chapter to carry on.
But who knows, maybe I'll tie it to something one day.
Two Black Coffees And A Meeting, Please
When writing it, I always knew that Drelanim was on the other side of the call (or at least another Hunter) but as I read the moment a few times, I realized that I could have gone for a completely different way. One that would have probably surprised everyone.
But yeah, in another universe, it's Illidan who calls Maiev because he's in front of her place as they decided to meet for breakfast there. It would have been quite nice and unexpected for the story, especially that Illidan would have gotten right away the reveal that Maiev was actually the Warden as she would have complained about the wounds of the night. 
In the end, I went on with my first idea and made them meet for good in the chapter.
And, like with the first chapter… the "current problem" that he talks about to Kor'vas went nowhere… I'll more than probably get him to acknowledge some uninteresting side story for it at some point.
Memories Of A Rainy Day That Will Never Be Forgotten
For that one, one word: Ouch.
By the time I started to write this chapter, I was also preparing the Advent Calendar of 2019 and I had decided on telling Naisha's story, and I had to realize that I still had to foreshadow some elements from it to make it work. Of course, the title is fully referencing the day she died and the demon that Maiev killed right at the beginning of the chapter was similar to Naisha, putting Maiev in a stabbing mood. And it led us to another necessary addition for the Calendar's chapter: Malfurion.
(I'm also wondering how many people guessed right away that Malfurion was the one Illidan was calling…)
Brother, My Brother, Tell Me What We're Fighting For? 
Even if Malfurion had more of a cameo than anything in the Calendar's story, I felt the need to introduce him to put the bases of the twins' relationship. I always knew that he was a doctor and that he was mostly helping Illidan when he was getting in trouble, and as their backstory is different from WoW and that they are both demons, I didn't want to go on the canon path for them. 
I cannot tell much about it because we'll get fast to their backstory (Second arc) but here, Illidan and Malfurion mostly grew up in a world where it was them against the rest of the world. They were born during the glorious days when demons ruled the world and they saw it change through the millennia that followed. After everything, they would be devastated to lose the other and suddenly be the only one left. This is why they are way closer than they could ever be in canon (and also Tyrande isn't part of their backstory so it helped them keep a good relationship). Sometimes, they part ways for a few decades. Malfurion goes back to medical school somewhere and makes sure that he's up to date for it, or Illidan just moves with his clan to experience new things. But they stay in contact and always come back in proximity of one another.
The end of the chapter was my obligatory "shock reveal/cliffhangers" before a break. But well, I wanted to keep the Legion's existence in my sleeve for a little longer, but I realized that it would allow me to make them into a concrete threat as the story will progress + allowing Illidan and, mostly, the Illidari to be a little more presents into the story.
Actually, the chapter's name comes from a song from the occidental version of the first Pokemon movie. It's a line from the song that plays when the Pokemon and their clone fights, and i used it mostly for the brother's mentions and because it would totally be a thing said by one of the twins in their past…
A Flower Arrangement Made With Your Face In Mind
At that time, I wanted to make a chapter to develop a little more the supporting characters of the cast, and as I was taking back the writing of the fic after a four or five months break, I thought it would be nice. 
So, we got a little side dish of Illidari for it and that’s pretty much the only chapter (until now) where Illidan or Maiev barely appears in it. Yet, I threw some worldbuilding and foreshadowing in it and I still like it, so it isn’t really a filler.
I’ll probably do more chapters like that in the future, but I’ll see with the pacing of the story.
Willingly Accepting Your Death Isn't As Easy As I Thought
I don’t have much to say about this chapter. I still really like it and especially Maiev and Velen’s interaction. 
Along with showing that we were far from a potential romantic relationship, at least on Maiev’s side x)
A Laugh That Will Echo Through The Ages
Oh my God, that chapter! I could probably talk about it for hours but we would quickly reach the spoiler territory so I’ll see what I can tell without shooting myself in the foot.
I loved giving Khadgar some more identity and I like his relationship with Maiev. In the story, they are around 10 years apart, with Khadgar being the youngest. He’s like an honorary younger brother to every Hunter and even if Maiev won’t admit it, she’s kinda thinking the same. 
If he had been in the spotlight for this chapter, it was actually because I was thinking of writing his backstory for the Calendar of 2020 but in the end, I scrapped the idea and wrote something else. But It’ll happen at some point.
You Were In My Dream Last Night, And I Found You That Morning
A simple and nice chapter to calm down from the action heavy that was the precedent. I do throw some crumbs of foreshadowing and backstory, mostly for Maiev, but we will have to wait quite some time for the full one. Even if to be honest, before I release it fully, there will probably be some people that will stitch everything from my crumbs.
Illidan’s dreams are meant to be a plot point all through the story, and I decided to start them with this chapter. And of course, we can see that it’s the first chapter where Illidan, even if he isn’t conscious of it, starts to like Maiev more than he should have at that point.
A Red Dress And Heels To Hide The Knife In Plainsight
I loved writing that one. Showing that Maiev had more hobbies than hunting demons, along with showing how you had to act to get her to do things that she would refuse to do otherwise. Most of the time, if Sira gently asks if she wants to go do some shopping, Maiev always has something else to do. Not that she hates shopping, just that she thinks there’s better things to do. 
I could probably go more about Worgens and their existence, but it would spoil some part of the story :/ 
And honestly, I had an alternate version of this chapter where Illidan saw Maiev and Sira hurrying in the streets, followed them and he would have eavesdropped on the conversation about him. It was obviously bad because it was confirming that Maiev was at least a Hunter (which he won’t know until a while by that time) and it would have been totally an excuse for smut x)
A Warning Falling In Deaf Ears
With this chapter, I’ve been working on mixing the idea of chapters 5 (to concentrate on rest of the cast) with more of the main story. Like that, I show that there’s more than Illidan and Maiev in this universe, but at the same time, I’m still progressing their story by sharing the chapter between the two. I really liked writing Kayn like that and I think that one of my favorite things to write in this story, it’s Illidan and Malfurion interacting.
A Touch So Familiar, Yet So Strangely Threatening
I remember writing that chapter and suddenly realizing that it was going to be longer than the precedent, and i thought for a moment that I had to cut it in half, but I couldn’t find a satisfying way to do it, and it would have fucked up my outline, so I just carried on with it until I had told everything that I had to. 
With that chapter, I’m trying to show that Maiev can be really crazy when it comes to the Betrayer and his followers, but I can assure that she wouldn’t wound any of the Hunters, even if they cannot really be sure about it. And the little dialogue with the B-word made me laugh and yes, Maiev already called the Betrayer a bitch to his face. In 13 years, it would have been weird that she didn’t think of it at least once.
For the rest of the chapter, I just wanted to show that Maiev and Illidan were becoming comfortable with each other + setting up a reason for her to be worried about Illidan to show him her good side.
Screaming Under The Full Moon Won't Change Your Fate
The one thing I keep from this chapter, is that I can’t wait to dive more into Velen and Maiev's relationship.
Otherwise, yeah, if Illidan were to go into a fight only wanting to use magic, he could kill Maiev without breaking a sweat. But he likes the challenge and feels like it wouldn’t be satisfying to annihilate her with just a spell, so he’s fighting blade against blades, unless Maiev is really close to kill him.
A Fateful Call That Only You Can Be Blamed For
I have nothing much to say about it. It was one chapter that I really wanted to write and publish, because it’s the one where Illidan just let his guard down around Maiev for good, and now that he won’t try to trap her into admitting that she is the Warden, it allows him to see Maiev in another light.
That anyone can guess what it is.
Oh yeah, just that I threw some good crumbs of the fact that Illidan is a self-loathing addict in my fics and that it’s one of the reasons he falls so hard for Maiev after this chapter. But it’ll be a good talk for either another chapter, or later.
Going Separate Ways For A Night But Not The Life
Nothing to say, it was a transitional chapter to show that Illidan really believes that Maiev isn’t the Warden, and that there’s more than the fight to them.
Stab Me Once, Shame On You. Stab Me More Than Twice...
A fun little chapter. Velen is more modern than most people can believe and once again, I like writing about the interactions between Illidan and Malfurion. Of course, if you go back to read this one after chapter 20, you might see that I already knew how it was going to happen from this chapter, as the 20th got his title in this one.
I just hope that people read the story from the Advent Calendar 2020 to know what happened in the middle of it.
And From There, Fate Laughed At Them
I could talk for hours about Cordana in my AU. I just love what I’m going to do with her characters and I hope that my readers will like it too. 
But to give some crumbs, Maiev and Cordana have been best friends since high school and she’s the first long-time friend that Maiev had made in her life and thanks to Cordana, she met with Sira and the group, but most importantly Velen. Cordana is a hybrid of sixth generation, so her demonic attributes are almost non-existent, but she kept some supernatural ability from her legacy. She knew from a very young age that she wanted to hunt demons and protect people, and met with Velen early to prepare her future job. Once she discovered that Maiev had some natural abilities to hunt demons, she saw them as the future “Best Best Friend and Hunters” and convinced Maiev to give a go to the hunt. She was forced to move out in another city but she kept contact with Maiev and the rest of the group. In terms of strength, abilities and hunting score, she is right behind Maiev.
Otherwise, I will add that I had a lot of fun writing the conversation between them about Illidan and how he would be better than the Betrayer *winkwink*.
I didn’t make it clear in that chapter and it won’t be important, but Khadgar has a crush on Cordana.
Cordana meant well with the message, and even if in real life, I would condone such action, here, I needed it to move things around because yes, neither Illidan nor Maiev would make the first step if it wasn’t for Cordana.
During the fight, at the beginning of the scene, Illidan totally complimented the Warden on her abilities but don’t try to make him admit it.
Last thing: my nickname is Fate. I’m the one laughing.
Games, Games, All Is Games
I don’t really have anything to say about this chapter.
Sometimes, Cowardice Allows The Survival Of The Smartest
To be perfectly honest, I regret how I handled Cordana’s week in the story because I’ve barely done anything with her but I can explain where the problem is. I knew that I wanted Illidan to discover the warden’s identity on chapter 20, and I planned all my updates around that one fact, but when it came to the outline, I wasn’t sure what to tell between the chapter 13 and 20 to reach that point and thanks to the Calendar, I moved things around that one and I ended up having the idea of making Cordana appears (She should have come in person in the story much, much later). And as I needed chapters 18 and 19 to build up to the reveal, I ended up completely stuck and making her appearance too fast and if it wasn’t for the message, she would have been useless to the story. But I realized it too late and I couldn’t rework my outline in time.
But well, i’ll give her a better mini-arc in the second arc of the story to atone for it.
Otherwise, I hope that the feel of the countdown to the reveal starting by the end of the chapter had been caught by some people x) It’s obvious to me, but well, i’m the writer.
Step By Step, Tick Tock Said The Clock
Just a build up chapter for the 20th. Even if I really like it and that I’m preparing the ground for future plotlines but I’ll let you guess which one it could be x) 
I know I haven’t make it clear in the chapter, but Malfurion knew that Illidan was lying when he pretended that his problem was the Warden “may-be-may-be-not-a-hybrid/demon” but as he also know that his brother is a “stubborn motherfucker” he let it slid. 
And yes, somewhere in my mind, there’s an alternate universe where Maiev accepted Illidan’s invitation and that they would spend the evening at her place. Without a reveal first.
Any Last Wish?
I don’t really have something to add to this chapter. I succeeded to write it just as I wanted.
I just had a long debate with myself as to how I wanted it to end, as I had the choice between cutting it right as Illidan is saved by the Warden (maybe not revealing her identity before the next chapter, or it would have been the last line) or just as I did, by them reaching her place first. I chose the latter because I want Chapter 21 to start with a really specific scene and I thought that it was better than a cheap cliffhanger. 
The last thing I'll add, is that for the story to go well, I had to make Illidan be the first to be aware of the identity of the other, mostly because he can be the one to change his mind more easily about wanting to kill the Warden. If it had been Maiev discovering that Illidan was the Betrayer at this moment of the story, he would have died.
