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whispers-of-lilith · 4 months

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THEIR FAVORITE PLACE TO FINISH - JJK EDITION

A/N: Hey! This is my first time posting something that isn't a short, incorrect quote, so honestly, I'm a little nervous. This stemmed from a conversation I had with @lale-txt, thank you Lale for listening to my rambling about silly questions!

Summary: Toji, like most others, has a preference of where he likes to spill his load. [Well, when he's not allowed to finish inside that is...]

Warnings: Toji is his own warning, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Spanking, Overstimulation, Pet Names [Princess], Backshots, Pussy Shots [?]. [If I missed anything important, please let me know, I'm not used to tagging things]

Word Count: ~0.6k

❀ BACKSHOTS ❀

One of Toji's favorite positions to have you in is face down, ass up, while he rails you from behind. With one foot on the ground, he places his other foot on the bed for leverage as he pounds into you mercilessly.

Toji loves the way your ass jiggles with each thrust he drives into you. Although, the snap of his hips against your plush ass is occasionally replaced with his large hand coming down for a sharp smack. The sting is painful enough to make you yelp, but he's quick to knead the angry, red flesh in an attempt to soothe it.

Toji pounds into you so harshly, that his heavy balls slap against your poor, sensitive clit. Yet, when you try to crawl away, whimpering about it being too much, he responds with, “tsk, we're not done yet Princess, you can take a little more f'me can't ya?”

And he's got you fucked so dumb that you simply nod through the tears. The familiar tightness of another impending orgasm settling in the pit of your stomach as his pace remains relentless.

As your legs begin to tremble, ready to give out under you, Toji swiftly grips your hip with one hand to keep you close. His other hand trails up your spine, his thick fingers tangling in your hair to push your head down into the sheets below.

The intermingled sounds of your shared pleasure quickly fills the space like an unseen symphony. His grunts of exertion, your cries of begging him for more and the distinct sound of skin slapping against skin– a song of desire meant for only you and Toji.

With his body leaned over yours, he ruts himself into your cunt like an animal to chase his high. The sound of your muffled moans and whimpers only make Toji snap his hips into yours that much harsher.

As he finds himself close to cumming, he releases your hair, bringing his hand down to circle your neglected clit. You cry out his name over and over like a mantra as he causes a forceful orgasm to wash over you. Toji's pace falters as your walls contract deliciously on his cock and after a few more harsh thrusts he just barely manages to pull out.

With a groan, he rests his cock on your ass, his hand pumping his dick with fervor. Toji tosses his head back as he loses himself to the pleasure. A string of curses leaving his lips in a growl before rope after rope of his cum paints your back.

❀ BONUS ❀

Other times, Toji is not a fan when you tell him he has to pull out. It was supposed to be a compromise between you both, if he didn't wear a condom, then he had to make sure to pull out.

He'd make sure you're too fucked out and drunk on his cock before giving you that signature smirk. The one where you know he's up to something, but you're too lost in the pleasure to realize what it is. You can't help but panic when Toji's thrusts become sloppy, his cock slamming impossibly deep in your pussy, but he makes no move to pull out.

You cry out his name, palms pushing weakly against his sweat coated abs– and just when you think he's about to fill you with his seed, he pulls out. Albeit, just barely. He keeps the tip of his cock so close to your spasming hole, finishing all over your slick folds.

Toji would even be smug enough to run his cock up and down his cum like an asshole. Only to glance up at your pouting face with a shrug and say, “technically, I did pull out, Princess”.

©️ The following work is property of Whispers-of-lilith. Please do not copy, replicate, repost, plagiarize, or steal any parts of the above writing. Shares, likes & reblogs are extremely appreciated!

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jiabeewrites · 1 year

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The Devil Doesn't Settle (1/?)

(aesthetic by @aesthetics-and-fuckery, yeah, that's me. do NOT steal this!)

Harry Potter/Wizarding World x DC

Pairing: Klarion Bleak x Fem!Reader, Lilith Bleak (OC) x Fem!Reader

CW: romance, past breakups, use of she/her, language, shitty attempt at angst, author attempted to not use y/n and i think i succeeded but who knows, klarion & lilith are being lil bitches who doesn't know how to romance, playing with feelings, wizarding relations are really weird, toxic relationships probably, pining, i think that's it but if there's more tell me!

Summary: Reader is an exchange student. She's a witch, but not the kind that hogwarts is used to. She uses pentagrams and incantations instead of wands and spells. She uses poisons and candles rather than potions and charms. She practices moonlit summonings instead of defense against the dark arts. So what happens when not one, but two lords of chaos appear in the middle of the great hall, both claiming to be her lover? (this is part one of a multi-part series, so look out for a pt 2!)

SONG: Devil Doesn't Bargain by Alec Benjamin

A/N: The formatting refused to work ;-; I'm sorry if I offended anyone! I just tried to portray traditional-ish(?) witchcraft in the way that I've kinda seen it portrayed in fiction. Please don't take this seriously, this is a work of fiction and isn't meant to portray witchcraft seriously.

HOW TO READ: Each set of lyrics is kinda like a divider! each section of words/blurb between the lyrics are their own moment, and this particular piece has multiple little moments. Definitely timeskips. You can find more stories like this one by looking under the tag #ryn writes songfics

It's useless, don't do this It's hubris to try He's ruthless, you knew this I told you, didn't I?

"Godrick, why is she even here?"

"I heard they let her in only because she threatened them."

"Her snake is so creepy!"

The whispers shrouded her like the mists of her home. But instead of bringing her comfort, these were laced with poison, bringing her pain.

They practiced magic, same as her, so what was the problem?

Her familiar, Noodle, curled tighter around her shoulders, seeking comfort. He didn't like it here, either.

"I know, guksu, I know."

"Why are you talking to your snake?"

A ginger-haired boy with a trillion freckles was staring at her.

"His name is Noodle. Guksu means noodles," she said, frowning. "I just call him that sometimes to calm him down."

"Weird." One of his friends, a girl with bushy brown hair, smacked him.

"Ron! Be nice," she scolded. He just raised an eyebrow.

"Why? Isn't she the one who summons demons?"

Ron. So that was his name.

She tucked that away for future reference.

He's abusive, elusive The truth is, he lies I know you don't want to let go

The caws of ravens and the croaks of bullfrogs echoed throughout the classroom.

"Silencio! SILENCIO!" That boy from earlier, Ron, was trying to silence his raven to no avail.

"It’s the way you’re moving your wand,” the girl next to him said, watching Ron critically. "You don’t want to wave it, it’s more a sharp jab."

"Ravens are harder than frogs," he said, frowning.

"Fine, let’s swap," she retorted, seizing Ron’s raven and replacing it with her own fat bullfrog. "Silencio!" The raven continued to open and close its sharp beak, but no sound came out.

"Very good, Miss Granger!" said Professor Flitwick’s squeaky little voice. The trio jumped in their seats. "Now, let me see you try, Mr. Weasley!"

"Wha — ? Oh — oh, right,” said Ron, very flustered. "Er — Silencio!" He jabbed at the bullfrog so hard that he poked it in the eye; the frog gave a deafening croak and leapt off the desk.

"Hmm..." That was when Flitwick noticed her.

"Miss? Why don't you give it a go?" Startled, she flinched but nodded. She pulled out a vial of white powder from her bag, sprinkled some of it on the bird, who squawked indignantly, and began chanting.

"Tace, tace, sile. Tace, tace, sile."

The raven's caws became fainter and fainter with every round of chanting, and soon, the bird became completely silent.

She looked up at the professor and the trio, who looked at her with facination and horror, respectively.

Right when she was leaving the class, she could have sworn that she heard Ron say: "That girl is mental, I swear!"

He shut up when Noodle hissed at him.

And just like before I can see that you're sure You can change him but I know you won't

She lurked at the back of the class, trying to see what all the commotion was about.

"an’ here’s another couple, look —"

Two black, skeletal horses came quietly out of the trees, one of them passing very close to dark-skinned girl, who shivered and pressed herself closer to a tree, saying, "I think I felt something, I think it’s near me!"

"Don’ worry, it won’ hurt yeh," said Hagrid patiently. "Righ’, now, who can tell me why some o’ you can see them an’ some can’t?"

The girl from earlier raised her hand to answer.

"The only people who can see thestrals," she said, "are people who have seen death."

"Tha’s exactly right," said Hagrid solemnly, "ten points ter Gryffindor. Now, thestrals —"

He was interrupted by a soft "hem, hem."

Professor Umbridge had arrived. She was wearing a green hat and cloak with her clipboard at the ready. Hagrid, who had never heard Umbridge’s fake cough before, was gazing in some concern at the closest thestral, evidently under the impression that it had made the sound.

"Hem, hem."

"Oh hello!" Hagrid said, smiling, having located the source of the noise.

"You received the note I sent to your cabin this morning?" she asked. "Telling you that I would be inspecting your lesson?"

"Oh yeah," said Hagrid brightly. "Glad yeh found the place all righ’! Well, as you can see — or, I dunno — can you? We’re doin’ thestrals today —"

"I’m sorry?" said Umbridge loudly, cupping her hand around her ear and frowning. "What did you say?"

Hagrid looked a little confused.

"Er — thestrals!" he said loudly. "Big — er — winged horses, yeh know!" He flapped his gigantic arms hopefully. Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows at him and muttered as she made a note on her clipboard, "has . . . to . . . resort . . . to . . . crude . . . sign . . . language . . ."

She began walking among the students, asking questions about Hagrid and making rude comments about him.

Noodle hissed at her, and she had to put her hand on him to rein him in.

"I don't like that bitch."

"Well, neither do I, but what do you want me to do, poison her?" She muttered.

"Yessss."

She rolled her eyes and looked up, only to see Umbridge staring back at her.

"Why are you talking to your pet instead of paying attention to the lesson? And why is your pet out in the first place?" The toad-like woman asked with fake honey dripping from her voice.

"He's not my pet, he's my familiar. And death isn't exactly my favorite subject," she retorted. All eyes were on them now.

"Pet or...otherwise, I don't think that the ministry would approve of a student having access to their pet at all times," Umbridge remarked, making a note on her clipboard.

"Well lucky for you, I'm not a european citizen. So I don't think your ministry has to worry about me. And Noodle's my familiar. Not. My. Pet," she ground out.

"Twenty points from Slytherin," Umbridge said waspishly, and tried to take the snake away from her. She was met with a hiss and Noodle's fangs.

"Detention, and if I see your snake again I will not hesitate to have a talk with your head of house." Her nostrils flared, and she backed away and headed towards the castle, probably to tell the minister to make another Educational Decree.

"His name is Noodle!" She yelled at the retreating woman, smirking victoriously. Noodle just nuzzled up to his human's face.

The devil doesn't bargain He'll only break your heart again It isn't worth it, darling He's never gonna change

The Great Hall was buzzing with conversation and laughter. It was Halloween, and the Gryffindor house had basically adopted her ever since her little scuffle with Umbridge.

"So your sna-Noodle is bound to you?" Hermion asked. The so-called Golden Trio had taken a liking to her since she didn't seem to like Umbridge either.

"Yeah," she replied. "Noodle is...well, he protects me and I protect him. It's kinda complicated, and I don't 100% understand myself. But he's my best friend." At this, Noodle squeezed her shoulders affectionately and snuck a bit of food off her fork.

"Interesting...does he enhance your powers in any way?"

"Uh...we didn't really try that. But my-er, a friend of mine has a familiar and she keeps him attached to the mortal plane."

Just then, a bright red portal appeared in midair. Two figures were flung out of it, and they seemed to be arguing. In the middle of the hall. Suspended in the air.

She seemed to recognize them, and groaned when she did.

"Klarion and Lilith Bleak get your asses down here right now!"

The two stopped arguing and grinned. With a pop they appeared in front of her, smiling like kids in a candy shop. One had a lovesick expression, the other had a flirtatious smirk.

"Hello, love."

He'll never be Prince Charming He'll only do you harm again I don't mean to meddle But the devil doesn't settle

No, the devil doesn't bargain

(part 1/?)

#klarion the witch boy #lilith the witch girl #klarion bleak #lilith bleak #witch!reader #hogwarts #harry potter x dc #harry potter x yj #hogwarts x reader #klarion x reader #lilith x reader #jiabeewrites #ryn writes songfics

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smalltownfae · 2 months

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Books read in 2024: The Whispering Muse by Laura Purcell Rating: 5/5

Jenny is down on her luck when she receives a great deal from a lady called Mrs. Dyer. In exchange for money and other favors, she has to spy on an actress called Lilith while taking care of her makeup and wardrobe. The theatre is full with people that believe in superstitions and there is a mysterious clock said to whisper to someone who is in possession of it while tragedy follows.

This was one of the most engaging reads I experienced in a long time. The writing style made everything flow so naturally, the characters were interesting and the different mysteries kept me wanting to read a chapter immediately one after the other.

The book is divided into five acts and, even though I don't think it's necessary to have read the plays presented here, some knowledge about them is helpful in order to notice all the details. The author makes a good job at stating what the plays are about and their themes for the most part and someone that is familiar with them might even find the few repetitions annoying at times. The plays presented are Faust, Macbeth, The Duchess of Malfi, Antony and Cleopatra and Romeo and Juliet. The plot has strong connection to these plays.

The main themes presented are family, superstition, jealousy, revenge and fame while adressing the struggles for women in Victorian London. The three major female characters have really strong personalities and are interesting in their own way. Lilith intrigued me from the start, but Jenny ended up being the best for me because I liked to see her development when it comes to her initial judgements and the care for her family while learning to take care of herself too.

The ending went on for a little too long. Near the end I caught myself thinking "it isn't done yet?" but the finale made sense and it closed with a bang.

I only read two books by this author, this one and The Silent Companions, and so far this one is my favourite. I definitely want to read more of her works.

#the whispering muse #laura purcell #books read in 2024

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idreamofhazel · 2 years

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The Boyking-Chapter 13

A huntress has set out to end the reign of the new king of hell. But killing a Winchester is never easy, and she might find that Sam isn’t who she thought he was…

Masterpost here.

Chapter Word Count: 1867

Warnings: show-typical gore

A/N: Beta’d by @impala-dreamer.

“There’s been attacks for the past two months, each on the night of a full moon. But the police haven’t put two and two together.” Dean briefed Dallas en route. Apparently, he’d made contact with the local law enforcement after the first suspicious death, a strategy he'd made a habit over the years, she learned. “The victims show typical signs of a werewolf attack,” he continued. “Large claw marks, a missing heart. And, so far, the victims have been in the same neighborhood, which means our wolf isn’t straying too far from home.”

“But,“ Dallas interrupted, looking out the window. The sun sat on the horizon like a fat orange-yellow egg yolk, staining the sky and puffy clouds in similar shades of the color. “The moon isn’t out.”

She didn’t mention it in the hotel room before they’d left. They had needed to be on their way as fast as possible. The sun being out wouldn’t change that fact that a person had died, but it would affect the way their case could play out.

“Both the other attacks were the same,” Dean stated solemnly, watching the sky slowly turning more orange, tinging the edges of the clouds on the horizon almost red.

Dallas felt the uneasiness with which Dean added the last piece of information. She understood what it could mean for this case if a werewolf, or werewolves, were acting… different, strange, unpredictable. She didn’t speak the obvious thing that was understood between her and Dean—that Lilith, or some other demon in her ranks, could be behind the murders, pulling strings they didn’t yet know existed.

Instead of saying all of that, Dallas changed the subject. “Pretending to be FBI… I’m impressed.” She wasn’t lying.

Dean shrugged. “It’s part of the job. You get that.”

Dallas shook her head. “I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve pretended to be an officer. I don’t know how to make all those fake badges and stuff.”

“Really? How’d you manage this job?” He sounded genuinely surprised.

“I pretend to be other people, nothing illegal,” she said with emphasis, “Reporters, friends of the deceased.”

