#he lashes out there because He's Dealing With The Crushing Guilt but *all* of 'em are acting off then—Charlie specifically calls attention | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

obeymeluv · 4 years

Text

Random Spooky Thing

Something spooky I thought about. I don’t know what really got me thinking about it besides spooky season and the fact that the boys are 5,000+ years old and have probably made secret friends/lovers with a few non-RAD humans over the years.

This is pre-RAD program, post-fall. Boys are still probably at odds with their new demon instincts or have just barely settled into them.

Trigger warning for scary situation. Namely: almost being a legit sacrifice for a demon summoning.

I also have personal headcanons that the bros used to be Avatars in heaven, but for the trait opposite of their sin (Lucifer would be humility, Mammon would be charity/giving, Asmodeus would be love (I guess?), Satan doesn’t count because I don’t think he was in the Celestial Realm when it all happened (based on where I’m at in the game). Beel championed a good harvest/abundance. and Belphegor had the blessing of reinforcement/encouragement/inspiration/productivity)

Lucifer’s got unexpectedly long so this part will have Lucifer and Mammon only. I have to study for exams and stuff TT_TT

Lucifer:

The concept of being summoned by dark magic is very foreign and forceful. He hates it, and he hates that this is what his life is now

There was a certain beseeching vulnerability to humans when they prayed - it was soft and glowing and he misses it

This is a rough yank, like he’s nothing more than a petulant child that needs to be dragged around. Or worse, some dog.

He spills out into the human world and it smells of smoke and brimstone and ground ingredients he’s starting to get familiar with

Lucifer’s used to being intimidating in an angelic way, but he can feel the magic spill off of him here. He can feel his aura manifest into something dark and terrifying.

His eyes now glow in the dark; he can see a reflection of them in the humans’ eyes.

They give a very archaic, overdone address (”O’ great Lucifer...”) and he doesn’t even let them finish before he’s scoffing.

The fall may have broken his wings and shattered his reality, but he’s still fairly arrogant and ready to lash out

There’s a beautiful smell that makes his stomach ache something ungodly now that he’s a demon, and Lucifer realizes with abject horror that a wounded human is somewhere in this room

Celestial Realm or not, his eyes still have the ability to see human souls and intentions. There seems to be a lamb among these idiotic wolves

He sees that dagger rise, the muffled wail enough to pierce his ear and Lucifer snarls as he snatches that hilt in an iron grip

It’s enough to break the human’s grip and send his hands down the dagger, spilling rancid blood

“If you wish to summon me, do it with your own blood. Lay yourself before me and beg.” he says in a voice that is so grating and booming that it makes him flinch a little

His voice was never like this in the Celestial Realm and it makes him angry that it will never be angelically velvety again. Just something semi-twisted and possible of corruption

Perhaps because of the blood or the injustice, Lucifer throws out his wings and punishes the mortal for their insolence. Then the others who try to dogpile him and throw their books at him and shout words that have no meaning.

His grip now crushes things, and he forgets. Pinching is basically stabbing. A shove is basically a fracture.

You’re sobbing uncontrollably when he approaches where you’re being held and Lucifer realizes that he looks a sight. Truly frightening. He never had these murderous impulses as an angel and still surprises himself when he falls to them. They’re still so new!

“Be not afraid,” the words are comforting but fuzzy. They feel foreign on his tongue. He pets your hair. “I shall do you no harm.”

He has to remind himself that he’s so much stronger in this form, tugging and ripping at the rope while trying not to break your little limbs.

You have this resigned trust, this hope, this faith that he will keep his word and it makes him miss humans. Makes him miss Lilith and how he’d catch her and Belphie sneaking around to watch them.

You ask him if he’s really Lucifer, like that Lucifer. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he is. Instead he says, “I am the Morning Star.” and insists on taking you home.

He will guide you home, the bringer of light.

You hug him and it’s the first burst of warmth--genuine warmth--he’s felt since the fall. “Thank you, Lucifer.”

He’s called back by a greater force--Lord Diavolo--and prefers to forget the whole thing happened. That he ate people. That they almost hurt you.

He secretly checks in on you from time to time but doesn’t have the courage to talk to you again.

Every time he looks at you, he’s emotionally drained for the rest of the day. He’s starting to understand what Lilith felt so strongly about and it just makes that gaping wound that much deeper.