And now, because I'm not done yet, here’s some info about the bonus chapters that were published independently from the main story!
AC Day 8: A Morning
First calendar, in 2018, and I already knew that I was going to write Hasard. It had no name by this time, but I had written that small scene to try out a few things and see how it’ll work.
There’s a really high chance that I end up rewriting it for the main story, but I think that a few elements will change. We’ll see.
AC19 Day 24: Hasard: Naisha
Probably the worst (in terms of feels) chapter of the story yet.
Naisha is probably the character who had a story and fate the closest to canon and I wanted to keep it like that, as it allowed to shape even more the hate between the Warden and the Betrayer. Honestly, she wasn’t deserving of a death like that, especially that if the Betrayer hadn’t intervened that day by trying to kill Maiev, Naisha would have survived.
Actually, in any other universes/storylines possible, she would have survived. Unfortunately for her, she fell right into the feud and became a victim of it.
At this point of the story, Illidan isn’t even completely aware of what happened that day, and he has no idea who Naisha was. All that he knows is that he thought to have killed the Warden, only to find her, even more angry in the following week. He just knows that he had killed the wrong person, but he had no idea who. Maiev herself doesn’t know for sure that it was the Betrayer the culprit, as she couldn’t see clearly in the rain.
Of course, it’ll end up being brought up in the story :)
AC20 Day 8: Hasard: Malfurion’s Hellish Day
It should have been Khadgar's backstory actually for that Calendar. But even if I have a good idea about it, I realized that I wasn’t completely inspired and that I was missing a few details to be able to write it. So, in the end, I went desperately after another idea and thanks to Melowen, I think, she got me on the idea of writing about Malfurion.
In the end, this chapter, meant to be a funny one with Illidan and Maiev forced to be in the same place for the same job, with Malfurion, aware that it would be a catastrophe to let them discover the truth, ended up shaping the last chapters currently published.
And if you are wondering, no, Illidan wasn’t trying to trick his brother in giving him the secret identity of Maiev. He was just trying to get his brother approbation about the woman he was starting to crush on.
The line: ‘“Yeah, everyone tells me that I look like a famous actor,” Malfurion faked a chuckle, glancing at the woman.’ is a reference to my Bodyguard AU where Illidan is an actor. 
Alright, that’s all for the trivia! Thanks for reading this bonus chapter, and the main story until now, and I hope you’ll keep enjoying reading Hasard!
Rose
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bumbleberrysky · 4 years
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alexa, play candyshop (bass boosted) | 01
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pairing: gabriel x reader genre: soulmate au, canon divergent around s13, hurt/comfort, humour, future smut (probs) wc: 3.2k rating: sfw warnings: none except the appearance of battered gabriel fresh out of asmodeus’ hold notes: welcome to my first dive into writing for supernatural! i saw someone say that s13 lit a fire under their ass like nothing else and honestly i don’t think i could have described it better. i binged so much while catching up the past few weeks idk who i am anymore
You knew there was a reason some divine power brought you to the Winchesters all those years ago, but to this day you still have no idea what that reason is. It's something you're destined to find out soon though, especially when you return to the bunker after months away and find not only a new face, but one that belongs to someone who up until that point you'd thought was dead. What does his return have to do with the changes you're suddenly experiencing in yourself? Will you finally find out the reason you'd been brought here in the first place? Maybe...
Chuck works in mysterious ways after all.
next.
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“Honeys, I’m home!”
The bunker has the same light aroma of musty air and metal as you let yourself in through the heavy front door, feet carrying you, out of habit more than anything, to the steel landing that marks the entrance to the fortress. It’s been so long since you were last here that the two men you used to hunt with regularly have likely forgotten they gave you a spare key. Well, they hadn’t exactly given it to you so much as you’d made a copy on the down-low and kept it for occasions such as this.
One hand keeps pressure on your arm, an attempt to stem the bleeding, and the other carries your single carry-on bag. You make it about halfway down the stairs before your gaze swings out over the foyer and you freeze, mid-step.
Sam and Dean, the two figures you expected to find here, are standing stock-still with their guns half-poised (not directed at you) and expressions on their faces that are a combination of shocked, pissed, and extremely confused (mostly directed at you). Following the line of their weapons leads you to the other two occupants in the room, most definitely unexpected and completely unfamiliar.
One is in rags, cowering, and whimpering, unrecognisable underneath filthy tangled hair that covers his face, and the other is in a prim suit marred only by blood and a bit of dirt, barely a single strand of dark hair atop his head out of place.
“Twinkletoes? What the hell are you doing here?!”
It’s Dean’s stupid, old nickname for you that breaks you out of your shock, a glare already falling onto your face with the practised ease of muscle memory.  
“I’ll answer that when you tell me what the hell I just walked in on—” You come the rest of the way down the stairs, slower and more cautious now, with your gaze trained on the two at the other end of the table. It’s when the man in rags finally looks up from where he had been cowering and you catch a glimpse of his face, bloody and bruised but instantly familiar, that your words swell and catch in your throat.
“… Gabriel?”
The brothers in front of you heave a great, unanimous sigh, a look passed between them telling you that you’re about to be on the receiving end of a very ludicrous and typical Winchester story.
x     x     x
The first time you met Gabriel was not long after you’d gone through the biggest plot twist of your entire life. You’d gone to sleep in your bed, in your home, and woken up in a completely different part of the world, like some magician had snapped their fingers and you’d been the punchline of their very next trick. Much to your regret and distaste, some minor investigation revealed that where you’d woken up in the backseat of a car on the side of the road was in some state in the US. You’d sworn to yourself that you would never step foot here in your entire life and then, like God or whoever reigned above was laughing straight in your face, you’d just up and woken up in some random car in a place that made you long to be literally anywhere else.
Preferably somewhere where the occupants didn’t have such easy access to guns.
…like the two men who screamed and pointed theirs at you when you popped up from their backseat after they climbed into the cabin, fast food in their arms.
That was the first time you’d met the infamous hunting brothers, the Winchesters, and the first time of many you’d nearly died in their company.  
It had taken a while for them to trust you, but after you inviting yourself onto a few of their cases and saving their asses a handful of times (ignoring the amount of times they saved yours because you forgot that almost every American slept with a gun beneath their pillow) they’d eventually taken you under their proverbial wing. It helped that you had literally nowhere else to go and nothing but the clothes on your back and a bare handful of belongings to your name. Once they figured out you weren’t hiding anything up your sleeve and that you’re just naturally annoying and a little dumb, they’d happily invited you to become an official-unofficial part of their little hunting gang. This means you’re also familiar with the hilarious angel they have in their back pocket. Castiel is a riot and one of the things you miss most when you go off to hunt on your own.
Having been around during the whole ordeal of Lucifer and Michael going through the motions of continuing their family spat on an apocalyptic scale, you too grew to be familiar with their youngest brother, the archangel Gabriel. Of course, while you’d been there for a fair amount of the angel-turned-trickster’s shenanigans, you weren’t there for the final appearance he made at a hotel in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. In complete juxtaposition to the fact that you could count on one hand the amount of times you’d interacted properly with Gabriel, the sensations you experienced at the news of his sacrifice, his death, were unlike anything you’d ever felt before. You like to consider yourself much more emotionally healthy and with an emotional range far larger than that of a teaspoon and the Winchesters’, but that… that news was something that it had taken you months to recover from fully.
And even then, apparently your recovery wasn’t as complete as you’d thought, because hearing what the boys have told you now has made your eyes burn and your stomach turn into a nest of manic bees, your insides lined with flowers and pollen. You think, for a moment, that you just might be sick.
You’re sitting in the library, Gabriel having been taken to a room of his own by one Winchester while the other fills you in before they’re both reunited before you, and you’re in the kind of mood where you sort of want to just sit there and dissociate for a few hours, truthfully. You can tell you’re not going to get that opportunity though, so in the wake of the bombshell they’d just dropped on you about all you’d missed in the past few months—that they had apparently forgotten to tell you over the phone when you checked in occasionally— you do the next best thing you can think of for the moment.
Put it on the backburner, baby.
You massage your temple with your fingers as you lean your head into your hand, a sigh escaping through your nose. “See, this is why it feels like I have been brought on as a babysitter—I leave for a few months and you old men manage to dig up another almost-apocalypse and find and raise Lucifer’s kid?”
“Alright, first of all,” Dean whips out a finger to point at you, filling you with glee. You’ve barely been back a few hours and already you’re stepping back into your favourite “stir-the absolute-shit-out-of-Dean” pants. As always, he is almost pitifully quick to rise to the bait. “Old? Who are you calling old? Alright so maybe we have a few years on you but that’s just because you’re a toddler and w—”
“Dean,” Sam places a placating hand on his brother’s shoulder, a look that seems to be a mixture of amusement and exasperation crossing his features. “You’re making it too easy for her.”
The older Winchester pauses, turning to pin you with an accusing look. You smile, not even attempting to appear innocent. After staring at you for several long moments, Dean makes the ‘eyes-on-you’ gesture with his fingers before turning away, rolling the tension from his shoulders as he takes a seat across from you.
“You were gone for almost a year this time, did you have any luck, well, leaving?” Sam brings your attention back to him, the question dragging out a sigh that feels like it’s been dredged from the very depths of your being.
“No,” you answer, sounding somewhat petulant even to your own ears. “Why is it so hard to leave this god-forsaken country! I hate it here. I’m sick of trying to make a run for it and being zapped back into a swamp, or—or a pool at the top of a penthouse suite in the middle of some random city! It sucks balls.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Dean waves his hand, enjoying the dirty look you give him. “So you still haven’t found whatever purpose you’re meant to fulfil while here?”
You huff, shaking your head. “No. It’s been years and I still have no idea why I woke up here that day. Or why I can’t leave.”
Over the time you’ve spent with the Winchesters, a few things became apparent to the three of you about your stay here. One, it was indefinite. You’d discovered quickly that you are, quite literally, unable to leave. Every time you get close to escaping this country you black out and wake up back inside. Sometimes in a helpful place, sometimes…. Not.
Two, the three of you had thrown around and entertained the idea that maybe you’d been brought here for a reason, that like them maybe you’d been divinely allocated a role to play. But you’ve been through a lot with the Winchesters, whether in person or by association, and still…
You’re no closer to being able to leave and return from whence you came.
You have no idea why you’re here!
This is something that has really contributed to your temporary career as a hunter here. That isn’t to say that this profession isn’t something you were involved in before you came here, but you’ve really… you really dove into it, whether as a distraction or as an ongoing investigation as to what on earth was going to set you free of your tie to this place. A part of you thinks that each case you take on, each person or family you save and creature you slay might be the one reason that brought you here, and the one task that with its completion will grant you freedom. You’ve never been a fan of being caged; just because this one spans a grand total of 9.834 million square kilometres doesn’t make it any less of one.
This most recent expedition that led you to part from the Winchesters for such a long time was another of your failed attempts to leave. You think you’ve tried escaping at every possible point along the coastline and border by now, with a definite lack of success.
“Well, if it really is some divine intervention keeping you here, then it’s better if you just sit back and settle down, twinkletoes.” Dean huffs a laugh, leaning back in his chair with an accompanying creak from the wood. “Those divine types have proven to be… kind of assholes.”
You frown, but he isn’t saying anything you haven’t already thought. It’s part of why you’d settled so easily into hunting here, actually. ‘When in Rome…’, as they say. You’re familiar with the hunting grind and there is comfort in familiarity.
“Are you going to stay a while?” Sam asks, opening the first-aid box he’d first brought over when you’d settled down. Ah, right—you’d almost forgotten about the injury on your arm, despite the fact that you are still pressing a palm to it. You listen as he speaks, almost swearing you can detect a hint of hopefulness in his voice. “You still have a room here for you, of course. We haven’t touched anything inside.”