“You must be real good at talking to people then.”

Dallas laughed. “Right. Me. Good at talking to people.”

“You talk alright with me,” Dean replied plainly.

“Only when bribed with beer. Which was shit by the way.”

Dean chuckled. Dallas found herself annoyed at the sound. She hadn’t meant to be funny. She’d meant to prove to him that their conversation minutes before had not been genuine.

“There were limited selections,” Dean added with another laugh.

Dallas scowled as the Impala’s tires hit gravel, driving up an alley situated on the backside of two quiet streets. They had a full view of the row of backyards on both their right and left as they stopped a ways back from where a group of officers were working. This neighborhood had probably never seen so much activity. Caution tape roped off an area behind a garage whose door stood right on the edge of the alley. Neighbors in their backyards were trying to get a look at the scene as police erected a divider, blocking the view of the body from the peeping toms.

And it was a good thing, too, because as Dean and Dallas approached the scene on foot, the mauled body laid in plain view, slumped against the metal door. Several swipes of claw marks tore across the poor man’s abdomen, chest, arms, and legs. Even his face. But as Dallas surveyed the bloody damage, she noticed something odd about the body.

“The heart’s not missing,” Dallas whispered to Dean as they approached an officer, or at least there wasn’t a heart-shaped hole in the man’s chest, she thought to herself.

Dean nodded discreetly before flashing a fake badge at the man who’d approached them, a lanky, blonde-haired officer whose uniform looked like it belonged to someone a few inches shorter than him.

“Officer Stark,” the man said with recognition to Dean. What he lacked in the ability to find proper fitting clothes he made up for with a smile and charm. He firmly shook Dean’s hand. “It’s good to finally put a face to the name.”

Dean gave the man a friendly smile. “Same here, Johnson. And this is my associate, officer Rogers.” Dean signaled to Dallas. “Sorry I didn’t mention her before.”

Dallas shook the man’s hand, then, thinking quickly because she didn’t have a fake badge like Dean, her hand went to her pockets, pretending to look for her identification.

She groaned, rolling her eyes. “Damn, Stark, did I leave my badge back at the motel again?” Dallas whined.

Dean sighed and shook his head with feigned embarrassment, playing along. “You’d forget your own head if it wasn’t attached.”

“Oh shut the hell up,” Dallas teased. She looked at Johnson, hoping he was as friendly as his smile. “I can run back and grab it real quick-“

“No, no,” he said, confirming her hopes. “You’re with him, it’s fine. Besides, y’all might not want to waste any time checking this out.”

Dallas gave the officer a big smile. “Thanks, I appreciate it. So what happened?”

“I was hoping your partner here could shed some light on that,” he said, “We’re confused as hell. Especially after what our witness has told us.”

“Witness?” Dean asked.

The officer turned around and pointed to the opposite edge of the crime scene.

Dallas hadn’t noticed her before–the child standing with her mom and a female officer, facing away from the gore and death.

Johnson turned to face Dean again. “My officers say the child saw a man. Just a man. We can’t get much else out of her.”

Dallas continued watching the child, the way her head hung down, the way she leaned into her mother, trying to get further away from what she’d seen by melding into her caregiver. The behavior was, simultaneously, painfully familiar and strange to Dallas.

“You mind if I try to talk to her?” Dallas asked. Dean didn’t protest.

“Go ahead,” Johnson replied.

The officer called to his partner and waved her away from the interview. She looked almost relieved to have a break from trying to get through to the kid. As Dallas made her way over to the child and her parent, Dean began walking around the roped-off murder scene, conversing with Johnson about evidence they’d found.

Dallas introduced herself to the mom first, dark-haired like her daughter and with freckles dotting across her concerned features. Then Dallas crouched, getting at eye level with the child who couldn’t be more than five years old. There were wet teardrops staining her yellow t-shirt.

“Hey there,” she said softly. “My name’s Dallas. What’s yours?”

“Are you a policeman?” the girl asked, looking up with chocolate-brown eyes to match her hair and a dusting of freckles like her mother.

“Sort of,” Dallas answered. “I’m here to help the police.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” The kid clung to her mother further, gripping the woman’s denim jeans with her small, dirty hands. She must have been playing outside when the attack happened.

The mother comforted her child, stroking the top of her head and her shoulder. Dallas’ throat tightened. She cleared her throat, getting rid of the uncomfortable sensation.

“You know,” Dallas started, taking in the girl’s trembling figure, “I know what it’s like to be really, really scared. It’s ok to not want to talk about it. Because it makes it feel like the bad guys’ really here again. Is that what it feels like?”

The girl looked wide-eyed at Dallas and nodded shyly, sniffling subsiding.

Dallas continued. “You don’t have to tell me anything, but it’s real important that you know the bad guy is gone. He’s not here anymore and he can’t hear you. And he won’t be here when you go home. I’m going to catch him so he can’t hurt you.”

“But what if he does come back?” the girl said softly, tears forming in her eyes again. “What if he breaks my door and comes into my room and my mommy doesn’t hear and he gets me?”

“Did he look strong enough to break a door down?”

The girl nodded. “He was really really strong.” She looked down at the ground, then whispered. “He had claws but nobody believes me.”

“I do,” Dallas stated. “You know, my… friend and I,” she pointed to Dean, who was talking with some officers, “We are really good at catching guys like this. It’s our job. So, I’m going to tell you a special secret.”

The girl’s eyes widened again and she loosened her grip on her mother’s clothes slightly. She held her attention to Dallas’ kind but firm face.

“Does your mommy have any silver jewelry?” Dallas asked.

The girl looked at her mom and her mom nodded despite looking confused.

“Ok, good,” Dallas continued. “All you have to do to keep a man with claws away is wear mommy’s jewelry. Just a necklace. Or a bracelet. They hate silver.”

“Really?” the girl gasped.

“I swear it.” Dallas put her hand over her heart. What she had told the girl wasn’t a complete lie. Silver did affect werewolves, but a piece of jewelry would do nothing to stop one. But the child didn’t need to know how to kill the creature. She needed to believe she could protect herself so she’d feel safe enough to sleep tonight.

“Ok,” the girl said, her voice strengthening. She loosened the grip on her mother even further. “That’s good because he lives behind us.”

“What?” The mom grabbed her child’s shoulder.

“I see him when I play sometimes. He talks on the phone a lot.”

Dallas looked up at the child’s mom to give her a reassuring look, then focused back on the little girl. “Thank you for telling me that,” she said to the kid again. “That’s really, really helpful.”

Dallas stood and turned to the mother. “We’ll take care of this, ok? Do you have somewhere you can stay if you don’t feel safe?”

The mother nodded. “My sister’s.”

“Ok, good. Maybe stay there a couple nights. Be sure to give the department a call if you need anything.”

The woman nodded before ushering her child back to their yard. Dallas watched as the pair entered their home from the back door. Once they were fully inside, Dallas turned back towards the scene and came face to face with Dean. He wore a soft expression on his face.

“I heard the way you talked to the kid. You’re a natural,” he said.

Dallas straightened her posture and crossed her arms. “It’s part of the job,” she said coolly.

Dean watched her for a second, lips parted with the beginnings of a response, but he decided not to say whatever was on his mind and thankfully changed the subject. “So, did I hear the kid correctly? The guy lives on this street?”

Dallas nodded. “Yep. Right there.”

She pointed to a yellow-paneled house, a residence that sat directly beside the victim’s, and watched as Dean’s face became sharply focused. “We’ll pay him a visit tonight.”

#the boyking #boyking!sam #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x oc

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holylulusworld · 3 years

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Play Pretend

Title: Play Pretend

Summary: Sam betrays you in more than one way. Years later you meet again. Can he win you over again or will you never forgive him for breaking your heart?

Squares filled for: @spnquotebingo

Quote: ("I wake up in the morning and I feel like I'm missing something. I know that there's something not right, and it takes me a while to remember what it is... then I remember. My best friend is gone. My only friend. It was silly of me to rely so much on one person." - Love, Rosie)

Word Count:

Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!Reader, implied Sam x Ruby

Characters: Dean Winchester

Rating: Mature

Warnings: angst, language, cheating, sadness, break-up, mentions of blood junkie Sam, hurt & comfort, fluff, meeting again, second chances???

A/N: Set in Season 4/later on Season 10

Divider by @firefly-graphics

SPN Quote Bingo masterlist

The night before your world exploded…

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean pokes his head into your room, or rather the room you share with your boyfriend of four years, Sam. The love of your life. “Sammy is still at the bar and tries to find out if there is anything the victims got in common.”

“Dean, I love you like a brother,” you whisper, not even lifting your head to meet his eyes in the dim light of your bedroom, “but please stop lying for Sam.”

“I did not lie, Y/N,” mumbling the words Dean steps closer into the room, eyes glued to the wrapped gift on the nightstand. “A gift?”

“He forgot our anniversary, Dean. I know he's with her, that demonic bitch again. I can see her red lipstick on his shirt and smell her cheap perfume and the sulfur. I tried to make Sam see she’s not what he wants or needs but-“

Your voice cracks and you wipe your eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” Dean sits on the bed next to you, eyes glued to the gift on the nightstand. “Sammy, he changed since I’m back, or maybe it was while I was gone.”

“The moment you were gone he stopped being my Sam and became a shadow of the man I fell in love with. I let him stray, even leave me for weeks as he lost you but now – you are back, and he still leaves me.”

“Maybe you should talk to Sam, Y/N,” you turn around, shaking your head lightly. “What do you want to do?” Dean asks, already knowing the answer. “I will miss you, Y/N. You’re the annoying little sister I never had.”

“I will miss you too, Dean,” choking out a sob you close your eyes. “You know that you can always call me. Just give me some time to calm.”

Just like any other night for months you lie on the edge of the bed, ignoring Sam sneaks into your shared bedroom.

You can smell her on him, and if the moonless night would offer more than dim light you could see the lipstick on his neck and the scratch-marks on his back.

Sam hides his infidelity poorly lately. Hickeys. Lipstick. Her scent on him. He seems to want to rub it in your face that he’s no longer interested in you.

His hands, the ones which once felt so warm are cold when he touches you now. Not sexually, of course. Sam didn’t even look at you for months. Not that you wanted him to touch you.

You pretend you are asleep when Sam settles on the bed next to you. He sighs, mumbling your name when his eyes land on the gift on his nightstand.

“I forgot our anniversary, babe,” he whispers, rolling to his side to look at the back of your head. You can feel his hand gently run over your arm, but you don’t move, not wanting to break things up with him tonight. “Gonna make it up to you after we killed Lilith.”

Tonight, you will let your hatred burn all the love your felt for him out of your heart. Tonight, you will play pretend and ignore the pieces of your heart on the floor when he kisses your neck softly.

Tomorrow you will get back up and leave the love of your life for good.

The next night you are gone. You don’t lie in a cold bed, waiting for the love of your life to pretend he still loves you. And you don’t pretend to not see the love in his eyes is long gone…

“Gone?” looking around your shared bedroom Sam balls his hands into fists. “How can Y/N be gone? She was with you the whole time.”

“You mean the time you spend with your favorite demon, the one you love to fuck?” Dean spats, stepping toward the nightstand. “She even bought you a gift even though she knew you fuck that corpse. I think I’ll take a few days off.”

“Do you want to leave me too? Just like the useless girl I dragged around for years?” Sam spats.

“Sammy, I love you but right now, I don’t recognize my brother anymore. No wonder Y/N left and didn’t look back…”

Around six years later, St. Cloud, Minnesota

“I’m telling you, Sammy,” Dean smirks, jerking his head toward the bags with food on the table at their shared motel room, “this is the best burger in town. The owner makes the pickles, Sam. You should learn to enjoy the little things.”

Sam makes a face, not in the mood to talk about food with his brother. “If you say so,” he shrugs, glancing at his phone. “You know, we could just sit this one case out.”

“I’m fine,” Dean grumbles, thumb running over the mark on his arm. “It’s calmer today. Just let me enjoy my food, drink some beer and forget about anything else.”

“Rowena said she’s close to finding a spell to break the bond. Charlie and Castiel help her stay focused on helping you and not rule the world,” laughing Dean looks at his brother, shaking his head.

“You need to get laid, Sammy. Find a girl and stop worrying about me.”

“I’m not in the mood,” Sam tuts, looking at Dean’s greasy food. “I just-“

“I know, I know,” rolling his eyes the elder brother takes a large bite of his burger. “You can’t focus on a sweet girl while your brother runs around with the Mark of Cain.”

“Exactly.”

“That’s bullshit, Sam. Go to that bar we passed on our way here. Hit on the bartender or whoever floats your boat. Get laid,” adamant Dean hands Sam a condom. “Don’t come back before you got laid.”

“DEAN!”

“SAM!”

“FINE!”

“What can I get you?” the bartender asks, giving Sam a sweet smile. The kind of smile she spares for men like Sam who rarely stumble into her bar. “Beer, Whiskey, or something sweeter?”

“Beer is fine,” Sam looks around the almost empty bar, hating Dean made him leave. “Maybe some peanuts too.”

“I wouldn’t eat the peanuts,” watching someone sit next to him Sam eyes you warily. “It only makes you thirstier for their cheap beer,” you whip your head to meet Sam’s gaze. “It’s awful by the way.”

“Y/N,” choking your name out Sam lets his eyes wander to comfirm it’s really you. He looks at the tiny tattoo on your neck, a tiny butterfly. The one you got while Sam held your hand tightly.

Your hair is a little longer, and your face shows your journey since he last saw you. But it is you. Undoubtable.

“Winchester,” you tap your glass, glaring at the bartender who ignores you to shove a piece of paper with her phone number toward Sam. “You look good. Heard you killed that bitch.”

“That was six years ago, Y/N,” Sam moves closer, places his large hands onto the dirty bar counter. “H-How have you been? Do you still hunt?”

“Never got out of business,” you shrug, eyes glued to your glass now. “Heard you got out of business some time ago. Seems like you’re back to business to me. Wasn’t your style?”

“Dean came back,” mumbling Sam looks at you, feeling his heartbeat quicken when you nod silently. “Guess she wasn’t the one.”

“No one seems to be ‘the one’ to you, Sammy,” it’s a low blow but you deliver it with a smirk. “That you cheated on me was the best thing happening to me. I finally had the time to train more and focus on the one thing I’m good at. Killing.”

“You’re not a killer, Y/N,” you scoff at Sam’s words, not wanting him to believe you are still the broken girl he betrayed years ago. “I wasn’t me back then, Y/N. Ruby, she fed me demon blood. I wanted to become more powerful to defeat Lilith.” he sits next to you, hand reaching out for his beer to hold onto something to calm his nerves. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix what you have broken, Sam. I trusted you. Dean and Bobby trusted you. None of us was good enough to you. It wasn’t Ruby pushing me away, it was you,” you down your drink, slamming the glass onto the counter. “Go ahead and fuck the bartender, Sam. She almost drools all over you.”

He watches you toss a few bucks onto the counter before you turn to leave. Sam can’t let you go, he just can’t, so he does the only thing coming to his mind – he grasps for your arms to slam you against the nearby wall, his lips silencing you.

“Sam, let me go,” you pant. God, you hate he looks even better in the dim light of the dingy bar. The years have been kind to Sam. Even though you see the pain and loss he endured in his eyes and the fine lines around his eyes, he’s still the most attractive man you ever met.

“Please, let us talk, Y/N. I know you’ll not believe me, but I never forget about you. And I never forgave myself for hurting you deeply,” he whispers, lips pressing against your temple.

“I can’t talk to you, Sam. Do you know how I felt? Do you?” you cry, tears on your cheeks. “In the first weeks I-I felt like-“ you choke out a sob, shaking your head when Sam tells you he’s sorry again.