He drowns his guilt in Demonus and damns his hypocrisy.

Mammon

He hates being summoned because it burns like when he fell

It reminds him of his body screaming in pain as he adamantly tried to hold onto his Holy Weapons during the fall. His body converted during the fall and Holy Weapons are sheer agony for demons.

The burns on his hands were deep and tender and took days to heal. He doesn’t even remember how he broke his wing, but he knows it drags and its lame. It can’t unfold as well as the other one.

Being summoned just leaves a bad taste in his mouth because he disagrees with being cast out, in general. Seems like some of those angels were morally corrupt, not them! How could what he and the others did be considered wrong?!

Mammon hates the fact that turning into a demon really ripped the veil off his eyes. He used to be a symbol of charity and giving, bringing joy to people, and now he just sees how nasty they are on the inside. Scummy, scummy people.

“What’s your business with the GREAT Mammon, hm? I’m a busy guy, ya know.” he stuffs his hands in his pockets as he looks disinterestedly around the room.

Dull souls, the lot of ‘em. Not a nice smell in the bunch! Some shiny bits and bobs he might take for his time, though.

Sometimes he bites his own tongue to try and fight off the demonic powers that converted him. To get his brain back on track. He doesn’t WANT to be so blunt and careless, so trained on shiny things. but it’s like he can’t help it!

It burns in his soul and sometimes he can hear his old self, his old ways, fizzling out like his wings as they disintegrated not long ago

The dumb humans start ranting about sacrifice and exchange and Mammon stops them cold, louder than them. It’s mostly the ‘older brother’ voice but he forgets that a demon is just scary to humans.

“Not really interested. What else ya got?”

No one expects that. He can tell. They take the thing off your head as if that will change his mind and something about the shininess of you catches his eye. Makes him feel kind of like a puppy.

Is it your soul? Your earrings? The genuine innocence of a human? How glittery your tears look?

He knocks them aside with his wings, stomps over to you, and picks you up (chair and all).

They start yipping about how he technically accepted the deal and how he needs to do their bidding or grant them a favor. “Hang tight, sweets,” Mammon sets your chair down before pointing out every technicality on how the deal wasn’t finished and the terms weren’t agreed upon.

Technically they just summoned him; they didn’t complete a pact ritual

“I’m takin’ that--he points to you--just because I can!” Mammon laughs at the dumb little humans. “You guys didn’t do your homework! I’m the Avatar of Greed!”

One of them tries to sneak around behind him and stab you (like that will change anything?!) and Mammon notices. He grabs the one in front of him by the face, throws him into the one by you, and just starts swinging

He doesn’t kill them, but he DOES raid their pockets of shiny things and interesting things.

Mammon takes the knife, the weird clasps off their ensembles, and breaks the chair to set you free. Debates on taking the screws, but tosses them over his shoulder (not good enough)

As an act of good will, you’re recruited to pillage this lame location they picked

He gets you home with a spell, some kind of homing magic, and just stands there looking at you quietly. He didn’t really look after humans like Belphie and Lilith did so he’s not sure what to do

The urge to comfort is strong but the genteel pat is corrupted by the desire to feel your earring between his fingers. Some guttural demon noise of glee comes out of him and it makes him embarrassed. He never used to make noises like that...

You unhook your earrings with a tentativeness that reminds him of the humans who left offerings at his alter, fretting over if they were good enough and wondering what they would bring.

You fold his big, tan fingers over the earrings and Mammon holds onto them for a while after he finds his way back to the Devildom. It’s his first gift as a demon.

He ignores getting yelled at and the little brothers pestering him about why he smells good, telling him that they’re hungry. and all their other little gripes.

Mammon never goes looking for you after that, trying to fill the ache in his soul with time and money and fame (oddly?) but he thinks of you often. He keeps your earrings in a special box at the front of his magic-locked hoard room. On his bad days, he’ll go sit in that empty room of knickknacks, open the box, and stare.

He picks up the little things, careful not to break them with his nails or strength. “You’re one silly human, aren’t you?” he smiles at the twinkling jewelry.