“Yeah, mostly because we didn’t wanna deal with the mess and the booby-trapped doors—” Dean’s under-the-breath mutter is cut off by your coo, a wide smile pulling your lips.
“Oh, you two missed me, didn’t you?” Instantly, you are successful in ruffling Dean’s feathers— Sam might take a bit more work, though. “I know I really light this dark, dingy place up but I didn’t know it was that bad without me! Ah, perhaps I will stay a while. You know, out of charity.”
“Sammy,” Dean says, beseeching. “It’s not too late—you hold her back and I’ll find her key. It’s not too cold, she’ll be alright outside.”
An appalled and affronted look slips onto your face and Sam has to clear his throat so that he doesn’t laugh and add to his brother’s torment.
“I’m not a misbehaving puppy,” you say, holding your arm out for Sam as he comes over and finally freeing your bloody hand. “Wait, unless you want me to be. Been broadening your horizons beyond animated tentacle porn have you, Deanie-bo-beenie?”
On cue, Dean’s face flushes light red, whether from anger or a brief spritz of embarrassment, only God knows. You can see Sam’s face grow tense from the effort of holding back noise in your peripheral as he tends to your arm.
“You know what? I’m better than this. I’m gonna let it go.” Dean rises from his chair, making a show of dusting off your metaphorical drama. His light eyes flick to you, squinting. “I’m tired; I have a date with my memory foam pillow and nice, warm, feather duvet and a good night’s rest, so goodnight. I hope your bed has bed bugs, twinkletoes, and I hope they bite.”
“I hope you sleep well too, Dean!” you call after him, deciding you’ll have to give him a break from the bullying tomorrow  or else he’ll explode before you can have much fun. “Do you want me to come tuck you in?”
“No! Goodnight!”
His yell and disappearance down the hall is followed a few moments later by the familiar sound of a door slamming shut,
“That’s not very fair of you,” Sam announces, sounding strained and very much like he’s trying not to laugh lest Dean has an ear pressed to his door. “He’s too tired to fight back right now.”
“I know,” you answer, wincing as he wipes down the laceration on your bicep and cleans the blood away with an alcohol wipe. It burns, but it’s definitely not the most painful thing you have ever experienced. “I hadn’t seen you guys in so long, though. I couldn’t help myself.”
Sam simply snorts, reaching for the needle and thread to being stitching the skin back together, and you breathe harshly through your nose as you reach for another topic to distract yourself.
“Are the two—sorry, the three of you actually dads now? To… to Lucifer’s half-angel kid? I thought angels getting frisky with humans was, uh… illegal up in heaven.”
You feel rather than see Sam roll his eyes, your own pointedly directed away from your arm where he has begun to get to work. “It’s Lucifer, y/n, I don’t think he cares about what’s illegal up in heaven.”
You purse your lips—he makes a fair point. Honestly, you feel a little silly for questioning it. “Right, and he’s… trapped in some other dimension? An alternate world where the apocalypse really happened.”
“Yep,” Sam says, hitting a particularly painful spot with his needle. You hiss, giving him a glare.
“I wasn’t even gone a year! Just hearing all this shit is stressing me out so much, dude.” You sigh, attempting to adjust your position in the wooden chair without jostling your arm too much. Thankfully, practice has made Sam quick at his job and already he is almost done piecing you back together. He finishes up with a knot, snipping the thread and then placing a large bandage carefully over the wound. He dusts his hands once done, standing from where he was leaning against the table and proceeding to loom over you like a T-Rex.
“You’re blocking my light, bro,” you inform him, narrowly avoiding a subsequent good-natured smack to your good arm. “Damn, what the hell! Didn’t you take an oath or some shit? I’m your patient!”
“I was studying law, not medicine,” Sam retorts dryly. He turns to leave and put the first aid supplies away, his back facing you but not before you see how his lips twitch. “So your annoying ass is free game.”
“Maybe so,” you acquiesce, rising from your seat with a light grunt as you jostle your arm. You consider asking Sam where Castiel is, to see if you can get a hit of the good stuff and skip the healing process, but think better of it. You always feel a bit bad asking him to heal you, though you barely ever have to since he’s like a rabid mother hen the second he sees blood on any of you. “God, I’m beat. I didn’t think I could get any more tired than I was before, but as always catching up with you two has aged me a few years and now I’m just about as tired as you two are all the time.”
Sam doesn’t rise to the ‘old man’ bait you dangle in front of him—never really does, if you’re being honest; that’s mostly Dean’s vice— but he does offer you a smile that is unexpectedly sincere and fond.
“Go to bed, toddler,” he retorts, before continuing in a softer tone, “… It’s good to see you again, y/n. I’m glad you’re here. Dean and Mom are going out on a hunt in the next few days and I think you can really help with, uh… the whole Gabriel thing.”
For a moment, you don’t say anything. You’d sort of been trying to avoid thinking about the elephant in your mind, for the very same reason that makes your eyes burn once more. It hurts, a lot, thinking and imagining what he must have gone through at the hands of Asmodeus. It feels like your heart is going to tear itself to pieces in your chest from the sheer extent of your empathy and how terrible you feel for him. The Gabriel you saw cowering before you earlier is nothing like the confident feathery asshole you used to know.
Even having only seen him once, it’s enough to make you fearful of the possibility that… he might be too far gone to ever return to that last echo of his previous self.
“I’m not sure what I’ll even be able to do to help,” you respond, approaching the doorway to the hall with your bag in tow. You pause to finish what you’re saying, meeting Sam’s puppy-like gaze from across the room. “But I’ll try. It hurts to see him like that, so… I’ll stay a while, to do whatever I can.”
Sam’s answering thankful smile and nod is all you can ask for in response as you turn and head further into the bunker, dragging your bags back to the room you’d come to call your own over the years. Your gaze strays on the way to one of the doors that has a little note taped on saying, ‘please do not open suddenly or loudly’, undoubtedly the room that they have allocated to Gabriel for the time being. Heart heavy in your chest, you continue on down the hall and tear your gaze away.
You’re not sure how much you can do for him, but you hope you can do something.
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SHINSO MEETS VANTABLACK
(Art drawn by Keiid, this art does not belong to me.)
SHINSO:  After a long day Shinso dragged himself to the library. He decided to get in some studying before turning into the dorms. Ignoring the commotion of 1-B students on the other side of the room, slightly irritated, he scanned the psychology section, pressing a curved finger against his bottom lip in thought. Crouching down he reached and pulled out a book by its spine. The spine read The Lucifer Effect. It was a classic, the whole idea of it being the difference between good and evil. Shinso was obsessed with the concept, reading it about a hundred times. He felt that if he understood what exactly people perceived as evil, then he’d be able to avoid it. Shinso wasn’t keen on changing his behavior, he already felt restricted to what emotions he could actively express as to not scare or unnerve people, as stupid as it sounded.  He stood up with his choice, briefly scaling the section once more. Maybe I could pick up a book on behaviors later. He thought curiously, Todoroki’s cold shoulder in mind, frustrated that he couldn’t read that icy stare. Shinso thumbed open the paperback book and skimmed it with his dead, amethyst eyes, gradually becoming more invested with each word, drowning out any other sound while taking in every ideal. VANTABLACK:  Vantablack had just passed the history section as he subconsciously entered the psychology section, quickly coming to a stop. It’s Him, Vantablack thought, as he noticed the lavender haired boy. The first time he took notice of him had been at the sports festival during his match with the enthusiastic green-haired kid from class 1-A. His interest in Hitoshi Shinso had immediately peaked at that point. A quirk that allows one to control one's mind... How taboo. Shinso hadn’t won, nor did he advance in the final tournament, though even still, Vantablack knew that his quirk was one to be revered. Shinso was an anomaly, and Vantablack was all about the unknown. It fueled every fiber of his being.  He made his way quietly towards Shinso, looking to see what book it was that he held in his hand. “Keh” he cackled softly, drawing Shinso’s attention. “‘The Lucifer Effect’, good choice,” Vantablack spoke with a slight nod and a grin that showed his white teeth beneath his charcoal black lips. “Though I think one that would be of great use for you would be ‘Obedience to Authority.’” Vantablack reached for it leaning in close to grab it from beside Shinso’s shoulder. He gave Shinso a smug smile as he held out the book. Vantablack was surprised that they were nearly the same height, Shinso had seemed so tall and foreboding from the stadium. “The name is Shihai Kuroiro,” he said with a sly smile. “Though please, call me Vantablack.” SHINSO:  Shinso flickered his cold stare towards the source of a low cackle that snapped him back to reality. His lazy expression fell upon a boy who resembled the abyss himself, his blinding white teeth pulled into a confident grin. Who was this? Shinso thought to himself, quirking an eyebrow at the stranger, his expression being less than pleased to be bothered. He narrowed his cold stare at the boy. Obedience to Authority? What exactly was this guy implying? Shinso thought to himself, aggravated at the suggestion. Shinso shifted away awkwardly as the boy reached for a book on the shelf beside him, still a bit taken aback by the remark. Shinso sneered at the boy as he held out the book and introduced himself with a sly grin. His name was Vantablack? One of the 1-B students who were making a commotion, what did he want? “Actually, I’ve already read that. Not my style of book, er- ‘Vantablack’.” Shinso replied curtly, rubbing the back of his neck as he scanned Vantablack, studying his body language. Shinso couldn’t help but feel put off by him, something about that smirk was unnerving. His dark features absorbed any visible expression he may have had. “Is there something I can help you with?” Shinso asked with a stern tone, waving off the book he was offered. VANTABLACK:  Vantablack wasn’t surprised by Shinso’s caution. He expected nothing less from the aspiring hero. This was the kind of person he had hoped he’d be. He tucked the book under his arm rather than putting it back. “What I found most fascinating about the book was how much power words hold over one's mind. You don’t even need a quirk to convince the masses to do unspeakable evil.” Vantablack smirked at the thought. He was staring directly into Shinso’s amethyst colored eyes, who’s attention appeared to finally be won. “And yet, people choose to be afraid of you because they are afraid that they would be convinced to do evil deeds.” He ran his tongue along the edges of his teeth before he continued. “What they fail to realize is that what they should be afraid of, is being evil by their own volition. All it takes is one powerful voice, and people are quick to abandon their morals. Manipulation is a powerful tool, but only to those who are weak minded. And people would rather not admit to their weaknesses.” Vantablack was pleased to see that Shinso was holding his breath. He continued on, "So now that we've established that a quirk is unnecessary to manipulate the minds of the weak, that leaves your quirk good for another thing..." Shinso's eyebrow lifted ever so slightly, "Manipulating the minds of the manipulators." SHINSO:  Shinso blinked a few times, resting his expression from annoyed to confused. This guy was… something else. Who says this to a stranger? Besides even being a stranger, Vantablack’s demeanor changed drastically. Shinso thought he was just some random person trying to make friends, but he certainly seemed to have some kind of agenda. Whether it was a good or bad one, Shinso had yet to tell. Vantablack’s piercing, pale eyes gripped Shinso’s attention, wild with passion as he spoke. That mischievous smirk remained prominent against his void features. He was ready to completely ignore Vantablack, but he seemed to pique his interest. Shinso slightly lifted his eyebrows and straightened his confused expression to that of intrigue. Using his quirk to manipulate the manipulators? Shinso hummed in amusement as he topped off his speech. Someone has been watching too many action movies. Shinso thought to himself, loosening his lazy features amusingly, but something about his words stuck with him.  “Quite the philosopher. Tell me, what exactly did you expect to achieve by sharing this with me?” Shinso asked rather bluntly, his curiosity piqued, flashing a challenging stare at Vantablack’s eager expression, almost daring him to continue. What exactly were his intentions? VANTABLACK:  Vantablack gave a soft cackle that led into a sigh. For one who hated being mistrusted, he sure was hesitant to give an inch. “Just some food for thought,” he whispered in his raspy voice. He gorged himself with every feature of Shinso, he wanted to take it all in. From his dark circles around his eyes, to the way he carried himself. Vantablack made sure to memorize each and every detail. These details would become useful one day. How exactly, was yet to be determined. Vantblack relaxed his position, stretching as he did and let out a drawn out yawn. “Well you look busy, so I won’t disturb you any longer. Once you’ve had time to ponder over these words, I’m sure you’ll find me again.” Vantablack began to turn away when his eyes noticed one particular book on the shelf. A classic, he thought as he placed a black finger on the top of the spine and pulled it from its home. With it in hand, he turned back to Shinso and placed the book on top of his copy of ‘The Lucifer Effect’ without giving him much choice in the matter.  “I also recommend this book, it’s an… Intriguing read. I think you’ll like it.” He gave a small wave over his shoulder as he sauntered away. Glancing to check Shinso’s expression as he read the title of the book he had handed him, ‘Live, Love, Laugh.’ SHINSO:  Shinso’s cold, challenging expression remained unfazed by Vantablack’s cackle. Just some food for thought huh? Shinso’s mind began whirling as he digested the words, still unsure of the intention behind them. He scaled the void features of the boy beside him, his relaxed posture and now seemingly relaxed expression from what he could make out remained open and friendly, the way he spoke however, was a different story.  This guy certainly enjoyed being coy. Shinso thought to himself, lowering his features back into a dead stare as he watched the white haired boy pluck a book from the shelf. Before he had the chance to wave Vantablack off he placed a book in Shinso’s hands, disregarding any protest he may have. Shinso looked down at the book, dumbfounded at his persistence. Live, Love, Laugh? He blinked, puzzled by the interaction, looking up once more to see the boy turn back to flash him a sly grin as he waved. “Thanks, I guess?” Shinso muttered under his breath, flipping the book over to skim the back, his eyes wide with curiosity and bewilderment from this brief exchange. Vantablack, whoever he was, definitely knew how to make an impression. “Might as well.” he decided, huffing in defeat as he took both books to an empty table, curiously opening the one he was given, hoping to find some answers to Vantablack’s vague words. [END SCENE]
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aspenflower17 · 3 years
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Finding You (Part 12 of ??)