“Y/N,” he whispers, voice deeper than you remember. You missed Sam grew out of his insecurities and became a man. He’s no longer the boy he used to be when you still were a thing. “Give me the chance to talk to you, please. Dean, he would be happy to see you too.”

“Back then all I could do was to leave and still, you affect me. I wake up in the morning and I feel like I'm missing something. I know that there's something not right, and it takes me a while to remember what it is... then I remember. My best friend is gone. My only friend. It was silly of me to rely so much on one person." you sniff.

“Oh, Y/N,” you hate his eyes soften and you know it’s only a matter of time Sam will try to bring you into his arms. “I should’ve never let you go. You were my best friend, the only woman I loved after I lost Jess. Please, believe me, I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You were not only my lover but my family too. Do you know how lonely I was? I had no one left, no one,” crying you let Sam bring you in his arms. The pain and hurting hit you out of nowhere when you feel his warm chest press against your face. “How could you cheat on me with that corpse?”

“’m so sorry, baby girl. So sorry,” Sam curses. He thought about you now and then, never forgot about you over all those years. He believed you got over him and found love in someone else’s arms. It pained him to think about you; but seeing you like this, facing the consequences of his failure shatters his heart. “Please, let me take you to my home, show you a place where you can feel safe.”

“I never was safe, Sam. Not without you by my side. I-I got broken, beaten, and ripped apart more than once. Do you see the girl from back then in me? I don’t. She’s gone and I don’t know if I’ll ever find her again.”

“Y/N,“ Sam whispers your name, kissing your hair softly. “I found you again. Now let me help you find yourself…”

Tags in reblog.

#play pretend #spnquotebingo #Sam Winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #angst #tw: cheating #sam x reader #sam x you

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mxvladdy · 3 years

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True Form- Belphegor

*collapses dramatically* Oh Gods its done! Sorry for the break! I hope my edits are good!

More to come in this series soon :)

Hope y’all enjoy!

True Form- Belphegor

Keeping a defined for is hard. Too hard for him anyway.

His true form is inconspicuous. He just naturally doesn’t take up much space in the physical realm. He likes it this way though.

An overlooked predator is a dangerous one.

If he is ever seen in this form it looks like a thin film. He drapes over everything, like dust in an unopened room, or the cling of fresh dew in the morning in the rose garden.

He never uses it when awake. His human form is more palatable and functional in all honesty. Don’t get me wrong though, he doesn’t hate it. It used to be really useful when he wanted to nap and Lucifer was on the prowl. But, such good things can only last for so long. Now Lucifer can sniff him out from a mile away incorporeal or no after centuries of practice.

His real form is best implemented in the minds of his slumbering victims. He can cultivate himself there, using his form to feel out the needs and desires of his unsuspecting host.

He is a manipulator, tried and true. His cunning and wile gets him pacts more than a promise of power or wealth.

Belphegor draws them in with promises of grandeur and unexplored inventions. Limitless discoveries all at the very tips of their fingers, if only they take one more step further. One more little slip deeper into the abyss. Then they can stay sleeping forever with him.

Even as an angel he was known as a dreamer. More often then not he could be found in the inner sanctums sleeping with Beel and Lilith during lessons or being carried around by Lucifer. Back then he always had pleasant dreams or innovative ideas that the other angels made use of. The little inventor.

Now that he has fallen, nightmares come to him more often than not, uncontrollable flashes of The War, his sister’s death, and the pain of betrayal. Perhaps that was his punishment, always drowsy with no control over when he sleeps, with nothing but nightmares to accompany him.

When he has control over himself in his slumber he likes to flit around into other’s dreams. Most of the time he goes to Beel’s as they are very pleasant and help distract him from the night terrors he had just escaped from.

Sometimes when bored or pissy he jumps to Lucifer’s dreams. It’s a rare occurrence when they are asleep at the same time, but he takes absolute delight in fucking with his oldest brother’s dreams or looking for secrets to lord over him.

He doesn’t come into your dreams uninvited though. Not after you freed him. You have given him permission to. But he uses it sparingly. When he needs a break from his own head he might control when you are tired. Just so he can have some time out of his head.

He is very controlling in that retrospect. He will form the shape of your dreams at first. But, you ween him out of it. Now he trains you to lucid dream. He lets you shape your reality around you both. You don’t know it, but he is allowing you to shape him as well.

Mini Fic

He watches you from a distance. The grassy knoll you built was bright and airy. Pink and purple flowers sway in the light breeze you created, winking at him as they move. The large willow draping over you pulls a happy little hum from your chest. The swinging branches tickling your sun kissed cheeks. You lounge sprawled out on the ground staring up at the false sun with the largest grin on your face. The rays of sunshine illuminate your prone form, casting stark shadows in its wake. They travel down the hill searching and coiling for shelter from the strong lighting. They find him, latching on to his bare feet and merge with his own disjointed outline. How apropos.

"You can come up here Belphie. Promise I won't bite." You call out into the sky. Your eyes were still closed, but you tilt your head in his direction none the less. The smile you throw down at him is more blinding than the sun you dreamt up.

“I don’t want to intrude.” He steps out from the tree line blinking owlishly. Being welcomed in a dream had been unheard of before you. The mindscape was an intimate and private space. He was meant to be an invader, a taint. Before this he had been nothing but a rogue clinging to the edges. A whisper of temptation carried on the wind, or the hollow thud of a heel echoing down an empty street. It’s different here, with you. You expected to see him or sense him in whatever form he chooses. It was-nice.

“You're never an intrusion.” Your raw honesty floors him still, even after all this time together. “Had a rough night?” You ask patting the space beside you.

“Something like that.” He murmurs dropping down next to you. He is distracted momentarily by the heat radiating off your body. “You’ve been practicing.” You beam, proud that he noticed so quickly. His lessons on dream walking and lucid dreaming were hard, but looks like they were finally paying off.

It had been difficult at first, keeping a solid detailed form while knowing you were asleep. Then trying to stay asleep while doing it. You had to fight against the instinct to wake up constantly. It was like somewhere deep inside your psyche was trying to protect you, like it knew what happened when a human ventures too far into this place. Almost like it knew that a cunning little demon was lurking somewhere down here.

“How’d you guess?” You ask rolling onto your side. He answers by reaching out to you and dragging a soft finger down your bare arm. You shiver at the cool touch, little goosebumps awakening under his touch. Your picturesque scene wavers at the corners from his touch. The caress breaking your concentration for a moment. Belphegor smirks. “I’m still working on it!” You blush.

“I don’t mind, as long as I’m the only one that that can shake you so.” He pulls away to summon a large pillow for himself. You watch him try to get comfortable. He punches and rolls around the poof for a moment trying to get comfortable. You could tell something was troubling him. The energy in his gaze was borderline manic. His usually relaxed stature was strung taut, right on the border of snapping. He would murder you again if you said it; but he looked so much like Lucifer right now. Tight, cold, and rigid. A clear signal of distress.

“You want to take the helm?” You wave around the small scene offering him a distraction. He could expand the scene far further than you could, probably ever could. “Or do you want to let your hair down?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him. You smile at his little snort, that human saying always got him to laugh.

“Sure you don’t mind?” You shake your head and sit up. Truth be told, you liked his weird demon form. You could never entirely place where he was when he was in it, but you just knew he was there and close. It was reassuring.

He breathes a sigh of relief before flopping backward. He disappears on impact with the soft ground. The grass and flowers coming up to engulf him as he takes over. He flows around you into every corner of your mind, stretching himself to the furthest corners of your dream. He weaves himself in your fantasy. You get swept up in it for a moment. The raw force of him pulling at your center. It is suffocating for a moment, the oppressive weight of his magic. It brings out a bone-deep weariness in you without meaning to. You feel the growing need to just rest. Just a moment.

“Back with me?” You open your eyes. When had you closed them?

“Ye, sorry.” You lean up onto your elbow and shake your head to clear the fog that still clung to it. It was always a head rush when he did that. Blinking the rest of his magic away you take in your now joint dream. The sun was gone, replaced with twin moons and awash with multicolored stars. His sky bled colors, dripping purples and blues onto the green grass around the edges of your vision. The more you focus the more the field grows and stretches. Off in the distances, tiny tents emerge, sprouting up like shoots from the blackness. “Really?” You eye the tents with a wry smile. If you strained your ear you could hear faint carnival music.

A low rumble bounces around you. “You suddenly have an issue with the circus?”

“Absolutely not!” You raise, calling out into the vastness around you. “You better make a carousel!” You could feel him chuckle around you as you began your trek down the hill.

Belphegor is quiet while you navigate the forest. He’s whole being hyper focused on building the world around your quick steps. His was divided and working overtime in an attempt to distract himself. Part of him was busy building the carnival, another working on making sure you don’t stir from your slumber, and the other awake and aware. He hasn’t done this in a while, splitting his consciousness so thin like this. His human body lumbering along in the physical world while his mind was busy in the subconscious one. Hopefully, none of his brothers were awake and would try to intervene. He wanted to be close to you, in both body and mind tonight. You reach the edge of the woods and he turns his full attention back to you.

He had gone all out for you. Bright lights and the echoing laughter of imaginary guests assault your senses. You could even taste buttered popcorn and caramel on the tip of your tongue. A warm hand takes yours causing you to jump. Belphie gives you an apologetic grin for startling you before dragging you off into the park without a word. Who knows how long the two of you spent. Time, as you understood it, worked differently here. Faster or slower you had no idea. But, right now you didn’t care. He needs you here in the present.

“So-” You start hesitantly much later in the evening. You lick at some cotton candy that had gotten stuck on your fingers. “Want to talk about it?” Belphegor shoots you a look from where he perched. His feet dangling from a study steel fence. He watches you ride the slow-moving carousel as it goes round and round in lazy circles. He mulls over what to say as you make a rotation.

“I dreamt of Lilith again.” He admits. He comes to sit on the metal animal beside you, disappearing and reappearing in a puff of smoke at your side.

“I’m sorry.”

“Ye. Me too.” He pats the kelpie he sits on. Its listless eyes bore into his. His old nightmares reflecting in their ruby gaze. He wanted to be over this. Why wasn’t he over this? The longer he stares into the horses dead eyes the more his nightmares creep back onto him.The dream shifts around you. The air dropping in temperature drastically. The merry background noises choked off and replace with a buzzing that made your head hurt. The sound of metal striking metal and shouts start to grow at the base of your neck.

“Belphie-” You reach out for him, cupping his face. He doesn’t notice you anymore. His mind going somewhere you shouldn’t venture. His expression turns stormy, closing off to you completely. Fear begins to build up inside of you. Something uncontrollable riding in on the fast building winds. The night sky he built changes. Stars blinking out one after another like blown bulbs. The moons swelling in size, crashing into each other as your dream begins to crumble. “Shit.” You had to wake up, and fast.

You awake with a start back in your bed. Eyes snapping open while your body lays motionless. An odd sensation of sleep paralysis locking your joints. Something radiates behind you, a lanky body drawn close to yours. Sweet breath tickles the nape of your neck. Fighting the paralysis that held you, you turn to greet your bed guest.

Belphie’s half-lidded eyes seem to look through you. His body was icy, a ghostly vapor wafted over of his pale skin. You tried to wake him but your tongue was stuck. All you could do was stare wide-eyed as he dreamt. He comes back to you slowly. His eyes twitch and roll sporadically until he blinks, drawing in a ragged breath as he comes to. His skin warms with each passing tick of your alarm clock. As your drowsy demon stirs the stiffness in your body begins to ebbs. His chokehold on your mind weakening. After what seemed like an eternity he awakens. He takes you in for a moment and then he’s on you, lurches forward to drag your pliant body to his. “Scared me for a second there Belphie.” You mutter into his soft hair.

He sighs, breathing in your scent and focusing on your strong pulse. It had been a while since he had lost control of himself like that. Building up a world was easy. Tearing it down was even easier. The thread that kept people under was thin, like a single strand of silk. To lose himself to a nightmare in another being’s head? It was unheard of. It terrified him. “Did I hurt you?” He rasps.

“No,” You reassure him, pressing a kiss to his sweaty brow. “I woke up in time.” He goes quiet again trying to keep his breathing steady. “Hey.” You stroke a few strands of hair from his face. “You’re thinking pretty hard there, can I help?”

Could you help? If he was losing control of his dreamscape again… He would have to tell Lucifer. A shudder runs up his spine at the thought of retraining. No, he was still strong enough to keep it under control “Just keep stroking my hair, please?” He yawns widely, lethargy hitting him hard. He drifts off to the feel of your fingers flowing smoothly through his hair. The lingering fears slip further and further from his mind with each soft caress.

#obey me #obey me fandom #obey me belphegor #obey me fanfic

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awesomerextyphoon · 4 years

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Slit Reflection

This is my entry for @jtargaryen18’s Haunted House 2020 Challenge. Mine was Sam Wilson. Credit for dividers goes to @firefly-graphics. Check them out!

Summary: You’ve always loved Halloween, especially the haunted house at the edge of the woods. So happens when the ‘Star Spangled Trio’ enters the mix?

Pairing: Demon King!Sam Wilson x Black!Reader (Fem)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 3,054

Warning: Kidnapping, Forced Marriage, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Stalking, Breeding Kink, Mentions of Torture, and Non-Con/Dub-Con Smut. You have been warned.

Back to Masterlist

You’ve always loved Halloween. It was your birthday and the haunted house at the edge of the woods gave the best spooks and thrills. It was your first Halloween after undergrad and this year was different.

The Star Spangled Trio were celebrity guests and they were bringing two of the old rooms back!

It took you six days to get a ticket. You tried getting one online, every shop in town, but got nothing.

Finally, a new face at the library took pity on you and gave you the last ticket along with a book on demon folklore. You thanked the new librarian and rushed out of the building. Had you looked back you would’ve noticed a smirk on their face and their sclera and pupils turning black and gold respectively.

Halloween—the day of your birth—was here, and it was shit. Your toothbrush broke, your car refused to start, the job that you desperately wanted was dashed by yet another rejection email, and both your student loan and rent checks bounced. You just need to get through today.

You missed the cutoff, but got in because the person working the line was a family friend. Anxiously, you wait in line wondering how the haunted house in your small ass town managed to nab the Star Spangled Trio when you noticed the excited expressions of the people leaving. Now you’re super anxious.

By the time you entered the haunted house, you’re doing the breathing exercises to calm yourself. This was it! You were finally going to meet your all time heroes (and possible spank bank entries)!

The first few rooms were your typical haunted house fare which you loved, but were secondary to your excitement in seeing your heroes. Maybe you could get an autograph and hug from them!

You were about to follow the person in front of you into the haunted house’s hospital room when you noticed a light flickering to your left. It revealed a door done in the Neo-classical design with some Latin text engraved in the middle (had you studied Latin , you would’ve known that the text read “Reveal yourself, my beloved”).

Opening the door, you saw that it lead to the Hall of Mirrors. This part of the haunted house was always a favorite of yours, but both the itinerary and the ticket worker said that it was closed this year. The hall itself was chillingly quite and pristine as if no one else had stepped foot inside this season.

All of the mirrors looked standard for the haunted house; some of them made you laugh or briefly catch your breath. The one at the end of the hall caught you off-guard. It was at least 12ft (about 3.66m) high with intricate carvings of characters out of dark folklore and a single diagonal slit.

You were about to turn away when you saw nothing thinking it was a small haunted house joke at your expense when the mirror flashed.

In your place was the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen, but it still looked like you..sort of. Your hair was long, luxurious and gently flowing. Your eyebrows, eyelashes, and nails were immaculate. Your nose was adorably broad and your lips were sensually full (the type of full women would shell hundred’s if not thousands of dollars for). You wore a diadem with thick gold chains ladened with diamonds, onyx, and rubies and around your neck was a ruby and onyx amulet. You were dressed in a loose, yet sleeveless form-fitting Vivaldi red gown with hints of fiery red and a thin rosewood colored shoulder veil connected to the dress by a ruby broach in the middle of your cleavage.