#Obey me!#Obey me! x Reader #Obey me! Lucifer #Lucifer x Reader #Mammon x Reader #Obey me! Mammon #Lucifer #Mammon

99 notes · View notes

nohysterlcs · 4 years

Text

LITTLE CHARACTER THINGS

Just a fun little character game. fill in the below categories with 3-5 things that your character can be identified by. Repost & tag away !

TAGGED BY: idk im bored TAGGING: u

EMOTIONS / FEELINGS:

001. grief.

002. guilt.

003. compassion.

004. isolation.

005. stubbornness.

GREETINGS:

001. soft smiles, conveying sentiments in just looks, understated vocal greetings

002. s/os he’ll swoop down n kiss em on the cheek bc he’s tall, gentle touches

003. the bro greeting u know the ones

COLORS:

001. autumn orange

002. grey

003. navy blue

004. dark red

005. cv white/gold

SCENTS:

001. crisp cold air

002. autumn in the woods (earthy, rain on leaves)

003. coppery blood

004. book smell, old house smell

CLOTHING:

001. hoodies, t-shirts, loose-fitting casual

002. stripes, neutral colours, lots of greys and blues, graphic t-shirts.

003. jeans, loose or cuffed.

004. converse shoes, beanies, watches and bracelets.

OBJECTS:

001. copy of house of leaves

002. laptop, usb drives

003. notebook, heavily cluttered

004. camera

VICES / BAD HABITS:

001. STUBBORN ;; maybe surprisingly, jeff will stick to his convictions near-blindly sometimes. despite being generally level-headed and someone who prefers to think things through, perceiving slights against his loved ones touches a very specific nerve. he can be very quick to lash out where emotions are involved, and he won’t back down in debates over issues he feels strongly about.

002. INACTION ;; he can be quickly crushed down into states of depression. loss, grief, and hopelessness find an easy target in him, and it can break his entire momentum, leaving him to close himself off and forget priorities and responsibilities all-together. and when things are too cloudy in his head, he becomes blind to dangers around him--knowing there’s something wrong but not acting on it before it’s too late.

003. INTERNALIZING ;; jeff has come to deal with pain and overwhelming feelings by organizing them into boxes and setting them in the back of his head. this is usually because he is trying to prioritize “real problems”, or other people, or would do literally anything to not acknowledge how he really feels, or would do anything to cover the times he has broken in front of people. he’s great at telling friends how to deal with their shit but he is literally a huge hypocrite and then all the stress will simply snap him one day.

004. ISOLATION ;; when anything really shakes him, he’ll very quickly close himself off to the people around him. it is his perception that his issues are not substantial enough to warrant other people’s attention, and since signing to be alex’s legal guardian, he’s taking the responsibility very seriously. and he thinks to do that he has to hide the fractures. he’ll try to go clear his head by disappearing for days on end, not answering his phone or telling anyone where he’s gone.

BODY LANGUAGE:

001. defaults to a sort of slouch but never looks fully comfortable in his frame.

002. hand gestures, crossed legs, quirked eyebrows and eye rolls. looking like he’s going to say something or kind of working it out in his head.

003. can be very concentrated and closed off, shoulders tense and jaw set, a pinch between the eyebrows, distant looks.

004. head tilts and cat smiles, warm crinkle at the corner of his eyes, light contact.

005. cv / upright, serious looks, composed, easy warmth but impossible age in his eyes and actions.

AESTHETICS:

001. deer in the night, in the middle of the road or in the woods

002. quiet car drives to nowhere, highbeams on the road and lit up highway signs

003. abandoned houses, collapsing overgrown and forgotten, attics and stairs to nowhere

004. blood trails over concrete steps and wood floors and in the grass

005. the quiet back aisles of a library, heavily annotated pages and laptop screens.

SONGS OR PIECES:

001. when i was done dying - dan deacon

002. this is home - cavetown

003. sea of love - cat power

004. transatlanticism - death cab for cutie

005. a moment apart - odesza

#this isn't writing but at least my brain is on #this weekend has been one long brain flatline #one day a moment apart won't gut me but today is not that day

4 notes · View notes

xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 5 years

Text

Dec 17

Words: 1 816

Prompt from @fanficy-prompts

A/N: Lord of the Rings and Alan Lee’s art are just perfect, I’m not even sorry. If you don’t know what I’m talking about:

Carefully you picked up the heavy book, gently running your fingers over the cover. It was a copy of the first Lord of the Rings book, one with breathtakingly beautiful art by Alan Lee. The cover was mostly destroyed even though the book could not be very old, and some of the pages were ripped.