Hi hi! I’m hoping this update finds you all well and happy. I have a lot more time this coming week to write, so I hope I can get on top of my WIPs and get the next chapter out not late on a Sunday.
Anyways, for his chapter itself, I wanted to try something a bit different. When Mc was composing her song, I had a very particular one in mind, and so when the song comes up, I’m going to put a YouTube link there that you can click on and listen to the song while you’re reading. For people that have problems reading while listening to music, it is all instrumental and you definitely do not have to click the link. I’m just trying to get more across in my fics than I would otherwise :) I will also have a link at the end of the update that will link you to the original scenes where the two parts of the song are from.
I should also note, there might be spoilers in this for people who haven’t read very far in the main story in game.
For anyone who hasn’t read the rest of the updates, here is the link to Part One if you would be so inclined to read :)
Tags!:  @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling @oofthelazyweeb (as always, if you would like to be added to the tags list, just comment down below or send me a message about it!)
Satan / F!Mc
Words: 2,404
Trigger warnings: None that I can think of, though if you had a bad experience with the movie the song is from, that could be a problem...
“Sorry to intrude. I just heard your playing and had to find out who was making such gorgeous music,” Satan was leaning against the doorway, a soft smile on his face, “Is that one of your compositions?”
“Oh,” Mc looked down, a little embarrassed, “Yes, but it isn’t finished yet.”
“It’s still beautiful,” Satan said softly, hoping she would allow him to stay.
“Thank you,” Mc answered softly, matching his smile.
Satan cleared this throat and looked down, blushing, “So, how long have you been working on this piece?”
“Honestly, a while now,” Mc sighed slightly, “It’s something I composed in the Celestial Realm, though it never sounded right. It’s only on the piano’s here in the Devildom that it’s sounded… right,” Mc looked up at Satan at that, and he nodded, his hand resting on his chin thoughtfully, “Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to get further in the piece.”
Satan cleared his throat, “Well, if you play it again, I may be able to help. I have done some composing before, though not as much as you… Anyways, only if you want to. I would hate to impose…” he was blushing furiously now, wondering why he’d even offered.
“That would actually be lovely,” Mc admitted, her heart fluttering a bit at the prospect, “A fresh perspective might be just what I need.”
“I’d be happy to assist then,” Satan said, walking over to stand behind her.
Mc looked up and smiled at him, “Thank you.”
Satan’s heart stopped for a moment, fragments of memories flying through his mind of Mc looking up and smiling at him. He swallowed thickly, and gestured for her to play, not trusting his voice.
Mc was a bit confused, watching the sadness well up in his eyes. Despite the sudden emotion, she turned and started playing when he gestured. (This song)
Satan was transfixed by the music from the first note, wondering if this was the loneliness Mc had mentioned to him so long ago, put into the notes ringing through the air. If that was the case, he had to wonder why the Celestial Realm had kept her from him. He would have cured her loneliness, no matter what it took. If she had needed companionship, he would have provided it. If she needed kind words, he would have provided it. Absolutely anything she would have needed would have been provided. She would never have had to know such pain.
In that moment, he wondered what would have happened if Mc had come to the Devildom instead of the Celestial Realm. He knew she would have been grabbed from the upcoming souls, if not by him, then one of his brothers, Diavolo or Barbatos, her ties to the realm more to do with love and friendship, not sin and corruption. Assuming she had still wanted him, he would have followed her in wherever she would have wanted to go and helped her accomplish anything she would have wanted to do. If she had wanted to move out of the House of Lamentation, he would have made it happen, and if she never wanted to leave, he would gladly put up with whatever antics his brothers felt they needed to inflict upon him. He would even have put up with their constant flirting if it made her happy. If she had wanted to become a demon, he would have helped her, making sure any adjustment she would have gone through were as quick and painless as possible. 
He imagined they would have been happy together, seeing as how his wrath was more contained and muted with her around. She had shown him what love was, helping him realize not only that he loved her but that he did love his brothers and they him, though they all showed it in very weird ways. She had helped him cut through all his self doubt, making him feel less like a monster on a self inflicted leash, a shadow of the power and man that had created him, and more like an individual with his own thoughts and feelings, valid and special in his own right. No one had ever been able to do that for him, and he doubted anyone ever would again.
When the music changed, calm and desolate, he knew this was her loneliness without a doubt. Some part of his brain also recognized she was nearing where she hadn’t composed yet. Without thinking, he sat on her right, watching her practiced hands play. He felt the inspiration for the rest of the song start to well up inside him. He also felt his anger at the situation they now found themselves in burning behind it all as well. They had been happy together before her mortality had ripped them apart. The angels knew this, and yet they had kept her from him, even though she had obviously been suffering. She hid and dealt with it well, her art a testament to that, but she had suffered needlessly. He wanted to let Mc know she was not alone and he would help her. Even if she never fell in love with him again, this was her plea for help and he would not allow it to go unanswered.
The first couple lines he played were just repeats of hers, an attempt at solidarity.
Mc was surprised by his actions, though they spurred her on, the song actually continuing past the point she had composed. She had never actively composed with someone else, and she found the action calming in a way. It was if he could read her mind on what needed to happen in the song.
Satan suddenly started playing furiously, a bit of a call back to earlier in the song, though with more gusto. Mc couldn’t help but watch as he glared a bit at the keys as if they would provide the answers to the rest of the song. She felt inspired, playing the bottom hand as he played the top. She felt more connected to him than she ever had with anyone, the composition coming together better than she would have thought possible. Their hands even touched a couple times, as they fought for use of the keys they knew would help express the magic that was happening.
Mc started a chromatic scale, lost in the moment, adding flair as she went up. She didn’t realize what she was doing until she was at the top of the keyboard, trilling between two notes. She was leaning a bit into Satan, their legs and shoulders touching as she had scooted over on the bench to reach the notes. He was watching her, their faces extremely close. He was smiling softly again.
She pulled back into her own space, a blush dusting her cheeks though she felt happy, “Pardon my enthusiasm.”
Her blush and smile made him feel like he had accomplished something, “I like your enthusiasm,” he said, his voice only coming out in a whisper.
She smiled at him, “Well, I’m glad,” then, “Oh, I almost forgot. This is for you,” she pulled a letter from the air, Satan’s eyebrows raising in interest, “It’s a reply to the one you gave me.”
He took the letter and tucked it into his jacket pocket, “Thank you. That was an interesting trick you just did.”
“Oh, I’ve known it for ages now. I left a particularly embarrassing poem out once, and another angel read it out loud in front of a lot of other angels. It’s safe to say I keep all important things hidden now.”
“Glad to know you think this is important,” Satan half teased, making Mc flush slightly.
“I didn’t realize you were such an accomplished piano player,” Mc said, trying to move the conversation in a direction that wouldn’t make her heart race.
“Oh, well, music has been fundamental in helping to develop and understand new emotions,” Satan admitted, knowing Mc was the only person he’d ever openly admit this to.
“New… emotions?” Mc, remembering the conversation between Michael and Diavolo, she tried to keep the intense curiosity from her voice in an effort not to upset Satan or scare him away from the topic.
“Yes. I… How much do you know about my birth?”
“I… I’ve learned more about it since coming here, but I still don’t know a lot,” Mc admitted, trying to keep her voice as nice but neutral as possible.
“Well, I was born from Lucifer’s wrath. In the beginning, all I could feel was anger, though it wasn’t really directed at anyone. I knew why Lucifer was angry but most of that didn’t seem to matter much. Those acts had not been directed at me; why should I care? I was just angry, because that’s all I was. The first time I think I remember feeling anything besides rage was at Lilith’s memorial.
Huh? Who’s Lilith?
“I remember Lucifer sitting at the piano, pouring his grief into the song he was playing. Though I remember music from Lucifer’s memories, it was my first time experiencing it as an individual. The song had been Lilith’s favorite, though the piano’s of the Devildom and the slow tempo Lucifer played it had made what was usually a very happy song into a funeral march. In that moment, watching all my brothers with tears in their eyes, many openly weeping when the song started, I felt a twinge in my heart, and I teared up. I remember wiping them, staring at the liquid on my finger,” he looked down at his hands at that, completely caught up in the memory.
“I thought about that moment a lot. I rolled it around over and over in my head trying to figure out what it was I had experienced. It was at this time that I asked Lucifer to teach me how to play the piano. I thought the key was in the music itself, and I practiced a lot. Lucifer is not a forgiving teacher, so I was constantly striving for perfection, but from my own expectations of myself and his. Still, even as I became a better piano player, I still couldn’t get the emotion I wanted from the instrument, though I didn’t know that’s what I was looking for. It was the most wooden playing you could imagine.
“One day, I was very angry at my inability to play the way I wanted to. I was throwing things around in my room because Lucifer made it very clear I was never to destroy the piano just because I was upset, when Beel decided to look in on me. Most of my brothers, Asmo aside, give me a very wide berth when I’m upset, though I think they do it now more out of respect for my privacy than fear. Anyways, Beel came in and asked me what was wrong. I ended up screaming about how frustrated I was at not being able to play like Lucifer did at Lilith’s memorial. He was a bit confused as to why, and I explained to him that I needed to explore the strange sensation that had made me cry. After a bit more explanation, he smiled sadly and explained that what I had felt was probably either sadness or grief. He then went on to explain the emotion in the most blunt, truthful way I’ve ever heard out of anyone, and I’ve read a lot. It wasn’t flowery or dramatic. It was someone honestly and truthfully expressing how they felt. It was a lot like when someone puts so much emotion into their music and you can’t help but understand them. His words did the same thing for me that Lucifer’s playing had done, and that twinge came back. Experiencing it in the moment allowed me to be able to ask his confirmation on what I was feeling.