You looked about four or five inches taller and the mirror version of you made you feel nervous about your curves being out on display.

Curious, you reached out to touch the mirror. Your hand was less than a centimeter away when your mirrored self opened it eyes. Suddenly, it grew curved horns and its eyes glowed pale gold.

The mirrored version of you grabbed your outstretched arm and dragged you through the mirror all while you screamed hoping someone would come to your rescue, but to no avail.

Samael, or ‘Sam’ was notified of your departure and the trio had to excuse themselves from the festivities to congratulate Sam on finding his bride.

You woke up with a start and shout clawing the air but stopped once you realized that you weren’t falling anymore. Instead, you were in a huge, opulent room filled with treasures that not even Windsor Castle had. Curiosity seemed to have taken hold of you because you walked out onto the connecting balcony to find that you were on a different planet/dimension/realm, whatever!

There were floating landmasses (the smallest of which was the size of your small town) and five planets ranging from Moonbow Gold to Venetian Red in color.

You thought about where the fuck you were and how you could get back home when a voice interrupted your thoughts.

The source of the voice was a demon with Antique Ruby skin with reddish gray undertones and Cinnabar and Rosewood colored hair. She had two short outward curved horns with a gold chain and aquamarine teardrop connecting them. Her eyes were an inviting aqua blue eyes with a dark red sclera.

“Hello! My name is Scheherazade, but you can call me Sherry. I’m your Lady in Waiting. I’ve brought some food.” Sherry offered as she set the tray of food on a small table next to a dresser.

You smiled cautiously at your new elevated handmaiden,”Do you know why I’m-”

“Oh, I almost forgot! We need to get you ready for your presentation!”

The Fuck?!

“What do you mean ‘presentation’?,” you asked as nicely as possible, but reality came out more like a demand.

Sherry stopped her ministrations and faced you,”Well, when the monarch, crown prince, or princess declares their mate, they are presented to the royal court,” she then returned to her task of finding a suitable dress for you not catching the mortified expression on your face.

This day can’t get any worse. Wait?

“What time is it?”

“Oh, yes, It’s pretty much always night here. The sun only comes out for three hours. Would you look at the time! Everyone’s waiting!”

“One last question,” you started as Sherry began dressing you,”Who am I marrying?”

“Why my second cousin, King Samael, one of the Three Demon Kings, of course!”

You fought the impulse to faint.

It took thirty minutes for Sherry to make you look unrecognizable. Thankful for her assistance, you followed the floating torches to the throne room. The throne room was an enormous room with high wide vaulted arches, delicately carved pillars and columns, and a small bridge connecting the ground at the door to the center. The court comprised of beautiful yet fearsome demons of all shapes and sizes.

The king himself was seated on a grand, ornate throne atop a huge dais with at least 25 steps. He seemed familiar.

As soon as you were passed the threshold, the king raised his head and everyone stopped talking and cleared a path for you. Several courtiers whispered as you striddled towards the dais. When you finally reached the dais, the king got off his throne and walked down the steps to greet you.

You almost face-palmed. The king was Sam Wilson! Or at least, looked like him.

Sam for his part was devastatingly handsome. He had a tall, powerful build, broad shoulders, bulging biceps, muscular thighs, short well-kept hair and beard with surprisingly kind eyes.

“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” Sam uttered as he pulled you in for a hug. You could’ve sworn he sniffed your hair, but you didn’t want to go into that right now.

“Everyone!” The court turned to the throne,” Thank you for coming. I have finally found my bride. We will be married tomorrow night!” Sam exclaimed to thunderous cheers and applause. He slipped on a magnificent ruby and diamond engagement ring with a black gold band.

You could not believe this, “I can’t-,” you started, but Sam discreetly grabbed your wrist, “Pre-wedding jitters,” and led you to a side room.

You expected him to hit or yell at you like so many other royals in a similar setting, but instead he gave a sad smile and asked if you were truly happy in your old life. You thought about your crushing debt, little to no job prospects, both parents dead, no friends and you had to admit your life did suck, but he didn’t get to decide.

Disappointed, Sam casted a small compliance spell and pulled you in for a kiss. Your pupils blew out in lust and you lost yourself. When he finally decided to break for air, Sam stated that you will be his bride and he will not be denied any longer. You smiled and gave him a short but passionate kiss. He moaned but had to end it before he went too far.

Tomorrow night he promised himself.

He quickly called for Sherry to return you to your quarters.

Sherry woke you up the next ‘morning’ with a small army of beauty experts and maids.

“Rise and shine, Your Grace! We’ve got a bride to present!” Sherry proclaimed.

Damn it! It wasn’t a nightmare.

They managed to stuff you into a marvel of a wedding dress. It was a Torch Red long-sleeved mermaid wedding dress with soft yet detailed lace work made to look like an enchanted forest, diamond, dark ruby and pearl beads, and a floor length train. On your head was a black gold spiked sunburst goddess with deep ruby roses and a simple ruby teardrop chain that rested on your forehead, the ends of which were wrapped around your horns.

“Not even Lilith could compare, Your Grace!” Sherry gushed at her handiwork.

The wedding procession and ceremony was done in a swift fashion as Sam didn’t want to wait much longer. The vows were short as well. You wanted to object, call for help, anything but a voice in the back of your mind beat you to it.

A couple hours into the wedding festivities, Sam announced that it was time for he and his new queen to retire and led you to his quarters. It’s the fanciest suite you’ve ever seen dripping with luxurious reds, violets, and obsidian.

In all your awing of Sam’s quarters, you failed to notice him approaching you in only a simple loose shirt and trousers. He gently put his hands on your exposed shoulders,”Alone at last, my love.”

You recoiled, “Can’t we wait for a few days? It’s just…” you trailed off as soon as his jovial expression vanished replaced with something darker and hungrier.

“I’ve waited for so long to have you here with me, love,” Sam confessed while you moved towards the exit,”and I will not be denied any longer!”

In an instant, Sam pulled you in for a demanding kiss. He pushed his tongue past your lips moaning when your tongue tepidly danced with his own and from the sweet taste of your mouth. He pushed you onto a bed that had to three times the size of a California King and his lips moved jaw and neck, egged on by needy whimpers and moans.

He took his time ripping off your gown, enjoying the view like a child on Christmas, ”Fuck, you’re so beautiful. Utter perfection,” Sam murmured as he watched your breasts bounced free. He alternated between sucking and pinching your nipples with his hands and mouth,”I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he whispered in your left ear and he continued to play with your breasts like a concert-level musician. All the while moaned and cried out feeling pleasure you never thought possible.

Once satisfied with his handiwork with your chest, Sam’s hands roamed over your stomach and hips followed by strategically placed butterfly kisses that made you squirm. He tore off the last of your wedding gown causing you to hiss at the sudden sensation of cold air touching your pussy.

You used your last bit of willpower to plead, “Please stop! I’ve never-,” Sam stopped and raised his head to look at you.

“I know, love. I’ll be your first and only,” and with that, he gives your folds one long, slow lick and growled at your sweet and tangy taste, “I’ve wondered how you’d taste. You’re even better than the best Kharian wine. I could get used to this.”

He dove back in and played your pussy for all it was worth. His tongue worked its magic stroking and circling your clit sending you higher and higher into euphoria. Sam kept you right on the edge of an orgasm, just enough to beg for release.

“Say you’re mine!,” you mewled in response, to blissed out to use words. “Say it or I’ll leave!”

“Please let me cum, My King!” you cried out when he thrusted two fingers into your pussy.

“That’s a good girl. Now,”Sam started as he vigorously rubbed your pussy,”cum for me, love.”

Your orgasm came like a tsunami and Sam made sure finish his feast.

You got out of your post-oral haze to see Sam looming over in all his naked glory. His body must’ve been made by the gods because it was divine. His frame was an ode to sexiness wrapped in sinful warm sepia skin.

Sam caught you biting your lower lip and cocked his head, “Like what you see?”

Damn that cocky bastard, but damn if he wasn’t right. Part of you wanted to fuck his brains out…and that was before you saw his cock. Standing proud and erect with angry veins, his cock had to be the biggest you’ve ever seen (not like you had much exposure, just a few pornos).

Sam crawled up to you, lifted your chin and gave a soft kiss on the lips sensing your unease, “Relax, love,” He then lined his cock to your entrance and slid in as gently as he could.

You hissed from the pain, he was just so damn big. Sam praised you on how well you fit around him like ‘you were made for him’. Once the pain subsided, you bucked your hips into his causing him to moan at the sensation. He smiled at your eagerness and picked up the pace, making his thrusts come out to just the tip was in you and slamming back into you. You cried out his name each time he filled you to the hilt, pleading with him to go faster. Soon he reached your G-Spot causing to orgasm again, this time with you crossing your eyes and coming with a squirt.

Not too long after your second orgasm, Sam came with an otherworldly roar and glowing bright gold eyes shooting rope after rope of thick cum into your womb. He then flipped you onto your stomach and forced you onto your hands and knees so that he could take you from behind.

He got ten orgasms from you, each one more mind-blowing than the last. Once he was satisfied, he let you sleep.

“Soon you will be round with my seed, and we will have many children. I can’t wait.”

Ah hour after you closed your eyes, Sam left his, now yours, quarters. “Make sure she doesn’t leave,” he orders the guards although, he’s confident that she’s not going anywhere with the way he hammered her.

He strode down the corridors until he reached the dungeon. There, he found a rather nice looking apartment-style cell with only one prisoner, your mother.

“I’ve taken your daughter. Do you want to see her before you go?”

You see, Samael, Mikael (Bucky), and Stelios (Steve) were demon warlords who began conquering kingdoms left and right 1200yrs ago. They fought their way to the last free kingdom, Kharan. By the time your grandparents were brought before them, they had killed your uncle, the heir to the throne. The king and queen begged for their lives and the kingdom to be spared.

The trio agreed on one condition: if the next child the queen bears is a girl, then she would be Sam’s mate (Mikael and Stelios already had mates).

The king reluctantly agreed. The queen gave birth four months later to a girl, but she was in demon form. The queen had two of her most trusted attendants spirit the child away to another realm and raised her as their own.

Sam had your grandparents slaughtered and razed Kharan to the ground for their trickery. No matter, he was immortal. He would bide his time.

Eventually, your mother was told about her true parentage and form. She learned to control her powers, found love and she too was with child.

Sam found her a week before she went into labor and said that it was time to collect. She promised you in her stead immediately in hopes that it would buy her some time.

It did. She was able to pass you, a cambion, off to a friend of hers who wanted a child but couldn’t conceive and gave Sam a fake baby. He had your mother thrown into the dungeons.

Sam searched for you, but discovered that your mother put a cloaking spell on you. So, he approached your mother with a deal: her freedom for you becoming his mate.

It took your mother three years of torture for her to say yes.

Once the spell was lifted, Sam went to work. He made sure your adopted parents had a little ‘accident’ when you were old enough to take care of yourself, made sure that no one would want to hire you, and saddled you with debt. He even got Mikael and Stelios to pose as ‘The Star Spangled Trio’ with him to finally get you to the Hall of Mirrors.

Your mother bowed her head in shame, “No. It’s best for her to believe that I don’t exist.”

Sam unlocked the cell door with a simple spell, “You’re free to go. Have a nice life,” and returned to his quarters to be with his mate and queen.

Your mother took one last look at the palace,”I’m sorry, my little moon and stars,” and disappeared into the night.

Taglist: @jtargaryen18 @threeminutesoflife @giorno-plays-piano @lookiamtrying @sherrybaby14 @opheliadawnwalker3 @life-of-yn @mcudarklibrary @marvelfansworld @imdarkinme @sapphirescrolls @samingtonwilson @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @pseudonymphet @dahkness @saiyanprincessswanie @golden-ariess @chixkencxrry @anyatheladyclown @stargazingfangirl18 @saint-bvcky @cherienymphe @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @cockslut-padalecki

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violetmuses · 3 years

Text

Views || Chapter 4

Dedications: @stylesthesunflower @lilith-blackrose @ocfairygodmother

2023

James "Bucky" Barnes

We had finally landed in Germany.

“I’m going in alone.” Sighing, I faced Sam as we stood together in the one corridor that separated us from Zemo’s prison cell.

“Why?” Sam asked me, hoping to feel included here.

“Sam, you're an Avenger and you know exactly how he feels about that.” I made my case, knowing that Sam and our friends would be a rough talking point for Zemo.

“Look, it's not like you two were known for frolickin' in the sun together.” Sam mumbled through another response and knew that Zemo and I definitely weren't best friends.

“He was obsessed with HYDRA and we still have a history together. Trust me. I got it.” Mentioning Zemo again, I noted to Sam that trauma was quite an understatement for me looking back.

“Fine. Just promise to be careful, man.” out of respect, Sam made one last point.

“Thanks. I’ll be careful.” I headed down that corridor and loomed myself into proverbial hell.

_____

‘Желание, Расти, Семнадцать.”

“Longing, Rusted, Seventeen.”

Just before rising towards the light of his prison cell, Zemo dared to speak Russian once more and bait me. Yet, he failed miserably here as we faced each other across the glass divider.

“Those days are over.” I affirmed this truth without smiling and knew damn well that the Wakandans had worked their asses off to help me. I could wake up every day and make my own choices. At last.

“I know, but I just wanted to see how the new you would react to the old words.” Zemo then whispered, moving his head towards the left side for a moment.

“Keep trying. You’ll fail every time.” I defended myself.

“Although, I do believe that something is still in there.” Zemo lurked his footsteps closer to the glass divider.

“Wrong.” I clipped my answer again, quietly fed up with him. Yet, we still needed his “assistance” if I could call his input help at all.

“At least you were not conscious for most of your imprisonment.” Zemo gave out his Sokovian rasp, echoing his thoughts through space of the cell here.

“That time wasn’t exactly a picnic for me, either.” I offered more truth. Again, we both knew that my trauma would still linger for years to come.

“For what it's worth, I'm sorry. My choices towards you were never personal. You were simply a means to a necessary end.” Zemo paced while speaking and opened or closed his hands to “apologize.”

“Someone recreated the Super Soldier Serum and we need to find out who’s responsible.” I finally stated our point of the mission. Of course, small talk with Zemo wasn’t on top of my priority list.

“You are assuming that HYDRA has something to do with this. Visiting my prison cell means that you are desperate.” Zemo turned his head to face me once I mentioned The Serum and pointed forwards, acting conceited this time.

“We’ve got bigger problems than a prison visit.” I shook my head, still annoyed by Zemo’s quick replies here.

“Very well. Luckily for you, I know where to begin, James.” Zemo finally agreed to help, which settled my nerves, believe it or not.

______

“What do you mean you wanna break Zemo outta jail? Where the hell are we, Buck? Have you lost your mind?” Sam ranted as we stood together in the back room of quite a darkened space.

"Look, we have no leads, no moves. Nothing." I tried to make another case while speaking to Sam.

“What we have is one of the most dangerous men in the world behind bars.” Sam offered logic behind Zemo’s jail time again.

“We also have eight Super Soldiers that are loose.” I scoffed right back while Sam continued explaining reality about Zemo.

“Bucky, Zemo’s gonna mess with our minds, especially yours. No offense.” Sam tried to reason with me once more.

“Offense. Super Soldiers go against everything he believes in. He is crazy, but he still has a code.” I kept going, trying to let Sam realize what we were up against without our usual friends around.

“I’ve been on the wrong side of that code and so have you, Buck. Zemo blew up the UN. He even killed King T’Chaka and framed you for it. Did you forget that? Do you think the Wakandans forgot about it? It’s a rhetorical question because they actually didn’t!” Sam counted off almost every single reason why Zemo had been locked to begin with.

“I know you mean well, but if someone doesn’t change things, the world could go right back through hell all over again.” I lowered my head.