“How much is this,” you asked the man who watched over the rummage sale.

He threw a look at the book in your hand before he answered.

“Fifty for all four,” the spit, pointing at the copies of the second, and third book, as well as the Hobbit.

Fifty dollars was a lot of money. You quickly did the math in your head, estimating how much the grocery shopping and the present for your mother would coast before your next pay check came in. Fifty dollars was too much.

“And just this one,” you held the book up again, hoping to at least get one of the beautiful copies.

“All or none, that’s the deal,” the man grumbled, “if you can’t afford ‘em, leave ‘em.”

Usually you would have felt bad for being talked to as if you had just asked the rudest question in the world, but your heart was too busy breaking a little over not being able to get these magnificent books. Slowly you placed the book back into the box, and turned away, immediately running into a tall man who you recognized as your neighbor Ryan.

Ryan and you got along pretty well, and admittedly, you had somewhat a crush on the dark haired, doe eyed musician.

“Hey,” he greeted, a smile spreading over his face, as he recognized you, “treasure hunting?”

You nodded, trying to ignore the nagging feeling of guilt for not buying these books.

“Not very successfully though,” you admitted, tearing your thoughts away from the destroyed covers, and to Ryan, the black coat that nicely hugged his frame, and the gray scarf that was loosely wrapped around his neck.

“Me too,” he answered shrugging, “Maybe next time.”

You nodded with a smile, when you suddenly felt your phone vibrating. Ryan seemed to notice at the way your hand flinched to your pocket, but did not get the phone out, that you should take the call. He smiled understandingly.

“Take that call, see you around another time,” he waved.

You waved back as he walked past you, and you quickly picked up the call.

~*~

It was ridiculous, you told yourself, but you could not shake of the feeling of guilt that had settled in your stomach since you had left the rummage sale. It was dark outside by now, a few clouds hid the stars from your view as you made a decision. Quickly you pulled on your coat and some shoes, before running out of the house, down the street into the direction of there the sale had been.

You arrived, breathing heavily and with disheveled hair, in front of the house. Most tables and boxes were gone already as you stepped into the yard, hoping to find the old books. If you would cut down on the groceries, eat normal bread instead of toast for breakfast, and used up your stocks, you would have enough money left to buy the novels.

“Hey, good evening,” you panted, finally spotting the man who you had talked to earlier that day.

He just looked at you unnerved.

“Do you- I was wondering if you still got those Lord of the Rings books,” you explained, swatting a strand of hair out of your forehead.

“Sold them,” he answered, and turned away, picking up the next box to carry inside.

“Really,” you mumbled, your shoulders slouching down, your heart breaking for the second time over those books.

~*~

Luckily Christmas time was so busy and stressful that you had not much time to wail over the books, and soon you had almost forgotten them completely.

It was the twenty-third December by now, and you had just settled down for a cup of tea, after packing your suitcase for the holidays you were going to spend at your parents’, when the doorbell rang.

You jumped up and strode over, being met with the sight of Ryan as you opened the door. He looked as charming as ever, wearing a dark red sweater, his brown curls an unkempt, but adorable mess on his head, and a shy smile on his lips.

“Ryan,” you cheered, not having expected to see your neighbor again before Christmas, “Come in! Do you have time? I just made tea.”

He giggled at your enthusiasm, and stepped into your flat, taking his shoes off in the hallway.

“Thanks, that’s lovely,” he laughed, following you into the kitchen where you already pulled out a second mug for him.

Somehow the holiday spirit always got you into the mood to make tea and serve it to the whole street, but since that was hardly possible, you were really happy to at least get the chance for a talk with Ryan.

You offered him a place at the kitchen table, which he gladly took, and smiled thankfully as you pushed a mug, filled with hot Darjeeling tea over to him. Once you had sat down as well, he spoke up.

“I actually just wanted to drop something off for you, kind of a thank you for always saving my life with the spare keys,” he explained, lifting a rather heavy looking package onto the table.

You giggled remembering the many times Ryan had rung your doorbell, because he had forgotten his keys inside his flat. You kept each other’s spare keys for emergencies, and Ryan seemed to have an emergency every other week. What you did not know was that he just could not think of a better excuse to talk to you.