“Looking back on the whole encounter, I’m ashamed of how I acted, but I’m glad Beel came in and helped me when he did. It helped me understand myself a bit more, and recognize I can feel things that aren’t anger. Without his help, who knows how long I would’ve been floundering around in the dark. Ah, but you didn’t ask for my personal history. You were just asking about my piano playing,” Satan rubbed the back of his head, looking sheepish, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
“Oh, no, it’s quite alright!” Mc answered, louder and more forcefully than she intended. He looked at her in shock, and it was her turn to act sheepishly, “I just… I’m glad you told me. I feel like I understand you a lot better now.”
“I’m glad,” Satan said, smiling.
“You’re at the piano huh? We were wondering where you’d gone off to,” a voice interrupted, making them both look over, “Lucifer wants you to come back because dinner’s almost done. I’m guessing you should probably head back with us,” the strawberry blonde smiled at Mc.
“Oh, you’re Asmodeus right?” Mc asked, proud of herself for recognizing him.
“Oh, you know who I am darling? Oh, who am I kidding? How could you have not heard about me by now?”
“Right…” Mc laughed a bit uncomfortably, “I also remember you from when you dropped off Satan’s letter to me as a child.”
Asmo’s eyes widened a bit, “Oh, I thought it might be you. I wasn’t sure though.”
“You weren’t sure? You had an idea though,” Satan’s voice was flat as was his expression.
“Oh, Satan, calm down. I didn’t want to say anything in case I was wrong. You can understand why, right?”
Satan sighed, “I suppose so. I guess it doesn’t really affect anything in the long run.”
“Glad you understand. Now, we really should get back. Are you coming with?” Asmo directed the last part at Mc.
“Sure. I should be joining Luke and Michael anyway,” Mc said, sliding off the left side of the bench, walking towards Asmo. Satan pushed the bench back when she was clear of it, and walked over to Asmo too.
Asmo grinned mischievously, “You know, you two make a cute couple!”
Mc flushed at the comment and looked down.
“Oh no need to be so bashful Satan. I’m only stating the obvious. If you have a problem with it though, I’d be more than happy to steal her away.”
Steal me away? What’s all that about?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hi! So, the song I linked above is actually two different songs combined into one. It is from Corpse Bride a claymation film from Tim Burton. From that, you should be able to decide if it’s something you’d like to watch. I do think it was pretty well done and would recommend it.
The beginning is called Victor’s Piano Solo (Scene here) and the second part is The Piano Duet (scene here)
Part Thirteen
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incarnateirony · 4 years
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If we're looking to puzzles in past seasons, how about Zach's installation of false memories / fake selves in S+D in It's a Terrible Life? How much of it is Zach (or the show) just fucking around for fun? And how can anyone after watching it think Dean is heterosexual, or that the show thinks he is? I'd love to see analysis of all the parallel universes, false futures etc together that looks at what those eps are doing, from What Is and Should Never Be to French Mistake to The Trap
I imagine this is a followup to the time travel ask (x) which I will link here too, because it’s still important, even if this example itself is not time travel. I actually went into the OP and edited in a segment saying honestly, Time Travel takes more Universal Power than Created Spaces, from what I’ve witnessed in Supernatural.
I’m actually going to avoid the “Dean het/bi” argument here for once because, while I do espouse that Dean is now canonically bi via a series of low visibility text, the most textual nail being driven in during Last Call, I generally give that old era I just don’t see the same kind of genuine queer coding. The few episodes they crop up in tend to be Edlund’s and they were an entire universe away from modern Bobo+ episodes in delivery, and I’m just... going to go “nahhh, if you use that as part of what you see by all means, but I’m not about to dive into that with any kind of intent here.”
I did also during my edit point out some stuff in the Trap:  That is to say though, that according to this model, there IS still a future out there written somewhere that Dean had to bury Cas in a Malak Box, got overwhelmed by depression, literally gave up, turned into a monster and killed everyone he loved with Sam until he too died. But Not This Sam, Not This Dean.
But to go into the one of false memories and fake selves, we actually go closer to my Thought Boxes experiment. (x) 
Unlike The End and Edlund, we lack any kind of creative commentary or even text in the script itself to vaguely IMPLY this was an actual alternate timeline. But all timelines happen within Thought Boxes (see link) that have time installed (as opposed to many heavens being delineated/not having the Swiss Watch installed like Chuck’s worlds, but Chuck isn’t the only one that can perceive of an order.)
This is where things get a little warpy for people: stop thinking of angels as their vessels for a minute. Does Cas properly own his now, is it his own body, yes. But beyond Cas, or even before Cas had his living period(s) (which is actually a great deal of why he’s so thoroughly invested in the human perspective compared to his peers), I need people to realize that “wavelengths of intent” thing is important as fuck.
The faces we see are vessels to interact in a timeline with. They are functionaries, even if some proverbially hit a button like Anael. They are designed to pull out tasks within a universal structure, and also have lesser powers (by scale of their general grade/type) reflective of the divine that created that one. But just like Michael couldn’t actually snap his fingers and nuke them all in Dean’s Thought Box, I gesture at for example Dark Side Of The Moon where while Zachariah mocked them, he actually couldn’t pull out ubermoves on them, and couldn’t find them when they disappeared into Ash’s Thought Box. Because in here, we’re all just mental projections. And in here, we’re all the same. So you can’t. Don’t play God’s game, make him play yours. 
We also find out that God had wiped Sam and Dean’s death memories in heaven before, not too unlike Castiel did Lisa and the kid later. Memory manipulation is nothing new.
This seems like a bizarre aside to approach little things like It’s A Terrible Life in, but it’s actually key to nail in. Also, I don’t know how many of you have watched Agents of Shield, but this may help people: When uploaded to the Framework from Aiva’s system rather than an independent one, people completely had their memories messed up. This all actually applies a similar idea. And yet really, think of this as uploading to different worlds. When the Immortal Human Soul, which is timeless, is Uploaded to Earth, they also don’t know anything about their Immortal Past. Now, put a Thought Box inside a Thought Box. Be that Dean thinking he really did own a bar, or Sam thinking he’s a phone center operator, the uploaded individual to the Thought Box does not necessarily retain all they should know, even if things eat at them as right or wrong in the scale of it all until they unlock their true nature.
It’s A Terrible Life is not too different: from MichaelDean’s headbar, from Castiel’s zoned out reality with Lucifer, or whatever else. It is an alternate created space the souls have been packed into, resetting what they know despite what they Know. It too is a venture--if less immediately visibly philosophical--about the (re)discovery of the self. 
Now, in It’s A Terrible Life, respectively Zachariah was God (despite actually working on behalf of god Outside of the Terrible Life Thought Box). He designed the entire system and story and rules and regulations for them to play in, a thought box, and one he could directly intervene in, unlike in The End. Power flowed back to Zachariah in this box.
ADLER stands up and presses two fingers to DEAN's forehead. Everything goes from saturated color to dim. DEAN looks around at the office and himself.
DEAN What the hell? Why am I wearing a tie? My God, am I hungry.
And he directly influenced how their bodies reacted, such as the fact that Dean somehow felt fine eating rabbit food rofl.
DEAN Gross. No thank you. So, what? I'm just hallucinating all this? Is that it?
ZACHARIAH Not at all. Real place, real haunting. Just plunked you in the middle without the benefit of your memories.
One might argue this infers that it is a real place *on this earth*, on which neither side actually has receipts as much as “conclusion majority jumps to.” -- In the very least, Zachariah directly impacted the body-cage and its memories and function. But also for Sam and Dean to have been enrolled there, he would have had to do it to an infinite chain of people in their path that wouldn’t notice the new chief of marketing and everybody on the floor knowing Sam and all the weird influences in those people’s lives too. Which again is why I point up to how CENTRAL this Thought Box idea actually is to Supernatural, and how very much Zachariah’s “real place” is just as likely, with all other functions we’ve seen, just like any other Real Place that the characters call Not Real. It isn’t real to Them. Because it’s not their lives and their stories. It doesn’t have their people.  
It’s somewhere in an infinite ocean of thought boxes, possibly one created by Zachariah himself since he is literally positioned as a CEO there. Which is... honestly, if you get past the mental hiccup of thinking outside the (thought) box, a far easier resolution to this entire scenario than Zachariah butterfly effecting half the planet just to troll Sam and Dean. And even if he DID do that, there Is the reminder of wavelengths of celestial intent, and how easily Chuck reset the planet’s state of knowing, but Zachariah as a general angel (kerubim by his description of himself) and not God Himself would have limits in that authority, so making a divergent box makes far more sense.
This was when use of Matrix and Baudrillard and whatever else was fairly young in the show, though, so while I can’t swear that was 100% the intent when it was *made* (and again, unlike The End, we have no creative commentary on this that I’ve found), as Dark Side of the Moon came a season later and evoked it, Carver deployed it a few times, and now Dabb Era quite centrally hovers around it, in the very least modern canon and all its evolutions would easily lead to this result.
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ariaadagio · 5 years
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Things I loved about S4
1.  Lucifer was completely de-flanderized.  He was allowed to be smart, ask relevant questions during investigations, and was never once handed an idiot ball.  This was my number one wish for this season, and the writers granted it with bells on.  
2.  Tonally speaking, the show was perfect!  It kept its great sense of humor and horrible puns where appropriate, but scaled way way waaaaaaaaaay back on the camp for camp’s sake (looking at you, S3), and also allowed itself to go full dark when necessary.  Also, the writers were absolutely correct in how they chose to utilize their newfound ability to curse — sparingly and for great effect.  
3.  Pacing was perfect.  No one major event was allowed to go on too long.  I was really worried in the beginning that Chloe was going to spend the whole season working with Father Kinley, but she didn’t.  Can you imagine if S4 had been on Fox?  Chloe telling Kinley to fuck off would have been the mid-season finale or something, we all already would have been ready to rage quit, and then Eve would come along for the back half to take us into S5.  Just yikes.     
4.  Speaking of Eve.  Eve was likable and 3D.  She was not just there to be a wrench in the works, nor was she stereotypically catty or jealous with Chloe or any of Lucifer’s other friends.  She was selfish, but she was also kind — a lot like Lucifer, really — and her backstory was both tragic and interesting.  
5.  The Eve / Lucifer / Chloe triangle didn’t feel forced.  In fact, I’d go so far as to not even call it a triangle so much as a brief “reshuffle.”  It was relevant and developed organically — all three characters had some major realizations they needed to make, and the reshuffle very importantly helped them do that.    
6.  Chloe took her time with her reaction to Lucifer’s revelation, and even better, her reaction was both relatable and in character.  I mean, really, as much as I’m sure we all wanted her to immediately be YAAAAAY DEVIL! don’t forget she was a self-professed agnostic and, literally, her entire worldview just got flipped upside down.  Of course, she would need time for her head to stop spinning, and while still spinning, she would be extra-vulnerable to gaslight-y characters like Kinley.  But she’s also very oriented in empathy and personal experience, and all it really took, after she calmed down a bit, was some more time with Lucifer for things to start coming back together for her.  Her journey was complex but, in my mind, to be expected, and, most importantly, interesting.  (P.S. How lovely was that moment when Amenadiel told her about her dad, and his meaning sank in for her?)
7.  The “the beginnings of a beautiful friendship” vibes Chloe & Lucifer were giving off by the end of the season were fabulous.  This was my second major wish for S4 — that Chloe & Lucifer remember why they’re friends and then develop that friendship organically now that there are no secrets between them — and the writers, once again, were there with bells on.  
8.  The found-family plot of Linda, Maze, and Amenadiel was fantastic.  I normally don’t go in for baby and pregnancy plots but this one was done in a really lovely way.
9.  Maze/Eve.  I ship it.  What are we calling this one?  Mave?  Eaze?  Whatever we decide: please, sir, can I have some more?