“I know why this matters to you, but it’s pushing you off the deep end.” Sam gave out more logic, but times were changing in the worst way possible. We truly did need help at this point.

“We don’t know how they’re gettin’ the serum. We don’t even know how many of them there are.” I ranted again about those Flag Smashers, still upset for obvious reasons.

“You and I could definitely figure that shit out, but we don’t need Zemo wrecking havoc all over the world again.” Sam fumed quietly, which I still understood here.

Now or never. I thought to myself.

“Look, let me just walk you through a hypothetical situation. Could I walk you through a hypothetical?” I cleared my throat, now facing Sam once more.

“What did you do?” Sam eyed me over his shoulder and looked towards my face with possibly the greatest death stare.

“I didn’t do anything.” I shrugged across from Sam, playing off the truth of what actually happened a few minutes ago.

“What’s the book you’re reading?” A few minutes back, I had questioned Zemo in the cell.

“Machiavelli.” Zemo turned to pick up this hardcover book, revealing his selection.

“If two prisoners start fighting, then the protocol says four guards have to respond.” Now, I recalled strong points before planning to bring down this so-called hammer.

“Why would two prisoners start randomly fighting at that moment?” Sam narrowed his eyes and showed confusion while listening to me.

“Who knows, Sam? There could be many reasons, but the point is that these things escalate.” Keeping my answer vague, I responded anyway.

“That’s obvious.” Sam mumbled back to me.

“Lockdown procedures would have to be initiated, too. Shit, with all of those bodies flying around left and right, it definitely wouldn’t be hard to slip down the hallways, either.” I kept myself “calm” and still made a point, still aiming to give the reveal.

“Safety protocols do make sense, but the chaos would still allow anyone to sneak out of their cells.” Sam lowered his voice and kept listening at this point.

“If the fire alarms got tripped while the prisoners were being separated, someone could use that chaos to their advantage.” I gave my last point, just when Sam spoke again.

“I don’t like how casual you’re being about this situation. It's unnatural. Where are we, man?” Sam narrowed his eyes again before almost worriedly glancing around the space of our conversation.

It’s time. I thought to myself again.

“Sorry.” I mumbled, almost not letting Sam hear me.

Seconds later, as if planned, other looming steps found behind us echoed against the darkened floor.

“Whoa, what the hell are you doing here?!” Sam bellowed out loud, piercing his outright anger. Across the room, Zemo had walked towards us, currently disguised his escape by wearing this navy blue prison guard uniform.

“I didn’t say anything because I knew you wouldn’t let this happen, okay?” I failed to calm Sam down, despite best efforts.

“What did you do?” Sam yelled back.

“We need him, Sam.” I just tried to reason with my coworker again.

“You’re going back to prison!” Sam shouted, noticing Zemo with frustration through each passing second.

“If I may…” Zemo tried speaking, but we cut him off instantly.

“No!” Sam and I both pointed forward.

“Apologies.” Zemo momentarily faced the ground, mumbling away from our eyes here.

_______

“Not to change the subject man, but are you gonna explain any of this shit to Janelle?” Sam questioned me out of nowhere as we headed into sunlight and moved along this paved tarmac.

“I don’t know.” I eyed Sam behind these sunglasses as we flagged Zemo on either side.

In the distance, away from Zemo’s collection of cars from my past, this private jet loomed outwards, showing carpeted stairs. Even suited employees waited for our arrival.

“Welcome, gentlemen.” Another suited man greeted us and Zemo. There were just seconds before we could board the aircaft and leave Germany behind.

Away from Sam, I tried to send out text messages for Janelle before even Zemo himself asked some of his own inquiries.

Bucky: On a mission. Just wanted to let you know.

Janelle: Stay safe, but when you come back in one piece, bring some popcorn. ;)

Bucky: Deal.

If I played these cards right, there would hopefully be so much more than popcorn in my future.

#buckybarnes #bucky barnes #bucky tag #tfatws spoilers #mcu tfatws #black oc #fanfic #au fanfiction

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wildborn-witch · 3 years

Text

“There are tales spoken in hushed whispers, beyond the ears of the Emperor’s Coven, about a tribe of witches who were bonded to spirits—mystical beings born of wild magic. An ancient race they were, said to have been the first children of the Titan when it fell. Taking the form of beasts, they had the ability to heal and speak to the Isles, calling upon its natural power. These gifts they shared with the witches, who took their name in gratitude, and together, they and their descendants settled near the Heart, wishing to live in harmony with the wilderness and their ancestor.’

“Centuries passed, and eventually their neighbors came to wield magic of their own, sparking a new age of discovery. In this time, the original covens were formed, each following one of nine disciplines, yet they all recognized the ancient tribe as the first masters. On their part, the tribe stayed distant from the others, though anyone willing to learn from them was welcomed among their ranks.’

“Everything changed, however, with the coming of the Savage Ages. Chaos reigned, and conflict and unrest divided the land until a new figure arose: a mysterious witch who called himself Belos. Claiming to be an emissary of the Titan, he vowed to bring unity to the Isles, insisting that unbound magic only brought disorder. One by one, the nine covens bowed to his teachings, but the ancient tribe resisted—they saw him for what he truly was, and would not give up the old ways. Their defiance led to their destruction, as Belos and his coven hunted them all down until, at last, only their chief remained. Accused of high treason, he was sentenced to petrification, frozen in stone as Belos took the title of Emperor over the Boiling Isles.’

“It has been thirty years since the tribe’s extinction, and the spirits have fallen silent, fading into myth and legend. But nothing lasts forever, for a new awakening has begun. The old ways will be found once more, and in time, the Isles will see the return of…’

To those who have followed me already on both this blog and my main account, I want to thank you all so much for your patience and continued interest as this has taken shape. To those who are here for the first time, my name is Drekasál, and I’m proud to announce the official master post and FAQ for the Wildborn AU!

I intend to update this as often as possible as I continue to work on new pieces—both artistic and literary—as well as answer whatever questions that may come up in the future, but for now, I figure the basics would be good to start with, first and foremost being…

What is the Wildborn AU?

The Wildborn AU is my personal contribution to The Owl House fandom, centering around my witchsona Tristan O’Connor who is its main protagonist. Taking place after the events of Season 1, it explores my own take on the history of magic on the Isles by introducing the Wildborn—a tribe of ancient witches bonded to powerful spirits of the same name.

Lore

Originating from days long before the Savage Ages, the Wildborn came into being when the Titan first fell, and hold great power over the Isles’ primordial forces. Reflecting their wild natures, their spiritual forms take on the form of beasts, both mythical and mundane.

In the past, the spirits had a rocky relationship with the early witches, whom had not evolved bile-sacs yet and thus relied on harnessing the wild magic of the Isles through glyphs. At some point in history, however, a young witch from an ancient tribe formed a Bond with the Thunderbird, the first of the spirits and their guardian. After that, the two groups grew closer, with more witches and spirits forming Bonds with each other, eventually becoming the Wildborn tribe. Harnessing the power of their spirits, the Wildborn witches did not need to rely on glyphs, and those pairs who developed strong Bonds could Merge to become a new being, a reflection of the spirit’s beast form combined with the traits of their witch.

Regarded as the first masters of wild magic, the tribe was well-respected for centuries, even as other witches eventually evolved bile-sacs and formed the original covens. Tragically, that came to an end during the Savage Ages, which saw the appearance of Emperor Belos and his enforcement of the coven system. Seeing the Wildborn as untamable and a threat to his teachings, he ordered for their persecution, hunting them down and forbidding any mention of them, until at last it seemed they had been wiped out. But the tales still persist, and the spirits live on, waiting for the day their Guardian will return, and restore balance to the Isles...

Inspiration

This AU draws inspiration from both Wolfwalkers and Brother Bear, both of which are beautifully animated movies, but the latter especially I consider a criminally underrated Disney movie. Wolfwalkers mainly inspired the Hellhounds, the secondary group of characters in the AU, but both movies played a part in developing the Wildborn themselves, particularly their powers and portrayal as animal spirits.

The Characters

Tristan O’Connor - Protagonist in the Wildborn AU. He is a faun witchling enrolled in the Beast Keeping tract at Hexside School of Magic and Demonics. Shy yet kind, he has a deep love of nature and the wild, though it is a passion he has been forced to curb up until now due to the rigidity of the coven system. It is revealed later on that he is Bonded to the spirit Anam, making him the first living Wildborn to exist in thirty years.

Aedh - Deuteragonist in the Wildborn AU. He is a member of the Hellhounds, a pack of wolf-like fire elementals who live hidden beneath the Titan’s skull. Daring and adventurous, he doesn’t have the same bitterness against witches like his elders, having not been born during the time of their persecution, and he welcomes Tristan warmly as a friend. He proves vital in helping the witchling adjust to his Wildborn powers, teaching him how to be a Hellhound when he is Merged with Anam.

Anam - Tritagonist in the Wildborn AU. He is Tristan’s Wildborn spirit, originally being the soul of a Hellhound pup born with “too little fire”. As the AU progresses, it is discovered that he is Aedh’s younger brother and littermate, thus making Tristan, through his Bond with Anam, Aedh’s spiritual brother and and a member of the pack.

Tuft - Supporting character in the Wildborn AU. He is Tristan’s pet griffin, getting his name from his tufted ears uncommon to his kind. A frequent companion of the witchling, he is fiercely loyal and protective, accompanying him on his adventures in the wilderness.

Eleri O’Connor - Supporting character in the Wildborn AU. She is Tristan’s mother and a member of Bard Coven, stated to be well-respected as a master of her craft. She is shown to be a caring and loving parent, though she constantly worries about her son, partly due to her frequent absence in the household, as well as her fear that Tristan might never fit in and suffer for it. Although she is Adar’s daughter, she is not Wildborn herself, having never Bonded with a spirit.

Adar O’Connor/The Thunderbird - Supporting character(s) in the Wildborn AU. Adar O’Connor is Eleri’s father and Tristan’s grandfather, and was the last great chief Bonded to the Thunderbird before the extinction of the Wildborn tribe. When Adar was sentenced to petrification, the Thunderbird permanently Merged with him to save his life, and they act as guides to Tristan and his allies as the AU unfolds.

Arduinna “Rina” Ward - TBA

Arwain the Seeress - TBA

This list will be updated as new characters are developed and added!

Are the main cast of The Owl House involved?

Yes, actually! Their roles are still being developed, but I do intend for Luz to play an important part in this AU, given her rediscovery and usage of glyph magic, and she becomes one of Tristan’s close allies. Eleri herself has had interactions/relationships with Eda and Lilith in the past, when they were attending Hexside together as teenagers.

Is this an open AU? (Can anyone participate/make connections?)

I definitely wish for the Wildborn AU to be as open-ended as possible, as I love making potential connections with the stories/characters of other creators in the fandom. Fair warning, however, that this AU is still in constant development, so things are liable to change! Don’t be afraid to reach out if you have ideas you want to run by me!

Is fanart/fan fiction allowed?

Y E S. Fanworks are 1001% allowed and would honestly make me the happiest person ever ;;V;;

Master List

Eye of the Storm - Lore of the Thunderbird.

No Mercy - Hellhound lore

Reassurance - Aedh welcomes Tristan

Locked or Free - 100+ follower Instagram DTIYS

One Being - Tristan describes the Merge

Dumb Animal - Tristan and Aedh encounter Boscha’s gang at the Knee

Tristan’s Beast Form - Reference sheet

Forces of Nature - Wildborn lore

The Thunderbird - Official model sheet

Adar Concept Art

Hellhound Reference

The Last Wildborn - Official banner

Healing - Gift art/animation for @sobsinfrench

«—•—»

If you have any more questions for me, don’t be afraid to submit an ask, and my inbox is open if you want to reach out to me directly! I also post artwork and occasional updates to my main blog @drekasal, so be sure to follow me there as well! Thank you all so much for reading through this, and have a wonderful day!

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nieladasdenani · 3 years

Text

Thank you, @tv-taught-me-how-to-flail for the prompt:

I could go for some warrior nun angst if you’re up for it (preferably one with a happy ending though) something like it’s the finale battle and Ava tricks the nuns and locks them in a cell cuz she doesn’t want any members of her new found family to get die in the battle, and she says her last goodbyes 😢 Would love of there was some avatrice thrown in there too 😉

So, I’m going to try. I’m not sure if I can write angst, though. I’m also not sure Ava would deliberately plan to lock them and leave them to self-sacrifice. It would be an impulse by fear on the moment. I hope it meets your expectations. You can read it on AO3 if you rather.

-----------------

This is wrong. Nothing is going as Ava thought it would be going. She has been training so hard since the Vatican, she shouldn’t be feeling so defeated already, she shouldn’t be defeated, period. Of course, she wasn’t expecting it to be easy, but this feels like losing. This feels like failing. Like she failed. All she can think about is that she failed and her family is going to die because of it.

She can see Mary, badass Mary, running out of ammo. Sweet Camila panting, scared. Scary Lilith roaring and lashing out. Perfect Beatrice dividing her attention between her own fights and covering Ava’s back. Because she’s frozen in place, Ava is. She promised she was going to be the last Warrior Nun, and she’s going to keep this promise. She’s keeping this promise without letting any of her sisters died. So, she straightens up, looks around. They’ve been cornered inside a sort of closed plaza, surrounded by four walls and the only entrance has been blocked with debris. Adriel is on the other side, Ava sent him flying with a potent burst of the Halo when she saw he had Lilith by the neck.

He told Ava all about how he was going to kill her sisters one by one in front of her. “Starting with the hellhound”, he had said. He’s been whispering about it in her dreams, too. For weeks. Weeks of her waking with screams and panic attacks. Weeks of them talking about those dreams and planing accordingly. And yet, it’s all wrong. But she’s going to fix this. She will not let him kill them. She’s on borrowed time, anyway.

The horde of possessed is almost completely contained, now. But Ava thinks it’s enough to have her sisters occupied while she goes and finishes this. She levitates and uses enough of the Halo to slow the advance of the enemies. She knows she can’t stop them for long, just a moment to tell her final goodbye. They’re all looking at her now, confused, a mixture of frowns that range from bewildered to outraged.

“Ava?” It’s Beatrice, of course. “What’s going on?”

“I... I love you guys. I never thought, even in my wildest dreams, that I would live such an adventure or have a family. And you gave me this.”

“What the fuck are you talking about” Mary’s never been good at feeling out of the loop.

“I promised I was going to be the last Warrior Nun. And I’m going to finish this.”

“Ava, no”

"I’m not gonna let him kill you!”

“Why are you like this? Get your skinny ass down here, so we can contain the possessed and go send your daddy back to hell” Ava scrunches her face at Mary.

“Ew! He’s not my daddy!”

“Are you sure? Because you’re kind of making want to kill you right now”

“Would you both stop? Ava, please. You are not going to go by yourself. That was not the plan.” Beatrice is starting to look pissed.

“That's actually the exact opposite of the plan” Camila says, huffing a little.

“The most important part of the plan is where neither of you die!”

“The most important part of the plan is: trust your team”, ok now she’s officially angry then. But Ava softens.

“I trust my team. But I love my family more.”

“You said you promised to be the last. That doesn’t have to mean you die.”

“Hey, maybe I can beat him by myself.”

“You can, but there’s no need to risk it when you can have back-up. You do not need to do this alone, Ava.”

“He promised he would make me watch him kill you. I won’t allow it, Beatrice!”

“And I promised you that you’d never be alone again!”

Ava can feel her hold on the possessed weakening. So she has to end this. She can feel tears starting to run down her cheeks. She looks at them, one by one.

“I love you.” And she phases through the wall leaving behind a symphony of yells and curses. She takes a moment to compose herself, before going in search for Adriel.

She finds him lying in the ground. If she took a moment she’d see he looks like he can’t even stand up. But she’s blinded by fear. And he can sense this.

“Well, did you finally decide to be a worthy Warrior, then, child?”