“It’s no problem, Ryan, you know that,” you assured him, “you don’t have to get something for me because of that.”

He shook his head firmly.

“I insist, I really wanted to get this for you, come on, open it,” he encouraged, pushing the package closer to you.

You sighed in resignation, knowing that he would not give in, so you pulled away the scotch tape from the wrapping paper, trying not to tear it too much. Your heart nearly stopped as you recognized the four books you had marveled at about a week ago. But now their covers were repaired, the torn carton of the hardcovers replaced with new, intact one. Thin fabric was stretched over the carton, a different shade of brown for each book, and the titles were imprinted on the spines and the fronts in elegantly curved letters. Your mind was doing somersaults as you ran your fingers over the beautifully restored copies, and you almost teared up.

“A friend helped me make them look presentable again,” Ryan explained. “I hope you like –“

His sentence was interrupted by your arms wrapping around him in a tight hug, making him chuckle.

“Seems like you do like them,” he whispered, his breath fanning over your ear, and his arms sneaking around your waist, hugging your back.

“No, I love them,” you grinned, pulling away and quickly wiping the back of your hands over your eyes, making sure that there was no tear escaping accidentally.

Ryan grinned as well, looking up at you with warm eyes. He was still sitting on his chair, but you had jumped up, and now you were standing awkwardly in front of him. Slowly the grin melted of his features, but his eyes continued boring into yours. You were not sure what was happening, well, you knew, but you could not quite believe it, as Ryan slowly got up and placed his hand at your waist, pulling you closer to him. His hand was so warm that you even felt it through your shirt, and he smelled faintly of musk and cinnamon. His eyes had the color of whiskey, and his long lashes batted against his skin every time he blinked, while looking at you with so much affection that your heart involuntarily skipped a beat. He leant in slowly, giving you a lot of time to back out, but you’d be dammed if you would do that. When his nose brushed against yours, gently and hesitant, his eyes fluttered closed, and so did yours. It almost felt like the tension was killing you as his lips hovered so close over yours, and you wanted nothing more than to close that tiny, remaining gap, but at the same time you relished the thrill that came with it as you ran your hands up his sides and wove them into his beautiful curls. You were breathing heavily already, even without having kissed him yet, but your heart was beating a thousand miles an hour, and when Ryan pushed forward suddenly, finally pressing his lips against yours, it felt like all air was knocked out of you. You gasped quietly against his soft mouth, clinging to him as if your life depended on it. His reaction was not much different. He wrapped his arm further around your body, pulling you in closer until you were pressed against him, while his second hand was gently holding your face, his finger grazing over your skin as if you were made out of the most fragile glass. You could not remember ever having felt so overwhelmed with happiness and joy ever before, nor ever having been kissed as sweet, as demanding and yet caring, as Ryan did.

When you pulled away, you were both gasping for air, your foreheads pressed together, eyes still closed, cheeks flushed pink and lips twisted into a happy smile.

Once you had caught your breath and your heartbeat had started to normalize again, you slowly opened your eyes, finding Ryan already looking at you. He was still holding you close, and his fingers were still stroking your cheek carefully.

“I was thinking, maybe I could read something to you,” he suggested in a whisper, making you giggle.

“That would be fantastic,” you answered, only hesitantly letting go of him as he reached for the first book of the fantasy trilogy.

With a smile so warm and loving that you felt like you would never be cold again, Ryan took hold of your hand, and lead you over to the sofa in the living room, where he sat down, pulling you next to him, cuddling into the soft blanket that you pulled over both of you.

“Ready,” Ryan asked, opening the book and wrapping an arm around your shoulder, allowing you to snuggle closer to his chest.

You nodded, resting your head on him, and glanced into the pages of the book. Ryan smiled at your curiosity, and rested his head against yours before taking a deep breath and starting.

“Book One, Chapter One: A Long Expected Party.”

Picture

#ryan ross x reader #ryan ross #ryan ross fluff #ryan ross imagine #ryan ross x reader fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #books #the lord of the rings #alan lee #christmas #25 days of christmas #25 days of writing challange #advent #advent calendar #fluff #fluffy #cute

27 notes · View notes