10.  All the pairing cross-pollination was lovely.  I loved seeing Amenadiel & Dan again.  I loved Dan & Ella.  I loved Maze & Dan.  Dan’s journey in particular was suuuper hard to watch, but his final scene with Linda was perfect.  Also, for a while there I really thought Ella’s crisis of faith was going to be resolved with a reveal — is she our next one if the show gets an S5?  
11.  I loved that Lucifer really started using his words toward the end.  He was able to admit aloud that he didn’t like who he was with Eve.  And, while I think this will be an unpopular opinion with Deckerstar shippers, I also really liked that he was also able to admit he wasn’t sure he liked who he was with Chloe, either.  I mean, this was certainly through no fault of Chloe — who again I felt reacted realistically — but rather from the tough situation Lucifer found himself in this season, where he was being inadvertently pulled between his two extremes (angel / devil).  I could understand where he was coming from with that — he just wants to be Lucifer, not ANGEL!Lucifer or DEVIL!Lucifer.  Part of the whole point of this season was Lucifer figuring out what “being Lucifer” means for him.  Who is he?  Along those lines, I also loved that we started getting more context for his Fall and who he was many years ago.  My head canons are definitely revising themselves as I type this.  
12.  All the oodles of supernatural goodness!  This was number three on my S4 wishlist.  Let Lucifer be the freaking Devil.  He is not human.  He has skills and perspectives that are different from ours.  And holy crap did the writers deliver here.  Except they upped the ante and gave me DEVIL!Lucifer, ANGEL!Amenadiel, DEMON!Maze, NEPHILIM!Baby, POSSESSED!Army, and a partridge in a pear tree.  
13.  How sweet was that ending exchange of ILYs between Chloe & Lucifer?  It felt really earned and really true, now that Chloe knows exactly who she’s saying she loves, and Lucifer has gone on his much-needed “who am I?” journey.
14.  HOW SWEET WAS THAT ENDING WITH LUCIFER ON THE THRONE OF HELL?  OH MY GOD WHAT A POWERFUL MOMENT.  At the very end of the final episode when we saw this, I turned to @tarysande and said, “Holy shit I LOVE that, but I HATE it.”  I’m still not really sure how to articulate my bucket o’ feelings about this.  It was hopelessly sad on a Deckerstar front, but for Lucifer personally ... wow.  Just wow.  And I really, really want to see where things could go from here.  
Overall, when @tarysande and I started watching this, I had some reservations.  I kept saying, “Oh, man, I don’t know how I’m gonna feel about this if they do X.”  But the writers kept walking right up to the line of whatever X was in that moment, they kept toeing it exactly before my "NOPE!” point, yet never once did they cross it, and in the end, they produced a brilliant season.  Probably my favorite yet.  
I am so very glad this show got renewed, and the writers had a chance to tell this story.
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jkateel-archive · 5 years
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Jack and the Snake: A look at the symbolism of serpents and what it means for SPN
I just watched all of Season 14 yesterday in one go, and it was good. Better than good. The season felt so incredibly off the first few episodes, not gonna lie, but by 14x06 , it was like it finally found its footing. And from there on, it was damn good television. Damn good. 
Supernatural, of course, has always been full of symbolism, too, and this season didn't disappoint. One shot got me though, like really got me, in how blatantly obvious it was. I'm specifically talking about this one from episode 15.
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So I see this shot, and obvious symbolism is obvious, right? Lucifer’s son is entranced by a serpent, the symbol for the original sin; the thing that convinced Adam and Eve to eat the apple and got them all banished from paradise. It’s evil, the one of those ultimate symbols of evil especially in Christian mythology, and this episode, this specific shot, marks Jack’s inevitable fall to the dark side.
Some simple symbolism, right? Yeah, no. It’s just the tip of the iceberg.
So curious me looks up what the serpent actually symbolizes and turns out there’s FIVE PAGES about it in my book An Illustrated Encyclopedia of Traditional Symbols. And it's all fascinating stuff; things I think we need to take into consideration in regards to the Jack's character. That there's a whole episode, followed by several other mentions of it, devoted to Jack and Felix, I think means we can look into the larger symbolism of snakes and how they relate to our all-powerful nephilim. 
So what else does a serpent symbolize? “Primordial instinctual nature, the upsurging life-force, uncontrolled and undifferentiated; potential energy; animating spirit," according to An Illustrated Encyclopedia of Traditional Symbols. More than that, it's a huge duality symbol. Male and female, good and evil, life and death, destruction and resurrection — those kind of dualities. And if you study this show, Supernatural has always been big on duality symbols; you only have to look to Chuck, who says existence is all about balance. “Dark and light, good and evil, chocolate and peanut butter," he says in Moriah (14x20).
Basically,  to boil down five pages worth of notes, the serpent is all powerful, the god before all gods, the “primordial ocean from which all emerges and to which all returns.” It can also “support and maintain the world” and it is the “ouroboros, the encircling powers of the water round the earth.” It is both a "symbol of eternity and harbinger of destruction." Also, going back all the to Jack's first signs of sentience in 12x19, "a child playing with a snake depicts Paradise Regained, freedom from conflict and the end of the temporal world."
However, the fact the snake is also associated with the ouroboros (and comes from an episode with the same name), I belive makes Jack the ultimate ouroboros. The true balance. God's first creation and second creation joined as one. The most powerful thing in the universe, and the one destined to bring paradise to the world. (Going back to Castiel's vision in 12x19 again.) Jack, being this primordial creature, might be what kills God and finally brings balance to the multiverse.
Why do I think that? Mainly, it's the end of season 14, with the Empty and Billie approaching Jack and wanting to talk to them. Here are two beings who really do not like that the cosmos are out of balance, largely thanks to God interference (and Jack waking up the Empty when he woke up Castiel back in 13x03). While Cas saw paradise, I think true paradise is finally finding the balance the multiverse needs, and that means God needs to stop interfering with Sam and Dean's lives. 
In fact, God needs to stop interfering full stop. He needs to stop creating broken worlds; broken worlds that create all-powerful beings like Michael, Lucifer or Jack, who can cause wanton destruction on such a massive scale and throw the universe out of balance.Killing God isn't going to be easy though, and I believe only Jack is truly capable of it, given what he is and what he can do. And that's where the series seems to be headed: looks like the boys have finally pissed off God enough that he's going to let the Supernatural world fall apart too. However if Jack can stop him, finally kill God and stop these destructive cycles, he can become the ouroboros that encircles the world (if not the multiverse) and finally brings balance to it all. And if that happens, Team Free Will can finally be free to live their lives; finally understand who they are without God's constant meddling. 
And if that's the ending Supernatural wants to go for, the "paradise" Jack brings? I am all for it.
I can't wait for season 15.
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mammoney-love · 4 years
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The demon bros and their markings. (HC)
In my HC, all the brothers (except for Satan) actually took some time to adjust to most of their markings! Some took more time and effort than others.
Despite having to control the most power, Lucifer was very quick to get used to his new demon powers. They manifested in one of the simplest of designs, a diamond right in the middle of his forehead. Getting accustomed to it was almost immediate, since he barely had to remind itself that it was there, though his sin would usually have him showing off the plain yet elegant marking, showcasing his power as a demon. Although, the first few days were accompanied with the worst of fevers, so hot and unusual Diavolo started thinking that Lucifer may even die, and when that was over he was still in pain for a long time, getting headaches for months until they eventually ended up fading away completely. He was just too stubborn and proud to admit he was suffering.
Mammon's white markings were the one that took most time to settle down on the fallen angel's body, so much he had to be (voluntarily) locked away -and a bit chained- for a few years while he finally adjusted to his new powers. It wasn't really painful, but for the longest of time his body would act on impulse, being still and calm one second and setting everything in a radius of 10 m on fire the next. Lucifer was the only one really allowed to go visit him, and when he did Mammon would usually speak a lot of gibberish and wouldn't stop trembling. Coordination and his impulses is still something that affects Mammon on a daily basis, although it's been getting better. It genuinely broke Lucifer's heart to see Mammon act that way, but it made sense that he had to go through that given the complexity of his markings when compared to any of the others'. (By that, I mostly mean that it doesn't seem to be due to his demon characteristics, but was willfully put on him. It feels like it has a deeper and more complex reason to be here than simply "Yeah when I got yeeted into hell they just kinda appeared on me.")
Leviathan had little problem adjusting to his scale-like markings, except for the occasional itchiness on his neck. Even so, that only took a month for them to feel comfortable on his skin. What was the worst for him is that he used to be rather embarassed of them, especially the ones that peaks out of his collar, no matter how high it was and how much he covered himself. During the war, whenever Diavolo scheduled meetings and that Levi attended as a naval strategist, it was quite fun for the prince to see the new demon be so flustered and shy over something that was so common among demons.
Asmodeus' heart markings weren't particularly painful, but incredibly sensitive. And the worst is that the sensitivity spread throughout his whole body. Even the lightest and smoothest of fabrics found accross the three worlds would have Asmodeus wriggle his way out of it, complaining about how it felt like a thousand needles were stabbed into every inch of his body. Physical contact with others, as small as it could be would send his mind and heart racing, the demon being completely flushed in an instant. It was so bad he locked himself up in his room for almost a year, only letting Lucifer bring him his meals everyday. Fortunately, the crazy discomfort he felt faded away when he started to give into his lust, and while his sensitivity is still present, it's much less intense than before.
Beel's markings used to actually move along his skin as if they were claws ready to grab at every of his features. They moved around when he was feeling nervous or scared, and covered more skin whenever he was upset. They would also tug at his throat, like something was stuck there and he had to eat or drink to make it go down. But it would never go down so he kept eating more and more. It lasted for 2 and half years of Beel doing nothing but eating (not literally but he would eat much more than he does now) before he thought of starting to work out the way he used to back in the celestial realm. This proved to be a great idea as it helped keeping his mind more at ease, and the markings even backed off his chest a little.
Belphegor's markings never bothered him to be completely honest, and it took a few days to get accustomed to them. What really felt weird is how the patches of skin being covered with the marks literally feels numb to the touch. Like he really cannot feel anything. If someone were to stab him where the marks are he would probably not even notice it until it reaches deep enough in this flesh.
To be honest it feels like they're kind of all over the place, but I had a lot of fun writing about it!
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bonesthebeloved · 5 years
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Of sunsets and Evening gowns - a Good Omens fanfic
@punk-aziraphale I thought you might like this???
count: 5772
Summary: A brief history of a fallen angel, his soulmate, his struggle with gender and a ineffable happy ending
TRIGGER/SQUIK WARNING: Period typical trans/homophobia, crying, emotional distress, discription of pain (the fall), mention of food (if I forgot any, feel free to point them out to me)
Story:
He'd always rather enjoyed sunsets.
One of the almighty her better inventions; colours bleeding through the sky and shadows stretched long and dark, the red and orange and deep purple hitting the objects in the light's way to the earth underneath his feet, wrapping them in the soft glow of the last hours of the day.
Now that he thought of it, he wasn't quite sure if God herself had created the colourful wave of goodbye the sun gave the earth every time it turned.
It must've been another angel, She had never been one for details like these.
And maybe it was well known who had created it!
Dawn and Dusk, morning and evening.
Yes, maybe it was. Though he wouldn't know either way.
He'd never really had contact with the others, too far off in the galaxy creating stars and nebulas to be around them much and always getting ushers away from them when he got too close.
'I want to see what they are making,' he had said. Well, not really. Back then they didn't really have a voice. Or something that could be considered a body, for that matter.
'Don't dwell on them, brother,' had been his answer. 'They are lesser, as we are the ones that give shape to the divine plan.'
Back then, when everything had still been peaceful and emotions and actions were being named left and right, he had agreed with his brother. Simply because, in the short time that the emotion had existed, he had felt nothing but annoyance for Gabriel.
A few years went by (after someone had gone through the trouble of naming them just that) before he returned to earth, his newest creations merely small white dots in the endless dark of the night sky as he sat on what would soon be called the wall of Eden, the feet of his now human-shaped form, dangling over the edge of it as he looked out over the garden;
The trees and flowers and water and dirt still untouched by any living creature except for the angel that brought them into existence.