“Shut up. I decided I’m going to send you back to hell!” And he has the audacity of laughing.

“Please. We both know how this is going to end. I’m going to rip my Halo from your back, and I’m going to claim my rightful place as master of the world, while you lie there dying slowly and alone.”

“Big talk for a dude who’s not even standing.”

“I could kill you without the use of my limbs!”

“Like the Black Knight?” And he looks so confused, it would be funny. “Monty Python? Oh, wait. You could not know about it... Wait! Was it a real event?”

“Silence! You’ve overstayed your welcome, Warrior Nun. It’s my time now!” In a flash he’s in her space. Her reflex is to swipe her sword at him, which is a testament of the long training sessions with Lilith, and Beatrice and Mary and Camila. They spar for a while. But she’s starting to get worried that her sisters are going to burst out at any moment. And that’s the only opening Adriel needs.

He sweeps her off her feet, and she lays hard on the ground, face first, so he has the chance to press a knee on her back. She’s expecting him to reach a hand, like he did on his tomb, but he’s fumbling for something. And then she feels the cut and heat of divinium on her skin. She barely can avoid screaming.

“It’s over child. Thank you for following my instructions so well. You thought you were helping them? You thought this would spare them? Did you think at all?” She is screaming now, and crying, because it hurts, and she’s alone.

There’s a thunk and thump, and then a very distinctive snort followed by a:

“She never thinks.” And Ava may be delirious because that sounds like Lilith.

“Ava!” And that sounds like Beatrice. And the hand helping her turn and cupping her cheek feels like Beatrice, too. “Ava?” But she doesn’t want to open her eyes, because it will be devastating to realize she’s dying alone on the ground.

“The wound is a little deep, and she’s bleeding a lot. But I can patch it temporarily while we finish here and get to safety.” Her brain is conjuring images of Camila at her back.

Then she’s been lifted of the ground, and now she frowns because, sure, she has a very vivid imagination, product of twelve years of emotional abuse while paralyzed in a bed, but never this vivid. And never as violent as actually feeling someone smack her hard on the back of the head.

“Ow!”

“You stupid, stupid girl. If you think this is all the repercussion you’re going to get for being the dumbest Warrior Nun ever, you’re even more stupid than I’ve just stated.”

“Mary, I don’t believe it’s the time for this.” Even in her dreams Beatrice comes to her defense.

“And I don’t believe hitting her in the head will help make her less stupid.” Ok, so now Ava opens her eyes, because that was definitely Lilith adding insults to the growing pile.

“What?...”

“Oh hey, stupid! Are you done being a drama queen?”

“Mary...” Beatrice sounds tired when she sighs the gunslinger’s name. Then she’s cupping Ava’s face: “Ava? Can you look at me, please?” Of course she does, she always wants to look at Beatrice. “I think she needs a second to recover.”

“Whats’... How...?”

“Did you really think we were going to let you run off like a self-sacrificing martyr?” And wow, ok, Camila has a bite.

“You also forgot I can open portals.” Oh, that’s right. Lilith can open portals, she’s also been training and exploring her new powers. It’s actually one of the ways they’ve bonded a lot.

“But, we were overrun by the possessed”

“Yes, Ava. The plan shifted. But we still had it under control. And if you have stopped to listen to us for a second you would have realized that we were containing the threat of the possessed to then be able to face Adriel together properly.”

“Oh.” Yes, Beatrice is definitely angry at her.

“Yes, oh. Now quit the drama and finish the dude.” There’s what Ava could only describe as an evil laugh coming from Adriel who’s still on the ground, panting.

“You think you children can defeat me? Areala, who was an actual Warrior could only hide me away on a tomb.”

“You said that like she sent you on a cruise, dumbass.” It’s Mary.

“I said that as someone who can escape again, fool.”

“We know we can kill you.” Beatrice.

“And we know we can’t contain you here.” Camila.

“We also know who’s eager to get their hands on you.” Lilith, who then turns to Ava: “Ready?” And yeah. She’s ready to send this demon back to hell. Literally.

“Yeah. Ready” Ava picks her sword with a pained grimace. And before she can take the couple of steps that separate her from Adriel, she feels a strong, delicate hand on her shoulder, so she turns to Beatrice.

“Remember, spend as much Halo energy as possible without depleting it completely. We want it’s signal to be muted, but not enough to put you at risk.” She nods, and proceeds to lift her sword over her head to strike.

“What do you think you’re doing? You can’t kill me!”

“Like they said, we know. But we can hurt you before we gift you away.”

She summons as much as the Halo power as she dares before striking him down. His pained screams fill the open space around them, but she keeps the sword in him until she starts to feel weak. Then she stops, and stumbles back into strong arms that hold her up. That’s when Lilith comes forward and looks at him like he’s a bug she just crushed under her boot and is disgusted to have to clean it up. She lifts her claws, and he flinches, it’s so satisfying to see. But she doesn’t strike as he expects, she opens a huge portal and after a couple of seconds of nothing, they hear a deafening roar, the thunderous approach until the imposing form of the Tarask appears through the portal.

Adriel chokes out a whimpering “No” catching the full attention of the monster, who promptly drags him through the closing portal. Lilith sags into the calm that follows, but Mary is there, ready to assist her.

“All right. You freaks good to go?”

“Mary, I don’t appreciate you calling them that” Breatice is truly a saint.

“Oh, but they love it. Right, Satan?”

“Fuck off.”

“Lilith, language!” But Camila sounds suspiciously like holding back a smile. They bicker the whole way to the van. Beatrice half carrying Ava, and Mary supporting Lilith, leaving Camila to load their weapons inside and start the vehicle.

Mary deposites Lilith in the passenger seat. while she herself takes the cargo section for herself stating that “I’m too old for this shit. Need to stretch my legs.” Leaving Ava and Beatrice in the back seat.

Ava is exhausted and she’s ready to let the darkness take her for a while. But Beatrice is caressing her face and speaking... Oh, right, she should listen.

“Ava? Are you listening?”

“Yeah”

“I know you’re tired, but I need to do quick check, all right?”

“Yeah”

“Good. Tell me what hurts.”

“Everything”

“Right. Tell me what hurts the most, then”

“Uh, my back? My head, too. My face... because I’m so cute.”

There’s a collection of groans from the front and the back, but Beatrice is smiling down at her, and that’s really all that matter.

“We’ll be back home in about two hours, so you can have some rest. But I want you to be properly tended to in the infermary when we arrive. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am!” But the ma’am morphs into a yawn and it looses all the cool, filtry effect she was going for.

“Please, don’t ever do that again.” Beatrice whispers and suddenly the air is heavy inside the van.

“I’m sorry. I just... He had Lilith, right how he said he would. I...”

“You allowed him get inside your head.” Lilith interrupts. “Which was what he wanted. He knew that was his best shot at getting the Halo.”

“That’s why you talked to us about them and we worked on it, remember?” Oh, good. At least Camila is back at being sweet.

“So, we need to work on your panic attacks and traumas, kid. Get ready for that.” And Ava actually whines at Mary’s words, because that doesn’t sound like fun.

“Not right away, though. First we heal and rest.” God, she loves Beatrice.

“And kid?” She didn’t realize she closed her eyes, until Mary calls out to her. So she opens them and twist her neck a little to look at her pearing from the back. “We love you, too. You know that right? You’re our family, too.”

Aw man, she’s all emotional again. She just wanted to be a badass like the rest of them. She feels Beatrice nod, and turns to see Lilith doing the same from the front seat. Camila is smiling at her through the rearview mirror: “It’s true, Ava.” Camila has such a pretty smile. But Beatrice has the prettiest smile. Beatrice has the prettiest everything.

“Rest now.” Beatrice says as she bends to place a tender kiss to Ava’s forehead. But then whispers in her ear: “I think you have the prettiest everything, too.” And she has the sexiest smirk painted on her lips, so Ava can’t seem to be able to respond. Just a flicker of a thought right before exhaustion claims her:

Wait, did I say that out loud?

#Promtp #Warrior Nun #fictlet #Avatrice #found family is the best trope #tv-taught-me-how-to-flail #Ava Silva #Sister Beatrice #Shotgun Mary #Sister Lilith #Sister Camila

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whispers-of-lilith · 5 months

Text

Jujutsu Kaisen Incorrect Quotes Masterlist

Fushiguro Toji

❀ Christmas Present - Toji x f!Reader

❀ I Can't Stand You... - Toji x f!Reader

❀ Rearrange - Toji x f!Reader

❀ Submissive - Toji x gn!Reader

❀ Surprised Pikachu Face - Toji x f!Reader

❀ The Toast - Toji x f!Reader

❀ Valentine's Day - Toji x f!Reader

Geto Suguru

❀ That One Time 10 Years Ago - Suguru & gn!Reader

Gojo Satoru

❀ Doing Something Stupid - Satoru x gn!Reader

❀ Domain Expansion - Satoru x f!Reader

❀ If You Gave Me a Chance... - Satoru x Suguru

❀ Spirit Halloween - Satoru x gn!Reader

❀ Dis Mine Now - Satoru

Ryomen Sukuna

❀ It's Over For You Bitches - Sukuna

Various

❀ If You Wanna Live - Toji, Gojo & Geto

❀ Cursed Technique - Toji, Gojo & Geto

#jujutsu kaisen incorrect quotes masterlist #dividers by whispers-of-lilith #mdni divider by cafekitsune #whispered navigation

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cas-huggybear · 3 years

Text

God’s most beloved

A/N: this is just a random story I wrote. It’s about Lucier and his fall, his time in the cage and his relationship with his family. And why he tortured Sam Winchester.

He was God’s favorite.

He loved him and siblings deeply.

It hadn't been his fault. The mark, his father had given him, it poisoned his mind.

God had acted irresponsible and foolish, putting such a burden on his most beloved child. He should have known that an object of such power would be too much, even for an archangel.

Then God created men.

Of course Lucifer became jealous of mankind because he loved his father more than anything, and he believed so did his father.

But he was wrong.

God showed more concern fore those creatures than him.

He could not comprehend how such weak and foolish beings even deserved to exist.

So he wanted to set humanity free; to show them that there is more than blind obedience and that free will exists. He would free their minds of the illusion his father created, show them how wrong their beloved God was.

So he seduced her, Eve, the woman. Not because she was weaker than Adam, it had been the contrary. He found more pride in seducing the stronger one, to humiliate his father even more.

He laughed when he saw Adam eating the apple out of Eve's hand, greedily biting and chewing, the sweet juices dripping down his chin.

And he laughed when he twisted Lilith's human soul, creating the first of the demons.

But then his family turned against him, coldly banishing him from heaven.

And he should have known the angel's blind devotion to their father wasn't something to be quickly overruled.

But the devotion in those who followed him burned hot and the war that came was terrible.

Heaven was shattered, and the descendants of Adam and Eve were terrified, cowering on earth below every time a deafening rumble from above rang in their fragile ears.

When he remembers the war, which divided heaven forever, all he can see is his brothers and sisters.

Angels, slain. Their wings ripped out on the base, terrible, gaping holes where beautiful, divine feathers should be.

Angels, broken and battered.

And he knew, what burns hot, fades even faster. By the time it wasn't utter love and admiration he saw in their eyes. Instead, he saw doubt and grief, slowly turning to anger and hatred. Towards him.

And in his terrible wrath he smote those who doubted him, smote his own people.

After that there were whispers in his own garrison. Whispers, that he had become insane, driven to madness by having to kill his own siblings.

And if he would have been honest to himself, he secretly knew those voices were right. But he was known for his pride and so he refused to believe so.

Perhaps he was insane, but for a different reason. The Mark. The Mark to seal away his father's sister, the Mark that held too much power for him to bear. He had to lose it. And he found a way. The foolish human Cain, tricked and deceived by the Morningstar now bore the Mark, making it widely known. Making him the first human to commit the most terrible crime: murder. He slaughtered his own brother Abel with the jawbone of a mere cow. Lucifer laughed as he saw the despair in father's eyes as it happened.

But he was afraid, afraid because he knew there was still no going back now.

Then it happened.

His father gave the orders. Lucifer followed out of pride, his beloved brother Michael followed as always out of obedience.

There was a time when he secretly used to be jealous of his brother. What a perfect soldier he was. He knew he could never be like him, and the doubt wormed its way up to his heart. But father's strong, soothing hand on his shoulder and gentle words of assurance had simply made the doubt vanish.

The first thing the oldest archangel had noticed while entering the imposing throne room, was Michael's place, – at father's right. The place where he used to stand, assisting father, deliberating with him.

Tall, proud and in golden armor, sword in his mighty hand, Michael did not look at Lucifer when he entered. His piercing blue gaze was fixated right above his brother's head, not acknowledging him. Lucifer couldn't help but grin at his brother's stubbornness.

A choir of whispers surrounded him, hundreds of angel's bearing witness in the throne room.

There was a time those whispers were full of worship and adoration – adoration for him, the Morningstar. But instead of soft, quiet whispers, words of fondness and devotion, those whispers were now cruel and harsh, piercing like the ice-cold wind of earth below.

Insane... evil... traitor... unholy... MONSTER!

He growled and turned around, facing the brutal voices. How could they. They were his family. How dared they insult him that way. After all he was the first and most powerful archangel, Lucifer Morningstar, the bringer of dawn and (he used to be) God's most beloved.

And who were they? Low, meaningless angels, talking about him like he was insane, when in truth they were the blind, little sheep.

He smiled. Pathetic, he thought, as he looked into their faces, expressions full of terror. He snapped his fingers, a dozen angels disintegrating. The unharmed angels cried out in horror, cowering under his fiery blue stare and he delighted in their fear.

“LUCIFER!”

There he was. His brother finally looked him in the eye. Lucifer grinned at him too.

“You will pay for this.”, Michael's voice sounded, threateningly low, but his older brother was not impressed.

They met in the middle of the white throne room, surrounded by angels and marble-pillars.

It happened fast. Michael raised his sword. The proud, strong archangel Michael, but most of all his dear brother, was fighting him.

They had fought before, before all of it happened. They had fought about every mild inconvenience, driving father and his siblings mad. But back then, there was always some sort of playfulness, even cheer in their eyes. And if he hurt Michael in a serious manner, or the other way around, the brothers would always apologize, hug and laugh it off, not seeing the content smile on their father's face afterwards.

But not now.

Now, it was Michael's intent to end him. His hits showed no mercy, relentlessly battling him, channeling all his strength. His mighty sword coming down on his and the look on his face, grim and cold, showing no emotion.

Lucifer knew his brothers and sisters were watching them, they cried out in horror every time one of them was hit.

The two beautiful brothers were fighting hard and relentlessly, divine swords crashing together in loud, metallic rings.

But Lucifer knew he was still a better fighter, more powerful. He was the first archangel, angel, older than his brother and he would win.

Or so he thought. He had underestimated his brother's grim determination, underestimated Michael's will to turn against him.

At first he thought there was a chance of talking to his stubborn brother, but every time he attempted to speak, his brother's eyes would glow, bright and blue, and his celestial energy would force Lucifer back.

Still the Morningstar believed he would win that terrible battle.

And Lucifer was furious. How could his brother do that to him? How could father do this to him? He loved them, he loved all of his family.

They were both bleeding now, grace shining bright through their bodies.

Father's voice rumbled through heaven's throne room, commanding them to halt in their action. They both stopped, Michael out of obedience, Lucifer out of old habit.

Father's accusations numbed him but at the same time...

There it was.

The flame inside of him, burning bright and red through his eyes and Michael's look of utter disturbance when he saw his brother's blue eyes turn red for the first time fueled his unstoppable rage even more.

With proud strides the Morningstar made his way over to father's throne.

The angels screamed as they saw him raise his sword at father, and then he screamed when Michael roughly yanked him backwards.

By his wings.