"Brother, what are you doing here? Gabriel has been asking for you."
The term brother didn't feel as if it were fitting for his relationship with the other archangels. Not really.
Though a different term for what they would then be hadn't been invented yet and he didn't bother doing it himself.
"Hello, Lucifer. Sorry for worrying you. Was just curious 'bout what the other angels have been so busy creating down here. Seems like it's quite a lot."
"That it does, Raphael."
"You ever wonder what this is all supposed to be for? Her, creating all of this just to test the humans I mean?"
Lucifer sat down next to him now, a reserved expression on his face, both of their wings brushing the stone beneath them where they were stretched comfortably behind them. There was no reason to hide their wings. Not yet anyway.
"Every day I wonder brother. You're not alone in your doubts. I overheard her saying terrible things: Talk of death and disease. Of war and hunger. I wonder why she would subject any creature of her own making to such cruelty. Wonder if the souls that will be lost due to her testing would mean anything to Her. And, if they do not, if ours don't do so either."
Lucifer had always had a way with words. Good at getting what he wanted when he wanted it by carefully selecting them and twisting them into complex puzzles which one would only figure out when listening to them a couple of times.
Raphael nodded in agreement before actually realising he was doing so.
But there were more important things about this that he should have realised.
Like how Lucifer was more manipulative than he was simply pushy. That he had him wrapped around his finger and, that with that simple nod, he had signed for his own execution.
***
He liked to tell others that he didn't really fall. That it hadn't hurt him as much as it had the others and that he went on his accords; only because he wanted to go and not so much because God had cast him out.
But when one hits the ground so harshly, any fragile human would have died on impact, his wings burning and burning and his sight gone, body heat dropping rapidly, there is not much else one could do except scream in pure agony.
After what felt like double the time he had been alive for until then -which had been quite a while- he regained his vision again, now able to see significantly better in the dark and make out his wings, black as night and every movement hurting him so severely he was certain he had burns all over the muscles and fat underneath the burned mass of feathers.
It wasn't crowded, not yet anyhow.
Lucifer and he had fallen first.
'To show the others that She will have no mercy,' his brother had said. The darkness around them so dark that it hid what he had become or currently was becoming.
Once more angels fell, he asked his brother what they'd do now. Though before he could even get past the last vowel of his name he heard Lucifer hiss at him as if the mere mention of his name had hurt him.
'We can't keep our old names brother. They are God-given and will, therefore, do us harm. Demons aren't made to have anything angelic.'
The word 'demon' had never been used before that exact moment. Though as it rolled off of his brother's tongue, Raphael knew that that was exactly what they were...
***
He got the job just four days after falling.
Lucifer, who now called himself Satan and who Raphael no longer saw as anything close to a brother (or an ally and trustworthy person for that matter) telling him to 'cause some trouble' as that was what they were now meant to be doing.
He was happy to leave; Hell (which is what they had called their new home) had gotten awfully crowded and, as the boundaries had disappeared with angels falling from the sky, way too touchy for his liking. He'd refused a position of power after being offered one. Had refused to rule alongside Satan or do anything that would elevate his status in any way. So Satan, seeing no other use for him, had given him a mission and it was so that he made his way to earth for the very first time since the fall.
He searched out a reflective surface -in this case, a large body of water he would later learn was called a lake- as soon as he arrived, finally able to see what he looked like and if he had changed anywhere near as severely as Lucifer had done.
He hadn't, it turned out. His skin was not red and burned like his brother's was and in almost every way he looked the same as he had done before the fall. Maybe dishevelled and wearing black, ash stained clothing instead of the pure and clinical white he'd worn before, though the same none the less,
That is, nearly everything.
He stared at his reflection. Yellow, reptile-like eyes staring back at him, unblinking. The slits thin and fearful looking. The yellow having driven away every bit of white in his eyes.
He hadn't found it so bad at first. Had almost found them charming in the way they reminded him of his creations, the only animal-like creatures he had created that slithered through the trees and winded their elegant bodies around the branches, scales shimmering in the sunlight.
After hearing about how there was only one rule he could have the newly made humans break to satisfy Lucifer's urging on to make them break as many as possible, it only seemed logical to turn into one of his serpent friends and tempt the curious Eve to eat an apple.
***
The angel was strange.
For starters, he knew that they were supposed to be enemies. That the divine had urged them all on to smite every demon within smithing range.
What he also knew though, was that Aziraphale would not be doing any smithing and that hiding from the rain under an angel's wing was comfortable and way more so than he had deemed appropriate for all of his four days in Hell.
Another thing he did know was that, as soon as the name Crawley had left his lips, rolling off his tongue while they watched the humans set their first steps outside of the garden, was that he didn't like it. It almost sounded like an insult to him and to the lovely creatures Eve was so kind as to give the name 'snakes' to.
Of course, he wouldn't ask Aziraphael what his name was before a good hundred years had passed. That he technically didn't have to ask as he had somehow known it before he had even crawled up on the wall of Eden was beside the point.
***
The relationship they formed over the decennia, over thousands of years, was something that transcended human description.
Some might call them lovers when seeing them walk alongside each other in the park or dine at yet another small establishment Crowley had found for them. Maybe it was the way Aziraphale always called him dear in that soft, endearing ton of his or maybe it was because Crowley had called Aziraphale angel so many times it had led to the humans making it a pet name of their own after one of them overheard him saying it.
Others would call them friends. With the way, they always were there for each other and could talk for hours and hours with a good bottle of wine. Discussions going on deep into the night about the memories they had made.
The ones who called them soulmates would probably be the ones closest to an even vaguely accurate explanation.
The way they felt lost when the other was gone. How they seemed to know every quirk and every thought and the thought process behind it so well it seemed to others as if they had invented telepathy.
And yet, Aziraphale always seemed just out of reach.
When Crowley asked for them to go to a restaurant the first time, he got shot down with a dismissive wave and an awkward laugh,
When he asked again about three-hundred years later, he got a soft 'You go to fast for me Crowley' in return and proceded to wrack his brain over that sentence. He had goten drunk and sobered up and got drunk again and had talked to his plants while they shook in fear, their owner rambling on about those seven words. Speculating if it was only ment to be about the speed at which he drove and if it wasn't, what the angel had ment by it otherwise.
It had taken him hours and several bottles of various types of alcohol to come to the conclusion that, if it meant something other than him using the entirety of his bentley's speedometer, that he would just wait and see how their relationship progressed.
***
Crowley and Aziraphale, just like all angels and demons, were both technically genderless.
Both of them had corperations which would be considered male though. And because they also tended to dress in mostly masculine ways (Crowely had once told the angel that the only reason for that was that most mens clothing was way more comfortable) and they had both chosen a male presenting bodies, they were spoken to as such and neither of them really minded.
But Crowley had always loved mixing it together.
'Womans' pants and skirt he liked he would buy without even thinking about the ridiculous gendering of things.
His 'experiments' had gotten less risky over the milenia as humans started to develop genderrolls and he was burned at the stake for wearing a lovely lightgrey and black dress in 1652. Aziraphale was still convinced that the burning had taken place because of the fire that had been floating just above Crowley's palm which he was using to heat up his tea with. But he could also admit that the wonderfully crafted dress probably hadn't helped his case.
The very first time (which also turned out to be the last time for quite a while) that Aziraphale had actually been there to witness Crowley's bolder fashin choices (the demon would laugh in your face for calling a certain piece of fabric a 'bold choice')  had been in the 80's.
A riot in Germany surrounding the wall that seperated the country in two had driven them both away and so they found themselves fleeing from their respective places to go to the safehouse they had created for the two of them somewhere in the late 20's.
England, which is were the lovely little cottage was located, was completely safe at the time, so, after greeting eachother with a handshake and a smile (Crowley had to restrain herself from giving the angel a hug.)  they decided on going to one of their newest discoveries: A small restaurant in an alleyway lit with fairy lights where they sold the most wonderful creme brulé.
Aziraphale was already waiting for the demon when she finally came out of her room, hands twisting nervously in the material of the slightly flowy skirt. The fabric looked like some very light cotton, the jet black thing having a high waistband that made the dark grey button-up she had tucked into it poof up a little.
With her currently delightfully long and partly braided hair completing the look Aziraphale had a hard time keeping his hands to himself as Crowley gave him an anxious smile, eyes flickering from Aziraphale to the floor, to the wall and back to Aziraphale again.
"You look wonderful my dear. Come on now, dinner awaits."
The angel knew, of course, that this was the first time Crowley wore anything considered too feminine for a mostly male presenting person to wear since that dicorperation about 360 years ago.
What Aziraphale also knew though, was that his companion looked positively deligtful and so very fragile in the way she kept adjusting the skirt. He would try to make sure the fragilness would be replaced with confidence even if it was the last thing he did.
So he stuck out his arm, offering it to the demon with a small smile. It quickly turning into a wide grin as Crowley reluctantly took it and smiled back at him as he opened the door for the both of them.
"Shall we then, my dear?"
***
Humans could be cruel.
He had realised this many times in the past and would realise it again on many occasion in the future.
That didn't mean that he was prepared in the slightest for what waited for his partner outside of the bookshop.
Slur after slur was thrown her way. Their way, in some occasions of people taking note of their linked arms. Pebbles and food was thrown at Crowley (all of it miraculously missing her of course) and glare after glare, whisper after wisper he saw the small smile slide of off her lips,
Hadn't it been for Aziraphale letting go off the simple spell that kept his ethernal form hidden and showing some rather rude gentelmen his true form, Crowley would have actually been assaulted. (That she could very well defend herself or, if need be, simply transform into a snake and slither away from them, did not occur to him.)
They returned to the bookshop before less than an hour had passed between that moment and them first exiting it. 
They hadn't gone to the restaurant and Aziraphale now had a firm arm around Crowley who was strangely quiet, even her slightly too fast intakes of breath being nearly unnoticable.
"My dear, are you alri-" "It'sssss fine angel. I'm doing sssssuper."
Crowley seemed to get slightly mad after the last part, Harshly ripping the skirt off and miracled herself into a large black hoodie and some jeans. She pulled her legs up and curled up on the couch rather then taking on her usual position of laying sprawled out over it in the most obnoxious way possible, hair now up in a messy bun that made the angel itch to undo it and run his hands through her hair.
Aziraphale watched her, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he nodded and silently went to make his demon some tea.
He had just poured the water into the cups as he felt something nudging his left pants leg, looking down just in time to see the end of a scaled black tail before the head of a rather large snake peeked over the counter to look at him. The snake reluctantly slithering towards the angel's outstretched hand after a while.
"Oh! Hello there beauty" Aziraphale's voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke to the snake, carefully petting her head before letting her wind herself around his arm and drape over his shoulders comfortably, size seeming to be significantly smaller as she had been a second ago.
Aziraphale simply smiled and ran a hand over the smooth scales before picking up the two mugs and carrying them (and the serpent) towards his rarely used bedroom rather than towards the couch they had previously been sitting on.
The snake (or rather, Crowley as a snake, let's not beat around the bush here) hissed quietly in a manner that the angel identified as one of unease, resulting in Aziraphale quietly explaining that she needed some rest.
And thus the cups were set down, Aziraphale miracled himself into some rather comfy pyjamas (He still prefered to sleep nude, though he didn't think Crowley would apprechiate that very much at that particular moment) and the demon lay rolled up comfortably in the angels arms, yellow eyes with dialated pupils lazily looking up at him before blinking shut.
The angel laid them both down carefully, shifting the serpent in his arms to make sure they were both comfortable. He was sure that Crowley had fallen asleep by the time he whispered a soft 'you looked wonderful in that skirt my dear.' And then, ten minutes later, he finally felt able to say the rest: "I hope you know that I love you, no matter what form, body or clothing, I always will."