The most sensitive and most holy part of an angel's body. The most intimate. He could feel feathers ripping out, blood spilling, the small bones crushed under Michael's merciless grip.

With a roar he turned around with the intention of causing Michael as much pain as he experienced.

But then it happened. For a split second he could see Michael's facade crumble when he heard father's command. He could see the real Michael, not the cold soldier but his little brother, staring up at him in dread. Even for Michael father's choice of punishment sounded cruel.

Lucifer stared at his brother, awaiting his reaction.

A choir of terrified angel voices followed them again and when he saw the clouds dividing, the distant green of earth so contrary to the white marble of the throne room, he knew it was the end.

Michael's expression shifted back to grim and determined.

For the last time Lucifer allowed himself to look at his brothers.

Gabriel. Tears were streaming down his little brothers face, arms around a little fledgling who had buried his face in Gabriel's side.

Raphael stared at him without emotion, looking at him as if watching the clouds in heaven.

But Lucifer couldn't look at father. Not after this. He despised him.

And in this moment he swore his revenge would be terrible.

With gleaming red eyes he turned his face to look at Michael. The cold breeze from the opening rustled his and Michael's feathers.

He grinned at his brother, his face a mocking grimace.

“What are you waiting for, brother?”, he spat.

With another violent pull Michael yanked him forward once again and he could hear his bones break. The pain emerging from his wing was almost unbearable.

Lucifer wanted to stop his brother from dragging him, tried hitting him with his bare hands, kicking him, clawing at him, anything to protect his wings, but his hands did not affect Michael and he knew, it was father who protected his brother against his attacks.

He stumbled after his little brother, cursing him, cursing father and the entirety of heaven.

When his other wing broke, the angels started crying but he simply laughed.

“You are a monster, Lucifer.”, his brother's cold voice hurting him more than his grip on his wings.

With those words Michael let his white, bloodstained wings go and violently kicked him, hard, in the back, right between his destroyed wings.

Then he fell, accompanied by his sibling's cries.

What he mostly remembers from the fall is pain and the smell of his burning wings. Once he reached a certain speed, he was nothing but a ball of fire.

His broken wings were flapping useless above him, burning.

He tried to do anything to slow himself, tried to lift his once strong wings, but the broken bones did not allow him to.

It is said the scream that erupted from Lucifer's throat that moment shook not only heaven, but hell and earth as well.

And mankind was terrified once they caught sight of the archangel, falling in a fiery mess, and heard his terrible cry.

The moment he collided with earth's rough surface, he wished he had lost consciousness.

Instead, he hit the surface with a shattering thud.

Only then, everything went black.

When he woke up again, he found himself behind strong, warded metal bars., His father's print clear on them.

He knew father had meant to bind him, to not release him upon the earth, threatening his oh so beloved creation.

The millennia he spent imprisoned in the cage had their fair share on him. Healing was hard, all alone in the darkness with no help.

His wings...

His beautiful wings were destroyed. The once alabaster white feathers, with sprinkles of pure gold at the feather's ends were now black and stunted – burned.

And he wept for them, wept alone in the darkness of the sickening cage, wept for his despair and repudiation.

Once he used to laugh at his father's poor creativity, locking him up just like he did to his sister.

Once he used to laugh at the screams of the doomed souls, suffering.

After a while he stopped. He became... considerate, quiet.

Over hundreds of years he took the time of the solitude to heal himself.

And finally his wings were restored to their former glory, as well as the rest of his body.

But not his mind. It was broken and no grace, no divine power could repair it. There was nothing but a storm of dark clouds, full of hatred, disdain and rage.

So he was left with himself. Thinking, planning, listening.

And how he learned to loathe his father and all his creation.

The once beautiful archangel Lucifer Morningstar, God's most beloved child, was now the Devil.

Twisted, sick and evil, he waited.

A whisper. Promises from Azazel, one of his princes. Promises for him. He hoped Azazel wouldn't fail – otherwise not even the bars of the damned cage would save the demon from his wrath.

Then, he felt a low rumble, vibrating through the cage.

Then another. And another.

He could sense her coming. His first creation. Lilith. After all she was bound to him.

Her words were the sweetest music in his ears.

Music, of the 66 seals being broken, music of heaven's armies failing.

And finally he laughed again and all of hell heard him and cheered.

Lucifer would walk the earth and be their salvation.

With the last seal breaking, the fire in him burned again, after a long time.

He was free again.

Finally he was going to get his revenge.

And it would be so sweet.

He smiled. He would destroy the one thing that brought him his doom – humanity.

And he would find such pleasure in destroying his father’s most beloved creation.

Lucifer would destroy mankind the same way his father had destroyed him.

He was surprised at how easy it was to possess his first vessel. How easily manipulated humans still were.

Thousands of years after their creation and they were just as weak and pathetic as the day they first opened their eyes.

The suffering they would endure once he had raised hell would be terrible, and he hoped that father, wherever he was, would see the mistake he made.

He knew his brother's garrison was after him, but he had other, more important concerns.

For example convincing Sam Winchester to be his vessel – it was his destiny after all. The same way it was Sam's idiotic brother's destiny to be Michael's vessel.

But the brothers were... stronger and more resistant than usual, their brotherly love painfully reminding him of what he and Michael once used to have.

He did not worry though, they were just humans after all and he was, well, the Devil.

Then, the one thing he always tried to avoid happened.

His little brother, Gabriel got in his way, and he couldn't understand why he would care for those pagans. Lesser beings, not half as worth as his little brother himself, far beneath him.

So he left his little Gabriel the choice – him or Michael, to evaluate whether he was worthy of being a part of his new kingdom.

And oh how he wished his little brother would have picked him, how his foolish little brother would see that he was the right choice.

But Gabriel was blind and so he had to end him.

He simply couldn't show any more weakness. Now it was about his main goal, and to reach it. He would turn against his family for it, like they once turned on him. He had tried but his brother had left him no choice.

And so he had turned around, piercing his brother's own blade right through his heart, watching the life leave his eyes, shining bright and blue through them.

He cried and wept for his little brother but it had to be. There was no way he could allow any form of resistance in his kingdom.

The world would be his, only his.

But of course his other brother couldn’t let that happen.

Lucifer still loved Michael. Even now, after what Michael had done to him. Even after his last words to him had stung terribly.

So he tried talking to him, get him to understand that he wasn’t evil. (Just) simply misunderstood.

But his stupid, prideful, stubborn brother wouldn’t listen to him. He was just as blind as Gabriel was.

So they had to fight and he knew he would win. He was the Morningstar after all.

And his kingdom would rise.

But then, this miserable human and his imbecile brother damaged his plans.

When Sam Winchester accepted to be his vessel, he knew he should have locked him far away in his mind before, but it was so much fun watching the younger Winchester suffer.

Watching it tear him apart that he wasn’t strong enough to overpower him, to watch innocent people die at his own hands.

And how he enjoyed beating up the pitiful other one, Dean, making him suffer at his Sammy’s hand.

But he underestimated them, and he cursed himself for it.

His stupid vessel took control, and it grabbed Michael, dragging both of them with him.

And then he was there again.

The one place he wished to never be again, the one place he feared.

He had wished to never having to look at the iron bars, how they seemingly got closer with every breath he took.

But this time he wasn’t alone.

And even if he couldn’t get his revenge on father, he knew ways nobody else knew of, to make the person suffer who brought him back to the hell hole.

A smile crept up his face.

He would break Sam Winchester.

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doctorhawke · 4 years

Photo

gods whisper: a playlist for lith hawke

dragon age playlist series (15/?)

(listen on spotify)

#playlist series #fanmix #da2 #hawke #lith hawke #could listen to crucified again just like forever tbh #my art

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paulieshore · 4 years

Text

Part 2 Obey Me / SCM Au Series

Warnings: conflict of interest, curses, drama, minor angst

Words 2670

I do not own the rights to these characters, characters belong to:

· Obey me! Shall we date

· Star crossed myth - Voltage

Part 2: Obey Me / SCM Au Series

*Note:

Turns out I have been spelling Hue’s name wrong by one letter LOL ‘Huedhaut’ is Hue aka Huedaut, God of Aquarius … Sorry for all previous chapters misspelling his name, ill edit it when i can be arsed. <3

Chapter 1: Shame on You

Lucifer’s Pov

As I passed by the mirror of the bathroom, I was slightly taken by surprise by my sight.

When did I get so weak?

My clothes were in shambles, I couldn’t tell whose blood was whose. My skin was filthy, riddled with marks and scruffs. Thankfully my demon powers started healing my wounds, though my energy still felt depleted.

I wonder how she must be feeling? The thought occurred to me.

Walking to the doorway, peeking to the unconscienced beauty on the sofa. Her eyes closed; fear swelled inside me; hoping they would open soon.

Such a fragile life, even in my own anger I had nearly done the unthinkable to her. My mind was racing with so many questions, neither mind nor heart aligned.

Is that why I feel the way I do towards Y/N? Is it guilt that compels me to care? Does this have to do with mother or Lilith, or is this guilt for my brother?

Mammon… I scold myself for being so reckless; shame on you.

I should have known he would go to her, even when told not to. When does he ever listen to warnings or advice? A fleeting smile creeps on my face as I think about it, gone far to soon as my thoughts wonder.

I got careless, oh perhaps I didn’t care enough.

So many feelings and emotions stirring, things I thought I’d lost long ago.

I have fallen so far from grace, and feel as though I continue to fall.

Shame on you.

Inside the House of Lamentation

Lucifer stormed out of the hall with Y/N, the remaining five brothers and Solomon; silent as the grave. Each of them seeming to be thinking the same things.

‘Mammon the Idiot.’

The house was quiet without his noise, far too quiet.

Lucifer asked that they believed in Huedhaut but, they had already been let down by him; twice. How could they believe in him now after so long…?

…

Beel breaks the silence “Do you think it’s worth praying for him?” Looking to Belphie

Solomon replies before anyone else is able too, “Can you?”

They all look at him dumbfoundedly.

“What do you mean, Solomon?” Asmo asks

“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever known demons to pray, and to whom?”

A genuine question, which none of them, had any idea where to start.

…

Solomon suggests something, “Why don’t you pray directly to him then?”

Demon’s Lord Castle

Huedhaut’s Pov

I truly did not believe Kivy, my king, my old friend, would save Mammon.

I turned to the young prince of the underworld, betting on the chance he may. Mammon wasn’t gone yet; I could feel his soul still intact. I however, did not possess the power it required to heal him completely.

I proposed to Diavolo, in exchange for his help, I would grant him one wish.

Whatever that may be.

Kivy will surely want my head, but I already owed these boys so much. I was willing to do anything at this point; I know Fate would agree with me. Seeking balance for all that I didn’t do, or maybe I’m searching to be punished further?

“Lord Huedhaut, in aiding you with this and granting me said wish… Will you not fall from grace?” The young prince asks me. His pitch hiked slightly, and dipped deep again; uneasy.

Whether he was genuinely concerned or merely probing my emotions was futile.

“I cannot say for certain but, I will be tried in court. That is definite.”

I couldn’t bring myself to look away from Mammon, one blink and he could truly be gone. Shame on you Huedhaut; I could practically hear Fate cursing me for failing our children.

“Then who’s to say that I, Prince; will not be tried too? For interfering in such affairs”

A reasonable counter, I thought. His last words nearly had me laughing out loud though, playing the innocence card?

“You weren’t punished for your last ‘interference’, why should this be any different?” I challenged him, what more did I have chance of losing?

“It was I that came to you, it was I and I alone that proposed this deal. So, it will be me, Huedhaut; who will face whatever may.”

I looked to Diavolo, and meant every word, then turned my sight back to Mammon.

They stood together against Kivy when Lilith broke the law. I once again took the kings side over my family… Not this time, not anymore.

Third times a charm? Isn’t that what the mortals say.

Heaven

Simeon and Luke were just informed of the recent events, all of heaven in an uproar.

“What should be do Simeon?”

“Honestly I don’t kno-”

Simeon stopped talking mid-sentence, a faint chant filling his ears.

Luke’s head shot back and forth, barking out “Can you hear that? Those voices?”

Simeon stood still and closed his eyes, listening further. A smile spreads across his face.

“They’re praying.”

Zyglavis was reporting to Kivy when sounds start to fill the throne room. Zyglavis was unable to finish his report, he closed his eyes and surrendered to the voices.

The King too is amused “seems even black sheep are in need of guidance” his laugh drowns out all other noises.

He would allow this once; their voices to be received to the recipient.

…

The House of Gods

Partheno slips in, he knew there was going to be questions to his disappearance. Weirdly though no one was bombarding him, it felt suspicious.

He enters the common room “Urg, you would not believe the day I have had?!”

No one takes any notice of him; they all seem to be listening to something.

“Gents? Am I being ignored?” He pretends to pout. “I know I shouldn’t have skipped out on”

Scorpio scowls at him “SHHH, listen!”

They all fall silent again, prayers can be heard in almost a whisper.

Teorus points out, “Those voices, can it be?”

“You know, I feel sorta sad for them…” Aigonorus barely squeaks out.

Ichthys and Dui nod their heads in agreement.

The Human Realm

*SNAP*

Karno and Leon were feeling the toll, dealing with the aftermath and erasing memories. Took a lot out of them, luckily though the news cameras were not live filming. Fiddling with mortal minds was a breeze, fiddling with a dozen mortal minds in a polluted realm was another. Luckily, they only had to deal with a relevantly small community, between the two of them they divided the work.

Leon was feeling a bit annoyed no one else came to aid them, not that he needed help.

“Chief, that’s the last of them.” Karno walks up to him, whose sprawled out on a bench. His head hanging over the back, arms draped over the back support of it.

“I hate the human realm; I feel disgusting.”

Karno laughs featherily, “Well to be fair, you are covered head to toe in filth.”

Leon shoots him a dirty glare, stands up and begins walking away. “Well if were done here, let’s leave to Devildom immediately. The sooner we finish the sooner I can have a drink”

“Leon, we should head back to The King and report before doing so.”

“No, we are not going back until we have the girl. She’s in danger Karno, more importantly look what she has done here. Whether it was intentional or not, she can not be allowed the freedom to roam. Let alone the fact now those demons see what she can do, how do you think they’ll manipulate her” He turns and notices the look on Karno’s face. “Is there something you’re not telling me, my vice minister?”

He looks down, guilt written all over his face. Nodding “Yes, which is why we must report to the King.”

Leon pauses, Karno was not one to lie to him. Which led him to believe that whatever it was, the king’s opinion was indeed needed as much as he disliked admitting it. “Very well, but then I WILL be going to Devildom, even if I have to go alone.”

Devildom

“It’s rather simply, Barbatos will place me in another time line. I will swap the Mammon here, with the Mammon there.” Huedhaut outline’s his plan.

“I see where you are going with this. However, in doing so, we will cause a ripple affect within all other time lines. Mammon’s fate has already been sealed.” Barbatos points out.

“You’ve done something rather similar before no, and look how well that faired out.” Hue was done with their petty mind games.

He did not like people taking him for a fool.

Barbatos face was slapped with truth and shock. Diavolo squinted his eyes to the god, it seems the heavens were well informed on what has been going on within his kingdom.

“So, let’s just get straight to it. I have seen how this will play out, and what exactly is needed to be done in order to do so. I will do it; I need to get back to the day Mammon snuck out of school. That is when I will swap and set everything up.”

Diavolo doesn’t quite understand what Huedhaut intends to do “Set everything up?”

“Yes, someone was following them that day; Crow. I will use that given opportunity as an assassination on Mammon. There for, feeding fuel to the fire, the others will believe Mammon was killed by the disciple even in that time line. I can use my powers, not be seen or detected, and bring Mammon safely back here. However, I will need you though Diavolo, as prince you are relevant in all the timelines. You must keep the secret of the truth to yourself in that alternative time line, I will come to you there and explain in further detail.” Giving Barbatos the side eye.