After ten long seconds of silence, Aziraphale already accepting that he wouldn't get a reply and have made peace with the fact that it simply was a conversation for another time, felt Crowley slowly shift back into her human form and, once she was fully changed, wrap her arms around the angel.
He didn't get a verbal reply back then. Didn't get one for a long time after that either. But angels weren't anything if not patient. And it was alright.
He could live with it. He hadn't been pushed away or told of after all.
***
Crowley, for all the years he had loved Aziraphale in a way that couldn't just be explained with a simple 'I love you' was utterly useless when it came to telling the other that the feeling of love wat mutual. Nothing really changed after that evening after all. Thought Crowley didn't wear skirts again up until it being his desguise in their plan to prevent Armagedon.
He didn't say anything about the confession Aziraphale had made up until Armaged-oh-never-mind and a bit after that.
He didn't say anything until four months after said even had not taken place and he and the angel had decided that today was an excelent day to visit Anathema. The Them had just left, Adam giving them both a wide and highly un-Antichrist-like grin as Pepper rambled on about how they ought to make mudpies this time instead of the horendous stone and sand filled cake they'd made last time Wensleydale wanted to play bakery.
Anathema had told the two celestial beings to go sit in the back room and make themselves comfortable while she and Newt prepared dinner and so they sat, watching the raindrops on the windows when Aziraphale started the conversation.
"Do you remember what it was like? Heaven, I mean. I've heard of demons forgetting everything before the fall and we've never talked about it before but I fell as if... You talk about certain things, like the stars and the galaxy as if you watched them be created and I- Oh dear is this a bad subject?"
Crowley knew the last part had been added because of how pale he had gotten. How still he was sitting. 
Crowley also knew that, how much easier it would be to lie put aside, he would never do that to Aziraphale.
So he secured himself. Mentally hiding away in his little bomb shelter and hoping for the best.
"Yeah, most of them forgot. Memory wiped. Clean slate and all that. I... remember though. Not everything of course, and it took me a he- heav- an awfully long time to recover them.
I remember... I remember the fall. How it felt. The creations we all put into the world..."
Aziraphale, though he'd pulled away, backpaddled as soon as he realised this topic was making his partner highly uncomfortable, latched onto the new conversation topic like a predator to its prey.
"What was your favourite creation then?"
Crowley thought for a moment, Snakes had been It by a long shot had you asked him 6000 years ago. But times change, and so do celestial beings. And his hatred for the snake eyes that had always made him not able to fit in just right ran deep.
"I quite enjoy the Nebula's I helped create. Alpha Centaury still has that little something that just pulls me towards it. Two stars always circling until they will eventually collide and become one, go down together."
"Wasn't Alpha Centaury-" "The one I asked you to run away to? Yeah. A bit selfish of me to pick my own I know."
Aziraphale stayed very quiet as Crowley watched how the raindrops ran down the glass. Grey clouds obscuring the sunset that should be happening right about now and putting a slight damper on the contentness he felt.
"...Did- Didn't the archangels create all the stars, my dear boy?"
Ah, that's what he had been forgetting then. He looked at Aziraphale out of the corner of his reptilian eye, seeing how the angel was watching him closely.
"Crowley?"  he turned his head now, meeting his partners gaze head-on at that specific moment felt nearly as difficult as it had been to walk on the holiest of grounds in the body that wasn't his to undergo an execution which he knew would fail. Nearly.
"Crowley were you- and don't lie to me, my dear. We're you-"
He must've said it. Crowley was sure of it. But he hadn't heard it.
The word forbidden, burning him like a red hot iron rod would have done. And Aziraphale must've noticed him hissing. Watched him crumble and catch his breath as if he'd just been punched.
"Crowley?"
"Yeah. Fine- I'm fine. I jussst-whatss the he-heav-ssssomthing! What was that? "
"I don't know. Are you alright?" and then, once he was sure Crowley was not harmed in any way: "And I know I'm pushy my dear but this is important. Are y-" Crowley silenced him with a hiss and a warning finger. Eyes wide and panicked.
"Don't- don't say that. The name. I- It hurts me."
"So... So you are-"
"Yeah. I guess I- I don't know angel. Whatever you said, whatever name must be correct as otherwise, it wouldn't have-... Yeah. The name is the only thing I could never remember."
Aziraphale kept silent, simply looking at him with a strange sort of sadness in his eyes. Maybe a bit of betrayal.
" I'm sorry I never told you, angel. I was just... Scared, I guess. "
The other nodded, still sitting very still and watching him. Behind them, thunder rumbled as the sky darkened.
"W-what was your favourite? Creation I mean."
The angel gave him a sad smile at the change of topic and reached out, wanting to pat his hand, though decided against it and laid his own on the armrest instead.
"I always quite liked the pufferfish I made. Funny creatures, those things.
Though sunsets are my favourite I believe. The pretty colours making up the golden hour, quite proud of those."
Crowley, who had been fidgeting with one of his jacket pockets, looked up sharply, staring at the angel for a hot second before blurting out 'you made the sunset?' immediately followed by a quick 'sorry' as he realised how blunt that sounded.
Though Aziraphale only looked happily surprised at the reaction, glad he could lend the other a distraction.
"I did. Always found it too boring so I threw some colours in. I'm not sure Emanuel was happy with me playing around with his morning and evening concept but it made the humans smile once they saw it so I think it was worth it."
"Sunsets have always been my favourite thing about the earth," Crowley said without really being able to stop himself.
"I've always wondered who would think of such a thing. Looking back I suppose it should be obvious that you would be that angel. You've always been the only creative one out of all the bastards up there."
They both laughed at that, light and unbothered as the raindrops raced each other down the glass.
" I meant what I said in the 80s you know. "
The topic change came sudden and made Crowley forget that his human body needed air for a few moments.
It was said with such intense casualty. The meaning carefully woven through the words and tone one that would be normal if this had been said mere hours, or perhaps days, after that confession. Not nearly forty years.
"About me loving you no matter what, I mean. We do need to talk about you being... Them. Someday, that is. But not now if you don't want to. And I do get it if you don't want to be associated with me like that. But I wanted you to know so you-" "Angel"
Aziraphale looked at him, cutting his nervous ramble short, eyes round, blown wide as he let Crowley take his hand.
There were so many ways he had told the angel that he cared about him deeply without having said 'I love you'.
He didn't think it was needed. That there were better ways of showing it. Like dinners and offers for a lift home. Like picking up a signed copy of a book that the angel just happened to be looking for for the last few months and like an offer to stay at his flat while the both of them sat on a bench in a small village.
And perhaps, for him there were. But Aziraphale needed the confirmation. Needed those words so he would stop doubting what they had was special.
"Aziraphale..."
He said again, a small smile tugging at his lips."I love you to angel."
Said celestial seemed to suddenly relax as if all of the air had been let out of him. Like a deflating balloon, as his face lit up with a smile so bright Crowley felt the need to reach for his shades that sat on the table beside them.
"Oh thank the lord-" (Crowley whispered a quick 'she had nothing to do with it' under his breath at that) "-Then I won't have to return this." And with one fluid movement, he pulled out a little velvet black box.
"Zira... Is that-" "A wedding ring yes you're correct." "And you want to-... With me?"
Aziraphale smile got possibly even brighter as he nodded enthusiastically. "As if I would ever give it to anybody else. I thought, as we are already bound to each other for life and both care about each other very much, why not get married!"
"You-I- we can't- demon?"
"Crowley, if you're about to say that we can't because of our respective sides, let me remind you of a certain conversation we've had about us being on our own side."
"No, Zira I didn't--well, I did but that's not what I wanted to say."
What Crowley actually had wanted to say, would have been something along the lines of 'I've been dropping hint for 6000 FUCKING YEARS angel but to straight-up ask me to marry you might be moving a bit to fast even for me.' or perhaps 'Of course I'll say yes angel don't give and never have given two shits about what above or down under think now please show me the ring or I might cry.'
Though what actually came out of the demon's mouth, was sputtering and a slightly chocked up sound, Aziraphale merely waiting for his response to get somewhat closer to becoming words, the little black ring box still closed in his slightly outstretched hand.
"Can I... Can I see it? The ring I mean."
"Oh, of course, my dear. Though I must warn you, it's a bit cheesy. If you truly don't like it we can always go get ourselves some new ones."
When Crowley opened the little box, a high pitched noise came out of his throat, the only thing he could manage was to simply stare down at the ring.
Two light gold angel wings, tips and basses touching to form a perfectly round circle Crowley was sure to fit like a glove once he put it on. The represented his angel, of course.
"Aziraphale, I-" "It's alright if you don't like it. That's not what it's about after all but-" "No angel, I love it. It's beautiful but I-well I've had this for so long and I didn't know you would-... Well, beat me to the punch I suppose."
At that he reached into his inner pocket to pull out a pure white box, the thing having sat in the pocket for such a long time that the angel has stopped noticing that there was something there.
The demon opened the box, revealing a simple silver band, a small and incredibly detailed black snake wrapping around it two times.
" Crowley is that-" "An engagement ring? Yes. I should've asked sooner, or at least told you but... Well, I'm not the best at expressing any sorts of love."
"Well then, we better get on with it then, right?"  the angel said, giving Crowley a nervous smile before getting down on one knee.
Both of them were too wrapped up at the moment to notice Anathema standing by the door, leaning against the doorframe as she watched the scene unfold.
" Anthony J. Crowley." Aziraphale started, watching as the fond little smile on the demons faces morphed into a full-on, gleeful grin. "I've known you since the very beginning, we've gone through literally everything together and while no human word would be able to accurately describe what we are to each other, I've found that the word soulmate to be a term I've grown quite fond of when referring to you in my head. We've known each other since the very beginning and will continue to know each other till the very end. This human formality is not necessary in any way. But 'my husband' or 'my wife' has always had a nice ring to it for me and I'm certain it would feel like just another type of connection we'd share.
So Crowley. Anthony J- demon- Crowley, will you marry me?"
Crowley's world seemed to be nearly as frozen as it had been when he had actually stopped time.
He was aware of his heart thumping very fast, almost obnoxiously so, seeing as it technically had no purpose whatsoever. He was aware of the sound of the drops hitting the cemented tiles on Anathema her terras and was fully and wholeheartedly aware that neither of those things should be holding his attention right now.
"I-yeah. Yes of course angel."
Aziraphale. Even as Crowley didn't dem it possible, smiled even brighter as he had before, a bit of his angelic grace momentarily slipping through, the faint outlines of wings shimmering in the air behind his back.
He hugged Crowley then, soft curls tickeling his counterparts neck as his face lay buried in his neck.
Now, it's important that you are aware of a certain quirk that our angel has. Aziraphale, when extremely happy or content, would accidentally influence his surroundings. Not that a poor man suddenly winning the lottery with the single ticket he'd bought or every rose in the garden blooming in mid-winter was a particularly bad thing, it was just rather odd to most bystanders. And, because Crowley had experienced such phenomenon before and was fully aware of the possibility of it happening at that moment he was only mildly surprised when it stopped raining and every flower in Anathema's garden opened up at once.
"Aziraphale?" they were still hugging, Crowley resting his chin on his angel's shoulder, Anathema smiling and slipping away (before either of them could notice her) to go and get the two of them a slice of cake by their tea as a form of celebration.
"Yes, my dear boy?"
"What would you say if I were to wear a dress to our wedding?"
Aziraphale felt like a bit of his heart melted at the fragile tone that barely covered up layers and layers of insecurities his demon had hid away for so long it had become another part of his personality.
"I would tell you that I would be absolutely delighted and quite sure that you would look all kinds of wonderful Crowley."
The demon made a little happy noise in the back of his throat muffled by the angles shoulder as he watched the last of the raindrops race each other down the glass and a soft breeze swept away the clouds to reveal the sun setting between the trees of Anathema's garden.
And the evening sky tinted red and yellow as the sun sank down, at peace with the world she was leaving behind.
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