Diavolo realises then, Huedhaut was indeed a god not to be toyed with. He wasn’t just known for being wise, but being dangerously clever. It started to make sense, the similarities he saw in Lucifer, the siblings and him. The past started to piece itself together “Very well then, you have my word.”

“I need your permission, grant me power to carry out my task.”

Diavolo’s eyebrow raises suspiciously, “I; Diavolo, first of my name, prince of the underworld. Grant you, Huedhaut; the power to carry out your quest, under the regulations and laws that guard my people.”

No sooner after those words left his mouth, Huedhaut glowed. It momentarily blinded both him and Barbatos, as the light faded and Huedhaut could be seen again. He was no longer in uniform; he was in god form.

It was stupendous, he wore holy attire, set on his forehead a golden diadem. Dark blue clothes draped on his sleek and lean figure. Around his neck was a two overlaid gold necklace that sat tidily on his collarbone, dangling from gold links were 3 inched; sapphire gems that sparkled like crystal blue stars. The necklace matched the diadem on his head and the sandals upon his feet. His right arm covered with more deep blue cloth and silver in stitched patterns down the sleeve, which resembled waves. His left arm was mostly bare but two gold accessories; a gold armlet that fit snug around his perfect bicep, another sapphire rock can be seen on it. Around his wrist was a gold bracelet with more pebble size gems, his bottom half was a long skirt, matching the colours above. His upper body was slightly revealed, show casing his glowing skin. Around his waist, a gold and blue sash with patterns that came together and dangled to the right side. The very sight of him screamed divinity and grace from head to toe.

Diavolo was much to busy spectating every inch of Hue, to hear a word the he was saying.

Huedhaut inhaled deeply, “That feels much better, my regards Diavolo.” In an almost sinister voice “Well then Master Barbatos, shall we be off?”

Mammon’s POV

Y/N pointed to me; I didn’t have enough time to turn. The pain that shot into me then my body felt so cold with each spasm around the entry point. It all happened so fast, I think I was stabbed.

I didn’t cry, Me? The great Mammon, never cries…

Okay…fine.

Hell, I cried a little, the hurt was one thing, but the look on her face was the kicker. It sent my mind and heart into torture, while I felt discomfort physically. My body betrayed me and I fell to the ground hard, my mind was the only thing I felt I had a smidge bit of control over.

Soon her face came into view from above, she looked afraid.

Did something else happen, or is that look for me… Am I dying?

She whispered so softly to me, and for a moment I wished we stayed like this forever. Her arms were so warm, I knew she was pretty... But being so close I really seen how pretty she was. Her voice was heavenly, comforting me as I felt myself slipping into panic. I don’t want to die, I tried focusing on all her heavenly features.

“H-hey b-buddy?”

She stuttered, how cute! If it wasn’t for how cold I felt I bet my face would be burning right now. I feel so sleepy, these damn tears just won’t stop. Nothing is agreeing to obey me.

“Y-you’re going to be o-okay, y-you have too! You’re the GREAT M-Mammon after all!”

Damn right I am, thank you for confirming that! I wish I could laugh and make you smile. I really don’t like seeing her like this, lip quivering; she’s starting to cry.

It’s getting harder to breathe now... I notice lights flying above our heads, but I can’t really hear much, nor can I speak. This is annoying... Her voice breaks me from drifting off.

She claims she’s going to save me; she doesn’t look very confident though. Hey! HEY LOOK AT ME! WHO ARE YOU LOOKING AT OTHER THEN THE GREAT MAMMON!?

I muster all the strength I can and barely touch her chin. Her face glistening with tears, with the last of everything I got I try to tell her the truth…

‘You Already Have, Thank You!’ I tried to scream to her face, and smiled. She’s such a worry wort, I’m so glad we became friends; you really are the best.

Then darkness, everything got really quiet.

“Y/N?! Whoa hey my voice is back!”

Not that it mattered, I couldn’t see anything or anyone. I also have feeling again in my body, I give myself a little shake to confirm.

“Nice! Hmm, I wonder where everyone went?” I started wondering around in the dark.

…

I don’t know how long I have been wondering, there’s literally nothing. Even my own hands are shadowed over, what a pain in the ass. Suddenly I hear voices, but I have no idea where they’re coming from.

“I pray for you brother, please forgive me for all the times I called you scum!”

That’s Levi’s voice, but where the hell is he?! It’s maddening, running in one direction I believe his voice is coming from. Only I start hearing, Satan, Asmo, Beel and Belphie too. Surrounding me in this abyss of darkness.

“You and Lilith take good care of each other on the other side, will see you both someday”

What Beel says stops me in my tracks… What does he mean, other side? Holy shit, I’m fucken dead!?!

Another voice joins in… His voice…

Yes, my son, you are…

To Be Continued

Thanx for reading

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bainelland · 4 years

Text

WIP Sentence Tag

Rules: post the last line that you’ve written and tag as many people as there are words in the line as you like!

I was tagged by @bella-donna-energy and @singofsolace so you’re getting two fics XD

In Essence Divided

Chapter Six: Whispers All-Around

“Professor Demons?” She had to suppress the groan. She didn’t have to look up to know who was standing in front of her desk in the nearly empty class. Stopping herself from cursing the girl on the spot she put a polite smile on her lips and looked away from the parchments in front of her. Her eyes met the nervous-looking Sabrina Spellman.

“Yes, Spellman? What is it?”

“Can I talk to you?” The girl shifted uncomfortably in her spot, clutching the strap of the bag hanging from her shoulder.

“You already are, aren’t you?”

“Privately.” Lilith sighed heavily.

The Spellmans really were out to get her, weren’t they. Only one Ambrose Spellman was not trying to talk to her about this whole predicament. Or at least he wasn’t playing the ‘protective nephew’ card. All the boy has done the last time their paths crossed in the hallway since the ridiculous situation had started, was to grin at her suggestively and wiggle his eyebrows.

“Do I call you ‘auntie’ now, professor Demons?” He asked when he saw her approaching from the opposite end of the hallway. She could feel the corners of her lips lifting against her will.

“Try and see what happens.” The kid was growing on her, she had to admit.

---------------------------------------------------------------

We Lost The Sea

Chapter Five

“Get out, I don’t have the whole night.” Gone was the boy who winked at her mischievously back at the party in the castle that night. She was faced with a cold and professional royal guard.

“What’s going on?” She stood up, not bothering to brush the dust off of her already ruined dress, and walked over to him. The young man just looked at her with a storm raging behind his eyes.

“The queen regent demands your presence,” he said simply, his voice full of anger. He grabbed her arm and forcefully lead her out of jail.

Immersed in dark thoughts Lilith wasn’t paying any attention to where Ambrose was taking her. Well, she thought, that would be that. It would seem her adventures were coming to an end for the council would surely call for her immediate execution. She was surprised they even bothered to call her in, to hear the verdict.

Her thoughts moved to her crew; they would find out about her death sooner rather than later. Rumors were something that spreads in Syracuse faster than a plague.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Okay, so I know Harry Potter AU was not updated for a while, and yes, I know I just gave you a piece that won’t appear anytime soon, because I still have to post chapter four and five, but... Hey! At least you know I’m still working on it! XD

And as for the Pirates AU... Well, it’s coming soon. I hope.

As for tagging people. @saturn-silk (I know you were tagged before, but I also know you have a lot of WIP lol) @renaissancefleabag @ellanainthetardis

#tag game #thanks for tagging me #harry potter au #pirates au #in essence divided #we lost the sea #this got me even more excited to update these fics lol

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iwhumpyou · 4 years

Note

A joined-fate pair where the protagonist offers/threatnes to kill themself to defeat the antag. Do with this what you will 😉

It’s like you live in my mind, anon. Here, have an early (and I mean early, this is ancient, this is before I knew what whump was, this is before I knew what hurt/comfort was, this is back when I had daydreams and I didn’t divide them into universes and characters and all that jazz, back when I thought this was going to be just one scene in an actual novel about things other than whump) whump scene for Kyran.

This isn’t going to be exactly joined-fate, more like one life for another. (I have an idea for an actual joined-fate pair but I wrote three-fourths of this before I got that idea.)

Just a warning - Kyran doesn’t offer. And he considers threatening far too mainstream. 😈

(Also, I love how you say ‘do with this what you will’, like there’s any other option than me running to go write 2k words of a new story.) (Also, going to be part 1 of an arc because this ran away from me and straight into hell.)

Masterlist. Kyran.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Rae snarled at Zane, all the horrible things she could thinkof, all the ways she wanted him to die slowly and painfully.

The gag muffled most of it, but Zane’s grin showed that he got the generalgist.

“My, my, you have a temper, little sister,” he laughed,turning back to the table and the grimoire on it, “Just be patient for a littlewhile longer. Your wait is almost over.”

“Yes, it is.”

Zane startled, turning to see the newcomer but Rae wasalready exhaling in relief, twisting in her bounds to see Kyran saunteringforward with an easy grin. Gabrielstalked after him, a dark scowl on his face – one that shifted to murderouswhen he caught sight of her – and Lilith and Adam brought up the rear.

“Gabriel,” Zane smiled, “You’re a bit early to the show,dear, but I don’t mind – I have plenty of things to keep you busy.” He flicked a hand and forms rose from theearth, shadowy and misshapen, but lumbering forward with intent.

“There isn’t going to be a show,” Kyran said calmly, as Gabriel charged at his former lover. Kyran moved to her as Gabriel engaged Zane, two swords clashing with a clamor.

The gag he removed easily, but the bonds weren’t that simple and she heard him curse as he fumbled with them. Zane was driving Gabriel back - Rae adored her brother, but he was no match against the prince of angels. Lilith and Adam were having enough difficulty against the shadow creatures.

Rae felt cold - this was a trap. The rune circle she knelt on needed sacrifices and they’d just delivered five of them to him. One monster was bad enough, but Zane with the ability to raise five creatures from the dead and bind them to his will?

“It’s a trap,” she hissed at Kyran, “You need to get them all out of here.”

“Admirable,” Kyran said, his voice clipped and flat, “But I’m not leaving without you.”

“You don’t understand!” she said louder, “He’s going to kill us all! With his pick of five dead warriors, he will rule the world! You need to get out.”

“Rae, there have been enough monsters throughout history that even if he raises one we’re all doomed,” he said, “He needs to be stopped. This rune circle will implode if I try to tamper with it, which means I need to get you out first. Stop struggling!”

Gabriel fell back with a cry and Rae snapped her gaze to the fight as Zane smiled and started towards them again. Lilith tried to get to Gabriel but the shadow creatures cut her off. She couldn’t see where Adam went.

“Look at the little demon, trying so hard to save his friends,” Zane laughed. His pace was slow and casual as he approached them.

“You should’ve been smothered at birth,” Rae snarled at him, “You’re a poison that’s infected our people!”

“Ouch,” Zane stumbled a step back and pretended to look hurt, “I had no idea you thought so low of me, little sister.”

“I am not your little sister!” Rae almost-screamed, and Kyran’s frantic movements behind her stilled for a second.

“Whatever you wish,” Zane said, advancing on them, “You’ll be dead soon enough, and your friends will share your fate. Who shall I raise first, I wonder?”

And then he froze. As did Rae, still as a statue against the blade at her neck.

“I’ve picked up things here and there on resurrection,” Kyran said, his breath heavy on her ear, “And one thing that was always clear is that the one who makes the sacrifice is the one that calls the dead.”

“Kyran!” Lilith shouted, her voice frantic. Kyran ignored her, and Gabriel, who was getting to his feet with a look of horror.

“You wouldn’t,” Zane said, trying for nonchalant, but Rae could see his knuckles turn white with his grip on his sword.

“I’m a demon,” Kyran snarled, and the blade dug in a little deeper, “We look out for our self-interest, remember?”

Rae didn’t say a word. Zane looked at them, and she could see his rage at being denied his easy victory.

“No,” Zane said again, slowly, “No, I’ll call your bluff. You wouldn’t hurt any of them. They’re your friends.” He spat out the word like it was a curse. He started forward, and the blade wavered.

“Kyran,” Rae said quietly, and that was enough to jolt him into action.

“You’re right,” Kyran said, withdrawing the blade. She twisted to look at him and saw a thoughtful expression on his face, like he was trying to add up something to make sure it was right. “I wouldn’t hurt them.”

His gaze focused on her and he smiled and Rae went cold because that smile looked a lot like surrender.

He brought the blade up again and slashed his own throat.

“KYRAN!” Two different voices screamed but Rae could only watch in shock as Kyran gasped, his hand moving to his throat, as if to catch the blood that was gushing out.

Demons weren’t immortal. Their healing abilities had limits. And Kyran had cut deep.

“E-Elizabeth,” he choked out and Rae leaned closer. He couldn’t have. He didn’t. “Rayleigh,” he said, his hand spasming. It was covered with blood. Everything was covered with blood. Everything was blood. “Princess of angels.”

He fell, limp, hitting the ground with a soft thud. Blood began to leak out faster and his eyes were dull. Rae knew what that meant. She knew. But she refused to accept it.

He couldn’t. He didn’t. It - it was an illusion, a trick, some sort of game. Demons loved their games. It - it had to be a game, Kyran wouldn’t do this, Kyran wouldn’t -

‘Wouldn’t sacrifice himself for his friends?’ something whispered in the back of her head and Rae shuddered because Kyran would’ve done far more than that for them. Had done far more than that.

But it was a trick - demons, demons healed, they healed from near everything, surely a slashed throat wouldn’t -

The knife Kyran had dropped gleamed off-silver and Rae swallowed back bile. It was blessed steel.

She looked at Kyran again, and there was no light in his eyes. Blood poured from his throat, a jagged slash that wasn’t closing. He wasn’t moving.

Behind her, Zane started laughing. “I have to admit, I was almost worried,” the prince of angels chuckled, “What did he try to raise - a cockroach? Or did he even get a chance to say a name before he died?”

Rae felt her eyes burn, felt tears spill over onto her cheeks. Elizabeth Rayleigh, princess of angels. With his last dying breath, Kyran sought to raise the one person who might be on their side, no questions asked.

“Pathetic,” Zane said, and Rae turned to glare at him through her tears. “Guess that means I can only raise four people from the dead.” Zane took a step closer to her, but Gabriel had gotten back on his feet and he attacked again.

Rae ignored the sounds of their battle and tried to reach a hand out to Kyran but her bonds were too tight. “You idiot,” she said, voice cracking, “You idiot - why, why would you do that? You stupid - you fool.” She sobbed, slumping in her bonds, because she couldn’t reach him, she could only sit here, the blood beginning to stain her knees, too far to touch him but close enough to see every detail of that awful wound.

There was a cry behind her but she didn’t turn. She didn’t know if it was Gabriel or Zane. She didn’t know if Lilith had fallen to the shadow monsters, if Adam had.

They were all going to die here, she thought bleakly, and strangely enough, the thought made her feel a little better. She would have to live with this grief for only minutes more. She wouldn’t have to watch the world burn.

He should have scratched out the runes, even if that meant her death. Kyran and Gabriel working together could’ve beaten Zane.

Rae stared listlessly at Kyran’s body, lost in her own thoughts, so it took her a long moment to realize that his blood…was not behaving like blood normally did.

It had stopped spreading outward in an ever-growing puddle. In fact, it was starting to be sucked inwards, to a point to the left of Rae - a point that she had a feeling was the center of the rune circle she was bound in.

She watched in silence, frozen to the spot by more than chains, as the blood bubbled up, higher and higher, turning from red to white and pink and silver and gold as it formed human feet and legs and arms.

Kyran hadn’t failed.

Elizabeth Rayleigh, princess of angels.

Elizabeth, long-dead by Kyran’s hand, opened her eyes.

~#~

TBC.

#whump #whumpfic #self-sacrifice #kyran #arc: sacrifice #raising the dead #character death #request fill

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